Disclaimer: I do not own Loveless, dammit. *Sobs*. It belongs to Yun Kouga

Notes: Two- shot. First ever piece of lemon I am actually really quite nervous about this part :/ I can characterize okay in prose, but speech really screws me over. I can never get speech right – at least, I don't think so anyway. Hope you enjoy anyways. Thank you for reading.

Ritsuka is older than in a manga, because in my mind he IS older because he acts older. Besides, morally speaking, a 20 years old shouldn't be interested in a 12 year old that way so I made him about 15. I know its manga, but I don't feel completely comfortable writing it. So yeah, Ritsuka is older without actual intent. Sorry. xD

UNBETA'D – PLEASE CRITQUE! I KNOW I NEED IT aha.

Media: Manga I guess.

Spoilers: None

Characters:SoubixRitsuka.

Soubi's Opinion:

"How could I have known that I would come to love him so much?" Soubi, Volume 1

Ritsuka had limped from the warm circle of Soubi's arms over to his bed, barely concealing a wince as his he leant on his wrist. And Soubi had watched through narrowed eyes – the boy shouldn't have to be limping, he shouldn't be wincing or grimacing. Soubi had, after watching that saddening sight, rifled through Ritsuka's drawers in his desk for the first add kit Soubi knew he kept in there. He smiled at the glassed case, the broken, inkless pens and the odd notebook. There had been a photo album that Soubi had been tempted to look through but had resisted, taking the kit and closing the drawer with a softened snap.

Now he kneels in front of the dark haired boy, silently wrapping his wrist in clean white linen – tight for support. It had barely healed, and he knows it must be aching. Next, he unwraps a surgical wipe, gently folds it and glances at Ritsuka. He doesn't bother to tell the boy that this will sting, Ritsuka already knows.

But still he winces when Soubi wipes gently but firmly at his wipe, cleansing his skin of blood and any possible germs. They both stay silent through the process – Ritsuka neither admonishes him nor thanks him. He remains quiet, his pride a formidable force. His eyes are downcast, his ears flat to his head and his tail limp. He is the very picture of a boy who has given up, who is exhausted and broken.

"Where else does it hurt?" Ritsuka's ear twitches. Soubi had made a promise years ago to Seimei, promised he would protect the younger Aoyagi. But this goes far beyond any promise, goes beyond words and has morphed into something so much more.

"Ritsuka...?" His large eyes glance up and Soubi can tell he is about to shrug but he thinks better of it. The boy seems to be less inclined to bother with his facade. He doesn't want to be strong – he shouldn't have to be, Soubi thinks. A boy his age shouldn't have to be so independent.

"My head."

Soubi raises an eyebrow. "You should go to hospital."

"No!" Those eyes, once so broken, are now glittering and fierce. "No. I won't. They'll ask questions, they might try to take me from her." His eyes soften. "I can't leave her alone." Soubi says nothing. He has often argued this point with the young boy – but Ritsuka will see no reason. Misaki is his mother and he will not abandon her.

It's admirable in a way, but completely stupid in another.

"You could have concussion," Soubi says but Ritsuka shakes his head.

"I won't go."

Soubi sighs, dropping the used surgical wipe into the box to be disposed of later. He sits back on his hunches, crossing his arms and leaning them on his knees. Soubi smiles comfortingly and shrugs. There is an elongated silence, and Ritsuka's ear twitches again. The boys' sleek tail slips from around his waist and rests so it hangs off the bed, the tip landing on Soubi's knee.

The blonde glances down at it, daring to reach out a few fingers to stroke the soft fur, and it flinches away before relaxing. Ritsuka watches Soubi with wide eyes – no one ever touches his tail. It's too intimate, like stroking a stomach or caressing the inner thighs. Strange to think, but true – in his case at least. But the soft brush of flesh against his tail is oddly calming, as is the familiar smell and warmth of Soubi's proximity.

Soubi concentrates on stroking the black tail on his knees, light touches to soft fur. It's strange – it's been so long since Soubi had a tail. His was lost years ago, and so touching Ritsuka's is a novelty. He doesn't miss his ears or tail, only forgotten what it is to have them.

A small hand then encloses around his fingers, stilling their movements. Soubi glances up into his young patients' eyes – dark orbs that are struggling with something. Soubi questions slightly, eyes flicking down unintentionally at the Ritsuka's pouting lips before meeting those eyes once more. Soubi laces their hands together and uses the leverage to pull Ritsuka towards him.

The kiss is chaste, gentle due to the wound Ritsuka suffered. The boys' noise of surprise is lost, swallowed by Soubi's lips. He waits, half expecting to be shoved away once the shock and the tension fades – it is the usual sequence of events. But it does not come. Instead, Soubi feels Ritsuka's free hand twisting in the front of his shirt, holding him in place as he kisses back. Soft flesh moves against soft flesh.

It's quiet, tentative. Soubi moves with caution, not wanting to frighten Ritsuka back into his shell. Ritsuka kisses with the nervousness of the inexperienced. Soubi pulls away for a moment, leaning his forehead to Rituska's. His eyes are questioning, searching those almost scared orbs gazing back at him.

