***Round 3***

Ryou stayed in the waiting room until they allowed him to see his sister. She was half out of it from both fatigue and pain meds, but Ryou sat beside her as long as he could, rambling about things they did when they were little, playground adventures, pretending the living room floor was lava and climbing over the furniture to escape into the kitchen, blanket forts and ghost stories. He didn't think she really heard any of it, but Ryou never stopped filling the room with the sounds of his voice. It was better than the harsh sound of the heart monitor.

When he had to leave, Ryou walked down the street, dazed and not sure where he was going. It wasn't until he saw the old, water-stained brick building rising from the grime of the city streets that Ryou realized he was going to see Mariku. He wasn't even sure why. He didn't want company. He wanted to lay in the gutter and pass out, but his feet carried him to the elevator door and he climbed inside.

Ryou didn't push the up button right away. He stared at it, wondering why he was there. It felt like neither the elevator nor the up button were real. Perhaps because they weren't real, and because his own bed was a twenty minute cab ride away, Ryou jabbed the button and stood as the wobbling elevator rebelled against gravity and lifted him to the top floor.

Mariku pulled open the gate, grinning and stepping into the elevator. He pressed Ryou against the wall. Ryou stood still, too tired to resist whatever overly-dramatic scene in which Mariku was about to engage.

"Well hello, little Bunny. I'll admit I didn't expect to see you back so soon. Are you so eager to see me?" A pocket knife appeared. Mariku teased it along Ryou's collarbone. "Or are you just here to donate the blood you promised for my art?"

"Whatever." Ryou closed his eyes and sighed. The surprising shock of cool metal against his breastbone felt nicer than Ryou would have liked to admit. "You said I could borrow your shower."

"Is it going to as fun as my bath?"

"I haven't slept in over two days."

Mariku pouted, slipping the knife back into his pocket. "Well bleeding you won't be nearly as fun if you faint right away."

"You're covered in white paint," Ryou said.

Mariku stared down at his bare chest and abs dappled in specks of white. "It washes off eventually."

Ryou reached out, rubbing one of the splotches with his pointer finger. It didn't come off, but Mariku's body felt warm and pleasant beneath Ryou's fingertip. "Do you have any clean towels?"

"Uh . . ." Mariku turned away.

Ryou frowned at the removal of warmth from his touch, but didn't complain as Mariku searched a drawer near the copper tub.

"Yes. One. Your lucky day, Bunny."

"Do you have a washer and dryer?"

"Two floors down."

"Where's your hamper?"

"Oh no, no, no. You're not going to be one those girlfriends that comes over and cleans things up and gets me to stop drinking."

"You should stop drinking, you know, and I'm not using your last clean towel."

Mariku growled. "Take your damn shower. I'll do my own damn laundry."

Ryou smiled, walking up to Mariku and taking the towel from his hand. Ryou noticed the little cut on Mariku's bottom lip from the night before and touched it. Mariku winced, but didn't pull away. A strange idea floated through Ryou's sleep-deprived mind. That he'd like to taste the cut he'd made, so he leaned forward and licked it. It was more of a kiss than anything, his lips brushing against Mariku's bottom lip and his tongue dabbing along the little slash of red.

Mariku gave him an evil grin, his voice a guttural whisper. "You sick fuck."

"Tell me to stop."

Mariku dug his fingers into Ryou's shoulders. "Like hell I will." He bent down and started kissing Ryou's swan-like neck.

Ryou closed his eyes, allowing his mind to float slightly away from his body. "No hickies."

"That's no fun."

"I'll slap you again."

"You better not, Bunny. Slap me again I will fuck you raw."

"Does pain turn you on that much?"

"Yes." The word was a hiss from his mouth, as if he were tempting Ryou to eat a pomegranate off of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Mariku nipped at Ryou's skin, causing the other male to gasp and lean his head back so that Mariku had more access. "Weren't you going to do laundry?"

"You distracted me."

"I feel too greasy for this."

"You started it."

Ryou pulled away. "I'm not thinking straight."

"Lame excuse." Mariku huffed, but grabbed a wicker hamper and carried it off to the elevator.

