***Somehow all the smut got condensed into this chapter, so disclaimer - lemons and stuff.***

The week settled into a routine. Work, then straight to the hospital, then he'd swing by Mariku's place for a late dinner. He spent every other night with Mariku, fearing that things already moved too fast, fearing that he already cared far too much. On the nights he went home, Mariku insisted on giving Ryou a ride on his motorbike, and again Ryou feared that he already cared far too much.

That weekend, Mariku went with Ryou to visit Amane. They taunted each other, compared works, praised and criticized in equal measures, and boasted how much better their work would be the next weekend.

And, watching them together like old friends, Ryou feared that he already cared far too much. But he couldn't stop himself.

Mariku started working on a larger piece. He never allowed Ryou a peek, covered it with a drape when Ryou came to visit, and if Ryou asked about it, Mariku would only kiss him in reply.

The second week went on much as the first, and then the third, and then a month, and that was when Ryou realized that it had become his new normal. Hospital trips, and worry, and tears when Amane had bad days, and copper arms surrounding him, and the smell of paint reminding him of everyone he loved.

Then one of Amane's bad days dragged on to two, then three, then a bad week. Ryou called in to work, stayed in the lobby when he wasn't allowed in Amane's room, and refused to leave the hospital because he knew, knew the second he did she would die and he'd never forgive himself for letting her die alone.

On the seventh night, Ryou sat curled in a lobby chair with a hoodie wrapped around his front. He stared with sleepless eyes at a fake plant, angry that no one had dusted it, thirsty from too many tears, and too tired to stumble to the drinking fountain.

A shadow slipped over Ryou. He shifted his eyes and saw Mariku staring at him. Ryou's gaze sank back to the dusty, silk leaves. "No. Whatever you're about to say the answer is no."

"Fine." Mariku left.

Ryou hid his face behind his hoodie, sobbing again, thinking the least Mariku could have done was argue a little. He didn't have to leave like it was so easy to do. He could have at least pretended he wanted to stay, despite Ryou telling him to go away.

Five minutes passed and Ryou realized the shadow was back. He peeked from behind his hoodie, seeing Mariku with two paper cups filled with coffee. He offered Ryou one of the two cups. "Double sugar, double cream."

Ryou reached out for it, holding it instead of drinking it. "Have I become that girlfriend already?"

Mariku gave him a tired half-smile, sitting beside him. "Fucking hell, you have three of my drawers at this point and I keep almond milk in the fridge."

"Well shit." Ryou drank a sip from his cup. "You were only supposed to be a distraction, but you double so nicely as a hotel room."

"Told you that first day - a mutually satisfying relationship, Bunny."

Ryou sighed, horrified at the way the nickname made him feel better. When did that happen? Somewhere between slices of cheesecake and blowjobs, but Ryou wasn't sure exactly when the change became so real.

"How is she?"

"Bad." Ryou held his breath, took a drink, exhaled only when he had to. "So bad."

"Ryou, come home."

Ryou flinched, at the use of his name, at the use of the term home, at the tone in Mariku's voice. "I can't. I . . . can't. I have to stay here."

"We'll come back for morning visitation. I'll come with you, but you need to shower, and you need to sleep in a bed, and you need to eat something not from a cafeteria."

"Mariku, I can't. If she . . . If she, if - oh god if something happens and I'm not here-"

Mariku grabbed Ryou's chin, forcing Ryou to look into Mariku's lavender eyes. "You know if she saw you right now she would be screaming pissed."

"I know."

"Then come home."

"Home?" Ryou tried to laugh, but it was more sob than myrth.

"Yes home with me."

Ryou gasped, borderline hyperventilating. "I have to stay - I have to be here when - when it happens. I have to - I have to."

"Ryou, no. You have to sleep. Real sleep, not just naps."

"She's going to die!" Ryou screamed; it was the first time he brought himself to say it out loud. He dropped the coffee, buried his face in Mariku's chest, and wailed. "I can't leave her. Please, let me stay a little longer."

Mariku crushed Ryou in his arms, rocking them. "Then I'm staying too."

Ryou couldn't feel one way or the other about the statement. A gaping, numb grief swallowed his chest and rendered all other emotions beyond his reach, but Ryou nodded and then allowed himself to cry. He'd had personal breakdowns, but this was the first time he allowed someone else to fully see his sorrow.

Mariku kissed the crown of Ryou's head. "Shhh, Bunny, shhh, I'm right here, okay? You're not doing this by yourself, you got me?"

