Title: Benedicto
Fandom: Loveless
Pairing: Ritsuka/Soubi
Rating: Hard R.
Word Count: 1,460
Summary/Description: These days, when Soubi kissed him, it didn't just make him blush; it made him feel things, in his head and in his heart and in his… other places.
Warning/Spoilers: Yaoi. Smut. Masturbation, voyeurism. n////n No, I don't believe I wrote it either.
A/N: Written for the Loveless Anonymous Kink Meme. Request: Soubi/Ritsuka voyeurism. Originally posted as 'Look at Me'. This is… so explicit. (hides)
Disclaimer: Loveless belongs to Kouga Yun or somebody, I dunno. Just not me.
Ritsuka's first thought was that he should have knocked. Soubi had said that he was going for a shower, and though a reasonable amount of time had passed, it would have been the polite thing to do. However, the pot of water that Soubi had put on the stove was beginning to come to a boil, and Ritsuka, in his haste to ask him how many cups of rice to put in, hadn't thought before pushing the door open.
His second thought was that he didn't know if he was lucky or not that the door had swung open without the barest sound.
His third thought was— he didn't have a third thought, actually. His mind had gone blank.
Soubi was standing naked in the middle of his bedroom, hands resting lightly on his hips. Droplets of water from his shower still clung to his pale skin, giving it an alluring sheen. His wispy hair stuck to his face and his skin, and his glasses were nowhere in sight. He faced the wall to Ritsuka's left, and the boy could see the crisscrossing of scars that marred his back, as well as his half hard penis that jutted out from the blond curls at the apex of his thighs.
Ritsuka stared.
He knew that he should move. He knew that it was wrong – wrong, wrong, wrong – to stare at Soubi this way. He knew that he was invading his Fighter's privacy.
But… but he was beautiful.
It was the curve of his long neck as he arched it to shake the remnants of water out of his hair. It was the scars that marked his skin, twisted and ugly, and yet giving him character, because they spoke of all he had been through, all he had endured. It was his blond hair, light and feathery to the touch; Ritsuka knew. He'd been lucky enough to bury his hands and his face in it many times, drawing comfort and strength from the perfumed mass. It was his eyes, violet and piercing, always so gentle, and yet capable of turning flint hard and fierce when battling. It was his hands, long fingered and smooth, trailing down his torso, thumbing at his nipples, grazing at his stomach, cupping between his legs…
Ritsuka's breath hitched violently, and he felt something surge in his pants.
Soubi and Ritsuka had loved each other for a long time, since Ritsuka was twelve. Ritsuka felt stupid even thinking about it, but it was the kind of love… it was the kind of love that didn't have boundaries or conditions or limits. It had taken Ritsuka some time to reciprocate Soubi's love, but when he did, it was fiercely, yet quietly, with all of his being.
They had agreed not to take things to a physical level until Ritsuka was old enough; Soubi himself had said from the beginning that he had no interest in having sex with a child. But… but now Ritsuka was sixteen years old, with a raging libido to match, and these days, when Soubi kissed him, it didn't just make him blush; it made him i feel /i things, in his head and in his heart and in his… other places.
Soubi gave a ragged moan that jolted Ritsuka back to the present. His mind was still telling him that he could still get away without giving away his presence, but he was rooted to the spot, fascinated by the sight and sound of his Fighter touching himself. One of Soubi's hands was wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft, twisting and pulling hard, making himself hiss with pleasure. The other hand explored the pale expanse of his chest, caressing his abdominal muscles, pinching at his nipples. He did not bother to try to check his groans; they spilled loud and free from his lips. Ritsuka whimpered, feeling his burgeoning erection press against the zipper of his jeans.