Ryou watched him go, frustrated that it'd been so easy to push the manic artist away. Mariku seemed the type to push, to take what he wanted and not stop until the third or fourth 'no'. That wasn't the case, however; more and more, Ryou realized that Mariku's tough act was another form of art, dark plum enamel covering a suit of armor to make it mysterious, but not any more effective.

A shower curtain hung suspended from a round bar over the copper tub, so Ryou was able to take a shower instead of a bath. He kept expecting Mariku to appear, to try and sneak his way into the shower and continue where he left off, but he never returned. Ryou gave up, washed his hair, and used Mairku's last clean towel to dry his body. He wandered over to the daybed, sitting on the comforter and tucking his head down in order to dry the back of his long, white hair.

Ryou considered using the elevator and searching for his missing host, but he couldn't bear the thought of standing back up, so Ryou lay down and closed his eyes. He didn't feel like he slept; he felt like he floated. After a time, he felt lips on his neck again. Ryou thought it was a dream and he reached out, clutching to the warmth surrounding him. Then he heard a husky, low voice telling him to wake up, and Ryou grew angry, hating to be woken.

"Go away," Ryou mumbled. "My head hurts."

"Sorry, Bunny, but it's time to wake up."

"No." Ryou lashed out with a weak fist, blindly striking what felt like a well-formed shoulder.

Ryou felt his hands go over his head. It woke him, somewhat, enough to make his eyes blink open. When the bleariness of sleep faded, he saw Mariku's face looming over his own. The artist looked sinister, deranged, like he wanted nothing more than to tie Ryou to a set of rail-road tracks and watch him explode into a splash of red paint when a train hit him, or maybe Ryou was still half asleep.

"Now Bunny, what did I tell you about smacking."

"No, that was slapping."

"Close enough."

"Who said you could kiss me when I'm sleeping?"

"You're in my bed, naked I might add."

"Still didn't say you could wake me like that."

"Oh fuck that."

Ryou shrugged. "If you don't want to get fisted, you should set an alarm to wake me up."

Mariku licked his lips. "Never said I didn't want to get fisted. You just need to stop hitting me if you don't want hickies."

Ryou blinked, then realized what he'd said and blushed. "I meant - oh you know what I meant. I don't wake up well. Don't even shake me. I'll smack you and go right back to sleep."

"Well, it's almost 4:45 now. I've been trying to wake you up for twenty minutes already."

Ryou sat up. "How is it so late?"

"You passed the fuck out."

Ryou rubbed his face, trying to fully wake himself.

"You need to visit your sister, right?"

"Oh shit." Ryou pushed himself to his feet, wobbling a little since he was still too tired to move. "I slept the whole damn day and I feel like I haven't slept at all. I think I feel worse than before."

"I bought you a toothbrush."

Ryou stopped and stared at Mariku. "A toothbrush?"

"Well, I figured you'd need one, so I got you that and some deodorant. I did your laundry with mine, so your clothes are cleaned." Mariku rolled his eyes. "Dammit, I told you not to be that kind of girlfriend. Haven't even slept with you yet and you already have your own toothbrush."

Ryou stumbled back to the bed, sitting down. He couldn't catch his breath. "Th-thank-you. You didn't have to."

"Tell that brat she better be painting."

"She doesn't have enough paint, or her good brushes, or her easel in her room."

Mariku grinned. "She should have them by now. I called my agent. Told him I'd have new work for him if he did me a few favors - that was one of the favors."

Ryou narrowed his gaze. "Why are you doing all this?"

Mariku shook his head, looking over to three easels he had set up, all covered in various colors - blacks and reds mostly, although one was only white. "I got bored with my own work. Couldn't paint. Started drinking. Can't paint for shit when I'm drunk, so the more I drank the more I couldn't paint, and the more I couldn't paint the more I wanted to drink. Then some punk kid comes along and challenges me to a race." Mariku shrugged. "Forgot how much I missed painting until last night when I came home."

Ryou started smiling.

Mariku scowled. "What? Fuck you, Bunny. Don't give me that look."

Ryou dressed and used the toiletries that Mariku had purchased for him, walking towards the elevator. "You know." He glanced behind him. "You're really cute."

"Oh fuck off."

"I dare say you're adorable."

"Get out of here right now before I shove your face against the floor and wear out your ass."

Ryou only laughed, stepping into the elevator.

"Hey, Ryou!"

