The day was unusually warm by the time, Rock made it back home from work. Which was good because he was getting sick of the cold. Nearing the gate to the Kim residence, he took a look at the orange afternoon sun casting its light on the coming of spring; trees growing greener, color coming over the world, birds flying back from their trip down south.

The tower stood out forever dark and ominous, but Rock didn't have as many bitter feelings as before when he looked in its direction. It didn't make him feel good, but he had come to understand and accept that his view of the place and the people there had morphed into something less acidic. He didn't think of the sour disappointed feeling you'd get when you realized you'd put baking soda instead of baking powder in your run-of-the-mill sponge cake – mixed with years of hate and aching.

But he didn't love Geese and he didn't trust him fully either.

And he most certainly hadn't looked at the binder given to him. He wasn't even sure that he knew what was in it. One day he'd have to find out. If it made Geese have such a visceral reaction, there was a chance it was connected to Mother. And while on that note, Rock should probably open that letter from Terry. And burn the letters from Freeman. The box had been left and forgotten about, but it was time to get rid of it.

"Look who's back from the coal mines. Say, wolfy, wanna clean out the shit we got stored here?" Yamazaki asked once Rock entered the abode, fiddling with something on the bookcase that fell and clattered to the floor. When Rock looked at him, he shrugged. "I looked through our stuff and you still got the box from Freakman."

A jitter caused Rock to flinch for a moment. He swallowed and headed for the bookcase, pulling the box out and putting it on the floor as a reminder. The object that had fallen was the binder from Geese.

"Yeah. Let's burn it soon."

Yamazaki picked up the binder and put it on the table. He managed pretty easily with just his left arm, but it had long since been established that he was a southpaw. And the sight of his arm in a sling did take away some of the intimidating aura around him. Something that also ended out of place was the letter from Terry which Rock took and put on top of the binder. Suppose today was to be the day. He headed to the kitchen to boil some water for tea as they'd be here for a while.

"It's a buncha letters," the older man mused upon opening the binder and flipping some laminated pages. The news sank in slowly as Rock sat and clutched the envelope in his hands, swarmed with five emotions at once.

"From and to whom?" he asked, painfully obvious he realized.

"Between Geese and your mom."

Rock breathed in, trying to go about this rationally. There was a lot to these letters if they were dumped in a binder like this. And then there was the one in his hands. Terry wasn't a novelist, so he probably hadn't written a whole book, but he was the type of person to get his point across pretty concisely. Rock's hands began to shake when he picked at the adhesive to open the envelope but struggled to unfold the paper inside.

"Just hand it over and let me read it for you," Yamazaki offered but just outright snatched the letter. He had to bite into the envelope and pull the letter out, gingerly unfolding it and reading.

Hey, rookie.

Had to put down all my thoughts for this. I'm not there, I know. But truth is that I'm not much of a wolf these days. I don't know what happened to me. One day, something in my head just snapped irreparably. When Andy died, the pain didn't hit me at first. I carried on as best as I could. Weird, right? But when it did hit, I felt like I woke up to a massive fog. Like nothing was really connected anymore. It was actually scary. It still is. It's awful that I can't fill the hole he left behind or how everything and everyone is changing around me.

You know Andy and I have been through hell and back. He was my best friend as he was my brother. I can't get used to him not being here. I still sit in that stupid fog as I'm writing this. Don't know where I am or where I'm going. Just can't cheer up no matter what I do. Can't keep my friends together. Mai's gone, Joe's gone, everyone leaves. They're crawling into whatever corner they can find to hide from this mess.

As am I. I'm crawling too.

Sorry, Rock. I'm really sorry. You're a strong kid. You're good. You ripped yourself to shreds for my sake. You gave it your all to keep me floating and I still sunk. It's terrible but it's not on you. Whatever you do, don't think for a second that it's your fault. It never was. It never will be. I bet you're angry. I'd be angry too. But you don't deserve to bend over backward for me like this. You deserve better.

I'll come back one day when I'm stronger. When I'm not in such a sorry state where I just break your heart over and over. Until then, fly on and keep the faith.

See you later.

- Terry.

"Holy shit," Yamazaki said with some mixture of bitterness and wonderment. It was such tonal whiplash to hear his usual vulgarity following him reciting a letter that very much sounded like something that could have come out of Terry's mouth. It was so jarring that Rock, without any foothold of the five emotions flooding him currently, began laughing like he had lost it.

