A Twisted Triangle

On Ritsuka’s thirteenth birthday, Seimei threw him a party. Ritsuka’s effervescence had earned him a wide array of friends, and thus, the party was no small matter. Their mother had been called to the other side of the city for a job interview, leaving Seimei to watch the group of adolescents on his own. It was in this light that he called for reinforcements. Soubi.

“Of course. I’ll head right over.”

When the line went dead, Soubi sighed with mild fatigue. He had gotten little to no sleep the night before, and he really was in no condition to watch a bunch of teenagers party. But who was he to turn Seimei down? Pocketing his cell phone and heading out with his favorite cobalt blue jacket, Soubi hit the pavement, his subconscious navigation system kicking into gear and leading him to Seimei’s home. In any other case, Seimei’s mother would have been enough incentive to keep Soubi away from the house, but with her out of the way, Soubi supposed it was safe.

To date, Soubi had never actually laid eyes on Ritsuka. In truth, and only to himself, he admitted he was rather anxious about meeting him face to face. Was he anything like his older brother?

Suddenly, Soubi laughed.

Two Seimeis. That was a thought.

“God forbid,” Soubi chuckled.

I don’t think the world could handle another Aoyagi Seimei.

A short walk and a cigarette later, Soubi came across the Aoyagi home. With a tentative hand, he knocked three times, and then stepped back onto the doormat.

From where he was, he could hear music, not to mention feel the bass pulsating the earth to some extent. Unconsciously, Soubi tapped his foot to the beat. He rather liked this song. Jesus Christ R’N’R by Dir en grey. Not a bad choice for a party.

Seimei opened the door. A relieved sigh spilled from his lips.

“Thank God. Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch twenty thirteen-year-old’s?”

Soubi chuckled.

“I had hoped to never find out. Alas, here I am.”

Stepping back to allow Soubi entrance to his home, Seimei gestured behind him.

“They’re all out in the pool right now. Little cretins.”

Soubi slipped off his shoes at the designated square of tile and glanced beyond the parlor and out the back door. His blue eyes narrowed, mocking the surely impending doom that awaited the two of them.

“Loud,” Soubi stated the obvious.

“All teenagers are,” Seimei responded, albeit not in jest.

The black-haired Aoyagi led Soubi into the living room where they could watch out the sliding glass window to make sure none of them started trying to drown each other, or whatever it was teenagers did.

Soubi took a long glance to his left, and then his right. He had never actually seen the interior of the Aoyagi home, at least, not beyond Seimei’s bedroom. It was decorated rather nicely, he had to admit. Not many detail pieces, but that was to be expected of a home with children.

When Soubi next glanced to Seimei, he could sense his uneasiness. He could see it, actually. Seimei had taken to wiping his hands with a pocket-handkerchief; something he often did.

Seimei, the poor soul, was a long sufferer of mysophobia, a pathological fear of germs. How he must have suffered with an entire house full of germ-carrying teenagers! He often told Soubi to wash his hands at random intervals throughout the day, more so after Soubi had been in contact with another human being. Soubi never complained. Who didn’t have an insecurity like that? Soubi had even made it a note to smoke as little as possible around the man.

“So,” Soubi shifted gears as he rid himself of his jacket, neatly hanging it over a chair in the adjacent kitchen. As he strode back, he gestured out the windowpane before Seimei.

“Which one is your brother?”

Seimei went quiet as he sought out his little brother, and he pointed a moment later. “The one sitting on the diving board. Black hair, blue swim trunks.”

Blue eyes flickered until they found the birthday boy in question.

Soubi could have sworn that his heart pulled the most cliché move of all and stopped.

Ritsuka didn’t just look like Seimei. He was the spitting image of him. From the barely-there curve at the tip of his feline ears, the unruly wave of his messy black hair, the construction of his face and right down to the way his tail twitched underneath him. Were Seimei to be thrown into a trash compactor and squashed down to half his size, Ritsuka would surely have been the result.

But the striking resemblance wasn’t what had caused Soubi’s vital organs to stall.

There was something about this boy. Something… unique. He wasn’t sure what.

Ritsuka laughed at something one of his little friends said, and his entire face lit up. Something about this boy called out to Soubi, glowing, almost radiating a fume that had manifested in Soubi’s nostrils and forcibly caught his attention. A pheromone. Yes, that had to be it. A pheromone emitted only by a thirteen-year-old boy named Ritsuka.

Soubi fell silent.

What in all Hell was he thinking?!

The blond shook his head to clear his thoughts.

“He looks… just like you,” Soubi said at last.

Seimei chuckled. “So I hear. Our mother says he acts just like I did when I was his age, too.”

“I can imagine that,” Soubi said as he pocketed his hands in his tight denim jean pockets. He leaned back on his heels, regaining his casual state of mind. “A mini-Seimei… Oh, I don’t think the world is ready for another you yet” Soubi teased, to which Seimei responded with a playful smack to the blond’s shoulder.

“True, true. Very true.”

Violet eyes watched Soubi for a few moments, watching him so carefully; watching him like a housecat watches a mouse just before the pounce. Soubi didn’t notice. However, he did take a bit of notice when Seimei yanked on his collar and dragged him into the sanctuary of the kitchen, away from adolescent eyes.

