Chapter title: Guilty mind.
Usually encountered in law, referring to the mental state of a defendant accused of a crime.
"Alright so," Balrog said and Vega realized he was being talked to. "Where's the girl?"
"I-" Vega stood stunned like he was frozen. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?" the manor lord spat. "I'm here to save my daughter!"
The courage drained from Vega like a breached dam and he felt only moderately steady thanks to the hand on his shoulder. Well-mannered yet direct, Ryu answered with; "Gone."
Vega nodded as if he was calm, though his brain was screaming about everything awful and agonizing in life. Somehow he managed to brace himself, just to deliver the not-so-true facts without a hint of emotion – despite the sense that Balrog specifically saw waves of it in his face. "With all due respect, my lord, she had been horribly mistreated and deservedly so chose to seek safety."
Balrog had something in his eyes that could liberally be classified as empathy, but the lord of the manor glared at the Spaniard with disgust. The upper class looking down on the poor as mere bugs beneath them. Vega recognized that look and felt something shatter inside his mind.
"Do not speak for her, commoner. Excuse me," the lord growled, then pushed his way inside, neatly shoving Vega up against the wall. Balrog had enough courtesy to remain outside at least.
"She left because your son-in-law abused her. He brutalized her like she was a mere toy. Wherever she went, I hope it will be far away from him," Vega said with a feeling he never hoped to feel again. He gazed at the boxer outside and saw active discomfort. Good.
"Don't be silly. It's for our future!"
"Which will include a dead daughter," Vega retorted, tremulous. His chest tightened, on a one-way course to a panic attack. He felt adrift, affected so badly he could collapse in on himself. He turned around, highly aware of how pathetic he sounded right now. "Please, let her be. Just let her do this. Forget about money or status. Away with it! She is your daughter and as a father, it is your responsibility to protect her. If it is funds you want, I have it in spades."
"I will hear it from her mouth," the manor lord sent a look of scorn before he scanned the room some more and stared at the staircase. "I know she is here. She is-"
"You understand nothing, you fool. Do not prance around so gracelessly and dare to call yourself a noble. Do you have no concept of honor or duty? Do the world a favor and at least pretend to be worthy of-" Vega heard himself snapping seconds before he felt a hit across the face, then fumbled back a bit and clutched his nose. Blood poured out of his nostrils and an old lingering urge to retaliate began to hover over him. The assassin, the bloodthirsty beast hired by Bison; it began to rear its ugly head with indignation at the insolence of this petty imbecile.
"Father!" Roselina shrieked while Vega's ears rang. The whole wide world felt like swimming, and he disconnected between the urge to decapitate and the horrid memories flooding him all at once. A hand grabbed his arm and he flinched, realizing that it was Balrog pulling him outside. He looked inside the house and spotted the young lady standing at the top of the staircase with Ryu blocking the first step from her father.
Father and daughter were involved in a full-on screaming match, a family meltdown with Ryu as the only buffer and Vega being too much of a mess to handle any of it. Part of him was ever so grateful that Balrog had pulled him out of the chaos, then horrified that he was even grateful towards Balrog at all.
"I…" he blurted out, stunned at how much his head hurt. He pulled his arm back, frustrated at his own weakness. "I am fine."
"Oh, hell fucking no. Fuck all the fucking way the fuck off with that fucking shit, you fucking moron," Balrog tutted at him, irritated and crude as always. He probably earned a medal for the greatest number of fucks in one sentence. He grabbed Vega's jaw and lifted his head to inspect the wounds. "For once, you're not bitching about your face. Took one hell of a beating, huh?"
"What on earth are you doing, you barbaric oaf?" Vega cringed at the interaction and the pain.
"Keeping you out of that mess."
"Why?"
Balrog didn't answer. He got that strange look on his face again and Vega hated it as he was fascinated by it. And there was pity in his eyes, which suddenly made the Spaniard desperately want to cry but he locked it down as much as he could. He wriggled his way out of Balrog's grasp and turned to the house, only to have his arm seized again.
"Why are you so invested in their shit anyway?" Balrog asked, wary but not rude for once as he continued. "I mean, I bet the pay was good but is it really worth the headache? Storing some girl who got some issues with her dad and boyfriend or whatever. Or did she pay you for protection?"
It startled Vega as it angered him for reasons he wasn't ready to explain. "You made your point. It's about the money. It always is and I do not care but do me a favor and look at her face."
Balrog grumbled something that resembled a no. It sounded too weak and small for a man like him and Vega huffed, horrified. "Look at her face and tell me you will be okay with what you will send her back to. I hope it is worth your beloved paycheck."
"You say that because you have cash in spades," Balrog sneered, tightening his grip around Vega's arm.
"Does it look like I live a life of luxury?"
"Of course not, you pedantic Luddite. You're wasting time being a sad little bitch!" Balrog continued to roar, sounding like he was in pain under it.
"I will pay you to leave her alone then!" Vega's tone was outright brittle, a weak sound breaking out of him with the silence that came from the house. "Name your price, you accursed hog!"