Ryou paused, mouth hanging open at the use of his name. "Y-yeah?"

"Are you coming back?"

Ryou smiled again, staring at Mariku through the rusted cage door. "I'd have to bring an overnight bag so I could get ready for work in the morning."

Mariku crossed his arms over his chest. "Goddamit, first the toothbrush and now an entire bag?"

"Take a shower while I'm gone. Be thorough."

"Christ, now you're my mother making sure I wash behind my ears."

"It'll be worth the effort." Ryou pressed the button to descend.

He jogged to the hospital, already running late. Ryou feared that he'd spend another evening talking to a half-comatose Amane again, but as he stepped into her room she turned and smiled at him. She sat at a chair, paintbrush in hand.

"Ryou, look!"

He grinned. "I see. You better hurry, Mariku has three already started."

Amane snorted. "He's flighty. I'll have four finished before he gets those three done." She glanced back to Ryou. "What were you doing over there anyway?"

"I took a nap because it was closer to the hospital."

"Oh. A nap. I see."

"Yes, a nap."

"This isn't a Bronte novel, Ryou. Quit being so virtuous and have some fun before you die."

"Don't say it like that, Amane."

She shrugged. "Sorry. Figure of speech. But my point is still valid."

"So what are you painting?"

"A picture."

"Explain it to me."

"Well, this squiggles are some colors, and then these other squiggles are more colors, and in the end it represents my love for unicorns."

Ryou gave up, sitting on Amane's bed. "How is it that I've surrounded myself with facetious painters?"

"We're obviously your favorite people."

"So, you're feeling better now?"

"As long as I'm painting, I feel like I have a right to exist."

Ryou pursed his lips. Amane's words reminded him of Mariku, drinking himself into a self-created hell because he lost the will to paint. "Yup, you both are crazy."

"You know," Amane whispered into her canvas. "You don't have to visit me every day."

"The hell I don't."

"If you wanted a date night or something, I'm just saying, you can have a night off, Ryou."

"We're not having this conversation."

"Yes we are." Amane set down her brush. "One day this is going to be over, and you'll have to be alive, and you need to have a life to go back to when that happens."

"We're not having this conversation."

"Dammit, Ryou, stop dodging."

"I don't want to talk about this."

The green of her eyes flared up, a mix of anger and grief. "You have to. I can't sleep at night because I'm worried about you."

"Me? Amane, nothing is wrong with me."

"You've lost almost as much weight as I have."

"You're exaggerating."

"What did you eat today?"

"I . . ." he stopped. "We had all that cheesecake last night."

"That was last night. What did you eat today?"

"I slept today."

"Yeah, because you've been staying up all night, drinking coffee and not eating. Stop it."

"Okay. I'll make sure I eat. Just . . . don't worry."

Amane stared at her lap. "Please, Ryou, please . . . do something, okay? Anything. Go to a movie, or play one of your stupid games, just spend a few hours thinking about anything but me, okay?"

"That's not fair, Amane."

She ground her teeth. "Don't tell me what's not fair."

Ryou frowned, worried about how he was upsetting her. His mind struggled for something to tell her that would calm her down. "I don't need a date night, I - I had Italian with Mariku last night. So, see? I'm eating, and doing things. Stop worrying."

Amane gave him a suspicious look.

Ryou squirmed under her gaze. "And maybe I'm going back to his place tonight?"

With that she perked up. "Really?"

"Probably."

"You better."

Ryou sighed. "Amane, even if I get . . . attached to Mariku, this isn't a game. I can't just trade out one painter for another. When you - when it's time - it's going to hurt and you can't save me from that anymore than I can save you."

Amane picked up her paintbrush, staring at the canvas in order to avoid her brother. "At least there will be someone here to keep you from crawling into a hole. You know dad won't be here. Maybe for the funeral, but then he'll leave again."

Ryou started to chuckle. He wasn't amused, but he had a comic strip image in his head of himself crawling into a hole and Mariku crawling in behind him with a bottle of vodka and it made Ryou laugh.

"What the hell is so funny?"

"Nothing."

"You better tell me."

"I just . . . how's Mariku going to keep me from crawling into a hole when he's hiding in his own?"

"Fine, dammit, at least there will be someone to share a hole with."