So incredibly unpleasant was the feeling he sat with that he couldn't put it into words. All he could do was sit here and laugh. Laugh until it crumbled into uncontrollable sobbing. He couldn't see Yamazaki stand up and circle the table for the streams that ran from his and down his face.

"Rock," Yamazaki's tone was even, with genuine anxiety behind it. His body blocked out the glow from the sun.

Out of nowhere, Rock felt a tidal wave of rage against himself and his cowardice. At how he was so stuck in his own fucking misery that he put himself through hell when it could have been avoided. At how he now sat with the feeling that it wouldn't have mattered if he did read the letter then. He'd feel like a failure because he still couldn't do anything to help Terry but the man was too nice to say anything. Without warning, the rage flared up again and Rock shot up from the chair, storming outside before he broke something.

The weather was mild, but he couldn't feel its calmness for the flurry of emotions overflowing. He looked down at his shaking hands, at the purple energy from them changing into a sky blue, and couldn't mentally comprehend the ache that shot through his body. Or how the pain felt like flames scorching flesh when the energy turned white, forcing a sharp grunt out of him. Yamazaki touched his shoulders for a second before Rock slammed his hand into the ground, leaving a tiny fissure.

Then, the older man tried again, putting a hand on his head. "Stop being so fuckin' hard on yourself."

"Sorry…I'm sorry," Rock breathed out slowly, his voice grainy and quivering. He let himself get dragged to stand by his arm and returned to the abode.

"Enough letters?" Yamazaki asked in a way that suggested he himself was beyond done with them for today.

To this, the younger man couldn't help but laugh again, although wry and pained. "Fuck, I mean. I already flipped out once. Why stop when I'm already mentally tripped up?"

"Because of said flip-outs," Yamazaki answered like it was obvious and he had a point. "It's not blue screening but I'm not loving this shit either."

Rock glanced at him, met his gaze, and confessed; "I guess…it's a matter of relation. That letter from Terry has been with me for a year and I never had the strength to open it. I'm-it-it's hard to put into words how things just shot at me like a submachine gun. I think the biggest of all is me realizing how much I miss him."

"And the shit from Geese?"

"It's Geese. There's your answer."

In the blink of an eye, Yamazaki's expression softened with humor. He closed the gap between them and swung an arm around Rock's head, tugging their bodies together. Holding him close while he crumpled a little against the older man's shoulder. They stood there, silent. Till wounds closed, till bleeding stopped. Till Rock sniffed and wiped his eyes and nose. Till the water became cold and unsuitable. So they boiled it again, made the tea, and settled on the bed with the binder.

As Yamazaki had indicated, it was indeed a bunch of letters between Geese and Mother, dating back to before Rock was born. Before he was even conceived. Talking about first dates and making letters was a habit because Mother would send postcards to her grandparents whenever she was in the hospital.

Rock had never asked his mother about their family history but evidently, the Heinleins were a side branch of a side branch of some noble family with a few ties here and there. Mother would laugh about the silly antics of her parents having all the bravado of medieval royals. She painted it as silly eccentricities and Rock believed her. Much older, he came to realize the actual horror lurking underneath.

It would seem that Geese even then tried to gently break it to her, indicating that they weren't all that nice or innocent. Of course, it didn't register as Mother was kind to a fault, trusting of all, wanting to give them the benefit of the doubt, trying to see the good in others.

Rock continued to read along about memories of years past, of thoughts and hopes and dreams and wishes. Of wanting a family. Of care and worry for Geese, knowing the type of man he was. It was strange to see how transparent his "love" for Mother was. Likese these esoteric documents were the only place where he could allow himself to feel human. Rock didn't want to think like that but that was what he saw no matter how he twisted and turned it.

There came a long stretch of time between the exchanges, and it became apparent that it was due to a marriage as indicated in the next letter from Geese. This time, there was a drawing along with it. A drawing of what the tower would end up looking like. And an explanation as to why Mother was not there.

For her protection. For the protection of their unborn child. For Rock's safety.

There came jokes about what the baby should be called. Rock if he was a boy. Eri if she was a girl. Skipping ahead, there was a somber atmosphere through the following letters. Of impatience and longing. A picture of an ultrasound. Something about a visit. Rock skimmed further, absorbing everything until he stopped by one letter, written the twenty-fourth of June. His birthday.

'It's a boy' the first line read. And there was a picture of Mother with an infant in her arms. A little blond-haired newborn with eyes redder than a crimson moon – as all Heinleins had. She looked like the happiest woman on the planet and Rock sat with a feeling of longing for her.

