The Art Project

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Loveless. Yun Kouga does. I am just a happy fan writing a dirty fanfic that has lots of foreplay and maybe is only foreplay? I don't know, I haven't finished writing it yet. But the S&M will come later, and maybe bondage stuff and spanking...

I wanted to make the summary better, but it's hard to write in 240 or less words! This idea had been floating around in my head for a while and I just had to write it!

Thanks for reading!! :D

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THE ART PROJECT
by lordoberon

Chapter One


Ritsuka was so nervous. His hands shook as he slid the book from the library shelf. He was standing on his tiptoes just to reach it. It made a loud clunk as it fell to the floor, and he looked around hastily to make sure no one had seen him with it. No one around. Whew!

He picked up the book like it was on fire, barely letting the brown soft cover touch his fingers. Like a cat he crept along, pausing behind pillars. His breath was harsh in his throat, his heart pumped wildly. He crawled and ducked around, and finally reached the shadowed table in the corner. Here. Here was where he could secretly read.

Slowly he opened the book, and even though the book made him nervous, the smell of the pages comforted him. Ah, that smell. It was sweet and sour at the same time. Even though the book was, well...THIS book, its pages smelt wonderful.

He flipped to the Table of Contents page, and when he saw the words, he squeaked and snapped the book shut. There it was. That chapter. Oh, but all the chapters were...enticing. They snagged him. He had only been looking into drawing classes, because Kio had told Ritsuka about the drawing project Soubi was working on, and how busy Soubi was lately. When Ritsuka had asked, Soubi had said he was almost done, and planned to start another one soon. He said he hadn't found a subject yet. When Ritsuka asked what that meant, Soubi said simply, "I draw people. It's a way of making memories."

And Ritsuka realized, well, if Soubi drew him, then Soubi would remember him. Not that he ever thought Soubi would forget him, or at least he hoped not, but...he wanted to be closer to Soubi. He wanted to make Soubi smile for a new reason. When Soubi bent down to kiss him, or stood close to him and Ritsuka caught a whiff of that scent in Soubi's hair...Ritsuka blushed madly and felt vulnerable, but could see the amusement in Soubi's eyes. His blushing pleased Soubi, he realized. At first upon realizing it he had been indignant, but then he had come to terms with it.

He wanted to please Soubi more. And what better way to do this, then allow Soubi this intimate thing of drawing him? Intimate. That word made him nervous, but also excited. He wanted there to be something intimate between him and Soubi.

Plus, what if it were fun to be drawn? Especially by Soubi. He had never seen Soubi draw before, and knew it was an important aspect of Soubi; the way Kio spoke of Soubi's art made Ritsuka eager to see Soubi draw.

Then he had started looking up Composition classes stuff, to research Soubi's drawing class. He had been curious what it was like to make memories via drawing instead of photography. He had discovered that people posed for hours, and was shocked. How could he sit for three hours while Soubi drew him? It would be impossible. But then he thought, well, maybe Soubi will talk to me while he
draws. Or even not talking...if I can just look at Soubi, that will be enough.

Ritsuka did not let on, but just the sight of Soubi was fascinating. The way his long hair fell across his shoulders, and glowed in the sunlight. The glint of his eyes when he smirked at Ritsuka, and the way that mouth looked so soft. It WAS soft. Ritsuka remembered thinking about it one time during a kiss, and when Soubi had pulled away he had asked Ritsuka, "Why are you blushing so much? You're redder than usual today." And Ritsuka had shook his head furiously.

He couldn't tell Soubi that he loved Soubi's lips, and the way his hips and a strip of white skin showed when Soubi wore low-slung jeans.

Then Ritsuka had seen pictures in the books he was using for his research. And he had realized...Soubi draws naked people. At first, he was horrified. Then, as he read more, as he looked more, he realized...this could be something special.

A way of really getting to know a person. Because you began to focus not on the nudity, but on the details of the body. The way the hair fell across shoulders...the curves, the limbs, the shadows. Ritsuka had wished for a moment, desperately, that he could draw.

