Author's notes: BratChild3 and I would like to thank ALL of you for reading and reviewing and following so far! We know that we've been late with updating - it's NOT due to loss of interest in this fic, we can promise you that. Our lives have just been quite busy lately, and time for writing has been hard to find. We are squeezing out time as much as we can, and we are proud to present the latest installment here. We hope you enjoy and review!

Also - BC3 wanted to show you the actual pic of Ritsuka's peacock thong but it is no longer on Amazon! DX We both wish you all could have seen it. lol

Chapter 8

It was like a whole other world inside Seimei's pristine Rolls Royce. Outside, the night was black and bitterly cold, but within the car, Ritsuka felt warm and bright. The lights on the dash were orangey-yellow, casting a soft glow on Seimei's profile.

He was just as handsome as the last time Ritsuka had seen him, and this time, Ritsuka didn't feel quite so wrong to stare. Surely after their last visit, looking was acceptable. Seimei's hair was tousled a little, but by no means untidy. He was attentive to the road but there was a tiny smile playing about his lips. All Ritsuka could assume was that Seimei was happy to have him around, and that made him feel even more delighted inside. "Is it warm enough for you?" Seimei asked, pulling his eyes from the road and looking quickly at Ritsuka. "It must have been freezing out there." He looked back at Ritsuka again after that, glancing pointedly at his bare legs.

Ritsuka's hands were pressed between his knees, and Seimei's stare had him squeezing them tighter, self consciously.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," he said, and laughed nervously. "Kio dressed me again. He says it will attract customers, and I think Youji tried to rape me, so it must be working."

Seimei turned his head to look at Ritsuka again, eyes wide. He said nothing. Soon, the car began drift ever so slightly to the left, until it was actually veering out of its lane. Ritsuka was bewildered. What on earth was wrong? And then it clicked.

"Oh no! I didn't mean literally!" he said quickly.

Seimei exhaled, finally returning his eyes to the road and righting the car's trajectory. "You really ought not scare a criminal defense attorney that way," Seimei said. He sounded like he was trying to make a joke, but Ritsuka got the feeling that Seimei had been affected by the thought more than he was letting on.

"Sorry," he said, offering a reassuring smile. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm tougher than I look."

One side of Seimei's mouth twitched upward. He flicked on his right blinker and said, "Is that so?"

"It is. I've got a mean right hook." Ritsuka made an uppercut gesture that had Seimei chuckling beneath his breath.

Ritsuka was pretty certain Seimei wasn't buying it, and it was true that Ritsuka had never actually used any type of violent action toward anyone, but Seimei seemed amused and maybe even a little bit charmed. Ritsuka smiled, and this time his hands rested comfortably in his lap. Seimei made feeling relaxed easy.

"I see," Seimei said, smiling. "Well...what exactly happened on this 'figurative' attempted rape, then?"

Ritsuka immediately blushed. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to say that he was dancing on the street between Youji and Kano in order to stay warm and attract clientele. "Well...while I was waiting out there tonight...Youji was behind me and he sort of...danced with me." It sounded woefully inadequate even to Ritsuka's own ears. "Danced with you?" asked Seimei. "And this constituted rape?"

"Well..." Ritsuka began, "We were dancing...you know...where we were trying to attract...people. And Youji sort of...got enthusiastic about it." He hoped that Seimei would understand what he was trying to say without him having to actually say it.

"...ah." said Seimei.

Ritsuka said nothing, waiting to see how exactly Seimei would react. He couldn't tell if that "ah" was a good or bad one.

After a few beats of silence, Seimei said, "Would you ever consider dancing for me?"

Ritsuka was startled into silence for a few beats. He didn't want to say no; he wasn't even sure he COULD say no to a client. But dance? In front of Seimei? He'd rather shove bamboo shoots up his fingernails than subject himself to that humiliation.

He squeezed his hands between his knees again.

"Actually, that's why I called it almost-rape. I don't dance and Youji forced me. And Kano helped him. It was a gang dance-rape."

"Gang dance-rape, huh?" Seimei chuckled, and his voice was rich and throaty to Ritsuka's ears. "You make it all sound very risque. I'm sure you'd make a terrific dancer...you certainly have the body for it."