"You were a fuckin' ugly sperm sprout. All lumpy like a bad dough," Yamazaki quipped, grinning when Rock smacked his left shoulder.

The next page had another picture of the Howard family – so to say. Taken when neither of them was aware of it. Striking to note was a much younger Geese with much longer hair standing with a baby in his arms and looking genuinely happy.

Reading ahead, there were more pictures of Rock attached to the letters. Moments in time mostly. Fond memories of how curious he had been about his father. Quips from Geese, noting how much his son looked like his mother when there wasn't complaining about the tower's slow progress. A jabbing feeling settled in the pits of Rock's stomach at that. As did the letters that came closer and closer to the day Mother died.

And there it was.

On a letter that had been stained with tears. Terminal illness. Growing tumors. Inevitable death. After some back and forth, it was determined that Rock was to be sent to his uncle until the tower was complete.

And then the final letter from Mother a week before her passing. A heartfelt goodbye written by someone else because she had been too weak. Geese's response had been tough to read; written in a flurry of what could only assumed to be overwhelming emotion. Pouring his heart into every word.

Then apologizing for his failure as a husband and a father.

Rock closed the binder, put it under his arm, and headed to the bookcase to store it there. Standing with a heavy feeling, he couldn't quite make sense of.

Until he, for the first time, accepted that he genuinely didn't hate Geese as much anymore.

Not liking the man, far from it but the hatred had taken a different shape. One, Rock was trying to and failing to categorize. He sucked in a deep breath to lift the heavy feeling of lead in his chest, shocked that he hadn't cried his heart out. Upset that his headspace wasn't such a mess. He stood with this hotpot of feelings, this rising sensation of doubt that morphed into a forced change of worldview. He looked out the windows, happy that one couldn't see the tower from this angle.

His head hurt.

Slowly, he made his way to the bedroom and sank onto the bed again.

"So?" Yamazaki raised a brow, his habitual empty emotional cadence no longer filled with abject concern. A horrible desire to laugh rose in Rock, but he held it back.

"Good question," he shrugged and wondered for a moment what it would be like to have a normal, healthy family.

He had often looked at the way the Kims interacted with each other and felt a moment's jealousy. Rock would like to have typical parents. People, he could call Mom and Dad. He would like to feel the type of dynamics he'd seen other people have and only half of them appreciated. But he'd never get it and he would have to come to terms with that.

But now, he had Yamazaki. And that was good enough. That was more than he felt like he deserved. And that was what he had, and he took it with open arms, leaning into Yamazaki and closing his eyes. The first and foremost sensation that hit him was a sense of emotional detachment from everything. A nice distant buzz that turned it all to white noise.

Not an urge to harm himself.

"No more letters today, Rock. Seriously," the older man groaned. "By the way, I'm fuckin' starving."

Laughing a bit, Rock stood up, took his hand, and directed him to the kitchen.

It was raining today.

A heavy downpour came that made the world outside seem a tad dour. It would be raining for most of the day according to the weather report. Rock sat on the beanbag, growing happy for the thing. He couldn't really look out the window for the black medic van parked outside, taking the brunt of the rain. So, he sat with a book in his lap and read, listening, and waiting, his head perking up once he heard the door open and close.

"Would you look at that," Yamazaki announced with his arm free of the sling. He could lift it above his shoulder now even if it caused him to wince a bit. The leg was still healing but it may also have been the bullet that did the most damage. "Fuckin' finally."

Matilda came trotting up behind him, leaving some medical supplies on the table alongside a note, upbeat as ever. "The leg just needs some time. And remember; don't hesitate to call if something's up. Especially when you're done."

That last part caused Rock to lower his book a little more as she stared back at him with a knowing smile but didn't elaborate. She winked, announced her departure, and left with the medic van. Yamazaki stared long after her in a way, he hadn't done before, then reached for the note and unfolded it. Like clockwork, his right hand sought refuge in his pocket. That he hadn't been able to must have frustrated him with the way that strange tic caused his hand to move. Curious, Rock stood up and paced to his side. He didn't look at the note yet.

"So?" he asked. "What's going on? What's the prognosis?"

"The grand finale," Yamazaki flipped the paper, revealing a blurb of text. "The old cocksucker kept his end of the bargain."

Rock nodded, a tiny wave of despair coming over him. Not at Geese but over the fact that; "You're still hurt."

"I've been worse."

"And you've been better," Rock protested with a sigh. "If shit goes down, I'm going with you."

The older man looked at him judiciously, a little horror tingeing the chuckle he let out. "Fuck that. No way."