And now here he sat, with this book about love in his hands...this book about enticing another person. But Ritsuka knew that Soubi found him enticing. Just the thought made him blush and shiver. When Soubi had brushed his fingers against the back of Ritsuka's neck once, to check a wound, Ritsuka had shivered and pulled away. The feel of Soubi's fingers on him was...intoxicating. It made a warmth bubble in him, and this strange sharpness that was simultaneously good and bad. Whenever he got that feeling, he panicked and pulled away.

Why was he holding this book? Because he had decided. He wanted Soubi to draw him, to draw him properly, and he felt this needed preparation.


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Soubi's POV
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"He wants you to draw him?"

"Yes. Why so surprised, Kio? You've suggested it yourself before, even. Or I mentioned it. I remember mentioning it."

Soubi smiled at his friend as the bespectacled man frowned. "Yes, Soubi, but what's the point? I mean, you can't do your project on him, Soubi. It's not like in class. This is RITSUKA we're talking about, Soubi, not a model. Besides, he'll be clothed. He'll get bored. He won't be able to sit for that long, or stand. It's different. It's Ritsuka."

The two men stood in Soubi's apartment, one sitting on the chair while the stood by the window and smoked.

"I know, Kio. That's why it's special. Maybe I can get the professor to make an exception, this one time. If I do well enough."

Kio rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe. Anyways, I've got to go start mine, so I'll see you later. Good look. Have fun. Try not to have TOO much fun." He raised his eyebrows meaningfully, muttering, "Pervert."

Soubi was in too good a mood to mind. He laughed, instead of the usual smile.

The day was good. He had been surprised when Ritsuka had shyly asked him one day, if Soubi would like to draw him. Those ears had twitched around hurriedly, and the little face blushed brilliant pink. Soubi had smiled, saying gently, "Of course I would, Ritsuka. It would be excellent practice for me, and it would be quite fun. Are you sure you want to?"

Ritsuka had nodded fiercely. As he looked up at Soubi, there had been something in his eyes. Determination. Fierceness. Like if Soubi had suggested the opposite, Ritsuka would have fought for it. Ritsuka wanted to be drawn, and Soubi could not really understand why. Perhaps, he mused, it was because of what he had said about drawing being another way of making memories. The boy wanted him to keep a memory of him. How sweet. Soubi quite liked the concept, really.

He would love to pin up an image of Ritsuka in his studio to study. As long as he didn't get carried away with it...No, no, don't go there, he told himself. Ritsuka will arrive soon.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. Soubi opened the door to see the boy standing, waiting. He smiled at Soubi. Gently Soubi took his wrist and the boy walked in, shutting the door behind him. The room was warm, and a kettle sat on the stove ready to make tea with.

"I'll make us some tea. The room is down there, down the hall and to the right. I have all my utensils ready already, and the couch. You can sit or lie down, whatever you want. We can drink tea first, though. Hungry?"

Ritsuka shook his head. Soubi watched the boy head down the hall, and then set about making tea.

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Ritsuka's POV
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He was trembling with nerves. What to do? Was he really going to do this? What if Soubi reacted badly? Surely, he WOULD react badly? What would Ritsuka do if Soubi DIDN'T react badly? What if this led to no ears? what if it led to an argument? What if he just asked Soubi to draw him and ask no questions? He could always order him.

Ritsuka dropped his bag by the couch and looked around.

The studio was a big room, nice and light. Various canvases sat leaned up against the wall, dusty, or covered with sheets. Some of Soubi's paintings, on Kio's insistence, were on the walls. Ritsuka walked from one to the other, looking at the butterflies, the garden scenes, the flowers. Where were the people? Oh, but Soubi's pieces were beautiful. Ritsuka had no doubt Soubi would draw him carefully.

It wasn't that which had made him refuse food, though. It was the queasy feeling in his stomach. He was going to do this, yes he was. He wanted to. It was a weird and fierce feeling, motivated from Ritsuka's need to get closer to Soubi. He wanted to really know the man, and for the man to really know him. He wanted Soubi to know how special he was to Ritsuka. Ritsuka wouldn't be this brave for anyone else.

Slowly, Ritsuka unbuttoned his shirt, one, two, three. He let it drop to the floor, and then looked around. How should he pose? Should he stand? Or maybe sitting was better, since this was going to take hours. Or lie down? The couch was long enough, after all. And it looked comfy. Oh, there was a chair in the corner, too.