"No," Balrog exhaled, sounding exasperated with this whole ordeal. "This shit is too much for me."
A bitter, broken laugh escaped Vega. "You saying no to money? What happened to you?"
"What happened to you?" the boxer bit back. "You used to be this prick who'd gloat and boast about how pretty you were and how it made you a messiah or some shit. You'd fucking cream your pants every time you got to cut someone up like ribbons, then brag about how your fighting was like a gift from the gods. I fucking hated that version of you, but he felt authentic and confident. He was a motherfucker but he was also a badass motherfucker. Then suddenly he gets a few burns to his pretty little face and he suddenly decides to become this whimpering little simp with a hero complex I'm talking to now. What the fuck, man?"
"Has it ever occurred to you that the life experiences of people mold them against their will? Do I have to tell you that and subsequently disprove your fabled intelligence? Why are you pretending to care about what version of me you engage with?" Vega couldn't stop the bitterness from spilling over. "You have no idea what has occurred or what pain the world holds. Bison was just one face of it."
"Don't fucking talk to me like I don't know what it's like to get dealt a shit hand, asshole," Balrog bristled. Vega probably struck a nerve. "Unlike you, I'm ain't no privileged little bitch with no ambition. Some of us actually had to fight to get somewhere in life. That's a lesson you could have bothered to learn from the dead cocksucker."
"You're a heartless subhuman," Vega spat. "Walk away and prove me wrong or chase your beloved money and doom a woman to a lifetime of abuse until the day she dies. I hope you're happy with yourself."
Balrog's expression went weirdly and vividly dead for a second. "Like you are any better. Don't forget who you are, you sanctimonious little shit."
It was true. The startling truth of it froze Vega where he stood. He opened his mouth but Balrog flat-out spoke over him.
"Like you actually give a shit. You only care because she's hot, right? It's always the same with you," the boxer said, situated somewhere between icy disdain and white-hot anger. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"
A dipshit Spaniard. Vega knew this. He knew it so much it hurt. Or maybe it was his face still.
"You feel like a true supreme gentleman right now? Huh? What about it?" Balrog continued his assault, brutally ironic and searingly scathing. He was always a bully but there was something different about him now; a frightened, skittish quality that was not there before. Possibly born from this entire situation. It wasn't like Balrog was completely incapable of humanity, unlike Bison but he was however twice as aggressive with his fear and discomfort.
"Come back to me when you wake up to a woman frantically pounding at your door in the middle of the night after she was assaulted and violated by the man who was supposed to marry her," Vega mocked him with a hardened glare. He spotted a strange, unfamiliar rage building in Balrog's eyes. A flicker of familiarity. And fear. It struck something deep.
"You talk a lot of fucking shit. Both you and your boyfriend got a screw loose. Give me one reason I should even listen to you."
"Because you are a human being, you ugly imbecilic black hole of vulgarity and greed," Vega spit, scathing and absolutely so over this entire day. "Do I have to tell you that common fact or are you too simplistic and narrow-minded to even notice the tiniest of nuances in the human psyche?"
Balrog flinched, then shoved Vega away so the Spaniard stumbled forward and nearly fell over. "Now you sound like your old self again. Fucking hell."
"Bite me."
As soon as Vega had somewhat gathered himself, there came two figures out of the house. Roselina and her father, joined together arm in arm, the latter stopping to look at Vega. Both their eyes were red and moist as if they had spent hours crying.
"You…" he began, measured but rattled. "You were one of us all along. I knew there was something about you. My apologies for the disrespect."
Vega nodded numbly, almost stunned with the horrible feeling that he wouldn't have gotten that apology if they didn't know who he was. He merely observed as the lord continued. "I understand now. Thank you for helping my daughter. I never knew the horrors she endured."
"Thank you, Ly-Vega. Lord Vega," Roselina echoed her father with ardor in her eyes. "Due to the situation, it has been decided that we must leave the manor but I am forever grateful, my lord."
"Yes," her father added. "Do not debase yourself with mere labor any longer. You are welcome to visit one of our other estates as an equal. I know of a good plastic surgeon who could help with the scars. Perhaps I can introduce you."
Vega felt a sudden lurch of nausea. This was not what he was supposed to be feeling at all. He prevented a woman from meeting the same fate as his mother. He should be happy. He wished he had Ryu's inner peace or Balog's shamelessness. He couldn't stand the platitudes or the stripping of his identity or the lull of being pulled back into a life he had abandoned. He couldn't process the upper-class court games any longer. He wanted to throw up so badly that his stomach wrung itself inside out, then throw up some more until his organs went flying through his throat and straight out of his mouth. He could barely hear anything, only willing himself to breathe evenly so he couldn't get deafened by the sound of his pulse in his ears.
"Your generosity is appreciated," he answered with a mechanic smile, so miserably sick of the topics revolving around money, status, and birthrights. If he heard any more of it, he'd stab his own ears out. It was a wonder he didn't cry despite sinking into what felt like a bottomless pit of despair.