He cast a fleeting, sideways glance at Ritsuka's legs that made his stomach do a rather impressive somersault. He began hammering them together against his hands.

"Do you really think so? I never really considered before if I would be any good at it."

"It's safe to say that if you've impressed Youji, you must be deathly enticing."

"I want to impress you, not Youji," Ritsuka found himself saying, no forethought behind the words. Seimei's eyebrows shot up in what appeared to be a mixture of surprise and intrigue. Ritsuka was pretty sure he should be blushing and he probably was, but he carried on, some invisible stream of bravery flooding him. "Do you want me to dance for you? I could try…"

Ritsuka heard something that sounded like a hard swallow from Seimei's side of the car.

"I would love for you to dance for me," said Seimei, sounding completely certain. "When would it happen?"

Ritsuka thought that question meant that Seimei was eager for it. The invisible stream of bravery met a stream of pride, and together they mixed to form something heady and exciting. "Whenever you want...I could do it tonight, if you want." Seimei nodded. "I want." Again, no hesitation at all.

Inside the penthouse, Ritsuka felt comfortable enough to navigate toward the fireplace after Seimei had removed his jacket for him.

"Something to drink?" Seimei asked from behind him.

Ritsuka turned and met his gaze, warmed more by his smile than the flames in the grate. "Maybe just water this time."

Seimei's smile widened. "You still haven't forgiven yourself for the wine?"

Ritsuka shook his head, and Seimei pointed at the carpet where the incident had occurred. "But look there. Not the barest hint of wine. And you seem to be much less nervous this time."

"Strangely, you're right." He paused, "Maybe if you have something with flavor in a color that isn't as scary as red wine?"

"How do you feel about ginger ale?" Seimei asked.

Ritsuka nodded. "That's not scary."

Seimei chuckled, then disappeared into a kitchenette that Ritsuka hadn't noticed before. There came the sounds of a cabinet being opened and two glasses tinkling. Seimei reappeared soon after that, ginger ale for both of them in his hands, bubbling and fizzing merrily in glass tumblers. "I believe you ordered one entirely non-threatening beverage?" He asked solicitously, holding out one glass toward Ritsuka.

Ritsuka laughed, feeling his nose crinkle up. "It sounds ridiculous when you put it like that." He took the glass and added, "thanks."

"It's not ridiculous at all. In fact, it's quite endearing. I don't believe anyone else has ever cared this much about my carpet." He held out his glass, eyes twinkling, and Ritsuka clincked his against it. This ice chinked inside, soft light catching the bubbles as he watched Seimei take a sip.

He had a very nice mouth.

Seeming to sense Ritsuka's good mood, Seimei took his hand and led him into the sitting room. They took seats on the white couch there, where Ritsuka and Seimei had first kissed. Seimei was close enough to kiss right now. Ritsuka could feel his body heat where their thighs were touching.

"Ritsuka..." Seimei began, pausing to take another sip from his glass. "I remember you telling me that you sketch...have you completed any drawings lately?"

Frowning, Ritsuka thought about the last thing he had sketched: a wine glass, half full, with a couple chocolates beside it. That had been just before twilight, when Kio was reglossing Ritsuka's hair and nails for the night. He had been thinking about Seimei and hoping he'd come back tonight. He did.

Ritsuka felt his cheeks get hot and swished his ice around his glass, dropping his eyes. "I did one early this evening. It was just a doodle, really."

Seimei smiled. "I get the feeling somehow that you are understating. May I ask what it was?"

At this, Ritsuka's cheeks burned even brighter. He was sure that Seimei wouldn't be able to miss it. "Just a still life."

Seimei nodded at him, still with a smile plain on his face. His eyes were warm and welcoming. He looked like he had every faith that Ritsuka's drawing would be splendid - which made Ritsuka brave enough to say:

"I brought my sketchpad tonight...do you think you'd want to see some?"

Seimei's eyes became that much warmer. "I'd love to."

If Seimei wondered why Ritsuka had brought a sketchpad with him to the street, he didn't vocalize it. Ritsuka was glad; the reason he had brought it at all was because he had been hoping against hope that he'd be with Seimei again tonight, despite the other boy's promises that it would never happen.