Mariku stayed, and on the ninth day Amane woke up like a princess kissed by Prince Charming. She laughed, and teased them for looking like shit, and painted as if possessed by a leannán sí - a fay-muse that grated inspiration at the cost of the artist's life. The doctors told Ryou not to hope, that it was a temporary reprieve, but Ryou didn't give a damn. It was a reprieve, temporary or otherwise, and Ryou was grateful for it.

After their visit, Mariku took Ryou's hand. "Can we please go take a fucking shower now?"

Ryou nodded, unable to speak, too many thoughts swirled around his head and it was easier to let Mariku drag him outside and drive him back to Mariku's place on the back of a black Ducati. In the studio, Mariku pulled off Ryou's clothing like he didn't trust Ryou to do it himself. Ryou half-expected Mariku to try and fool around, it'd been over a week since they'd touched each other, but all the artist did was run a hot bath and pull Ryou into the jasmine-scented bubbles.

Ryou sat, dull and listless, in between Mariku's legs as Mariku washed their hair.

"You need sleep," Mariku said, combing Ryou's just-rinsed locks with his fingers. "People are going to think I'm a vampire feeding off of you if the circles under your eyes get any bigger."

"Wouldn't that be good for your art?"

"Yes, but Amane would chunk a paintbrush at my head."

After the bath Mariku dried them both with towels, and Ryou passively accepted the treatment, too tired to stop it, protest, or even register that it was happening in real life and not a dream. Mariku didn't bother with clothes. He dragged them both to his daybed and wrapped them beneath the covers, petting Ryou's hair all the while.

"What's this for?" Ryou asked, his voice a breeze weaving through the air, soft, almost nonexistent.

"I'm trying to get you to sleep."

"Why?"

Mariku looked at Ryou. "Because you're exhausted, Bunny."

"But why? Why? You can't ... care. I liked it better when you threatened to gut me."

"Can't I care?"

Ryou shook his head no.

"Fuck you, Ryou."

Ryou hid in Mariku's chest, sobbing. He wasn't sure why. It wasn't exactly because of Amane, although everything tied back to the inevitable truth of her death.

"Goddammit, Bunny, stop crying." Mariku squeezed Ryou hard into his arms, breathing into Ryou's hair.

He lay there, holding Ryou until they both fell asleep crunched together in a bed that was a little too small for two grown men, but they'd been making it work for weeks.

Ryou woke up in Mariku's arms in the middle of the night. He felt stuffy from their shared body heat. He also felt hyper-aroused, as if a good hard sleep was all he needed to awaken his sense of lust. It didn't help that Mariku held him as if he were afraid Ryou may disappear - that made Ryou want Mariku even more. It also didn't help that the sleeping Mariku's erection rubbed against the inside of Ryou's thigh.

Ryou tried to shift, but Mariku latched on more tightly, grinding against Ryou out of reflex.

Ryou swallowed. "Mariku?"

His bed-mate gave a grunt, pressed a little harder into Ryou's thigh, but otherwise stayed asleep. Ryou felt himself growing stiff, his breathing deepened. His lips almost touched Mariku's chest because of how close they lay, and Ryou succumbed to the urge to kiss the muscle beneath Mariku's cumin-colored skin.

"Mariku," Ryou whispered into his kisses, shifting his body weight so that Mariku's hard-on continued to brush up and down Ryou's sweat-slick thigh.

"Mmmmm ..." Mariku moaned at the sensual contact, pressing up on reflex once more and, whether by luck or fate, managing to slip higher up Ryou's thigh and close to Ryou's entrance.

Ryou gnashed his teeth against his bottom lip and groaned as the light, teasing contact made his budding desire fully bloom.

Mariku's eyes fluttered open. "Bunny?"

Ryou circled his hips to taunt Mariku awake. His voice was dry and husky. "You can, if you want. You can."

Mariku slid his hands down to Ryou's waist, and pulled them closer together. He stifled a wanting grunt, but then paused, giving Ryou a suspicious look. "Is this what you really want? Or is this a manifestation of your earlier breakdown?"

Ryou froze at the question, hurt by it. "I can't sleep," he said in a dull voice. "I thought this would make you happy."

Mariku sat up, pulling Ryou into his lap. "I don't want to be happy. I want you to be okay."

Ryou turned his head. "That has nothing to do with ... this."

Mariku grabbed Ryou's face and pulled it back so their eyes met. Ryou winced. Mariku's hold hurt, but Ryou couldn't move.