After that their conversations fell into more casual topics. Amane even talked Ryou into slipping down to the cafeteria to split and order of french fries with her. She only ate three, but at least it felt like they were sharing food like they had during so many movie marathon weekends before she got sick.

Ryou didn't look forward to the subway ride back to his house, or the ride that would take him back to Mariku's place. It seemed a waste of an hour when Mariku lived so close to the hospital, but he needed clothes, and he figured it wouldn't hurt to bring his own shampoo and conditioner instead of mooching off of Mariku's toiletries.

At the last second, Ryou stashed a bottle of Gun Oil and a three-pack of condoms into a side pocket in his bag. He didn't intend to use them, but he figured he better have them. Ryou bit his bottom lip in thought as he traveled back to the other end of town. The mere fact that he'd packed condoms proved that he was more attached to Mariku that he'd like to admit. It was hard not to be - the cheesecake, washing Ryou's clothes, getting a toothbrush, and more than anything fixing it so Amane could have paints in her room - it was hard not to be attracted to Mariku. And he was gorgeous, that helped, but Ryou was more impressed by the fact that he had bought him a toothbrush.

Mariku's apartment smelt of jasmine again from the tub. Ryou felt his cheeks warm as the scent brought back memories. Mariku himself sat on a stool next to the island countertop. He wore paint-stained sweatpants and a towel wrapped around his shoulders.

He lifted up a plate and set it back down. "Want a sandwich? I bought groceries."

Ryou strolled over to the kitchen area. "Funny, you don't seem the type to ever buy groceries."

"That's the fucking problem with not drinking. It makes me hungry."

Ryou peeked over Mariku's shoulder. "What kind is it?"

"Turkey, baby swiss, chipotle mayo, rye-"

"You had me at rye."

"I told you, Bunny, serendipity. We're at the mercy of fate, destined to love the same sandwiches."

"I'm beginning to believe you, and I'm raiding your fridge."

Ryou pulled out the things he needed. He grinned with approval when Mariku's knife sliced right through the half-cut tomato. He wasn't used to single men having decent kitchen knifes; it was a nice change.

"I see the gleam in your eye, you sick fuck. You like the knife."

"It's sharp. I hate smashing into a tomato when I'm trying to slice it."

"A knife has to be sharp if one is to gut a little bunny and hang him from the ceiling."

Ryou flicked his eyes up at Mariku and then finished making his sandwich. "Bullshit. You wouldn't hurt me. You like me."

Mariku snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm still trying to get into your pants, that's all."

"I don't think so, I'm starting to figure you out, Mariku Ishtar." Ryou replaced the bread, meat, cheese, and vegetables into the fridge. "I have no doubt that all your violent stories are true, but you wouldn't hurt me."

Mariku frowned at his half-eaten sandwich. "Don't count on that. I already told you, I'm not stable. Three weeks from now I might be throwing a vodka bottle at your head."

Ryou bit into his own sandwich, sighing because it was perfect. "Maybe. Life's shitty that way."

"You are quite the jaded little Bunny."

"Amane is convinced that she will have four paintings completed before you finished your three."

"Probably, but I'll have two more started by then."

"Yes, but do unfinished works count?"

"No."

"Then you're going to lose unless you focus."

"We'll see."

"Is there any cheesecake left?"

"Yeah, way too damn much."

Ryou shoved the last bite into his mouth. "You did not just say 'too much' in relation to cheesecake."

Mariku smiled. "Yeah, I did. What are you going to do about it, Bunny?"

"Make you eat a slice with me." Ryou went to the fridge, getting a piece of vanilla bean for himself and a slice of turtle for Mariku.

He noticed Ryou's choices. "You keep eating the plan one. What is wrong with you? It's boring."

"No, not boring, pure. One flavor that I really like. Why should I add things when vanilla is already perfect?"

Mariku grabbed Ryou's hand, licking the tip of his finger. "Hmmm . . . maybe you have a point, Bunny, creamy, white, sweet, and perfect." He licked the underside of Ryou's wrist. "You really don't need any garnish."

"Y-you're making me blush. Quit."

"But I like when you blush. You look so fragile."

Ryou breathed through his mouth, eyelashes fluttering. Mariku leaned closer, and Ryou jumped to his feet. "I should wash these plates." He fumbled to get the plates cleared and washed, and then brushed his teeth - which is what he'd really wanted to do after eating a sandwich with chipotle mayo.