"It's in the pocket of my jacket," he said, starting to rise. But Seimei stood quickly and held out his hands, motioning for Ritsuka to sit.

"No, please. Allow me?"

Ritsuka nodded, and he was almost positive Seimei didn't realize how much of a big deal that was. Ritsuka didn't like people looking at his sketchbook. And he certainly never allowed anyone to TOUCH it. But Seimei was just so... Ritsuka didn't even know. He trusted Seimei, for whatever reason.

And he did not trust deeply so easily.

Seimei disappeared into the foyer - where Ritsuka's jacket hung neatly on a coat hook. When he returned, the small black sketchbook was held in his hand, unopened. He sat down again, close to Ritsuka's side, and held out the little book.

"The leather is exquisite," Seimei remarked, referring to the leather cover on the front and back.

"It's not new or anything," Ritsuka hastened to assure him. "I've had it since I was little." The pages inside were brand new, however. Only the leather cover was aged. It had come from Ritsuka's old sketchbook, which had gotten rained on - and nearly completely ruined - during the days of Ritsuka's homelessness. Ritsuka had managed to salvage the leather cover from it, though. He neglected to tell Seimei that the previous sketchbook had been given to him by his mother - before the days when bruises and bleeding and broken wrists were more common gifts than anything else.

"New doesn't necessarily mean better...sometimes the things with the longest history are the most beautiful."

Privately, Ritsuka agreed, but it left him feeling like he was inadequate to Seimei compared to all Soubi's other boys, who had most definitely had a longer history with him.

With a sigh he hadn't wanted to escape him, Ritsuka edged a bit closer to Seimei and flipped open the sketchpad to the first drawing. It was the small koi pond in front of Chai's diner. The original had been among those that had been lost with his first sketch pad, but he'd returned to the diner with his new pad for a fresh drawing and a hot cup of tea.

In a way, the second was better; he hadn't been distracted by Soubi's silhouette in the reflection this time, and the result was soft and tranquil.

"This is in front of a diner on the far end of town. Way past the heart of the city, on the edge. I don't think a lot of people know about it."

"Chai's diner," said Seimei, shocking Ritsuka so badly he actually started. "I know it. ...I know it very well."

Something about Seimei's tone made Ritsuka reluctant to ask HOW Seimei knew it. He didn't sound happy about the place, or even nostalgic. He sounded...closed.

Ritsuka opted for something neutral to reply with. "The tea is great there," he said, and Seimei nodded in agreement.

Ritsuka flipped to the next sketch: an empty plot of land between two old, decrepit buildings. There was one lonely tree in the middle of the plot, nearly bare of leaves.

"Remarkable..." Seimei murmured, and he actually reached out to touch the drawing, looking mesmerized. "I've driven down this street a hundred times and it's like you've taken a photo of it, not made a drawing. Even the weeds are right." Ritsuka kept his eyes on the drawing, not on Seimei's face, afraid he'd stutter or stammer his words if he met his gaze. "I wanted to make it real. That place is so...sad."

Seimei nodded. "Like an abandoned child. An orphan."

Ritsuka looked at Seimei at that, only to find Seimei looking right back at him. The drawing was momentarily forgotten. Ritsuka was so surprised that Seimei understood exactly what he meant about the plot being sad...and he could see that Seimei was equally surprised himself.

He wanted to ask a thousand things; he wanted to know about Seimei, unveil everything underneath those hypnotizing eyes. He wanted to reach out and touch his face and feel him lean into the touch.

It wasn't appropriate, though; maybe in time. But then, maybe never. They weren't close. They weren't even friends.

Ritsuka forced himself to look back down and flip to the next. This was drawn from the bridge connecting the city to the suburbs on the north side; he captured it during a storm, and the sky was clouded with darkness.

"May I?" Seimei asked, and Ritsuka passed it to him. Seimei held the drawing up close and squinted at it, turned it to the side. He laughed shortly and turned it to Ritsuka. "This building here? This is the lawfirm where I work."

"Is it really?" Ritsuka asked, his eyes widening.