And when he leans in this time, Ritsuka meets him half way. The boy kisses a little more this time, closing his eyes against the flush of embarrassment flooding his cheeks. He starts a little when a requesting tongue licks at his bottom lip before disappearing again. There's a jolt in his heart and he is unsure if it is nerves or something else.

When Soubi dares to ask silently again, Ritsuka willingly parts his lips, half curious, half terrified. There's a sizzle of electricity screaming down Ritsuka's spine. Soubi always kisses him, chaste presses of lips. But this is different. This, Ritsuka wants.

Soubi eases his tongue into Rituska's mouth, teasing, soothing, stroking. It's wet, Ritsuka is passive but it's nice – it's comfort. Smaller hands tentatively slide up Soubi's chest and curls into his hair, twisting, grabbing. Soubi responds, his own hands shifting to the boys waist, pulling the younger boy closer to him. He deepens the kiss, quickening the pace. He nips so gently at the fuller lower lip and Rituska's whimpers. It's a breathy noise, broken by hitching breath and uncertainty. It speaks directly to Soubi's groin, and he isn't sure to be disgusted by that or not.

Soubi breaks the kiss, glancing at Ritsuka – who is looking flushed and glassy eyed. His eyes glitter with something new, something interesting and his lips are starting to swell with kisses. His hands still curl in the blondes' hair, restricting Soubi's movements. Not that that particularly bothers him.

The blonde leans in, grabbing the slim waist to his body and pressing his lips to the column of alabaster flesh presented to him. Open mouthed kisses suck portions of skin into his mouth to be pleasantly abused with teeth and tongue, nips and licks. Ritsuka gasps, fingers flexing in Soubi's hair. He swallows heavily, unsure – he knows he should stop this, but Soubi's mouth and his hands and his warmth are so inviting. They are so different from the cold harshness of his mother.

His chest feels limited, constricted and his head moves of its own accord, presenting more flesh for Soubi to abuse. The blonde works his way up to Ritsuka's ears, biting the lobe and causing Ritsuka to groan – it is broken off quickly and the boys' cheeks flush.

Soubi grins against skin, kissing the boys' jaw, stroking fingers down the other side of his throat. He isn't here to rush. His mothers' abuse was rushed and hard – Soubi wants to be the opposite, he wants to be slow and soft. He will be comfort for Ritsuka; he will be the one person Ritsuka can turn to.

The boy's fingers tighten as Soubi litters kisses along the boy's jaw before presses his lips to Ritsuka's again. He is bolder, more brazen. He leans into the kisses as he does the touches of Soubi's hand as he slips under his shirt. His breathing hitches, fingers trailing along sensitive skin. His abdominals tense as Soubi distracts the boy with his tongue. The flesh strokes and promises, drawing an indecipherable picture on the roof of Ritsuka's mouth. He whispers a moan as Soubi pushes his hands higher and brushes a nipple with a smooth palm. Ritsuka presses himself against the heat of Soubi, kissing the blonde hard – his meekness forgotten in the heat of the moment.

Soubi smiles, pushes the boy into the mattress, leaning over him as the boys' tail eases around Soubi's waist, his bent knees cradling Soubi's body. The blonde pulls back – he doesn't want to speak, lest he shock Ritsuka out of whatever has grasped him now and allowed this contact.

His fingers play with the hem of Ritsuka's shirt, questioning before Ritsuka nods – abashed. Still smiling, Soubi tugs Ritsuka free of the clothing, pressing a light kiss to his collarbone. The dark haired boy is tense, teeth gritted in nerves and need as Soubi's hands skim up his side before tweaking a dark nipple, earning himself a pleasantly sharp intake of breath. The other is covered with a mouth, lightly sucking the hardening nub. There is a mewl from above, quickly stifled by a hand ripped from blonde locks and cupped over a mouth.

The slim body arches off the bed to meet Soubi, who flicks the nub with his tongue before kissing it lightly. Covered with denim, Soubi can feel the boy's hardness, but the boy himself has his eyes squeezed shut and a hand clamped over his mouth. His chest is heaving, his back arched like a cat and his tail wrapping around Soubi's body.

"Ritsuka?"

"Shut up..." came the ground out reply, breathless. "Don't... speak to me. It's embarrassing." Soubi chuckles, shrugs and slides up Ritsuka's body to plant a kiss on his chin, whilst his hand smoothes down soft skin. He makes quick work of the button of Ritsuka's jeans, and that tension is back.

Soubi tugs the hand that has snuck over Ritsuka's mouth once more away. He kisses him, prying open his mouth with his tongue to distract him. His hand pins Ritsuka's uninjured hand to the bed. Ritsuka melts into the familiar feeling of being kissed, tilting his head and meeting Soubi's tongue with his own. He moans into the mouth, gasping as Soubi's hand slips into his jeans, grasping virgin flesh for the first time.

Fingers claw at Soubi's neck, grasping for something that they can't find. The younger boy arches, Soubi swallowing those enticing little mewls of pleasure as his hand moves in restricted movements inside the boys' jeans.