"You're not the only one damaged inside." His words were closer to a beast's growling than a human's speech. "You're not the only one afraid to let someone in." He stopped, staring at Ryou and breathing hard. His next words were whispered. "I could have that first day, fucked you and then just shrugged you off like a hangover if you had pushed me away afterward, but now ..."

What Ryou saw in Mariku's eyes frightened him - sincerity - such clear, pure sincerity that it seemed to well up and spill down Mariku's cheeks, but Ryou knew better. It wasn't an abstract emotion that leaked down Marik's face, only tears. Regular, saltwater tears, the same kind that Ryou cried.

His grip still hurt Ryou's face. His words shuddered from his mouth. "If you hurt me, I will destroy you. I will burn this place down to the ground with you in it."

"Hey," Ryou reached out, holding Mariku's face in return only more gently.

"I'm sorry your sister is going to die, but I can't be a distraction anymore, and don't you ever, fucking ever, accuse me of not caring again like earlier."

Ryou shook. The acid in his stomach burned, and his own tears trickled over Mariku's fingers. "I'm ... going to break when it happens. I'm going to shatter and crumble to the floor, and I can't stop that, but-" Ryou sniffed, trying to rein in the grief pouring down his face, "- if you want to be there ... if you want me even broken ... I won't push you away. You can lay on the ground and be broken with me."

"I'm used to being broken on the ground," Mariku whispered, his grip on Ryou's face became soft. "That's where you found me."

Ryou leaned forward, lips tickling across Mariku's lips. They both tasted of saltwater and heat. Mariku closed his eyes and opened his mouth. Their tongues pressed shy and insecure into one another's mouths.

Their fingers slipped down each other's cheeks, resting on naked shoulders or bare thighs. Ryou lifted his hips and eased them back into Mariku's lap, allowing the soft movement to recapture the arousal they both lost during their emotional outpour.

"Mariku ... I want you."

"Bunny, you have me."

A lump knotted in Ryou's throat. He swallowed, but it didn't go away until Mariku kissed along Ryou's neck.

Ryou sighed and leaned back. "Lay me down and get the lube."

Mariku obeyed, kissing Ryou's groin as he prepped him. They almost always used their fingers when they pleased each other, so the touch was familiar and made Ryou's insides feel warm with delight.

Mariku pulled his hand away and sheathed himself into Ryou's body. Ryou held his breath, drawing up his knees and holding one in each hand to keep himself spread for Mariku. The artist drew out each thrust, letting Ryou feel the entirety of his length for each push and each pull.

Mariku closed his eyes, mouth ajar as he moved. Ryou watched the expression on Mariku's face. It made little paper wings flutter from this navel down to his balls.

"Bunny," Mariku exhaled, kissing Ryou's temples as he kept a languid pace.

Ryou let go of one knee to brush his hand along Mariku's chest. They kept their bodies close, kept reinforcing each other with light kisses or delicate swivels of their fingertips. After a time, the yearning sensation that stabbed through Ryou's center became too much. His hand trailed down his stomach until his fingers reached his erection.

Ryou grabbed himself, stroking fast as Mariku maneuvered slow. Mariku kissed the corner of Ryou's mouth, smiling. "That's right, Bunny, cum for me."

Ryou let out a little squeak, hand steady and desire climbing.

Mariku changed his rhythm, thrust-thrust-slam, thrust-thrust-slam, and the consistent, stressed slams combined with Ryou's own quick tempo gave him a blinding orgasm that started at the base of his cock and spread up and out along his belly.

Mariku quickened his own pace before Ryou finished. He grabbed the backs of Ryou's thighs and pushed his hips slightly off of the mattress. A high pitched vowel sang from Mariku's throat as he came.

Ryou eased his hips down, and Mariku wrapped his arms and legs around Ryou. "My Bunny."

Ryou smiled, remembering that they'd said something like this to each other before. "Yeah ... I'm your White Rabbit."

They both slept until late the next day, and Ryou was cross with himself because he showed up over forty minutes late to see Amane. She only laughed at him and said it was about time he slept in, but Ryou still hated himself for it.

Going back to work was an agony for him. He couldn't see Amane on mornings that he worked, only afternoons, and he felt like he was failing as a big brother not being there more.

He spent three nights in a row with Mariku, but then went back to his own house. Ryou had to toss everything perishable away and ended up having an unenthusiastic dinner consisting of Maruchan and frozen chicken nuggets that he ate alone in a quiet kitchen at a table that was far too big for one.