"Ritsuka, this is exquisite. The details are so precise that I'm able to pick out the very window to my office. This one here," he tapped one of the windows on the fourth floor.

Ritsuka fidgeted in his seat, picking at his nails. He didn't know how to respond to such high praise. He supposed he should say "thank you" but that felt like he was agreeing that his drawing was "exquisite." And yet, he didn't want to argue with Seimei.

He was saved from answering in the end, though, because Seimei spoke again. "Which reminds me...I really need to update the curtains in there," he said, and then laughed. Ritsuka's tension melted away and he laughed along, half grateful for the out and half charmed.

Seimei shook his head in wonder one last time at the image of city before turning to the next sketch. When he saw it, he pulled his hand away, slowly, as if reluctant to even touch the pages.

The image was one of Soubi, drawn when Ritsuka barely knew the man. His blond hair was down and flowing, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose like a delicate ornament. His expression in the sketch was neutral...almost inscrutable, but Seimei reacted as though the image were that of a ghost. He sat frozen in place, staring at the drawing with far-away eyes. There was something in his face...some sort of feeling...but Ritsuka couldn't place it. "This one is also...a remarkable likeness."

"Have you met Soubi?" Ritsuka asked, unable to stop himself. "Do you know him well?"

Seimei hesitated for the barest of moments before answering. "In a manner of speaking."

That was all he said. Then he flipped the page to the next drawing.

Ritsuka stared at Seimei a while, wanting so badly to press him for answers. That seemed like a pretty strong reaction to a person he simply did business with. But he reminded himself, reluctantly, that no matter how comfortable he felt with Seimei, this was only his third time meeting him. He had no idea if he sported a hot temper beneath his calm composure and cordially mannerisms.

Without a word, Ritsuka looked back to the sketchbook and watched as Seimei looked through the rest of them. A mother duck and her ducklings playing in a rain puddle; Kio with his cell in his hand, reading a text with a smile on his face; a windchime that hung on a rusted nail on the corner of Soubi's House; and finally, the wine glasses and chocolates.

Ritsuka froze, wondering if Seimei would realize Ritsuka had drawn it to remember his first night with him.

To his relief, Seimei broke out into a big smile.

"This one is charming..." Seimei said, trailing off into chuckles. He looked up to meet Ritsuka's eyes. "Didn't I tell you those chocolates were aphrodisiacs?" Ritsuka blushed and nodded, unable to keep a smile off his own face.

Seimei took one last look at the page before closing the sketchbook reverently and placing it on the coffee table before them. He turned back to Ritsuka, reaching out to touch the delicate bones in the back of his hand, looking thoughtful.

"You have a gift, Ritsuka..." Seimei said, speaking to their hands. "You're very talented. Thank you for showing your drawings to me."

"Thank you for wanting to see them," he said.

He didn't mention that no one ever took much of an interest in them before. No one but Soubi, anyway. But that was something that seemed to have fizzled out after Ritsuka had PUT OUT for him.

The thought made him angry, and it must have shown on his face, because Seimei was suddenly brushing his cheek with the back of his hand.

"Is something troubling you?"

It was amazing, Ritsuka thought, that Seimei was a lawyer and not a psychologist. He was just too damned easy to talk to. And that was BAD. It was so bad because it made Ritsuka like him so much more.

He shook his head. "I'm just a little ticked off at someone. It's nothing. Can we have more chocolates?"

He was babbling and squeezing his hands between his knees again. Seimei patted one of them good-naturedly and stood.

"Of course. My thoughts were beginning to lean in that direction as well."

Ritsuka was thankful Seimei missed his blush that time.

Seimei disappeared again, this time to the kitchen, Ritsuka assumed. He was only gone for mere moments, and when he returned there was a handful of brightly-wrapped chocolates in his hands. He set them down on the coffee table, allowing the chocolates to spill about in their own course.

When Seimei sat down again, he reached for one of them. Ritsuka watched closely as Seimei's large hands unwrapped it with care. To his surprise, Seimei leaned in close to him, holding the chocolate up to his mouth.