It was there that Seimei backed Soubi toward the wall housing an off-white telephone and a rectangular notepad with the bright green lettering of ‘Things to Do’ printed on the header. Soubi hardly had time to express his mild shock before Seimei shoved him back against the wall, forcing his lips onto those of the blond’s. It was almost as though Seimei suddenly felt the need to assert his authority, or something of the like. Whatever it was for, Soubi consented with a compliant little mewl and a parting of his thin lips.

No sooner offered than taken; Seimei plunged his tongue into Soubi’s gaping orifice, searching, plundering the lingering taste of Seven Star cigarette smoke and the essence that was entirely Soubi.

Seimei groaned, exerting the pent-up wanton need for the blond he had trapped against the not-quite-plaid, not-quite-checkered rainbow of wallpaper. It had been all of a week and a half since Seimei had last allowed for any sexual activity, and surely now was the hint that he had had enough of waiting.

Pulling away with a soft shudder, Seimei hungrily eyed the blond.

“Soubi.”

Soubi watched and listened intently.

First ensuring they were out of earshot, Seimei ran his hands down Soubi’s lean front. Soubi damned the shirt that prevented those long fingers from touching his skin.

“What would you say if I told you I was ready to lose my ears to you?”

Soubi’s breath caught in his throat.

“S- Seimei…”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” which would explain why Seimei hadn’t so much as touched Soubi in the past few days, “and I’m sure now.”

Moist lips moved over Soubi’s own again, ghosting a kiss, while Soubi’s tentative fingers gripped Seimei’s back to keep himself standing.

“I want to take you, Soubi,” Seimei murmured in a heated, lustful tone while he moved up against his prey. “I want to have my way with you. Tonight.”

Blue eyes dared to glance into violet ones, and that predatory glaze in Seimei’s visage both repelled and attracted the blond all at once, creating a deliciously complicated sort of predicament for his suddenly aching libido.

“I suppose I could…” Soubi paused, caressing those gorgeous feline ears nestled atop an unruly raven mane. “I could get Kio out of our place until tomorrow morning.”

Seimei grinned an all-knowing sort of grin, an all-powerful sort of grin, one that those arch-villains in Disney movies so commonly attained when they were sure their plan was going to go through without a hitch.

“Lovely,” said Seimei with a peck of his lips to Soubi’s. “This party should be out in a couple of hours. Once it is, you can go and wait for me at your apartment. Deal?”

How could Soubi refuse?

“Deal.”

It held a morbid sort of promise, but one Soubi had waited for, for what now seemed like ages.

“Good,” Seimei purred, then pulled away, making a trek out into the living room, then out the back door, where he could watch the teenagers more closely.

Soubi waited a few moments until he could pull himself together, calm his racing blood, and only then did he join Seimei outside.

“Ritsuka,” Seimei called his little brother. “Come here, I want you to meet someone.”

The younger Aoyagi glanced over from his position atop one of his classmate’s shoulders. “Alright, hang on a sec!”

The teens were playing Chicken-Fight, Soubi realized. At least ten of them had formed into groups of two, one of whom would perch atop their partner’s shoulders, and then the lot of them would simply try to knock the rest of them over. Soubi vaguely remembered playing this game in his younger years.

“You remember when we were that young?” Seimei questioned his companion as he folded his arms.

Soubi chuckled. “Hardly.”

“What, you were never a reckless teenager?”

“Oh, no, I was,” Soubi protested. “I caused a few riots in my day. Splashed in a few pools.”

“I bet. Someone like you is bound to have had an exciting childhood.”

Soubi only smiled.

Ritsuka found his way over a few minutes later, his hair dripping with chlorinated water, his tail flicking frantically at his side to dry itself. He looked between his brother and Soubi expectantly.

“Ritsuka,” Seimei said, “this is my good friend, Soubi.” He put a particular emphasis on friend that caused a mild tremor in Soubi’s spine.

“Soubi, my little brother, Ritsuka.”

The blond flashed an amiable smile to the younger boy. “A pleasure to meet you, Ritsuka. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Ritsuka hesitated before Seimei nodded in approval.

“Nice to meet you,” Ritsuka said cordially, and with the sort of mannerism hanging over his head that Seimei himself so commonly displayed. Through that likeness, there was also a tangible difference between the two, Soubi noted. But at the same time… a not so tangible difference. There was a differentiation between them, of course. Soubi knew that, he just hadn’t figured out what yet, and it was already beginning to drive him mad.

“Do you guys go to school together or something?” Ritsuka asked as he wrung out his wet hair.

“We have most of the same classes,” said Seimei.

“We met in high school,” Soubi added, “when I was in my first year.”

“Oh,” Ritsuka said with a nod. His violet eyes seemed to concentrate on Soubi then, and Soubi noticed it. Ritsuka’s brow furrowed a little in thought.

Soubi watched the boy warily. Was Ritsuka actually… scrutinizing him? He knew that look from Seimei, and Ritsuka did seem to be analyzing Soubi rather carefully. Almost as though he had seen him before…

“Ritsuka! C’mon, let’s play Chicken-Fight again!” a pink-haired girl called out to Ritsuka from the edge of the pool.

Ritsuka glanced back to his friend, waved, then looked once more to the blond. He smiled amicably. “See ya around, Soubi,” he said with a casual, almost teasing sort of lilt in his tone before he dashed off to the pool again.

“Ritsuka, don’t-”

Seimei went to scold him, but Ritsuka had already done a cannonball into the water.

“-run.”