That night, Ryou stared at the dark ceiling, his brain alternating between Mariku and Amane, and somewhere in between he broke into tears because the two bedroom house that he once shared with Amane (their college pad as they liked to call it) was empty, and he couldn't take it.

Ryou curled his white palm into a fist and beat it against his pillow. He cast his blanket to the floor and slipped into fresh clothes. Ryou called a cab, and as he waited, he packed two boxes - one filled with the last foodstuffs in his kitchen, and the other with both his and Amane's house plants.

He was never sleeping in that house again, he realized as he packed the boxes into the trunk of the cab.

He showed up at Mariku's place at 3 a.m. Mariku gave him a key for the elevator cage a few weeks prior.

Ryou expected dark and quiet, but Mariku had the lights on and the radio playing. Orange, yellow, and scarlet paint decorated him like autumn.

"Bunny?"

"Am I interrupting?"

Mariku shook his head. "I couldn't sleep, so I said fuck it, might as well paint."

"I couldn't sleep either." Ryou smiled. "So I decided to come home."

Mariku dropped his brush into a cup of water and slinked towards Ryou. Ryou ran to meet him, jumping into his arms and kissing him. He'd never wanted to kiss more than at that moment. Even after Mariku carried him to the bed and prepped him, even after Mariku lifted him back into the air and slammed Ryou against the wall, Ryou sucked on Mariku's lips and the shell of his ear, or kissed his neck and shoulders. Anything Ryou could reach with his mouth he sucked, or licked, or lavished with brushes of his lips.

He kept his arms and legs wrapped around Mariku's body. Mariku threw back his head and cried out his orgasm, his knees buckling as he came. He stumbled to the bed, setting Ryou on the mattress and dropping to his knees.

Ryou sat up to see if Mariku was okay, but Mariku pushed him back against the mattress, kissing below Ryou's navel. Ryou squeezed his eyes shut and pushed towards Mariku's lips. He didn't tease Ryou or make him wait. He went straight for Ryou's cock and sucked. Ryou held his breath, turned on more so by the noises Mariku made, smacking, sucking, and little purrs of eager approval. Ryou let his breath stutter from his chest, gripping the sheets with fingers and nails, clenching his body. His stomach knotted in anticipation, and Ryou howled when release dawned on him like the sun.

Mariku curled up on the bed besides Ryou and closed his eyes.

Ryou gasped for breath. "Do you still need to paint?"

Mariku gave a sleepy huff of breath in response.

Ryou smiled. "I want my bed. It's big enough for adults."

"Never needed a bigger bed before," Mariku mumbled.

"Well . . . you do now."

Mariku chuckled, burying his face in Ryou's hair. "But Bunny, we're so close like this."

Ryou opened his mouth to argue, but found his words swallowed up by his own smile. Instead he closed his eyes and let the sounds of Mariku's breathing ease him into sleep. It was too early in the morning when he had to wake up for work. Leaving Mariku's bronzed arms to shuffle around on the cold floor seemed like madness, but Ryou started a pot of coffee and let the caffeinated elixir drip while he showered and dressed for the day.

It was his normal routine. Work, hospital, dinner with Mariku, everything spiraled as before. Amane had good days. Amane had bad days. Amane had days where she'd finish another painting and rub in into Mariku's face, and Amane had days where she could do nothing more but sleep as Ryou spoke to her in the quiet of her room.

Ryou thought himself prepared, thought he'd seen what Amane's illness was doing to her and accepted it, but in the hospital she lost even more weight, her body sucking in on itself nothing but white linen wrapped over bones. Her eyes stayed bright, but there was always a glaze to them, and Ryou didn't know if it was pain or meds causing it, but either way he hated it.

Two weeks after Ryou moved in (officially) with Mariku, it stormed. By the time he reached the hospital, his clothes and hair dripped. A nurse, who Ryou had seen so many times that they were almost sort of friends, gave him a towel so he could dry himself, making Ryou a few minutes late for his visit.

He gasped when he entered Amane's room.

She sat on the bed, a wide grin on her face, and Mariku sat in a chair beside her with a similar grin. On the wall across from them was a huge mural, the painting Mariku always kept hidden when Ryou was home. The image was of clouds at sunset - the corners were storm clouds, dark and threatening an inevitable storm, but most of the picture was consumed by fire, an almost living light.

"Do you like it?" Mariku asked. "I've named it Amane Conquers Heaven."