Ritsuka's skin broke out in a wave of heat. It was obvious that Seimei wanted to feed it to him. He opened his mouth obediently, and Seimei's fingers gently touched his lips, placing the chocolate on his tongue. Ritsuka didn't know how so much bravery had come to him in one single night, but he had enough left to kiss at Seimei's fingers as they began to pull away.

Seimei inhaled sharply enough that Ritsuka heard it. He froze, fingers still against Ritsuka's lips.

Deciding this reaction to be favorable, Ritsuka grew more bold, flicking his tongue out, tasting Seimei's skin. There was nothing but clean smoothness. Ritsuka kissed and licked the fingertips, eventually drawing one of them into his mouth, lips gliding down past the knuckles. He looked up from under his eyelids as he did. He wanted to gauge Seimei's reaction.

The man looked completely mesmerized: eyes bright, breathing shallow, cheeks flushed in the evening light.

This time, Ritsuka selected a chocolate, holding Seimei's stare as he unwrapped it and brought the morsel to his own lips. He took a slow, teasing bite; barely grazing the surface, and with a flicker of tongue that made Seimei swallow audibly. Ritsuka smirked and pressed it to Seimei's lips.

Seimei's lips were smooth, and shaped delicately, as if drawn by an artist's hand. There was a cupid's bow shape along the top while the bottom held a barely-there upward curve, which made Seimei seem as if he were always on the verge of a smile. They parted around the chocolate gently. Ritsuka felt the warmth of Seimei's breath against his fingers as the chocolate slipped inside Seimei's mouth. He lingered there, waiting to see if Seimei would toy with his fingertips as he had toyed with Seimei's.

He did. Ritsuka felt slick warmth engulf his finger, down past the second knuckle. He gasped involuntarily, then moaned as it retracted and he felt sharp teeth graze the pad of his fingertip. It was unexpectedly sensitive and send a jolt through his stomach.

He watched spellbound as Seimei repeated this on each of his other fingers, breath growing deeper by the second.

"Ritsuka," breathed Seimei, when he had finished. He had captured Ritsuka's wrist and was staring at him, his expression dark and sultry.

Ritsuka swallowed, and suddenly Seimei was on top of him, biting and sucking at his ear.

It wasn't long after that that Ritsuka felt Seimei's hands slipping up underneath his shirt. Seimei was single-minded in his pursuit, but still he managed to make every touch memorable. Ritsuka was slowly and steadily pulled under by the sensations - before he knew it, his bare legs were wrapped around Seimei's waist. When he realized he had done so, he was too far gone to feel embarrassed by it.

Seimei pressed his hips forward and the pair of them inhaled sharply. That was all it took for the rocking, rhythmic motions of sex to start between them.

On the car ride back to Soubi's house, Ritsuka had fallen asleep in the Rolls Royce; chin dipped to his chest and shoulder leaning against the armrest closest to Seimei.

He was woken gently by a warm hand over his own and a soft murmuring in his ear. Sitting up, he looked around blearily, seeing The Street empty of boys, but still dark. Most of the surrounding businesses had shut off their neon signs.

"Back at the house already," Ritsuka sighed, forgetting himself in his sleepiness. He didn't want Seimei to know just how much he would rather be staying in his penthouse.

"I'm afraid so," Seimei said with an apologetic smile. He squeezed Ritsuka's hand. "Thank you for a...thoroughly enjoyable evening." His eyes glittered.

Ritsuka huffed out a laugh, embarrassed. It seemed that his earlier bravado was waning as the night did. He opened the door and stepped out, murmuring a "goodnight" as he did so.
"Goodnight, Ritsuka."

He didn't spare a backwards glance. He didn't want Seimei to start feeling uncomfortable or, worse, pity. Soubi's House was nice, it was comfortable, he had warmth, plenty of food, clothes, and access to more beauty products than a runway supermodel, thanks to Big Bro Kio.

Really, it was rather pleasant there. He just liked Seimei more than anyone else inside this place.

He closed the door quietly, not wanting to wake anyone who had already gotten home. It was close to 3 am, the hour any boys without a client gave up for the night. There really wasn't any business after 2.

