A/N: One-shot: not quite shounen-ai, unless you squint…more like deep but still growing companionship. No real warnings or spoilers…unless you need to be warned about fluffiness, gentle reader. In such a case, I must wonder why you would read any of my published work seeing as I deal almost exclusively in sugary cuteness deserving of big, fuzzy blankets and lots of toothpaste (don't want any cavities, now…).

Disclaimer: I still do NOT own Loveless.

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Ritsuka didn't mind the rain. In fact, he liked it quite a bit. It gave him excuses to get lost in his thoughts, to enjoy the silence, and it gave him a little sliver of peace from the daily chaos of his existence.

Ritsuka thought that Soubi liked the rain, too. The man didn't seem to mind it, at least; otherwise, why would he show up at Ritsuka's window, jacketless and sopping wet and ignoring the boy's heated frustration with such a pleasant expression? Soubi never used an umbrella, never dressed for the weather…he simply waltzed into Ritsuka's room through the frosty glass with an agreeable smile, only to flop onto the floor cross-legged and silently gaze out at the glimmering drops, mesmerized.

Soubi's behavior in regard to rainy days was consistent, always, and thus today was no different than any other, as far as Ritsuka was concerned. He let the man in with a scowl, tossed him a towel for his dripping hair, and returned to his homework. It was routine. But today, his attentiveness was not as directed as it should have been, the boy decided, for he soon found himself doodling aimlessly across the page and tapping his foot in time to the heavy drumming heard through the windowpanes. He turned his gaze over his left shoulder, where Soubi was staring blankly at the misty, tumultuous world outside. Ritsuka had never noticed before how the man's eyebrows were furrowed as if in deep thought, while his eyes were as empty as a starless sky. He also had never noticed his fighter's shoulders…

Quivering?

Was he cold after all? Soubi had never complained before. In fact, this time he had taken off his sopping wet jacket and changed into one of Ritsuka's long-sleeved shirts—technically the boy's father's—and seemed warm enough. But then why was his body shaking like that, albeit slightly?

Ritsuka swiveled in his desk chair, one ear askew. "Soubi," he called. No response. His toe tapped more fiercely in impatience. "Soubi!" That time, the man was clearly startled, blinking rapidly as if coming out of a trance as he looked toward his sacrifice. He looked lost for a moment.

"Gomen, Ritsuka," he murmured quietly, eyes repentant and infinitely sorrowful. The cat-eared boy felt his insides slosh around uncomfortably. "I must have spaced out for a while; I'm terribly sorry." He shook his blonde head as though chasing away an insect. "What is it you wanted?"

"N-Nothing, baka," the boy stuttered, his tail fluffing out into a thick, stiffened bottlebrush. It beat harshly against the leg of his desk chair. "I just wanted to ask if you were cold, that's all."

An amiable yet disturbingly fake smile greeted Ritsuka's searching gaze. "No, I'm fine. Thank-you for your concern, though."

The storm continued to roar steadily outside; the low grumbling of a thundercloud's growl sent shudders through the floor to be noted by Ritsuka's small, sock-clad foot. He also noted the shudder that ran through Soubi's taut frame.

"Soubi," he queried softly, a little more delicately than before, "are you alright? I thought that you liked the rain…" He trailed off as Soubi chuckled; it was a dark, morbid sound that sent invisible icy creatures crawling up and down the boy's spine.

"I'm fine, Ritsuka; I actually hate the rain, but I think it suits me quite well."

"Why?"
Soubi pulled his knees up to his chest—a strange gesture for the adult that worried Ritsuka almost as much as the pregnant silence that yawned between them. "If I get wet," he finally answered, voice rough and with a sardonic smirk twitching at his face despite his vacant crystalline eyes, "then it's because I deserve it. When it's dark and cold outside…it's familiar to me." He gave a small shrug.

Ritsuka swallowed against his constricting throat and fidgeted. He could have made a comment about Soubi being a masochist or a weirdo or just stupid, but decided that now wasn't the time. "…Does it reflect how you feel sometimes, Soubi?"

He didn't get an answer aside from the inconspicuous twitch the fighter gave as a thunderclap pierced their ears.

"I…I feel like that too, you know," the boy continued hesitantly, ears flat against his head and violet eyes shifted away to the floorboards. "Sometimes, it's like there's all this noise going on somewhere inside your head, but nobody knows about it or cares, so you wonder if your feelings even matter at all…and then it feels really dark and unfriendly…just like it looks outside right now."

"Mm."

Silence stretched again, and when the room lit up with the whiplash of lightning, Ritsuka heard a sharp intake of breath from where his friend still sat, eyes transfixed on the window but a little wider than before. They were also vaguely foggy this time, like murky pools set in pale sand.

"Are you scared, Soubi?" he asked quietly, cautiously. "Are you afraid of storms like this, even though you'll still walk through them to come see me?" Tears pricked at the corners of Ritsuka's eyes like tiny raindrops when Soubi lowered his head in shame, remaining deathly silent. He began to think of times when he had sent his fighter home in such weather after shouting in surprise and rage at his sudden intrusions. He would sometimes even shove the man right back out onto the balcony with a flurry of embarrassment at the 'intrusion', slamming the window shut. There were too rainy nights like this, he realized, that he had treated Soubi in such a way.

"Gomen, Ritsuka." The words were so subdued that the boy could hardly make out intelligible words.

"Don't apologize." Steeling his resolve as best he could, despite how his heart throbbed guiltily and his insides felt like mush, Ritsuka got up from his desk, and snatched the plush navy comforter from his bed. He stepped in front of Soubi, reaching up on his tiptoes to draw the curtains across the window, effectively halting the man's melancholic gazes into the cold world beyond the balcony.

"Ritsuka, what are you—?" The fighter never got to finish his question, instead gasping lightly in shock as the boy dropped to his knees, their noses nearly brushing. His sacrifice looked him straight in the eye as he draped the comforter across the man's broad, lean shoulders.

"It's okay to be scared, Soubi," Ritsuka murmured, trying to be comforting, his tail swishing about in lazy patterns behind him while he wrapped the blanket tightly around the blonde's body. He reached out one hand to the man's bandaged neck, hearing him sigh deeply as sapphire eyes slowly closed and he relaxed into the touch. Feeling a little bolder, Ritsuka settled himself into Soubi's lap, relishing the warmth their bodies provided. He tucked his head under the elder's chin, slipped his slender arms around the man's torso loosely, and let their chests rest against one another with a little squeak of contentment. Ritsuka found himself smiling at the rush of familiarity that came with their quiet proximity—especially now that Soubi's worrisome trembling had nearly subsided—and wondered if Soubi was smiling too. Judging by how tightly he was being held and the small, whimpering sounds that found their way to his furred ears as the blonde's fears slowly bubbled out…Ritsuka figured that if Soubi wasn't smiling now, he probably would soon enough.

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Reviews both show your love and encourage love back from the author! Want more fluff? Check out my other Loveless one-shots; they're steadily growing into a nice little collection, it seems…

Jikai made

(until next time)