"You are a true gentleman," Roselina said with a smile and Vega wanted to weep. He should be happy. Then, why did he feel so miserable? Because no one bothered to take him seriously before his identity was outed? Because he did this to soothe his own hideous traumatic ego? Because he felt so ashamed, yet shocked at the shifting treatment based on name alone? Why?
He looked at the lord and his daughter closely. They were photogenic, handsome specimens. Gifted with favorable genes that showered them with physical attractiveness. They looked like people Vega would happily associate with. They looked like his people. Roselina was blameless but she took a on disheartening quality when paired with her father. Ugliness was supposed to represent evil and cowardice, while beauty represented heroism and strength. But the husband-to-be had been handsome and Ryu wasn't exactly a looker yet he was the only hero of the lot here.
"Thank you, my lady," Vega answered, stopping himself short of falling into a bad habit.
Mi querida.
No. Not like that. Ugh, he felt sick again.
Something awful must have been readable on his expression as Roselina came up to him and reached for his hand. "But you may always just come by to take care of the garden. You did a wonderful job…Lyric."
It felt a little better. It was as if she could see the dependence on anonymity without being bombarded with past reminders. She understood his need apparently. Some of it; the need to unalive himself was still looming there, growing a little stronger when she let go and joined her father as they traversed down the road to a car that stood parked and waiting for them.
Vega remained where he stood and watched them drive off. He hated how they treated him now. He hated the offer to fix his face. He could not be fixed; he was already broken. He felt a hand on his back and stabilized just enough to notice it was Ryu. Vega couldn't bring himself to look up at him, wishing a strike of lighting would shoot him dead. Too many emotions in one day. It was like was having a drug overdose that rendered him battered with numbness.
"So uh," Balrog said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Is that offer for money still up?"
Ryu was having none of it and shut him up with a stern look. He swung an arm around Vega and led him back inside, leaving the boxer to roam the front yard.
Vega lay curled up in bed early in the evening when Ryu entered the room shortly after. He had been pacing back and forth with food, water, and a medical kit to take care of the battle wounds. He hated the feeling of being taken care of, but he was so done with having autonomy that he greedily lapped every second of it. He allowed himself to be moved upwards to a sitting position with his face resting in Ryu's hands. They hadn't talked much at all, just focusing their time and efforts on decompressing for so long that Vega was brimming with words and phrases by early evening.
"My face…" he grumbled. "How do-did you survive it? How can you stand everything and-and…what happened? What…"
He wasn't even sure what he was asking anymore. Pathetic.
Ryu applied the bandages with a light grin. "Breathe. Interpersonal crises aren't something I haven't witnessed before. I had them both calm down and talk about what happened. Going forward, they'll be pressing charges. I think it's over now."
Vega shrunk into himself. "I see."
It would seem that part of his discomfort came from the power Ryu held and the fact that he didn't even seem aware of it. The pandemonium of him leaving. But Vega couldn't stay here any longer. Without a job, with his identity unsealed, he was untethered.
"Hey," Ryu cupped his face. "You did well today."
"Really?" Vega replied, exhausted yet sardonic. "Then why do I feel so awful? I don't understand…"
"Take it from the top?" Ryu asked as he finished the bandages on the nose, then urged Vega to sit by the window to help with the bleeding.
"I don't feel good about the sudden shift in treatment. I don't feel good about my identity being leaked. I don't feel good about getting abused repeatedly because no one wanted to believe me due to my perceived status. I hate how easily it suddenly resolved itself despite the suffering I experienced. I told my true identity to Roselina because she needed to feel some semblance of trust again. I hoped she skipped town and I'd never see her again. I do not enjoy being so rudely reminded of many past painful things in my life, so unrelenting they rendered me into a mess. I do not appreciate the human condition of feeling."
I don't want to be alone. I don't know where to go. I don't want you to leave me. It has to be you. You, who will leave me.
Ryu observed him for a moment before he scooted over and wrapped his arms around him. He rested the bottom of his face against Vega's temple and it was such a grounding feeling. He enjoyed being at ease like this, resting his head on Ryu's shoulder.
"That's a lot…" Ryu said. "What will happen now?"
"I don't know. I will see if the church needs another groundskeeper until I figure out where to go from here."
Ryu hummed something or another that didn't bear repeating and a musing silence settled over the house. The simplicity and domesticity of the days until that fateful night reminded Vega of all the other bittersweet mornings he spent alone, of the first few mornings he spent with Ryu here. Absently, Vega looked down at his arms and the long red wounds and scars that littered them.
The old him would be mortified at this horrible habit. He would consider it a personal embarrassment. He'd hide it and pretend it didn't exist while he lured another woman into his bed so she could fill his heart with warm PTFE that deteriorated as soon as they stopped having sex. On occasion, he had been depressed during and after the act. No one ever asked if he was okay. Not that he wanted them to. Not that he'd indulge them if they dared.
