Title: If This Silence Takes You (Let It Take Me Too) [Soubi/Ritsuka]
Fandom: Loveless
Rating/Warnings: PG? Kio wants Ritsuka's pants.
Summary: Kio and Ritsuka try to tell Soubi that art isn't exactly relaxing, given his choice of subject.
A/N: Mousapelli's Birthday Theme 22: Whose way to relax is better?
"It's
relaxing," Soubi said around the paintbrush that was clenched between
his teeth, snarling at the blob of white he was attempting to mix into
sky blue with the pad of his thumb.
On the other side of the
canvas that was lying on the floor, Ritsuka tilted his head up, peering
at Kio to see what he thought about Soubi's answer to his question,
ears flicking in disbelief. Kio shook his head, barely even looking up
from the bowl of brownie batter he was stirring. "Ask him about the
butterflies."
"Kio," Soubi warned, then cursed as he used the
wrong finger to mix the paint more, smudging red into it, which meant
that he had to start all over.
"Ask him?" Ritsuka's ears flicked more, and he turned back to Soubi. "Ask him what? Soubi, what about the butterflies?"
"Nothing
about the butterflies," Soubi said, squeezing more paint out of the
tube with a vicious clench of his hand. "I just paint them."
"But
you don't like them," Kio added, coming over and handing Ritsuka the
spoon. "Lick it," he ordered when Ritsuka held the sticky thing between
two fingers and peered at Kio some more.
"But I don't…"
"Lick."
Kio gave Ritsuka the Eye, and Ritsuka swiped his tongue tentatively
over the back of the spoon. His eyebrows flew up and his tail swished,
then Ritsuka stuck the whole spoon in his mouth.
"Oo on ike em?" he asked Soubi around the spoon.
"No, he hates them," Kio answered, and there was a crack
of splitting wood as Soubi bit down harder on the paintbrush. Rolling
his eyes, Kio reached down and pried Soubi's jaw open to remove the
brush and waved it at him. "Honesly, Sou-chan, you're going to get
splinters in your tongue again!"
"Ut en," Ritsuka took the
cleaned spoon out of his mouth and handed it to Kio, who strode back to
the counter, pink apron swishing, "why do you paint them?"
"I told you," Soubi picked up another brush and dabbed it in the color he'd finally finished mixing, "it's relaxing."
Ritsuka's
ears drooped a little as he watched Soubi dab brushstrokes of blue on
the canvas with sharp turns of his wrist, his nose wrinkled and
forehead creased, teeth sinking into his lower lip when it didn't go
exactly as he wanted. Behind them, the oven door creaked as Kio slid
the brownie pan in.
"Do you even know what relaxing means?"
Kio asked as he was peeling his apron off. His voice was light, like he
had meant to tease, but Ritsuka sat up suddenly.
"No, he doesn't."
Kio
gasped, half shock and half laughter, as Ritsuka darted forward
suddenly, knees sliding onto the canvas and right through the wet
paint.
"Ritsuka!" Soubi's jaw dropped, the name as close as
Soubi ever got to reprimanding, but Ritsuka didn't quail, kneeling
directly in front of Soubi in blue-streaked jeans. Ritsuka reached up
and held Soubi's face between his hands.
"Stop it," he said.
"Ritsuka," Soubi tried to pull gently out of Ritsuka's hands, "I have school work to…"
"Stop it,"
Ritsuka repeated louder, tightening his grip, fur bristling over his
ears and tail. "Soubi, you hate it, don't you?" Ritsuka's fingers
drifted over Soubi's face, pressing the crease in between his eyebrows
flat and using his thumbs to smooth out the pinched corners of his
mouth. Soubi's hands, still covered in paint, were fisted in his lap
around the paint brush.
"Ritsuka…"
"Don’t
paint butterflies anymore," Ritsuka interrupted, tugging the paint
brush out of Soubi's grip and letting it clatter to the floor. He
glared at Soubi with wide, violet eyes and fisted hands in his shirt.
"It's an order!"
Ritsuka squawked when Soubi grabbed him by the
shirtfront and hauled him closer, hands smearing paint across his shirt
and burying his nose between Ritsuka's flattened ears.
"Ritsuka is so cute," Soubi murmured faintly, and Ritsuka curled arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly.
"Honestly,
you two," Kio was standing beside them, rolling his eyes. "You can't do
anything normal, can you? Take off your pants, kid."
"What?!" Ritsuka jerked his head up to glare, cheeks flooding pink.
"You
want 'em to stain?" Kio put one hand on his hip and held out the other.
"You did just crawl through paint, you know. Hand 'em over, shirt too.
I'll wash 'em out."
Soubi had to admit, with Ritsuka curled up
in his lap in one of his old shirts, and Kio handing them chunks of
brownie from the pan that singed their fingers, while he sketched shaky
flowers in red-streaked blue paint with a brush that had rings of
teethmarks and a big crack in the handle, that maybe Ritsuka and Kio
knew what they were talking about.
"Soubi!" Ritsuka protested,
laughing, when Soubi sucked the last bite of brownie from Ritsuka's
fingers, the rich chocolate melting over his tongue.
"My hands are covered in paint," Soubi grinned, and Ritsuka punched his shoulder.
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