Title: A Hurt So Deep
Fandom: Loveless
Pairing: Ritsuka/Soubi
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 614
Summary/Description: Soubi's scars aren't the only things that mark him, Ritsuka learns.
Warning/Spoilers: None, really.
A/N: Written for the Loveless Anonymous Kink Meme on LJ. Request: A Soubi/Ritsuka (or Ritsuka/Soubi, if you prefer) story where Ritsuka explores/studies Soubi's scars. This request intrigued me, so I tried it out. No porn, though. :(
Disclaimer: Blah blah, I don't own Loveless, blah blah.
"Take off your clothes," Ritsuka said firmly, folding his arms over his chest. To his credit, he only blushed a little when he said it.
Soubi's smile curved slowly.
"Ritsuka," he murmured from his perch on the bed, eyebrows raised. His tone was appreciative, and made his Sacrifice's face flood fully with colour.
"You know what I mean," he said crossly, walking over. "You were hurt. Now let me see. It's an order," he adds, adding flint to his voice. He crouched on the bed behind Soubi, and poked the blond lightly.
With a small, barely there sigh, Soubi grabbed his sweater by the hem and pulled it over his head.
The large red abrasion that he had gotten in the battle held Ritsuka's attention for all of one second.
"S-Soubi!" he cried, eyes widening as he took in the large raised welts, curved scars, and rough patches of healed skin that marked Soubi's back like a landscape of pain. He raised a hand, but couldn't bring himself to touch it. His mouth dropped open in horror. "H-how did this happen?! Who did this to you?"
Soubi hands rested on his knees, and his hair obscured his eyes.
"Sensei," was all he said, very simply.
"What kind of teacher would—" Ritsuka cut himself off, looking very upset. One of his fingers touched the raised skin of a scar by accident, and he heard Soubi let out a soft, hissing breath. He whipped his hand back as if Soubi was on fire.
"I—Sorry!" he said, face burning . "I… I didn't mean to…"
"Don't apologise, Ritsuka," Soubi said soothingly. "You didn't hurt me. I'm simply a bit sensitive there."
"…Oh," Ritsuka said, frowning, features warped with confusion.
"You can touch them if you would like," Soubi continued, turning a little to lock eyes with the younger boy.
Ritsuka opened his mouth to claim that he didn't want to do that at all, but his fingers had already started moving. They lighted upon a crescent shaped scar that ran from Soubi's shoulder down to the middle of his back. He followed the line carefully, almost reverently, and did not miss the fact that Soubi's breathing quickened.
"Do… do they still hurt?" he wanted to know. His face coloured more, but he continued to touch and watch with a hybrid of fascination and horror.
Soubi shook his head.
"No," he said simply, only to suck in a sharp breath when Ritsuka fingered a welt on the small of his back.
Ritsuka still sounded a bit confused.
"Why would… why would anyone do this?" Gently, his fingers continued to explore the mass of scarred flesh. He stroked them softly, as if he could undo the hurt that had gone into making them.
Soubi's hands curled into fists in his lap; his voice, though, remained as calm and level as ever. He threw Ritsuka a small smile.
"Discipline," was his answer.
"Discipline?" Ritsuka's brow furrowed. "Hurting someone to discipline them? That's weird. And stupid."
Soubi shook his head.
"No, it worked very well on me, and made me into the Fighter I am. I would not object if Ritsuka wanted to—"
"Soubi!" Ritsuka cried immediately, alarmed. "No! I wouldn't… that's stupid! I won't do it, and don't you ever ask me to!" His voice was shrill and adamant, and his tail arched in indignation.
Stark silence followed.
"I'm sor-" Soubi started to offer.
"Don't apologise," Ritsuka snapped, though gently. Hesitantly, he wound his arms around Soubi's torso, pressing his chest against his Fighter's back. His cheek brushed against a thick welt, and he could hear Soubi sigh as he closed his eyes. "It's not your fault."
A/N: I wanted to go a little deeper into the discipline thing, and Soubi's issues, but it wasn't coming. :/ Nevertheless, I'd like to know what you think.