"Yes way," Rock retorted, feeling his eyes burn a notch from the memory of blood and injuries in a motel parking lot. "I won't kill but I can fight and I want to make sure you're not almost dying."

There was a leveled, almost empty expression on Yamazaki's face then and he looked away for a second, folding the paper. Whenever he was thoughtful, it was entrancing to look at. But there was something different about it this time around as he looked back at the younger man, heavy and scrutinizing.

"Say, I've been thinking for some time…"

"Uh-huh? About what?" Rock pressed out, excitement and anxiety suddenly bubbling inside with no idea of how to stop it.

"…There're two jobs on the note. One is Xanadu. The other is Kain, who asked him for help to kill me because of the six million bucks – and you. How did your uncle know I'd be there that night? He works under Geese. Word travels fast."

Rock swallowed hard at the news, at the malevolent glint of anger in Yamazaki's eyes. "Who's okay with all this?"

Yamazaki nodded. "He was the one who gave me the info. Kain hasn't been doing his job and apparently made moves to usurp him but failed in some capacity. That's a threat to the old man. And it's a threat to us. You know how it ends."

A sigh came from Rock then. "With you killing them all."

"Right," the older man said, then continued, softer; "But…it might be the end."

"Of what?"

"Of Yamazaki."

It took a moment for Rock to understand what he meant and when it hit, it was as if a dam had been breached, taking the form of endless tears. His lips stretched up into a smile, but his voice was a quivering mess once he tried to speak. "You're not gonna get bored after this?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On you sticking around," Yamazaki pressed his thumb against Rock's nose with an impish smirk. "Kidding aside, I'll be fine, I guess. I may not be good at much else than being a murderous fuckin' bastard but you don't need a degree to get ahead in life, right? Gotta find a job somewhere else."

Rock was very happy. He couldn't believe how happy he was. He leaned over to kiss Yamazaki-Ryuji on the mouth with all the fear and anxiety pouring out of him, needing this in every way possible, feeding on the reality of it hungrily.

Maybe for once, they did deserve happiness.

Something more beyond these crystalized moments in time, laughing over crass jokes, making out when happy, huddled together when sad. All of it blending together in ups and downs. For too long, they had been trudging through a fog of uncertainty. But there was a light at the end of this now, a better way to the horizon.

Maybe this was something that could last. Rock wanted that more than anything.

"You make me very happy, really," he said, breathless, intense, and blazing like a hot summer's day. Instead of aversion, Ryuji looked at him with ease as a faint smirk stretched over his face.

"Even if I drag you with me to hell for a minute?"

Rock nodded, laughing at the hand that landed on his head and ruffled up his hair.

"Fuck. Fine then. We got prep to do," he heard.

If this was going to be the end of an era, they better make it worth its finality. Rock followed Ryuji outside, making sure to lock the door. He stood under the shade of the roof and heard the faint hum of a car's engine. It was strange to think that after this, there would be no more cars stolen. They still had the money from Kain so if they really wanted to…

"Hop in," Ryuji had rolled the vehicle in front of the abode, leaning his elbow out the car window and Rock happily obliged.

"So," he began, eloquently, not quite sure what to make of his conflicting feelings of elation and fear, but willing to muster up productivity. "What's on the agenda?"

"The safe house. I've stored a couple of things out there that we'll need. Afterwards, we'll torch it," Ryuji answered, with an evil smile. "Consider it a send-off."

"And?"

"Xanadu. He got his hideout in Port Town. We'll need a distraction. Gonna blow some stuff up and kill some cultists!" Ryuji answered with such malevolent excitement that Rock had to shut his eyes for a moment, then open them. He would be fine. This was fine. A send-off, it'd be.

"Right," he nodded, a tad nervous. "What should I do?"

"Be ready. The fireworks are meant to clear the area. Just in case. No civilians, right?" Ryuji said though the malice wasn't entirely gone. Knowing him, he was excited for the end too. Or maybe just to exact some revenge. All right. This was all right. Not like Rock cared all that much about cars being blown up or insane criminal cult members meeting their end.

Accepting the storm on the horizon, Rock nodded as the car began rolling again. "Be careful. Seriously."

"You too. Seriously," Ryuji said and hit the gas.

They blew the safehouse up and it was glorious.

The dilapidated and claustrophobic fartbox was gone and Rock sat with a feeling of progress amidst a few duffel bags while a plume of black smoke rose to the sky behind them. Much like the bad memories of that place and the smoldering ashes of Freeman's letters. Gone to the ether and replaced by new worries that made themselves known when they reached Port Town.