Now, he wanted to rip himself a part in a public performance of agony, paint the city red with his own blood, and display his mangled corpse in the city square. But then again, Ryu had seen the worst of it. He had been on the receiving end for some of it too. He walked in on Vega cutting and stayed with him to keep him safe. He did everything he could to keep the peace and the stability, exuding empathy and affection all the way. He didn't know what was in the box under the bed. But he had seen the abyss of despair.
And the thought of it was as comforting as it was terrifying.
Vega would hurt himself badly when Ryu was gone. Even now, the urge was still rising on the horizon. It would come crashing onto shore sooner or later, destroying everything. And there was still that box. Maybe he should just open it.
Gently he pulled back, catching Ryu's expression tighten in the process.
"You could take the week off?"
"I…" Vega played with the rim of his shirt. He could open the box now, and it would all be over. "Yes. Not gonna bother looking for a job."
Pathetic.
"Good! You need to take care of those injuries You didn't break a nose or chip a tooth but you got some bad bruising and swelling."
Vega nodded, suddenly overwhelmed with an awful reaction to how easily Ryu breezed through the day.
Ryu, who was independent and hard-working enough to handle himself without issue whereas Vega was a mess through and through.
Ryu, who was humble and responsible, well-mannered and earnest. Ryu who was a good person. Ryu, who deserved better than to be trapped here with Vega.
Vega, who felt like weeping.
He lay down on the bed, not caring about the blood. He did care about the body soon pressed up against him and the potent desire to have their skin merge, carried and floating in a realm where no one could think straight for more than two seconds.
Even if it was only for one night. Even if it meant Vega's heart would break harder when it was over.
He thought of the kiss. Not his very first but the first he had gotten from Ryu. What did this make them? He didn't know. He only knew how unwavering and gentle it was, marred by awkwardness but sincere with sweetness. He didn't know what it felt like before then; he could only imitate it as he did with Menat. It didn't feel right. It was like an android trying to replicate human behaviors. Now he could do nothing but feel the emotions behind those human behaviors and he so wanted to be free from his own mind. He turned around until he faced Ryu, staring into a pair of deep brown eyes.
Love me, he thought.
Love until I can't feel anything.
His heartbeat grew scattered and desperate.
"You know, Roselina was…" Ryu drifted off like his gaze did before he continued. "She is quite preoccupied with you. I wonder if…"
"I knew she was enamored with me? Yes," Vega answered steadily. Ironically, all he could think of right now was Ryu touching him, kissing him, making him feel like a normal person worthy of loving the ugly and the beautiful regardless of what it looked like.
"And you weren't…?" Ryu asked, something vulnerable in his gaze. It was nice to see how transparently human he was. It stoked a nice, comforting heat in Vega. Maybe a little anxious at being desired by someone, let alone two people despite the current state of him.
"No. Besides, it would seem I have you. I don't deserve that, but I enjoy it so much it hurts."
Love me until it hurts, until I break, until I shatter into pieces. Until the day I die.
Ryu shifted closer just a bit to kiss Vega on the mouth and Vega drifted into the sensation that came over him, melting into the arms that wrapped around him and held him tight. He remembered being aroused by the endless women that warmed his bed, but it didn't feel like this, like shards of his true self had been pulled out and put on display for someone, the first someone, he truly and genuinely desired.
He drifted into the dozens of kisses against his lips, conflicting feelings flooding him; he wanted this to end in the worst way possible. Thoughts of self-deprecation and self-destruction circled his mind, but they were quickly dispelled when he was turned onto his back with the weight of a fully grown man on top of him.
Vega shifted up against Ryu, overwhelmed by how different the experience was. It shouldn't be but he smelled good, he tasted good, he felt good. He wrapped his arms around Vega and somehow managed to force a sound out of the Spaniard that wasn't exactly a moan.
"Can I?" Ryu asked in a whisper, eyes almost black with curiosity and need. Good question.
Hopefully certain that he knew what would be expected of him, Vega nodded. A pang of nausea forced his eyes closed at the feeling of hands skirting across his chest and the bottom of his shirt, slowly pulling each one apart. The yearning was beginning to get overrun by the disgust with himself and the state of his body and somehow that must have been apparent as Ryu leaned down to kiss him until his sanity detached from rationale bit by bit. His hand grazed along a few burns in a way that should have made Vega panic but instead made his nerves tingle in the best, most unexpected way possible.
Ever so slowly, Ryu sat up again. His face, neck, and ears were flaming red, and his eyes stretched wide until they slid to half-mast. He kept his hand on Vega's chest, tracing the fragmented snake tattoo with childlike curiosity; Vega couldn't help but feel mortified.
"Are you…?" he asked, without any idea of what he was even asking.
Ryu didn't look at him right away, parting the shirt even more until the entirety of Vega's chest was exposed. A wave of shame washed over the Spaniard and he felt the sudden urge to hide, so unexpectedly and vividly repulsed with himself that he almost screamed at Ryu to look away. His distress must have been shining like a dying star because Ryu cupped his cheek, brushing a thumb alongside the burns on his face, and stared at him with a weirdly but not uncharacteristically stern expression.