The lights were on in the foyer, though, and Ritsuka could see Soubi's office beyond it - also lit. It didn't take long for Ritsuka to see why. Just a moment later, the door of the office opened and out stepped Kano. His hair was dishelved and Ritsuka could see even from here that his clothes were rumpled.

Kano looked up as he shut the door behind him. His eyes found Ritsuka's. Kano smiled and winked, reaching down and zipping up the fly of his pants before heading up the staircase.

Completely nonplussed, Ritsuka stared after him until someone called his name. He looked around and realized he was standing in the slice of light falling from Soubi's open office door.

The man was visible behind his desk, looking as smooth and composed as ever, although Ritsuka knew what had been happening not minutes ago. He waited for the jealousy to pierce him, but it either wasn't coming or there was a delay, because it never reached him before Soubi beckoned him inside.

Ritsuka obligued, even though all he wanted in the world was to sink nose deep into his blankets and sleep.

When Ritsuka was inside the office, Soubi used his chin to point in the direction of the door.

"If you'd be so kind..." he said, and Ritsuka shut the door behind himself. He wondered what on Earth this was going to be about.

"Youji tells me Seimei Aoyagi came for you again tonight. Impossible, ridiculously rebellious nuisance he may be, but he is not one to lie. Is this true?"

Ritsuka quickly weighed his options. Something inside himself said that it was a bad idea to tell Soubi that Semei had in fact asked for him again...but he couldn't see how lying would be a better idea either.

"Yeah," Ritsuka said in the end. "It's true."

Soubi pushed his long hair back behind one of his ears, making a "hmm" sound.

"It's odd, isn't it?" he asked.

Ritsuka only stared.
"That Mr. Aoyagi came for you twice in a row. I'm sure you've heard from the other boys that he is very strict in not 'playing favorites.'"

Was this a trick question or something? Was Ritsuka in trouble? He couldn't see how he could possibly be. He went with a client and made Soubi money. Lots of money, from what he was aware. He wasn't exactly sure since Seimei had a private account with Soubi and chose to pay that way.

"I don't think he's playing favorites," he finally said, although secretly he hoped that's exactly what was going on. "Kio tells me he has varying tastes. Maybe he just happened to be craving my type twice in a row. You know. Like when you eat Mcdonald's for lunch and then dinner."

Soubi watched him, expression completely unreadable as he finished off a cigarette and stubbed it out in a ceramic ashtrash, painted with butterflies.

"You look like him...did you know that?" Soubi asked.

Ritsuka boggled. Him? Look like Seimei? Seimei was 100 percent, grade A, drop dead gorgeous. And Ritsuka was a scrawny thing who had to be worked on for hours by Kio to even be a functioning hooker.

"No, I don't." said Ritsuka bluntly.

"Oh, but you do," Soubi countered smoothly. He set his glasses a bit higher on the bridge of his nose, peering at Ritsuka keenly. "Your black hair...your skin...even something in your cheekbones...you look like him. Very like him."

Despite not believing a word of this blasphemy, Ritsuka felt his cheeks heating up. It wasn't that he was flattered, exactly; although being compared to Seimei certainly wasn't anything to sniff at. It was the way Soubi was watching him. Seeing him, but not, as if he were in a completely different time. And his expression had changed to something Ritsuka couldn't identify. It was openly something, but he couldn't make heads or tales of it. He only knew it made him uncomfortable.

"Strange coincidence, then," he said finally. "I hadn't noticed any resemblance and he hasn't seemed to either. He hasn't pointed it out, at least."

"Seimei..." Said Soubi, the name lingering on his lips. "he isn't much of a conversationalist. No. He wouldn't have said, would he? It's hard to know what's on his mind. WHO is on his mind."

Ritsuka felt oddly lost on these comments. In a way he agreed- there was no telling what exactly Seimei was thinking. He seemed pretty private. Then again, conversation seemed to be rather easy and natural between them. He thought Seimei was quite an amazing conversationalist.

"Ritsuka," said Soubi, patting his lap. He had pushed his chair back away from the desk a little. "Come here."