There were fewer people around than Rock had feared but he couldn't deny his nerves were beginning to work in overdrive, nearly ripping themselves through his flesh once they parked the car and took one duffel bag. Ryuji didn't talk much from this point on, only rummaging through the bag for what looked like a book and attaching it under the ass end of a nearby car with its window smashed and graffiti defacing it.

Rock swallowed and followed him down the street, taking note of the slight limp. It didn't erase the part of him that made him a striking, intimidating figure; dressed in all black. Rock could have sworn he had once seen a purple shirt. A block or two away, there was a nondescript hotel building that they entered. At this hour, the lobby stood mostly empty except for a receptionist sitting at the desk and reading magazines when she wasn't talking with a few guests trying to get whatever room was available. Rock didn't stare at any of them for too long, finding a comfortable spot near a shelf of bargain bin DVDs for rent, standing behind a glass wall.

In all his time living in South Town, he had never set foot in Port Town. He had always been advised not to, even if curiosity compel him to ignore the warning almost. Being in the midst of it, he was glad that he didn't.

He was glad that with the bag, he and Ryuji looked like random travelers looking for cheap lodging and maybe a movie about sleigh dogs saving Christmas.

Homing in on a DVD case with a dog on the front, Rock found his hands shaking with the effort of not looking over his shoulder to the window and the ticking time bomb outside. So he busied himself from reading the vapid description on a printout of the DVD case's back. Ryuji slithered up next to him, so close that their shoulders touched. Which was nice because it grounded Rock just enough before the explosion hit.

The windows blew out with an ear-splitting pop. He ducked low and Ryuji went right with him. The shockwave caused the entire building to tremble, and everyone flocked outside to see what had just happened. More people came running down the street away from or to the mayhem. The hotel receptionist jumped from her seat and sprinted to one of the restrooms, locking the door after herself.

With the lobby empty, Rock stole a glance outside at the car that stood as a burning, obliterated mess while Ryuji headed for the receptionist's desk and snatched a set of keys next to the phone. They headed deeper into the building, encountering no one which filled Rock with some level of relief. Towards the end of the lobby, there was a single door with a sign on which it read 'Staff Only'. Ryuji unlocked it anyway and opened it to a flight of stairs. Rock figured they'd be going up but found himself a little surprised to be heading downstairs instead. Until they reached the base of the entire building.

Things had moved quickly, then slowly, then back to breakneck speeds.

Ryuji moved briskly and Rock feared he'd overexert his leg. He'd have to pay for it tomorrow. For now, he unlocked the door to the basement and entered like he owned the place, indifferent to the heads with white face paint that turned to stare at him. It still happened so fast, the mere second before the storm hit, taking the shape of Ryuji tearing through the men, splattering blood across the floor, the walls, everything.

Screams of anguish contrasted sharply against the hysteric laughter of a malevolent viper. Rock couldn't say he was particularly upset at seeing Yamazaki – the bloodthirsty Ryuji – end their lives. There was a lot a single knife and a few guns could do. Rock simply followed along, avoiding some of the crimson gore that pooled on the floor.

What had occurred back then in the warehouse? Well, he had been asked to sit and hold hands with Xanadu, getting bombarded with pseudo-intellectualism. Possibly hypnotized since he fell asleep shortly after and found himself waking up to being cradled by the eccentric weirdo. It had felt so satisfying punching him in the face. It was strange to see him on the floor with blood dripping from the stitches around his scalp, courtesy of a broken broom handle that Ryuji grabbed while brawling with some goons.

"You should have died. The laws of the universe do not permit you to live!" Xanadu exclaimed, his bravado crumbling at the evil chuckle he received back.

"Hehehe, I don't give a shit. Think you can take me down, you dumb cunt? What a fuckin' riot!"

Rock stood in the doorway to a washroom and watched the scene unfold, his heart skipping a beat when Xanadu laid eyes on him, tilting his head.

"…You are back. Kain didn't say you'd be back. This disturbance will create a new fluctuation. I'm taken with you. I wished I could extract and keep your frontal lobe," there was a slur in his speech from a few teeth being knocked out.

"…What?" Rock blinked and saw in real-time delusion come over a man across the span of a second.

"I shall not repeat myself again..." Xanadu's eyes stretched wide, his face grimacing with pain or madness. "Listen well! I shall not repeat-"

He didn't get to.

