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Ritsu tests the boundaries with Mao as much as he can.
Mao has always been squeamish, and not like Ritsu is any better when it comes to physical contact unless it's with Mao, even then he subconsciously always tries to get away unless he's sleeping, but there's always been something about Mao that's so jumpy. Even with Ritsu, he still gets jumpy after all this time. Mao has his limits before he pushes Ritsu away.
It's funny, Ritsu can't help but to laugh somehow when it happens, which only makes Mao squirm more, even more shy and embarrassed.
Even when they're alone, even when Mao initiates it. Ritsu can't tell if it's because Mao's just a prude or isn't used to being freely able to touch Ritsu—like that, intimately—after all the years of not being able to, crossing way beyond the boundary of how they spent the majority of their lives as being platonic, as friends.
With the physical aspect of their relationship they’ve gotten a lot closer, physically, learning day by day what they each like, enjoy and need affection-wise. There’s a lot less things to be wary about without Mao minding too much, like kissing and holding hands. But, there’s one barrier that Ritsu can’t seem to break down.
Obvious, even though Mao tries to deny it, he recoils when Ritsu gets close to one spot specifically.
The recollection of the one time he nearly ended up with a broken nose from when he seriously and purposefully tried to kiss Mao's neck isn't brought up unless Ritsu reminds him.
He doesn't think it's because neck kisses are a too grossly affectionate action. Ritsu occasionally tries to sneak them when he's carried on Mao's back and Mao freaks out every time. Mao doesn't really like being affectionate in public as much as Ritsu personally doesn’t mind it, but even when they're alone Mao sets a single line that Ritsu can't cross.
The second Ritsu presses his lips to Mao's neck, he turns into a blushing, trembling mess and cries out for Ritsu to stop. It's cute, so Ritsu doesn't really mind it, and of course he stops the second Mao says the word because he would never push him like that. A boundary that's not broken in his own opinion, but to Mao, its a fear he can't get over. A fear of Ritsu biting him with his fangs.
Ritsu whines and sulks sometimes and claims he would burn into ashes before ever hurting Mao, it's because Mao doesn't trust him, so he doesn't let him. Mao says he's just ticklish, and it's probably true. But, if there's one spot on Mao's entire body that he could pick one as his favorite, it's the neck.
His Maa-kun's neck.
To a vampire, it's naturally the most sacred part of a body of any human, but Ritsu feels like his fixation goes beyond natural instincts. Its always warm. The way it smells, so potent and so much just like Mao when he buries his face into it.
His locks of hair, wine colored and coarse-looking but surprisingly silky soft to the touch, just barely touch the back of it, flipping right above the nape of the soft, tanned skin covered column. He thinks, he wishes he could do that as effortlessly as hair, of all things to be jealous of, as it tickles the tip of his nose when he's close.
It's where he can feel a pulse. It's where the juiciest, throbbing vein is located. It's where the most savory, syrupy blood he can get, like red wine that almost matches the same color as his hair. Blood that wouldn't be visible if those stray locks which feather out from his hairline were ever to be accidentally stained with it.
He knows, and he promised, he won't ever really bite Mao there and it's always just so tempting, but touching is different, it's something he can indulge in without harm.
Sometimes he just presses his fingers to it when Mao’s looking down writing less interesting stuff on paper. Sometimes he catches himself naturally placing his hand there when they kiss, eyes closed while reaching for something to keep him closer, to keep himself grounded. It's where he can feel a steady rhythm the most, a count of each of Maa-kun’s precious heart beats that he can feel on the surface of the skin without pressing down too hard. Sometimes he can even see Mao's pulse jumping beneath the thin skin there.
But when there's lips involved it's a different story, even though Ritsu's would leave a softer touch than his fingers.
Mao always tries to get away before Ritsu can ever try, a reflex. A habit of flinching, or maybe it is on purpose and Ritsu truly traumatized him permanently all those years ago when he half-heartedly bit him for the first time—and last time—and it's not an excuse.
It only makes Ritsu want to do it more, like poking a bruise, like doing something you're told not to, he's always had a bit of very subtle rebellion about him when it comes to things like that and when it comes to Mao especially, he can't help himself.
Mao would rather grab Ritsu's hair when they make out, or his shoulders or hold onto his waist other times and it's nice being touched. But for Ritsu, it's always the neck.
That is, until Mao decides that he's going to show Ritsu what it's like.
A soft kiss when they're alone together, secluded in a deserted activity room, quickly turns heavy. Tongues, teeth, and spit and lips, its hard to tell who's is who's, even though Ritsu notices how Mao's can be just so soft and kissable against his. He's leaning Ritsu up against the wall, body pressing against his to trap him in. When Mao wants to kiss him he always makes sure to do it properly, just like everything else he does, but it makes Ritsu's heart pound when he does it for him. One of Mao's hands grip both of Ritsu's wrists and pin them above his head.