"Do you want me to?" he asked softly despite the hardness on his face. Considering his self-admitted inexperience, it was bizarrely adorable.
Him asking however was comforting despite the clear interest in his eyes. It took some getting used to; the gaze of someone so transparently interested despite what Vega looked like or the state of his scarred skin. He looked up at Ryu and nodded. He could almost laugh at himself for being so coy as if he hadn't done any of this before. He had – although only with women. No man had been able to match Vega's perceived mile-high standards.
And the old him would reckon that Ryu certainly wasn't anywhere close to moderately acceptable. His body was hard and bulky to the touch, his skin was rough at best, covered in battle wounds and outright calloused on his palms. His form wasn't delicate and due to a certain incident, Vega knew it was kinda hairy too. Completely opposite to what was normally desirable – to him. But despite it all, Vega felt an awful and wonderful urge to squirm, a desperate sound threatening to break out of him at hands palming his chest and the feeling of Ryu leaning down to kiss him again, gentle and testing like he was handling glass.
And Vega, finding himself on the path to becoming a pillow princess, grabbed onto Ryu's shirt, a shudder rolling over him as he felt a few fluttering kisses down his neck. He thought of the many trysts he had embarked on, how he bewitched the women in his bed with passionate whispers in their ears before letting his teeth graze their skin and sucking hard to make them moan in shameless delight. He had ignored the taste of their perfumes and marked their necks like they were his. It didn't feel right to think about.
He should stop thinking.
Ryu sucking on his scarred collarbone aided that purpose perfectly. With his mind completely eroded, Vega reached his hands around Ryu's neck and pulled him close for a kiss. This was so different than every other instance like this; the way Ryu so gently focused on him. Emotional in a way, Vega hadn't experienced – or wasn't sure he wanted.
He needed to stop thinking.
Ryu cradled his head and kissed his cheek unnaturally fondly while Vega found himself so astounded at everything happening, struggling to believe that he was laying here, bleeding everywhere yet still treated with such undeserved gentleness.
He couldn't stop thinking.
Though rough lips dragging across his neck made him outright dizzy. He rubbed his face as Ryu sat up and pulled his shirt off, revealing a mosaic of battle wounds. Finite scars peppered across sculpted muscles. Transfixed, Vega reached over to brush his fingers across the skin in front of him, simultaneously envious and fascinated. Taking the sight of it all in. Vega felt a rush of terror wash over him, then recede in tiny tremors as Ryu dropped down again to undo his pants with a strangely methodical approach. The burn scars were more gruesome on Vega's legs, and he couldn't quite bring himself to not shake, even at the hands passing over the darkened, sensitive skin.
He almost flailed in some attempt of self-sabotage but stopped right in the middle of processing that impulse as Ryu reached his boxers and pulled the waistband down. Without hesitation, the absolute madman moved his mouth over Vega's cock that forced a weird and slightly horrifying out of the Spaniard at the sensation; a sound he hadn't made in all his years of living.
His entire body tensed. A shiver broke through at the feeling and his head pressed against the pillow, turning slightly to look at the wall. It was-he was almost ashamed to admit that he hadn't allowed this before. No woman he ever bedded had done this to him. He preferred to take charge and let them be dominated by him. Now, he found himself at someone else's mercy, his toes curling as Ryu slowly began to suck him off. Looking at him, he seemed weirdly concentrated in his efforts. Eyes closed, brows slightly pinched together. Deeply focused, amusingly anatomical. Vega reached down to palm his forehead, nestling his hand in black medium-length hair.
Momentarily, Ryu paused and opened his eyes, staring back at Vega before he kept going, a little faster and harder. A slew of feelings washed over the Spaniard in the midst of it and the only thing he could do was to laugh, a little pained despite himself and the thought he could die at any minute. Which was to say that his sense of time was completely off right now as he felt subjugated for what felt like an eternity. A lifetime, he didn't wish to end, clutching a fistful of Ryu's hair at the arousal coursing through every inch of him. Sweeter than the finest of wine. Defiant against the presence of self-destructive panic.
Overwhelmed, Vega's breath caught in his chest as Ryu pulled back, eyes wide yet his gaze fascinated. Almost glossy with restraint. Amusing that the man practicing self-control throughout most aspects of his life was struggling a bit at this very moment. Sitting there all innocent with an uncomfortably perfect and wholesome expression that thoroughly shattered Vega's self-defenses, self-doubt, and self-loathing. Even if it was but a helpless illusion that was only to last temporarily.
While it lasted, something ephemeral passed between them. A veil of it came over Ryu's eyes as he shifted to wrap his arms around Vega and pull him into his lap. Vega had to catch himself against Ryu's shoulders, placing two tentative hands on them while they sat there with their chests pressed against one another. Pure skin against hideous burn scars.
"You're really light," Ryu said, painfully lighthearted and undoubtedly sincere. Almost childishly curious. It looked strange in contrast to the way his brown eyes almost turned dark.