Mariku still sat at the island revelling in a sexually frustrated pout. Ryou sat on the daybed and patted the area beside him. Mariku watched Ryou for a moment before standing up. He, too, brushed his teeth before sitting next to Ryou.

Ryou licked his lips, as self-conscious about the taste of toothpaste as he'd been about the taste of spicy mayo. "I haven't forgotten."

Mariku raised an eyebrow, his face predatory. "Forgotten what, Bunny?"

"That I still owe you a blow job."

A dark chuckle shook Mariku's shoulders. "Oh that. It's hardly crossed my mind." He pushed Ryou against the mattress, hovering over him. "But as instructed I did take a very thorough shower."

Ryou admired Mariku's lavender eyes. They made him look more divine that mortal, a golden-haired aasimar. "Below the collar," Ryou whispered.

"What?"

"Suck below the collar. I don't want any marks showing when I go to work tomorrow."

Mariku's eyes clouded suspiciously as he stared at Ryou. "You're . . . and you're not going to smack me once I get started?'

Ryou narrowed his eyes. It was hard enough to open himself so much to a person, and he didn't like being questioned about it. "Please stop if I ask you to stop, but otherwise consider this your green light." Ryou jerked a little once he realized how the statement could be interpreted. "I mean your green light for kissing."

Mariku snorted, ripping Ryou's shirt over his head and going straight for his peony-colored nipple. Ryou gasped, staring at the high ceiling as Mariku sucked and flicked his tongue. He arched against Mariku's mouth, heart already thumping steady and quick in his chest as Mariku started to bite and suck around the areola.

Ryou clawed at the bedspread below him, but it wasn't enough. His fingers found Mariku's hair and he tugged at the angelic strands, but the pain from his hair-pulling only spurred Mariku to bite more fiercely. Ryou jerked each time teeth broke his skin, but then moaned at the sweet sucking that followed, pulling Mariku's hair again to make him repeat the process.

Mariku wandered down to Ryou's stomach, licking more than biting, and Ryou found himself bucking up, as if to beg attention towards his groin. Mariku pushed his hand between Ryou's legs, encouraging the growing erection pressing against the fabric. Ryou threw his head back, bumping it against the sideboard.

"Ow, fuck!" Ryou rubbed the crown of his head.

"You okay, Bunny?" Mariku laughed, but he stopped his ministrations long enough to check Ryou's head.

"There's not enough room. Help me pull the mattress to the floor."

Mariku gave Ryou a funny look, but humored him. After the mattress landed with a graceless thump against the floor, Ryou pushed Mariku down, crashing on top of him and fluttering kisses along Mariku's neck.

Mariku sighed, combing Ryou's hair with his dark fingers. Ryou struggled to slip his hands down Mariku's sweatpants, toying with Mariku's erection.

"Mmmmm, Bunny."

"Mariku," Ryou whispered as he shifted lower. His kisses circled around Mariku's navel and he clawed at the band of Mariku's sweatpants, pulling the material away from Mariku's legs. Again, he noticed how Mariku never bothered with boxers or briefs, and Ryou giggled, feeling guilty at how happy he was at the moment. It didn't seem right, to be happy with his sister in the hospital.

Ryou started at the thigh, golden brown and smooth with a thick layer of muscle beneath. He alternated between gentle kissing and rough biting, listening to the different sounds Mariku made with each movement. He ran his tongue in circles around Mariku's sack.

"Bunny," Mariku near sang as Ryou's tongue worked.

"You shaved."

"Y-yeah," there was almost a question to his response, as if asking Ryou if he minded the fact.

"I like it, some guys don't bother."

"Well, now you're with quality." Mariku teased, but his laughter turned to a long moan when Ryou began sucking on his sack. "Bunny, don't stop that."

Ryou obliged, taking his time, occasionally biting Mariku's thighs and then going back to his nuts. When everything was slick, Ryou decided to move down, circling his tongue along the rim of Mariku's anus.

"Oh Bunny. Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, Ryou, yes, more."