Mao breaks the kiss while Ritsu wishes he didn't, always being greedy and wanting more of Mao. The other hand tilts Ritsu's head up by his chin with a thumb.
Ritsu tenses up. Mao stops moving and looks him in the eyes, a steel look that doesn't reflect like the regular emerald and yellow greens do. Something else that's not so warm, overpowering and dark consumes within them.
Ritsu kind of wants to flinch, kind of wants to easily give in and lean into Mao more. Before he can make his choice, Mao moves his head forward, dropping to breathe over an exposed collarbone. Ritsu's adrenaline starts pumping immediately from just the ghost of a feeling, his head trying to pull back even more even tho the wall is stopping him from doing so. Mao grips his wrists tighter and Ritsu feels a single chill dance up his spine, expanding to each bone of his rib cage like a xylophone.
Nerves thrumming, somehow already this worked up. His exhale is uncharacteristically shaky. He breathes faster, beginning to panic in Mao's firm hold. Mao looks at him, with his now normal facial expression, gaze softening, silently questioning, overly concerned. Ritsu doesn't mean to, but let's out a exaggerated sigh—cutting it close to a moan, involuntary and embarrassing—at the way Mao looks at him.
"What?" Mao ducks his head closer, hands wrapping around Ritsu's waist. Ritsu doesn't mean to tense up but Mao's breathing on his neck is doing things to his heart rate.
"If you want me to stop—"
"That's not..."
Does he want Mao to stop? No, he really doesn't. He kind of wants to plead Mao to keep going and keep doing whatever he was doing before instead of talking.
"Then... What are you afraid of, Ritsu?"
Ritsu guesses that his own expression betrays him by giving him away, he didn't even know he's afraid until Mao points it out.
He's not afraid of Mao or of anything Mao could ever do to him, he trusts Mao with his life. He guesses, he's afraid of just how much Mao makes him feel. How much he makes him feel alive, and such vibrant emotions all at once he can't even describe them all. Mao ducks his head back into the crook, Ritsu is grateful that he doesn't tease or say anything about it, like he would if Mao were to do that, smiles against the skin on Ritsu's neck.
"Ritsuuuu.~"
A languid drawl, a dangerous, needy tone. Warm teeth playfully scrape the thin skin over muscle, a throat, an artery. Ritsu starts trembling, whole body enflamed in a rush. Ah, he seems to understand why Mao tends to shy away from this. Ritsu can't answer back, mouth dry, he can feel his face redden, maybe even the tips of his ears too.
Mao presses his lips to his neck, slowly and softly, feathering, Ritsu counts, he kisses five times. Each kiss has him gasping and his eyes fluttering shut.
It’s quite embarrassing, how good he feels. He realizes right at that moment—he was never afraid in the first place. He feels... He's vulnerable. Vulnerable is how he feels, his neck exposed like this.
He would never allow himself to be like this with just anyone.
It's not really fear but anticipation. He's not afraid to give himself to Mao, they both know that Ritsu means what he says, that he would do anything for him.
But whether or not Mao knows the extent of what Ritsu would do for him, Mao could sink his blunt teeth in and Ritsu wouldn't care. Mao could rip his flesh open, take his time with it, and tear him apart and he still wouldn't care. Mao could make Ritsu his, a ritualistic thing,
Ritsu feels it fueled by carnal desire. He wishes Mao would rip him open, shred him to pieces. Expose every ounce of whatever Ritsu can offer him, and Mao can take it if he wants. Not even in a masochistic way, he's not like that, he's more sadistic than anything, but for Mao, he would—
Mao is gentle, such a sweet and caring boy by nature and would never. Even when he’s being rougher than normal, a heat swelling in the air, Ritsu can't ignore the certain familiar, sentimental warmness he feels deep within his chest.
Mao latches on more and more to each spot, moving lower from underneath his jawline, he sucks hard, tongue lapping and trailing down, farther down the column. He feels his neck throb, a wet spot left in its wake. A hickey. Several hickies, actual love bites. Ritsu melts against the wall eyes squeezing shut tight as Mao claims him as his own. Mao's hand threads and grips the back of Ritsu's hair and he tips his head back. Ritsu feels his knees buckle for a moment, before regaining stability. It's amazing, he thinks, to be able to feel like this because of a human, from something as simple but so intimate as neck kisses.
Mao pulls back, bright eyes, blush barely dusted over his cheekbones, lips swollen, a pretty pout. His eyes fall to the pale column of Ritsu’s neck with a curious expression.