Ritsuka sat down on the couch, and as he did so, his fingers slid down to grab his belt. He slid the buckle through, glancing at the door nervously. What if Soubi came in too early and saw Ritsuka like this? That would make it impossible. Hurriedly, trying to blank all thoughts from his mind and ignore the queasiness in his stomch, Ritsuka scrambled to finish.

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Soubi's POV

Soubi hummed a little tune as he walked down the hallway. This would be interesting. They had never done anything like this before. He found he was quite eager as he walked down the hall. He couldn't wait to see how Ritsuka would pose, even though the boy probably had no idea he should pose. Soubi would make it quick, because he doubted Ritsuka could stay in the same position for hours on end. Even if given breaks, as models always were.

He looked forward to drawing Ritsuka. It gave him an excuse to stare without feeling guilty or having Ritsuka find out. Here, Ritsuka was well informed and was allowing Soubi to stare, to indulge. Ritsuka did not know how much he was indulging Soubi. Soubi would have an excuse to admire the slender neck, the furry tail, those full pouty lips, those big purple eyes, the slope of the jawline and curve of that perky ass...Shit! Don't go there.

Soubi had had to force his eyes away from there several times, especially when the boy swished his tail madly. He hoped this drawing would be a pleasure and not an ordeal, in which he would have to resist, resist, resist. He was excellent at disciplining himself, but it was harder to do that when Ritsuka was around.

He turned the corner, holding the china with tea delicately in his hands. Slowly he placed the tray down on the table by the door -he'd have to move that by the couch, since the big space he had left for his drawing paper and Ritsuka was not needed just yet. The china clinked, and he heard a feathery breath from Ritsuka.

What was that all about? Hmm.

Soubi turned around, and promptly dropped his hand down to slam on the table to catch himself from falling. He felt the heat of the tea burn his pinky finger. And a twinge slid up his wrist from the abrupt twist it had taken. He felt himself shaking, and took a couple breaths to calm himself. Calm, calm, he told himself. Slowly he counted, and at first he couldn't even remember where to start, what numbers were and which came first, but he regained his sense as the seconds passed. By the time he was at eight he had caught his breath back.

Holy hell and devils and angels and everything in-between.

Ritsuka was naked. Nude. The word flew through Soubi's head around and around in circles as he stared, his eyes wide behind the glasses.

Ritsuka stood in the center of the room, in front of the couch. His hair hung over his face, covering his eyes a little, but Soubi could see the red blush bathing those cheeks. The boy was biting his bottom lip so hard that it was flaring pink and swollen. His hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides, and the muscles of his arms jumped with tension.

The boy had his chin tucked down, and Soubi could see beneath it the sharp jut of the collarbone, the soft sweep of shoulders not yet broad, never to be very broad. The boy's nipples were rosy and pink, erect in the chill of the room. He had freckles here and there, on a thigh, a couple on his arms, and some on his belly. His navel was deep, and below it the dark hair looked so soft. It curled a little. The boy wasn't twelve anymore, he was fourteen now.

As Ritsuka fidgeted, Soubi saw the boy from different angles. His eyes fixed on the soft, round buttocks a moment, on the smooth-looking skin. He wanted to grab it, grope it, press it, brush his fingertips against it. The boy's thighs were more muscular than Soubi had thought they would be, probably from running in PE class or perhaps from his mother. Yes, there were scars - indentations and gashes on his body, welts and bruises and nail scrapes. The boy's body was slender and soft-looking, delightful with the beauty of youth. His cock...Soubi took a deep breath. Long and smooth. Those knees were scuffed, callused, and the toes twitched, as did the tail and cat ears. The cat ears were in a frenzy on Ritsuka's head, swiveling back and forth.

Seeing Soubi stunned into silence, or thinking, Ritsuka said, "I'm ready to be drawn."

Soubi could not think. All he could do was stare. And stare. And stare. He could not get enough. This, he thought, is the image I will masturbate to for the rest of my days.

"Soubi...how should I pose?" The boy's voice was hoarse with nervousness. "I know this is boring, so I won't stick like this...should I sit?" He walked over to take the chair and placed it before him. He sat on it. Then, after a moment, he said, "No. It's uncomfortable."