Ryou still held the towel, and he pretended to dry himself a little more as he wiped tears out of his eyes. "It's . . .wow, Mariku."

"And with this." Amane's grin melted into a soft, pleased smile. "My bucket list is now complete."

"What the hell?" Mariku asked. "Our race isn't over, yet. This one doesn't even count. That was the real reason your brother came to my studio. We never told you, but he wanted you to have your own painting."

Amane turned to him. "Ryou you would."

Ryou sniffed a little. "Well, that bowl of fruit was so damn ugly."

"I fucking know, right?" Amane laughed. "It means a lot, not just that you got him to paint it . . . but you inadvertently got him to play with the one concept I always wanted in Ishtar works - light."

Mariku and Ryou turned back towards the painting together, as if they needed to see it again to realize it was true. That first day, everything in Mariku's apartment had been plays on blacks, sables, violets, and crimson. Ryou had been so preoccupied with everything else happening, he never realized that, more and more, Mariku had been adding other colors - gold, ocher, white. Ryou held his breath as he thought of all the paintings sitting on easels back at their studio home. Mariku had bled Ryou onto his work after all, but not the red of his blood, but the white of his body, his skin, his hair.

"Huh." Mariku shrugged as if he'd never noticed either, but Ryou suspected otherwise. "All my goth fans are going to be pissed."

"I don't think so." Amane shook her head. "Your light is fire. It's as violent and destructive as ever, and your fans will always love you."

"As long as my reputation is safe." He snorted. "They can never know how lazy I've gotten with the whole abusive alcoholic maniac persona."

Amane snickered. "Just give Ryou hickies and space them to look like fingerprints on his neck."

Mariku rubbed his chin as if considering it. "Hey, that's not a bad idea."

Ryou rolled his eyes, deciding not to comment. It would only encourage them.

Mariku scratched the back of his spiky hair, giving Ryou a disapproving look. "Cafeteria for dinner?"

Ryou glanced out the slit of window not covered in gaudy curtain. "It's still pouring outside, so we better."

"You assholes don't have to be here. Go home."

"No," Mariku said. "Bunny has to stay here and stare at that damn picture. After all the trouble he went through, he deserves a chance to look at it."

Ryou smiled, but Amane rolled her glacial green eyes. After Mariku left she patted to the edge of her bed to encourage Ryou to sit down.

Amane stared at her nightgown, which meant the conversation would be too serious to look Ryou in the eyes. "It's not like you had to get a boyfriend. I mean, all right, I did try to set you up a hundred times, but not because you needed a relationship to validate you or anything stupid like that. I just wanted you to go places and do things."

"I do, Amane, and this time I mean it, so please don't worry about me."

"See, that's just it." Amane smiled. "I'm not. I really think you'll be okay now, and that-" she closed her eyes, a few tears slipping into the hollow of her cheeks. "-I'm glad, you know?"

Ryou wrapped his arms around her, hugging tight. He didn't cry because he wanted to be strong for her, but inside he ached.

"And holy shit I have my own Ishtar sitting in front of my face. How cool is that?"

Mariku returned with a tray overloaded with random things to eat. They all picked at it, their conversations veered down well-worn roads of dialogue. It wasn't until a nurse came in to change Amane's IV that they realized they should have left fifteen minutes prior.

Mariku hadn't taken his motorcycle since he had the painting, so they jogged home together. Their feet splashed across flooded concrete as they raced from awning to awning. The lightning made Ryou nervous and he flinched every time the sky lit up.

Mariku laughed, slinging his arm around Ryou's shoulder and keeping their bodies near. "Don't worry, Bunny, I won't let the storm hurt you."

"This from the guy with lightning rods for hair."

"Hell, how do you think I got this hair?"

"That makes way too much sense, actually."

They reached their home, standing side by side as the elevator carried them up. At night, darkness consumed the elevator except for the floor counter above the door. Shadows played tricks on Mariku's face, transforming him into a fiend that belonged in the dark. Ryou flung himself as Mariku at that moment, swallowing up Mariku's bottom lip.

The artist groaned, sinking into the kiss and into Ryou's arms. When the elevator stopped, they fought their way into the studio even as they fought to rip the clothes from their bodies.

"Is this my thank you, Bunny?"

"Yes," Ryou answered, bending Mariku over the futon. Ryou sucked his own fingers and then used them to press into Mariku's body. The artist exhaled loud, rugged pants from the rough foreplay, but spread his feet wider to give Ryou better access.