Soubi staggered forward, hand still firmly griping his prick, until he met he wall. He let his forehead rest against it, bracing himself, and continued to stroke himself. The room was utterly quiet, except for his harsh breathing and the occasional noise of pleasure, and Ritsuka tried hard not to make a sound. It was difficult; a whimper teased at his throat when Soubi stopped stimulating his nipples to trail his fingers up his chest and slip his index into his mouth. He sucked on it carefully, as if enjoying a delicacy. Ritsuka's shaft actually jumped. His legs shifted, and he undid the top button of his jeans, trying to make himself more comfortable.
Soubi's finger vacated his mouth with a slightly obscene sound, and trailed down his chest. His legs widened, even as he kept on pumping his thick erection, and he bent over, moving the finger behind his back. Ritsuka's breath caught in his throat, and his mouth went dry as Soubi eased the finger inside himself, exhaling heavily.
Ritsuka could feel his face grow flaming hot. He was harder than he'd ever thought possible. Soubi thrust into himself, biting his lip, moving in time with the hand that stroked his shaft, increasing the speed with every moment that passed. There was a bead of pre-come at the tip of his penis, white and round and perfect. His eyes closed, and his tongue traced a path on his bottom lip.
"Ritsuka…" he sighed, curling the words over his tongue like he was speaking a benison, and Ritsuka forgot how to breathe.
He… he said his name.
Ritsuka's face was burning with his blush, and he desperately wanted to touch himself but didn't want to at the same and he was feeling so much, so much, he couldn't put it into thoughts or words and he had said his name and it was… it was…
"Ritsuka." Soubi's finger was embedded deep in him; he hissed as he moved it. His name sounded twice as beautiful the second time Soubi said it. "Ritsuka… come inside." His voice was breathy. "And close the door."
Ritsuka almost swallowed his tongue.
"I… I…" He couldn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. Embarrassment flooded him. How long had Soubi sensed his presence? Why hadn't he said anything earlier? And… why were his legs moving?
"Yes, come." Soubi's voice was so soft, so soothing, so melodic, even when it was underscored and hoarse with pleasure. Ritsuka did as he was told, as if in a trance. He unzipped his jeans while he was at it; he couldn't help it. He needed to be touched, now, or he would die from the sensation. He closed his eyes as he finally grasped himself, wanting to sob with relief.
"Ritsuka." The Fighter's voice sounded a little sharp this time, and Ritsuka's eyes flew open. Soubi's hips were rocking with his every motion, and his hands were moving faster, faster, on his skin and inside of himself. "Look at me," he insisted.
It was as if the words themselves had magnetised Ritsuka's eyes to Soubi; as soon as he said them, the boy couldn't tear his eyes away from Soubi's muscled arms, his sweat-slicked face, his engorged penis, his curved bottom. Unconsciously, he started to move his hand over his own shaft, tightening and twisting his grip, pumping it with everything he said. Soubi was so, so beautiful…
"Ritsuka," Soubi gave harshly, pulled tightly at himself, back arching, and came all over the wall with a long groan. He kept stroking himself until it was over, and even then, he kept moving his finger inside of himself. Slowly, he slid his violet gaze to Ritsuka. His eyes were tired, yet alight with tenderness and hunger. Ritsuka moved his hand faster, flexing his hips uncontrollably. He was close, so close… "Were you looking at me, Ritsuka?"
It was too much.
"Soubi!" he cried as he came, his come splashing on his hand and his jeans and the floor as he spasmed almost violently. His legs gave out and he fell to his knees, giving a dry sob, the pleasure almost scrambling his brain.
Soubi watched him intently as he rode out the storm, eyes tracing over his body as if memorising the details. He then extracted his finger from himself, and walked over. Ritsuka, gasping and sweating and trying in vain to catch his breath, could only watch as he did.
Soubi knelt next to him, and pressed their brows together lightly, reverently, and sighed, like it was a blessing. Despite himself, Ritsuka blushed, and managed a shaky smile.
"Thank you," Soubi said simply, and Ritsuka felt like his heart would burst. He forwent calling him an idiot (after all these years, it was understood) and only reached out to kiss him on the lips.