The chair was moved, and the boy plopped down on the couch. "Um...how about this?" He stretched his legs out, and sat crosslegged, and then frowned. "No, that's not like in the books," Soubi heard him mutter.

Ritsuka leaned back against the plush couch, making it sigh dustily with his small weight. He pushed his back into it, Soubi could see. Those arms reached up above his head, the elbows bent, the hands gently resting on top of the couch. Ritsuka let his left leg hang over the couch, but bent his right.

Soubi almost groaned aloud at the sight. This was a sexy pose. One leg bent, one not, that cock on display between those smooth thighs, the little curls of hair dark and cheerful against Ritsuka's pale skin. The boy was allowing his chest to be shown, the curve of his stomach, the pectorals, those luscious pink nipples. His arms above his head were graceful, slender. The face gentle, open, frightened. That mouth was half open, and Soubi wanted to kiss it, to press against those soft pink lips, to hear Ritsuka moan, to slide his tongue in Ritsuka's mouth...

Finally, Soubi found his voice. He pulled himself back together, slowly, slowly. He looked out the window, and walked to close it, trying for a moment to forget that Ritsuka sat naked on his couch. Fucking naked on his couch! Jesus. He pulled the curtains closed more, so just enough light shone through. It felt silly now, for him to have lost his composure. He usually dealt with everything straight-faced. He hoped he hadn't scared Ritsuka by being so obviously shocked.

The tea he found, when he took a sip of it, was nice. For a moment he thought, I should talk about the tea. But then he realized he didn't want to.

"Ritsuka." His voice was hoarse with desire. Soubi cleared his throat, and tried again.

"Ritsuka. What made you decide to be...like this?" He gestured towards Ritsuka's naked form, and the clothes pushed aside.

That bottom lip trembled and those toes twitched again, but Ritsuka did not move from his pose. His voice tremored as he said, "I...I looked it up. In books. About drawing classes, and modeling. I want you to be able to make a memory of me that is like no one else's memory of me, Soubi. I want to be special to you, to show you...what no else can see. And I, I don't just mean, uh..." His cheeks flared red again. "Me. I mean...I, I want to...I want to show you...everything. No secrets. I want there to be an intimate connection between us."

Soubi cautiously moved forward, and sat down on the floor to fiddle with the drawing things. "Yes. I understand, Ritsuka. But we already have one, Ritsuka. I have no one like you. You are my Loveless. You are Ritsuka. You are special to me. I love you..." He whispered the words soft and slow.

"But you don't have to do this. I can...I can wait." He was tense. This was the first time Ritsuka and he were really, openly edging towards the topic of waiting to take Ritsuka's ears. Waiting to do more than kiss. Waiting.

"Ritsuka...I can see that this makes you uncomfortable. I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I am your Fighter, Ritsuka. Yours. You don't have to oblige me anything. Please. Besides...nothing is lacking from what we already have. Nothing. I promise."

He looked deep into the boy's eyes, making sure his point got through. The boy nodded, gulping. He understood. What they had was good. It needed no improving, right? Although Ritsuka would still complain to Soubi about Soubi being secretive. And now that Ritsuka was fourteen, well, Soubi had seen girls approach Ritsuka, recently. But he had opted to say nothing about it. He could not think of what to say. He had been busy too, lately, working on art projects, and had not seen Ritsuka in a while.

What did Ritsuka want? What was lacking that made him so insistently want this, to go this far? To appear naked before Soubi? To look up things about drawing and know that models were naked usually?

"Soubi...I...get these strange feelings, sometimes. Feeling. I..." the boy's breath was hitched, and Soubi closed his eyes so that he could not see Ritsuka naked AND hear his hitched breath. The combination was too much. He felt his body heat up, and closed his eyes shut tighter as if doing so would ward against desire.

"I...look....at things...differently. No. No, not things. Just you. Everyone else is still the same. But when I look at you...I...find it hard to look away! I want...I want to be close to you...in a way that I don't want to be close to anyone else." The boy's voice was a whisper now.