Ryuji smashed the broom across his head. Once, twice, thrice. Over and over. Again, and again. Bruising flesh, cracking teeth, breaking face bones. Growing winded with each impact but he didn't care, maniacal laughter drowning out the sound of carnage, squishing and dripping. Xanadu had long since gone quiet yet the beating didn't cease. Rock shook and closed his eyes to it, turning away from the room lest he'd vomit. All right. It was all right. He'd be all right. Just one more and they'd be all right.

Right?

When obscene morbid curiosity got the better of him and he looked at the room again, he saw the shape of Xanadu's body. And what remained of his face was a sludge of red and gray. What was supposed to be a human face was beaten into unrecognition. Something on the road to looking like a cracked watermelon.

"Don't look, Rock," Ryuji panted, the flip switching back into place. He turned around, limping out of the room without the broomstick or the vicious smile.

He just looked tired.

Some blood had landed on his face and hands. Maybe even on his clothes but blended into the black fabric. What had happened here was horrible but not new. There were no pretenses left between them anymore. But it occurred to Rock how little he understood of this shift, for lack of a better word.

"Is it voluntary?" he asked with active fear making his voice shake.

Instead of answering, Ryuji snapped his fingers to illustrate that no, not really. It was very much a switch that flipped at the smell of death and violence.

"But sometimes, something makes me snap outta of it. If I can stay fuckin', I don't know, non-lethal or whatever, the switch doesn't flip," he added, almost ashamed to admit this. Suppose it made sense. It was okay. It was part of him, but it wouldn't always be. Rock ceased his face between two hands and kissed softly, fondly. Tasting blood. Tasting regret.

Tasting hope.

It was evening when they made it back, exhausted and overwhelmed. Reeking of gasoline and carnage.

"Is it weird to think you got one job left?" Rock asked, midway undressed in the bathroom. He still couldn't entirely believe that he could see an end to the tunnel. He couldn't stand the stench of blood sticking to his clothing. It was going to be laundry day tomorrow.

"A little? But I chose this myself, so it is what it is. Fuck it," Ryuji answered, just out of view. Considering how late it was, no one was awake to care if they ran around the place naked. The thought made Rock blush a little as he stepped into the spray of the shower.

"If you get tired of being a bouncer, Crawley could always use a secretary," he quipped, smiling at the scoff he got in return.

"Do I look like I wear fuckin' cat eye glasses?"

"No, but they'd suit you."

The shower curtain was pulled with a harsh tuck. "Between the two of us, you're the nerd. But you're a damn fine one."

"Gee, thank you," Rock uttered as he found himself flush but didn't turn around. He just shifted about in the cabin until there was room for the both of them. At best, he found himself standing pressed against the tile wall, shuddering at warm breath against the back of his neck. Gasping at the fingers tracing his shoulder blades.

"Gotta sleep like a baby tonight," Ryuji mused quietly and stopped the poking at a certain point at Rock's back. "Got a scar there. Never noticed it before."

"Scraped the shit out of my back as a kid. Think I played basketball with Terry one time. Landed on some broken glass," Rock admitted, body trembling at the way they stood pressed together like this, pinned against the wall. His skin grew hypersensitive with every touch, white hot, and electric to the point where a tiny sigh crawled from the back of his throat at fingers grazing his lower back.

That old remnant of trauma tingled up his spine, the second he felt Ryuji grind up against him and bite into his shoulder, just enough to let one or two endorphins make themselves known. His body shook with need to the point where he reached for the bottles of body wash to lather them both in soap for what turned out to be a very rushed bath.

Afterward, Rock had to keep his eyes glued to the floor while Ryuji decided to limp around the abode in the nude until a towel was successfully wrapped around his waist though it hardly mattered once they made it to the bedroom.

It would be perfect to call it a night. But with the way Ryuji sat on the foot of the bed like he was waiting for something, this was not yet likely. He stared at Rock and waved him closer in the dimness, smirking just slightly at how the young man let out a shuddering sigh yet obeyed.

"Get on your knees," he whispered with just the tiniest growl that made Rock's body floaty. Down on his knees, the world slowed down. Turned hazy. He closed his eyes and leaned against the touch of the hand cupping his cheek, then sliding into his hair to gently push his head down into the surface of the towel.

Rock got the message immediately, whining under his breath as he reached up underneath and rested his hands on Ryuji's bare thighs.

"Just tuck your teeth in and go at your pace," the older man murmured down at him, enough breath in his voice for Rock to understand he was anticipating badly.