Ritsuka's stomach dropped. He almost couldn't believe that Soubi was asking for this right now. Hadn't Kano just been in here? And it was nearly 3 am...didn't the man need sleep? Not only that, he knew that Ritsuka had worked tonight...he seemed to have no consideration for that at all. Ritsuka almost couldn't believe it. Almost. In the end, some part of him was not surprised at all. When Soubi wanted one of the boys, Soubi got him.

Trying to remind himself that if not for Soubi, he would still be under his overpass, shivering and hungry, Ritsuka walked over and sat down in Soubi's lap.

As always, Soubi smelled of cigarette smoke, and the scent was much stronger up close.

"Seimei isn't very obedient either, is he?" asked Soubi, running his hands down Ritsuka's sides. He sounded like he didn't much care whether or not Ritsuka heard him. "Not like this..."

Soubi brought his lips to the back of Ritsuka's neck and suddenly froze, hands stilling on his sides. He breathed deeply, and Ritsuka shivered. "...you smell like him."

No shit, Ritsuka wanted to say. He felt like reminding Soubi that Seimei had just been writhing and sweating all over him and, really, it wasn't that surprising he smelled like the guy.

Soubi ran a whorehouse, for goodness's sake. Surely he ought to know that the boys took showers after work for precisely that reason?

A moment later, Ritsuka froze, feeling something firm pressing against his bottom. He felt Soubi's lips pressing against the back of his neck and along his shoulders - they hardly brushed against his skin but somehow that barely-there touch made him feel violated in a way he had never felt before. It felt like Soubi was lost inside himself.

Soubi's hands slid down to Ritsuka's hips and tightened on them, pulling Ritsuka closer against himself. He murmured quiet, black words into Ritsuka's ear.

"Did he take his pleasure from you this way...controlling...willing your body to respond? Did he make you wish that every moment would last just a little longer?"

He didn't know how he knew, but Soubi wasn't expecting an answer. Probably he wouldn't have even heard it if Ritsuka had answered. Soubi was gone, and Ritsuka just wanted this over with.

He bit into his lip, closed his eyes, and let Soubi have his way with him.

To Ritsuka's immense relief, Soubi was quick with him, and he was climbing the steps to his bedroom in no time. He thought briefly of popping in for a shower, but decided against it. Kio was going to scrub him pink and lotion and gloss him again tomorrow, no doubt. Ritsuka felt he could live with the grime for one night.

The other three boys were already in bed with the lights out, but Kio had a shadow box light he kept on while he slept, which sent patterns of hearts and butterflies spinning across the room.

Kio was asleep in his bunk, snoring softly and hugging a pillow with his arms and legs as if it were a person. His glasses had been removed along with the crazy amount of silver hoops normally decorating his ears. He looked oddly young, and sadly alone. For a moment, Ritsuka felt a swell of resentment toward Soubi for that.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jacket before glancing toward Natuso and Youji, who opted to share a twin sized bed rather than sleep apart.

Natsuo's wild hair was spread about the pillow, his arms wrapped around Youji. Youji's head was resting on his chest, and he was sleeping like a baby. Even in sleep, he curled toward Natsuo's body. Youji looked so fierce in daylight, and was always so brash and brazen. But now...he seemed so strangely vulnerable, and Natsuo seemed like a protector. Natsuo wasn't sleeping yet, Ritsuka realized belatedly. His hands were gliding smoothly over Youji's hair, back, and arms. Natsuo's eyes were closed, and Ritsuka could see even in the dim light of the shadow box, that he felt completely at peace.

It was almost too lovely for Ritsuka to bear. Youji and Natsuo were so in love - he'd never questioned that. But now, here, he could see that the love was tender and soft. Ritsuka ached for them inside. Their love was precious, and rare, and beautiful. And Ritsuka had no hope that he would ever, ever experience it for himself.

He slipped out of his skank clothes and into a soft t-shirt and boxers, then settled into bed and stared sightlessly up at the ceiling.

Because there was only one person he wanted to experience it with, and it was as impossible as trying to catch a falling star.

Slowly, he closed his eyes, an imagine of a smile and the memory of hot kisses rocking him into gentle sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED

As always, thanks for reading! Reviews are dearly appreciated!

- BratChild3 and Magic Mind