Soubi's lips transverse the flesh of Ritsuka's already tender throat, tasting him, pleasing him – earning appreciative fractured by breathlessness. Broken noises of pleasure. Fingers grip and pull at Ritsuka.

"S-Soubi..." needy, desirous, ultimately sexy. Soubi groans against Ritsuka's neck.

"You're ears won't go, if that's what your worried about."

"N-No..." He squeezes his eyes shut and Soubi pauses in his movements.

"Then what?"

"I want... I..." With a devilish smirk, Soubi moves his hand and Ritsuka moans, his back arcing as his fingers clutch at the covers beneath him. "More..."

Soubi chuckles, he lowers his head to nip a thin, bony hip as his hands work at freely Ritsuka from his jeans. Ritsuka closes his eyes, a throaty gasp escaping as Soubi ducks his head and pulls the head into his mouth, sucking lightly. The boy claws at his bedding, biting his lip harshly, tasting blood as he tries to keep from making any noise.

Soubi pulls back, licking the weeping slit, before swallowing the head once more. There is a part of him screaming how decadent this really is, after all Ritsuka really is only fifteen and yet, Soubi can't restrain himself. The blonde moves forward more, swallowing the hard flesh, his tongue trailing up the main vein and sucking with just the right pressure. Ritsuka bucks up into the warm, heat heat encircling him, keening noises tumbling from trembling lips.

He needs this, he need the release this will provide. He moans as Soubi moves up and down his hardness, his tongue discovering his sensitive spots and exploiting them. It ducks under the head, flattening along the side, and all the time creating and wonderful sense of pressure. Ritsuka acts on instinct, mind hazy with a sense of pleasure, spiking and electrifying, generating from his cock and bleeding into his veins.

He feels dizzy under the hot, expert tongue now driving him towards insanity. All embarrassment, all thoughts towards stopping and the possible humiliation have been drawn out of his mind. All he can focus on is Soubi's mouth and tongue, on the hot wetness and sinful pleasure.

His hands are gripping Soubi's hair without himself realising and Soubi smiles around his mouthful, pulling back to tease the head with licks and sucks. Ritsuka is writhing, moaning into his hand, arching off the bed and flexing his fingers in Soubi's hair.

There is tension – so hard, so painful. Heat bathes his stomach and tenses his muscles. They're eyes meet and Ritsuka groans, his head falling back. Soubi can feel the tenseness of the muscles in the legs around him, in the stomach above him.

He swallows the hard flesh to base, and hums. Ritsuka makes a noise, a half sob and half whimper. The Pressure is unbelievable, building and building. He can't keep this up; the pleasure of Soubi's mouth is undeniable. It hurts.

Soubi sucks, hard, his tongue running flat against the flesh in his mouth and moans. There is an explosion behind his eyes – a blank whiteness. Relief floods his system and his fingers relax in the bedding. Soubi swallows the boys' release with ease, helping Ritsuka ride through his orgasm, rubbing the boys' hip.

Ritsuka sighs, falling back onto the bed. His back aches from being arced, his fingers hurt from the gripping the bed sheets. He is tired, eyes sleepy. He has to admit, that was better than anything he could've achieved with his hand.

Soubi released the now soft cock from his mouth, tucking the boy back into his jeans before moving to sit next to him. The taste of Ritsuka is still on his tongue, and he leans over to press a kiss to those lax lips. The dark haired boy, half-heartedly kisses back, tired.

"You shouldn't sleep you know," Soubi says. "You might have concussion."

Ritsuka sighs. "You shouldn't have done that," he snaps without any real venom, "If I slip into a coma I's your fault." Soubi snorts, shaking his head, before he stands up and takes the boy in arms. He tucked the boy up and goes to move out of the room.

"Don't leave me..." vulnerability.

Soubi smiles. "I'm not; I'll be back in a moment." Soubi slips from the room, pulling out his mobile and dialling the number of a doctor. He has a short conversation, ensuring a date with him later tonight (in which Soubi will have to try and work out a way of getting the doctor in without Ritsuka's mother finding out – but he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it.) Soubi is still smiling, fingers touching his lips in disbelief.

He shakes his head – whenever he thinks he has worked Ritsuka out, the boy always finds a way to surprise him. He pushes open the door and Ritsuka is still awake, just barely.

"Ritsuka, don't fall asleep."

"But... tired..." Soubi sighs, crawling on the bed and enveloping the boy in his arms. He doesn't miss how Ritsuka snuggles into the warmth, without a flush of embarrassment. The afterglow state of his mind making him a lot more accepting to affection.

And Soubi tucks his head under his chin. "You don't deserve what she does to you, Ritsuka. You should believe me."

"Not her's..." the boy mumbles. "Not... her Ritsuka. My fault..."

"But it's not her Ritsuka I love, is it?" Soubi replies. "It's you..."

"But..."

"No buts, Ritsuka. You do not deserve to be hurt for being you, when it is you that so many people love."

Ritsuka doesn't reply, he just clasps to the heat of Soubi's body and tries to believe his words. Just for tonight.