The hand in Rock's hair stroked his head, gently easing him into it, then rubbing the back of his neck. Fear came faintly behind the ripples of pleasure he felt from this, being so helpless. Surrendering like this. Wanting to be good for someone else. On his knees for someone and submitting. Willingly. That was the keyword to push the fear away.

Willingly.

Swallowing, Rock moved the towel upwards, his cheeks burning when he saw it up close. Ryuji and his cock like this had a weirdly intimidating presence despite the familiarity. Rock might not have known it that well as it felt hot and heavy and alien in his hands. A few strokes already made it half-hard and in turn, the hunger to be ravaged by it became nearly overwhelming.

"Like this?" Rock asked in a whisper, stroking with his hand.

"Yeah."

It emboldened Rock further. He took a deep breath, mouth moving over the slick rounded tip of Ryuji's dick, tasting salty precum. He traced every inch of it with the tip of his tongue, exploring every nerve of this arcane artifact that had made him feel so good far too few times before. Blushing at the groans he heard and the hand on his neck, settling in his hair and gripping tightly. He tucked his teeth behind his lips and tried to lower his head as much as he could, stroking the part that wouldn't fit.

"Oh, that's sweet, wolfy," Ryuji drawled down at Rock, combing through his wet hair. "We should do this more often."

Pleased by this, Rock hummed despite the shame and guilt that curled around his gut. He bopped his head up and down, warmth pooling into his stomach, sucking harder. His body felt so neglected, starved for touch but hearing Ryuji grunt was a nice soothe. Rock wanted to be fucking good for him. Wanting to feel more of his fingers caressing his forehead and the shell of his ears.

"Good boy," he heard and felt ready to die of happiness for a moment. Ryuji's hands cupped his face and pulled him away with an obscene slurp. "Get on the bed. It's not fun if I'm the only one getting off."

Hungrily, Rock complied, tightening the towel around his waist because his dick was poking t the fabric, shameless and insistent. He lay down and pulled his knees to his chest, resisting the urge to touch himself. Pleasantly distracted by a brief kiss that ended far too soon. Frantically, he chased for more, whining when he wasn't nearly satisfied with what he got.

"Fuck," Ryuji hissed as he leaned down, grabbing a fistful of Rock's hair to kiss him harsher. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Good," Rock grinned and moaned into the next kiss that plied his lips apart. Mewled and twisted at Ryuji roughly grabbing his crotch, digging the hell of his palm in.

"What was that?" he chuckled, fiendish and tonally dark with desire. "Can't hear you over the sound of you being horny. Hard for me already?"

"Y-yes. Please….please…" Rock gasped, his back arching into the touch, and moaned at kisses and bites against his neck while his hands rubbed at everything he could reach. He fluttered his eyes closed and kissed Ryuji's shoulder, tasting sweat and a faint flavor of soap before his leg was hoisted up into the air. He scrambled to the nightstand and the lube there, handing it over. Resting one leg on his shoulder, Ryuji slicked his fingers up, then eased them inside, prodding and coating everything.

"Tell me what you want," he leaned over Rock, growling the command into his ear before biting it just gently.

"You," Rock begged, trembling at the submission. A wolf willingly and blithely tamed. "I-Inside me, I want…"

Words failed him desperately at Ryuji fingerfucking him so perfectly, he heard nothing but the blood rushing to his ears and his own obscene, breathless pleas.

"Say, wanna be tied up again?" Ryuji asked with something like a laugh, lighthearted for a second. Thinking of all the times, he had been bound involuntarily, then the one time when he had agreed to it, Rock nodded – despite the fear pulling him out of the haze that surrounded his mind. It was okay, he reminded himself. He was safe. He wouldn't get hurt. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

Ryuji crawled off the bed for the duffel bag with the rope and began to tie Rock's wrists together above his head.

"If you pull hard enough," Ryuji told him, kissing him in between. "You should be able to get free."

"Safeword too?" Rock asked, squirming at his thighs being spread wide.

"Peach," Ryuji smirked as he took his cock and pressed the tip inside, using his other hand to tease one of Rock's nipples in light, playful touches to the point where it hardened under the touch with raw hypersensitivity. The haze returned like a thick warm fog that made Rock feel weightless and translucent, head pounding with every sensation, pounding blood so thorough he feared it would explode. His skin was like a circuit board of hyperactive wiring, so frighteningly sensitive and easy to overstimulate. Gripping the sheets, Rock whined softly and fought to urge to wrap his hands around Ryuji's neck to draw him close.