Such a stupid thing to say, yet it managed to pull a laugh out of Vega, and for that, it was entirely possible to not think at all. He leaned forward a bit and kissed Ryu again, more intense, and heartfelt than he had done to anyone ever in the history of everything. Through tender brushes, he managed to lift Ryu's shirt and explore the span of his broad chest before being laid back down again. Somewhere along the line, their clothes ended up on the floor, allowing their skin to touch again and bursting heat through Vega's broken mind and body. Scalding enough to completely singe the lingering disgust.
It occurred to Vega that it had been so very long since someone had touched him like this and somewhere deep within, there was a part of him famished for contact. And he got that in spades with Ryu's bare body pressed against his own. The mere feeling of it was so overwhelming that it ached by making Vega squirm in a light-headed haze. When they broke apart after another lingering kiss, he shivered, so close to unraveling with the need for comfort and sensuality that he could jump out the nearest window.
"Is it…?" Ryu asked in a breathy whisper.
Whatever in the name of everything holy in the universe he was asking, Vega's answer was and currently always would be whatever was needed to keep proceeding. He nodded and was nearly shattered into pieces at the look of fondness and excitement in Ryu's eyes; unendingly vibrant and Vega, dear god, loved the sight of it.
The admission made him somewhat of a nervous wreck despite the way his pulse raced at every touch between them. His heart nearly stopped when he felt something flaccid press against his thigh, the pressure contrasting Ryu gently touching his face. Like a kitten, Vega leaned into it, lightheaded in a way he had never felt before. Considering the meaning of that reaction, Ryu shifted to settle between Vega's legs again, then stalled like he didn't know what to do.
"N-no, you're supposed to…stretch, I think…" Vega muttered and considered closing his legs together before it occurred to him that he couldn't. He wasn't sure if what he was trying to say was even decipherable but evidently, it was when he felt fingers pressing inside of him and he nearly thrashed where he lay. Instead, he only squirmed for a moment before Ryu touched his face again, soft as a feather. Vega let out a breath, trying not to get overrun by a slew of horrible thoughts. He wanted this. He had to do this while he still could. While he was still alive.
His heartbeat scattered horribly while he lay there and breathed, slow and steady despite the ghost of his past self screaming at him, recoiling at the fact that it was beginning to feel good. Daring to look up at Ryu, he noticed how his expression softened with fascination and active worry battling against animalistic interest.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.
"No, silly," Vega couldn't help but laugh, out of sheer adrenaline running through him with such speed that he could faint. A weird sound came from Ryu as he pressed his fingers deeper to the point of Vega's cock twitching, forcing a needy slight yelp out of the Spaniard.
He burrowed his face in his hands with sounds of an alien nature coming out of him, disconnected to even attempt at conveying the sensations rushing at him. He couldn't tell if it was dulled or intensified by Ryu leaning over to kiss him, ending with his fingers being withdrawn. Vega split his fingers to look at him and his head swirled upon seeing him – and his growing erection poking against the fabric of his briefs. It was hard to focus on anything but that.
Vega didn't get much of a chance anyway when Ryu shifted and started to very slowly enter him. Past Vega, the prideful luchador almost flipped out in a rage at being violated by such a filthy heathen. It felt like pandemonium which amounted to little more than a shudder through Ryu carefully pressing inside. A throaty sound escaped him that almost sounded animalistic as he leaned down to kiss Vega once again.
"Sorry…" he breathed out with a faint sigh.
"What for?" asked Vega through a shaky whisper.
Neither of them knew really. Heavens, sex wasn't supposed to be so emotionally nerve-wracking but here they were with Ryu randomly apologizing through several gentle kisses as he pressed an inch deeper. He probably did something right because a rush of hearty sensations flowed through Vega like a breeze, and he couldn't help the coy little moan that escaped his mouth. Ryu sure did something right as a smile broke through his expression and he moved his hips slowly. He was on top of Vega who could only squirm and arche with want and the sudden onset urge to just let his mouth want.
And then it came.
"Please," he begged in a display of…something or another. It worked wonders because the ghost of his past self vanished into the ether. The faint undertone of disgust was gone, disappearing into some deep abyss he could no longer reach, and it took the emptiness with it, leaving a gaping hole that Ryu filled with whatever he desired as he moved his hips a little harder.
This was different. Vega wasn't being wrapped in comfortable numbness. It felt whole. It felt good. He let his eyes fall to a close and swung his arms around Ryu, nails digging into his skin, then shifted and arched, his head swimming in a sea of unfamiliarity that felt so overwhelmingly welcoming. For clear reasons, his body grew hot to the point of melting almost, devolving into a puddle under a few kisses to the side of his neck. Ryu had him more or less pinned to the mattress, thrusting at a firm pace and Vega eventually rode back against it.
In a haze, Ryu uttered something or another although Vega hardly heard a word of it for the sound of moans and blood rushing in his ears but he figured pretty quickly it was a heads-up of sorts as he felt a hand slide across his stomach to his erection and stroke him gently. A weak cry broke from the pits of his throat before he came harder than he had ever done so before in his life, rendered voiceless for a few seconds. Ryu was still pounding into him, breathless and growing louder moment by moment. His thread of composure unraveled pretty quickly and it was nice to not feel alone in the loss of sanity.