"I tried to talk to the psychiatrist about it...without telling her too much. And she said, that I should talk to you about it. That I should tell you...how I feel. How I feel is, when I'm trying to sleep at night, I feel...I think of you. And I dream of you. And I want...want t-to touch you, Soubi. I'm curious. And I tried, but I can't make the feeling go away..."

The boy was trembling. He had stopped his pose, and now sat with his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, his chin propped on his knees. He looked vulnerable and scared.

Soubi did not know if he dared stand up and hug the boy, embrace him, comfort him. Would it be too much? For either of them? He thought about what Ritsuka had said, and his heart leapt into his throat. This sounded like desire. But it was confused desire...it was a young boy's curiousity, mixed with affection, and...something else. He also found what Ritsuka had said very sweet and endearing. It was comforting and a relief to know that he meant so much to the boy, but also frightening. He didn't want Ritsuka to have the stress of making such a big decision. Though, maybe this was nothing, and really was just an art project in the making.

He stood up, paintbrush still in his hand (he was considering adding some color as a backdrop to Ritsuka in pencil), and came to stand in front of Ritsuka. Bending down before the boy, he said, "I wish to please you, Ritsuka. I...I won't deny that, I feel certain things for you too, things I cannot for others. Order me as you wish."

"But what about the...t-touching...p-part? What do you think about that?"

Soubi could see that the boy really wanted an answer. A real answer, not something like he had just given.

He leaned over and pressed a tiny kiss to the boy's lips and then pulled back.

Smiling, to make the boy feel better and becase he realized suddenly he was happy, Soubi said, "I don't think there's anything wrong with it. I find it quite...titillating, to be honest. I......you can touch me."

Can I touch you? Should I? That was the unspoken question in Soubi's head. As the boy took Soubi's face in his hands and pulled the man down for a kiss, Soubi found it was quite impossible NOT to touch the boy.

He placed his hands over Ritsuka's thin shoulders, pressing his mouth hard against the boy's soft lips. He found it elicited a moan. Oh, god. That moan. He opened his mouth against the boy's mouth, feeling the hot puffs come from Ritsuka's mouth into his. Slowly he slid his tongue along that full, swollen bottom lip, and then edged it into Ritsuka's mouth.

He dragged his tongue slowly along the boy's teeth, and then glided it against Ritsuka's tongue. The boy jumped at the touch. Soubi's hands slid upwards, his fingers pressing against Ritsuka's neck, and then moving to rub against the soft lobes of Ritsuka's ears. As he rubbed them with one hand, his other inched down Ritsuka's chest. His tongue thrusted harder into Ritsuka's mouth, and the boy groaned loudly.

They had never kissed like this before, but it seemed so natural. Soubi reluctantly pulled away from it, and stood back up.

Ritsuka smiled shyly at him, and patted the couch. "Sit, Soubi."

Soubi sat, and the boy scrambled into his lap. Soubi hoped the boy was not paying too much attention, else he would feel the heat in Soubi's lap. Soubi dragged his fingers through that dark, soft hair, smiling as the cat ears twitched. Then he bent and slid his tongue down across Ritsuka's jaw, feeling the smooth skin.

The boy yelped as Soubi's hot, wet tongue slid over his ear lobe. Then Soubi sucked it in his mouth, running his teeth along it experimentally. Ritsuka was purring like a cat now, and his body arched towards Soubi's touch. The boy made little moans and whimpers as Soubi trailed his mouth down the boy's neck, sucking to make welts against the skin, sucking until the skin flared red.

He brushed his hands over the boy's chest, smirking as the boy shuddered. The nipples he rolled hard and slow, then fast, his thumbs over them, pressing. Ritsuka was breathing fast now.

Soubi bent his head and licked over a nipple, once, twice. Ritsuka's voice came out a soft whimper. "Soubi..."

Then Soubi was lapping, lapping over and over, hard, and when he began to suck those hard nipples, Ritsuka was bouncing against him, his fingernails digging into Soubi's back. Soubi found he liked that touch, those nails scraping, and sucked even more eagerly. The boy's bouncing over his rising cock did not help matters.

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More coming soon! :D Please review! I love reviews! Also this fic isn't done, so reviews will help give me ideas and enthusiasm to keep writing!
-lordoberon