"Tell me if I get too rough."

Mariku laughed, shoving his ass backwards into Ryou's pressing fingers. "Believe me, Bunny, a sweet thing like you isn't capable of going too far."

"Stay there." Ryou sprinted to the other side of the room where their lube sat on a nightstand.

He raced back to Mariku, slamming straight into Mariku's entrance without giving Mariku time to adjust. Mariku grunted, holding the back of the futon for support and hiking his hips back. Ryou locked his fingers into Mariku's sloppy net of hair and pulled hard enough for Mariku's head to jolt back.

Lightning flickered through the windows, sending shards of dark colored light across the room. Red and violet danced up their bodies. The lights accented the scars on Mariku's back. Ryou stared at the grotesque beauty of them, how they rose tawny and proud above the rest of Mariku's dark skin.

"Harder!" Mariku growled.

Ryou released Mariku's hair, digging his nails into Mariku's hips for leverage. The heat of Mariku's body squeezed and trembled around Ryou's shaft, sending jolts of euphoric need stabbing into Ryou's belly. Hot, ragged puffs of air escaped Ryou's mouth as he hammered into Mariku's flesh.

With a savage push, Mariku bucked Ryou away from his body and stood straight. Ryou staggered back a few steps, blinking his lust-dazed eyes in confusion. Mariku turned and grinned. Stormlight and window paint stained his face a hellish red. He grabbed Ryou and lifted him off the ground. Ryou screamed, robbed of the security provided by the solid ground..

He felt himself be cast down, a fallen angel. The futon mattress broke his descent. Mariku sprang over the back of the futon and landed straddled across Ryou's hips, bottle of lube in hand. A moment later Ryou felt himself spread open and Mariku's thick fingers searching out his prostate. Ryou gurgled an out-of-breath moan.

"Ready?"

"Please," Ryou begged.

Mariku eased into Ryou's body. Ryou clenched his muscles, holding onto the filling sensation of Mariku's erection inside of him. He moved slow, giving Ryou time to adjust, but it was too good and Ryou didn't want to wait.

"F-faster," Ryou whispered.

Thunder rattled the windows in their pains; Mariku grinned at Ryou. "Not yet, Bunny."

Ryou whimpered, wanting more. He bit his lip as an idea came to him. Ryou started pushing up his hips. "Please, faster."

"No." Mariku's voice was rough, his body firm between Ryou's legs.

Ryou slapped him, not too hard, but enough to sting his hand. "Yes!"

A flash, so much like lightning, glinted in Mariku's eyes and a grin burgeoned across his face. "If that's what you want." He said it like a threat, and Ryou's heart fought against his chest.

Mariku slammed into Ryou, hard, making him scream. Then he set a quick, remorseless pace. All Ryou's thoughts and breaths disappeared beneath a long, low moan.

"Like this, Bunny?"

Ryou wailed in pleasure, not even attempting to respond with words.

"B-bunny." Mariku panted, losing his breath as he moved. "I asked you - a question."

"Ahhhhh!"

Mariku purred at Ryou's answer, dipping low and biting into Ryou's neck. Ryou couldn't scold him about the mark, it was too amazing a feeling to worry about.

"Get down to the rug," Mariku ordered.

Ryou didn't want to move, but when Mariku withdrew, he slid down to the rug beside the futon. Mariku re-entered. The floor had more leverage, allowing his movements to be deeper without losing speed. Ryou's arms and legs wrapped around him, as if to keep him, and by the time Mariku called out in orgasm, the storm had faded into a soft, pattering rain.

Ryou gasped, still hot and stiff. Mariku slipped out and Ryou made a disapproving sound at the loss of Mariku inside of him. Mariku bent down, snapping Ryou's nipple between his teeth and flicking his tongue. Then he sat down on top of Ryou's cock.

"Oh!" Ryou screamed, the heat and pressure he'd enjoyed earlier returning.

Mariku bounded in tight circles, thighs squeezing Ryou. "Am I tight?"

Ryou nodded, hoping it was enough because all he could do was moan and struggle to breathe. He felt like the entire storm condensed into his stomach, raging to escape back to the sky. Ryou grabbed Mariku's ass, encouraging him to move faster. Ryou bucked with his own hips, slamming into Mariku. With a final, savage moan, Ryou came until he couldn't breathe, and then he lay on the carpet with Mariku hunched over him - both men gasping for air.

***In hindsight, writing a sad fic for a birthday present was a horrible idea because the next chapter is :'( ***