Ryou took more to mean a broad, slow lick, and he was rewarded by a delighted squeal escaping from Mariku's mouth. Ryou gave Mariku three more licks before jabbing his tongue as deep as he could fit into Mariku's entrance. Mariku's thighs quivered as he continued to cry out. Once saturated, Ryou slipped a finger inside and only then did he start the actual blow job. With one finger still pressed knuckle deep inside Mariku's body, Ryou used his other hand to hold the base of Mariku's cock steady so he could bob his head up and down.

Mariku hardly registered the first finger, but when Ryou added a second Mariku lifted up his head, eyes clouded with lust and pleasure. "R-ryou, what are you . . ."

Ryou pulled back enough to speak, staring at Mariku with acid-green eyes. "You said you weren't opposed to fisting."

Mariku laid his head back. "Oh shit."

"Unless you don't want to," Ryou said, unsure of himself. "I could-"

"Do it," Mariku cut Ryou off. "Do it." He started shifting his hips, pressing against Ryou's two fingers and muttering with a graveled voice. "Do it."

"Want lube?"

"I . . . don't have any," Mariku said, almost as an apology.

Ryou smiled. "I do."

Mariku feigned a shocked gasp. "Wicked, shameful Bunny."

The bag was already near the bed. Ryou pulled it closer and found the little blue and orange bottle. He coated his fingers, going straight for three since his hand was now slippery. Mariku gasped, mouth wide open, eyes half open. Ryou sealed his lips around Mariku's shaft, waiting until Mariku's cries grew loud and wanton before adding the last finger.

Mariku swelled thick, thick, head plump and seeping, shaft full and twitching. Ryou timed his breaths in careful rhythm to his head bobs, allowing Mariku's tip to rub against the back of his throat. Mariku released a jumbled, wailing sound, and Ryou took it as his cue to back off slightly so he didn't choke when Mariku came. The first burst was warm, always warmer than Ryou remembered, although it'd been a few years since he'd even gone this far with someone so his memory was fuzzy.

Ryou swallowed twice, looking up afterwards to admire his handiwork. Mariku's face glowed a healthy wine-hue, his hair sprayed out against the pillow behind him, and his eyes looked dream-lost. Ryou smiled. The sight of Mariku made his own erection ache. Ryou found himself kissing up Mariku's belly and to his chest, still wired with desire and unresolved tension.

"Ryou . . ."

"Hmmmm?"

"I've never . . . that was better than . . ." Mariku gasped and shuddered as if reliving his climax all over again. "Holy shit." He looked up at Ryou again. "Do you want to finish? You can, if you want. You can . . . you can do anything you want, anything, Bunny."

Ryou blushed when he understood what Mariku was offering. Not simply sex, but the opportunity for Ryou to take it all for himself, an unselfish offer of flesh in which Mariku wouldn't directly benefit, having already came, pleasure for the sole sake of Ryou's own experience. He shook his head. "I-I can't. It's too soon."

"Oh." Mariku's eyes looked rueful at the answer and Ryou felt guilty for it.

He even wanted to do it, or at least he wanted to want to, but he wasn't ready. Mariku pulled Ryou down until their faces hovered close. "Come here," Mariku whispered, kissing Ryou on the mouth, sucking his own taste off of Ryou's tongue.

Mariku slid his hand down Ryou's stomach, finding his length and teasing it with thick fingers. Ryou used his lube-slick hand to coat his erection with a thin sheen of lubrication before Mariku grabbed him again. Ryou rocked into Mariku's fist, pretending that he was inside Mariku. Although it was his own choice not to be, the fantasy still drove Ryou on, making him thrust faster and bringing him to a quick, hard, delirious climax. He crashed on top of Mariku's chest, sputtering for a breath he couldn't catch.

Mariku wrapped his arms and legs around Ryou's body, growling in a possessive tone. "My Bunny."

"Not your bunny." Ryou smiled, eyes closed, breath finally filling his lungs.

"Yes you are. You're my White Rabbit."

"Because you'll chase me down the rabbit hole when I utterly lose my shit?" Ryou asked, thinking of his and Amane's earlier conversation.

Mariku snorted, refusing to let go. "More like I'll meet you there."

Ryou nodded, eyes fluttering open enough to catch a glimpse of the bronzed chest he used as a pillow. "At least neither one of us will have to be alone, then. We can paint the roses red together."

"I do love to paint."