Vega cupped his face firmly and kissed like he had never kissed the women in his bed before. Ryu couldn't resist, melting by the touch until he came with a deep groan seconds later. His breath escaped in deep huffs of air afterward with his lips still pressed against Vega's before he pulled back, opening his eyes.
"It happened," Vega said, weirdly content despite himself. What he was precisely talking about, he wasn't sure.
"Yes," Ryu whispered, nestling his hand in the Spaniard's hair with a giddy smile on his face that he couldn't quite contain. "You look good by the way."
Such flattery didn't come naturally to him judging from the way his eyes darted down. It was so strange to not take it as an admission of lying but rather as a man's natural vulnerability. How quaint. He pulled out and settled in beside Vega with a sound thud. Really, a shower would suffice but the afterglow brought about an air of lackadaisical ease.
Vega couldn't help but chuckle. "Thank you. As do you."
He rolled onto his side, and he could feel the hesitation from Ryu moving closer and wrapping two broad arms around him.
Stay.
The word rested on the tip of Vega's tongue again as the darkness of tomorrow loomed in the back of his mind.
Stay.
He felt his entire torso tense up. Not now. Not like this. Uncertainty rose in his chest, momentarily soothed by a few kisses to the back of his neck. Since this would be the last time, he had to make it worth everything.
Stay…
Worth seeing the world from Menat's eyes. What it meant to love in a world devoid of beauty and hideousness. He felt it settle over him like a blanket and it was frighteningly liberating.
"Do they hurt?" Ryu murmured, referring to the burn scars he had his face pressed against right now.
"You'd know if they would but they do not. Although the skin is quite sensitive there," Vega answered, nearly falling apart at the feeling of Ryu snuggling in. His stomach flipped badly, and he was disturbingly close to unraveling.
Ryu, probably none the wiser, moved strands of brown hair from Vega's face.
"We should say do sparring tomorrow," he said, light-hearted as always. Right. It was better not to think about it. Tonight was tonight, one perfect escape from everything.
That was all Vega needed at the moment.
Dawn came as did Ryu's consciousness.
The room had a warm feel to it. They hadn't drawn the curtains, but the shutters had been closed so the sun pressed streaks through the gaps in the wood. Ryu felt a strip of it across his chest. He felt Florinda's weight in his lap. He opened his eyes and turned his head, staring into a spill of long hair splayed across the sheets close enough for him to nuzzle it slightly.
Thoughts of yesterday flooded his mind momentarily and a hot coat of red spread across his face. He wondered what had compelled him to engage like that; it wasn't lust per se now when he thought about it. There had been something else; a shift in Vega that somehow made it all feel appropriate. What he needed was closeness, somewhere to feel shielded from the mess of yesterday despite his efforts. Because he tried very hard. Contrary to what he himself would say, he was not a bad man. And it would be cruel to call him broken. A mess? No, that was just demeaning. If anything, he was wounded. But he was beyond all that a good person.
Suddenly the thought of leaving him alone for an uncertain time was a little hard to swallow. But surely, he understood. He might not have been able to wrap his head around the philosophy behind it but he accepted its importance. He was a lot wiser than what he gave himself credit for.
Well, there was the sex but that wasn't all that important though Ryu did feel butterflies spawn in his stomach at the thought. Slowly he sat up and looked over his shoulder at a still-sleeping Vega and the scars across his body. A sense of fondness settled over Ryu as he pulled the blanket further over the Spaniard, then eased Florinda out of his lap before he climbed out of bed as gently as he could.
He went on a scavenger hunt for clothes tossed across the floor and found his shirt halfway under the bed next to the only box there. Probably the explanation as to why Vega had chosen this life when with all his wealth and noble privileges, there was no actual obligation to do any of this; work as a gardener or change his identity to that of a typical commoner – or whatever nobles called them.
There was something deeper there. A shameful obligation to hide away after something painful. Something or another that refused to heal. Heaviness settled over Ryu, coiling in his chest to the point where it tightened. He couldn't do much, he realized. All he knew was fighting and sincerity with a little bit of bad humor and mild people skills. He couldn't remove the scars or say the correct things to take everything back but what he could do was to be supportive. He could spend nights with Vega nestled up close to him for closeness.
Pulling that shirt over his head, Ryu came to understand more layers of the affection he had been feeling. It wasn't just friendliness; it was something different. He liked it though. He liked Vega – crazy as that would have sounded before he came here. Without the vanity or the murderous tendencies, this version of the Spaniard currently was someone admirable and personable in a way that made Ryu's heart flutter. He'd probably just botch confessing to that, however. Maybe when he came back, he had undergone some development to make it palatable to human ears.
His thoughts were mercilessly interrupted by a buzz in his pocket, and he fumbled his way to answer a phone call from Ken while descending the stairs to the ground floor.
"Hey, what's up?" he asked. "You're still at that place? Want me to come over and help out? Wanna come here for a change?"