For now, he lay here, feeling each moan, each plea vibrate in his throat, unrestrained and borderline animalistic. High-pitched in pleasure as his body accommodated the stretch and finally, finally, felt Ryuji bottoming out with a primal groan. Arching his back to relish the sensation, because he really couldn't help himself from gritting out a guttural sound.

God, they should do this more often. Why hadn't they? Because Rock had been terrified. Still was now, lying here with the shame, fear, and guilt just a heartbeat away, waiting for the moment to pounce.

He thought of ways to force himself out of it – then forgot about it as Ryuji rolled his hips, nudging the swell of his cockhead against that sweet spot where Rock needed it the most. A hand landed right over his collarbone, at the base of his throat, and pressed him into the sheets as he threw his head into the pillow, the climax barreling into him like a glass of water tossed in his face.

"No, shit," Rock sobbed, riding the wave hard as he could, feeling like he wasn't nearly satisfied. "Sorry, I-I can't help it. God…."

But Ryuji growled obscenely at him, pulling out and flipping Rock up on all fours and fucked him in earnest, working him through it until he came. Rock had to catch himself on his elbow, gasping breathlessly at the hand wrapping around his cock and stroking it in short, firm bursts that nearly left him screaming. His body bucked under him, but Ryuji kept him in place, rocking into his body at an ever—increasing pace. And it was all he really felt anymore as the rest of his being felt like melting.

"I'm not fuckin' done with you yet," Ryuji drawled in a manner that could very easily be mistaken as a malicious threat.

"Harder," Rock gasped in a shaky whisper. "Please…"

He heard the older man laugh, then felt one hand tighten its grip on his hip. At this point, he fully surrounded to a steady sustainable rhythm with harsh thrusts, his body sagging a bit when Ryuji lifted his hand and slid over Rock's back and to the hair on the top of his head.

Then grabbed a fistful and yanked him back.

Endorphins hit him hard, and he opened his mouth soundlessly at the burn through his scalp. And then it faded away abruptly. Fading into a haze of soft cotton like at the camp. It along with the thrusting made his dick hard again, and he mewled in need of relief again. Yelping outright when Ryuji hunched over him and clamped down hard on his shoulder. With teeth and everything. Mixing pleasure and pain into a dizzying mess of sensations.

He could do this forever.

This is what you get when you're so damn sexy, punk," Ryuji breathed out in a winded chuckle, lapping at the marks he left and pounding into Rock so relentlessly, stars flooded his visions and left him hoarse, wordless. Pleasure shot through his spine and every nerve of his body, pulling his toes into a curl. The second orgasm of the night him like a bucket of ice water being tossed over his body, unhindered in one continued stream.

Sloppily, he tried twisting his torso, beckoning Ryuji to twist the hand in Rock's hair to better smash their mouths together for a rough kiss like hungry beasts devouring their prey - if lions frantically fucked the zebras instead of eating them.

No lion had a beautiful face as Ryuji with his flushed cheeks, blonde strands of hair hanging over his forehead, brow creased in pleasure, eyes falling to a close as he slammed into Rock and filled him up with cum after several hard thrusts. Beyond autonomy, Rock's body accepted it, then went soft and light despite the delicious teasing of his prostate. Over and over until he came again with such aftershocks that forced his body to go limp.

Laying on top of him, Ryuji reached up to pull at the restraints, his entire body heaving with every deep breath. They lay pressed together until their composure had been regained although all it really did was to let the afterglow fill them with lethargy. In the aftermath, there was a messy chaos left in the wake. After another shower, an abundance of tissues and Rock slowly drinking some water for his parched throat, he sat by the foot of the bed with Ryuji behind him, rubbing ointment on the wounds he left.

"Aw shit. I think I broke the skin. You okay?" he asked, weary. "I mean, I like it rough but…"

And so did Rock seemingly. He hadn't imagined he would enjoy giving up control, submitting and being ravaged like this. Not when being forced and coerced into sex in the fast past was the reason why he found intimacy such a complicated experience. But being tied up and teased to sitting here with lethargy settling over his overheated body, he came to understand that there were differences between what felt good and what didn't, what trust did and what its absence caused, when he wanted this and when he didn't.

This was okay after all. What he wanted was okay. He could have this and be happy.

"…No, felt good…" he let his eyes drop and leaned back into Ryuji as two arms wrapped around him. Partly sleeping, they fell back onto the mattress on top of the blankets, spooning and Rock spared a brief thought for how they got from their tense first meeting at Kain's palace to this very moment.

Gentle kisses to his shoulder stopped him from thinking at all, and he felt in bliss for the first time in a while.