"I might be going when all has been settled. It's a bit delicate."
Ken laughed a little. "It's not at all like you to stay in the same place for so long. I bet whatever is holding you up gotta be something grand. Any longer and I'd have to seriously worry."
"It feels that way," Ryu sighed. It occurred to him that he hadn't spoken openly about Vega at all. Not that anyone would believe him if he did. "You don't need to worry about me though. It's nothing I can't handle."
He could imagine Ken's brow rising with the sound of disbelief that came from him. "What is it exactly?"
"It's…"
"Complicated? Yeah, sure. I get that," Ken wasn't entirely convinced even if he laughed it off. The topic changed to Ken's business, Mel growing bigger and older, Eliza's strides in her career. Ryu let it slip that he had randomly encountered Balrog and found new wisdom in the art of gardening. Exchanging life experiences, it was entirely possible to not think.
After everything, they said their goodbyes and 'see you later' and Ryu stood with a sense of completion, he hadn't felt in a while. It made him feel ten years younger. Not that he was in a bad mood now, but it did shift when he looked over his shoulder and saw Vega quietly sit on the foot of the staircase. He looked wrecked though some life came into his eyes when Ryu stood in front of him. He rose from the stairs, cupped Ryu's face, and kissed him, breathy and desperately. Ryu should ask what was happening.
Instead, they went back upstairs, got halfway undressed, and stumbled onto the bed in the guestroom, lovemaking there in a flurry of indescribable emotions. A momentary distraction that included Ryu on the bed with Vega between his legs and his dick in his mouth. There was something punishing and desperate over it with the way Vega pushed past his own boundaries until his lips were swollen. His expression was blank until Ryu touched his face, telling him with the gentlest voice that he didn't need to go so far. A strange look came over his face before it sank in.
They finished the morning in a tender mess with Ryu pulling Vega close and holding him to his chest for a moment. They probably shouldn't get the habit of having sex instead of talking as it made Ryu feel a little off when he lay with the sense that there was something burning to be discussed. But for now…
"We still got the sparring match," Ryu brushed some hairs off Vega's face. He leaned against the touch like Florinda tended to.
Ryu thought of the times they had fought. Every single encounter, every instance under Bison's watchful gaze. Bison's influence. Strange thoughts to have now of all times. During his time here, he had become far more familiar with the legend behind Bison as a person than he ever imagined he would. His mannerisms, his personality, his tics. His talks about absolute power and world domination. Domination over others; him reveling in others' misery. To him, the depths of people were tools to use and abuse. Ryu had suspected it but now when he had gotten it outright confirmed, he hated it. He hated how it drew out the worst of people and shattered their potential. His influence was crushing but not irreversible. Sagat had broken free from it after all and did just fine.
If fate had been kinder to Vega, maybe he too would have escaped the path of unfortunate events himself much sooner. Right now, he was shivering with anxiety.
"What is it?" Ryu asked.
"Nothing. Just sugar cold."
Vega had the godforsaken ability to obfuscate lies through a thick veil of legitimacy. Chun-Li had mentioned it before; how he used it to portray himself as a sophisticated gentleman who managed to fool most if not everyone around him. Ryu only managed to see through it by analyzing his behavior.
"Maybe doing this before breakfast is a horrid idea," Ryu smirked a bit as he climbed out of bed and got dressed for the second time today.
"Perhaps," Vega shrugged. "May I ask you something? Do you know what love is? What does it feel to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"…Your parents, siblings if you have those, family…they don't choose to love you. It's an obligation. But as you enter the outside world, you are given the ability to love whoever. I was under the impression that it's something you get to choose because you can decide who you let in or not. You set criteria for yourself and you go after those. That is how we chose friends."
Vega climbed out of bed and adjusted his clothes again. His hair had remained unbraided for the entire morning, so he gathered it in a long mass over his shoulder as he continued. "But the person we fall in love with…we have no power over that. They bypass our criteria and there's nothing anyone can do about it."
Ryu's breath caught in his chest and he spoke before he had thought it through. "Are you asking if I love you?"
Vega gave a watery laugh. "No. I'm asking if you know what it feels like to love."
"Good question," Ryu said, thinking of Ken and Eliza's wedding; the look of euphoria on their faces, the tender touches and genuine smiles, the way Ken's eyes lit up whenever he looked at his newly wedded wife. Those adoring gazes never ceased, long before and after their wedding. Ken was always delicate with Eliza in a way he wasn't with others; less brazen and flamboyant. "I don't know. I think it's a constant presence in the back of your mind. You see that person as something far more than everyone else. It's a safe place to be…I guess."
He didn't know what to make of Vega's musing hum and his vacant expression. Curious, Ryu tried to take in any hints of emotions but ended up just hyper-analyzing the Spaniard's face; his photogenic features, the darker scar covering half his face that didn't remove or add to any of it, the fading bruises from the punch yesterday. He flicked his blue eyes to the man staring at him; they remained vibrant despite everything.
And then they darted away again.