At that look, Ritsu feels it igniting throughout his veins.
Possession, a craving that he can't control sometimes, and right now, Mao is only his.
Returning the favor, he quickly overpowers Mao. Holding his head and the side of his face and pulling him closer, Mao startles and flinches. Ritsu isn't going to pull away this time. He wants Mao to feel it too.
Ritsu licks up the side of his neck, tongue hot against even hotter skin.
"R-Ritsu! Ah—"
“Maa-kun, please, let me.”
Ritsu braces himself for Mao pulling away, or pushing him away, or Mao just punching him in the face, anything, he doesn't expect Mao to tilt his head up, chin pointed to the ceiling. An offering that Ritsu can't give up and he gladly takes it.
Ritsu kisses his neck as gently as he did, exceptionally mindful of his teeth, he copies Mao's actions. Mao twitches and fidgets a bit, which he expected, so Ritsu holds him closer. He presses his lips to one spot, opens his mouth a little and sucks hard on the skin there.
“Mm..mmm—“ He doesn’t mean to make a desperate sounding noise, but he can’t help it from the taste of Mao’s skin, it’s even enough to make him lightheaded. Ritsu can’t even begin to imagine what it would taste like if he just sunk his fangs into that same spot, the same tender skin...
But he won’t. Mao was nice to him, so he’s gotta do the same. After he’s sure that he’s left a mark, he places one last soft kiss to his skin before pulling away.
“Was it ok?”
As soon as Ritsu pulls away a little bit, Mao’s hand immediately touches his own neck, and he gasps. He glances at Ritsu’s neck and Ritsu guesses his own neck is even more marked up than Mao’s from the way he sighs.
"Geez....those are gonna be there for a while, aren't they."
He's talking about the bruises on his neck, which Ritsu can feel even more now as reaches up to touch them and they're sore. He smiles as his fingertips trace over them, knowing Mao really went all out like that.
"I overdid it," Mao steals a quick kiss from his lips. "And you look like a wreck now.~"
"Well, you don't look too good yourself~." Ritsu mumbles under his breath, still trying to properly catch his breath and not having the willpower to properly tease him back, he doesn’t mean it. Mao actually looks really good right now, his face blushing, eyes gleaming, lips more swollen and pouty than normal—
Mao’s phone suddenly vibrates loudly within his pocket in such a quiet room, and then seconds later, the warning bells for class go off in the hallway, what kind of timing...
Mao backs up from him immediately, acting just like nothing happened a moment ago, readjusting his shirt that became undone in the process. Well, there goes Ritsu asking him if he wants to continue this in a bathroom stall somewhere. But he supposes this was enough fun for one afternoon, he pushed Mao’s boundaries enough for one day.
"Well, I’m sure I’ll be the one covering those up with concealer every morning—so whatever.~"
Mao looks like he forgot something, before he starts digging through his bag on the ground, frantically searching. "Shit—My makeup is in the practice room and we don't have time to get it. You have yours?"
Ritsu shakes his head. Mao sighs, exasperated, running his fingers through the back of his hair, and pulling at it a little bit.
"Is this good? Is it showing?"
Ritsu shakes his head again. Ritsu made the mark high up enough for it to be hidden by Mao's hair. No fair, whereas Ritsu's, which he can feel sorely on his neck, are closer to the front of his throat, and even though he hasn’t seen them yet, he knows there's multiple bruises.
Mao tosses his hoodie to Ritsu which was previously shoved in his bag, while Ritsu slides in over his vest, "This isn't good... Wear this for now, the hood will cover them and one of us has to find Narukami, probably has some kind of good makeup we can borrow." He’s right, this isn't good when they still have half the school day to get through.
Mao leaves the room first to avoid suspicions, ruffling Ritsu’s hair before leaving and kissing his cheek, leaving a bit of his warmth with Ritsu.
Ritsu waits a little while, about to text Mao and tell him to leave him here, he can just lay down and take a nap here, in an empty activity room. Mao's hoodie is so comfy but decides he doesn't wanna listen to Mao whine about it later. He can sleep in class, he’s better off daydreaming about Mao while he's close.
He strides back to class, he doesn’t care about if the marks are showing or not, he had decent makeup in his bag but Mao didn’t need to know that. He wears Mao’s hoodie, the longer back of his hair tucked within the hood, all the more exposing his neck. The marks he wears proudly, the claim Mao has made of him, visible so everyone can see. So everyone can know, Ritsu is his.
Everyone’s eyes are on him the second he walks back into the classroom, like they’ve been waiting for him. Shit—
“Sakuma Ritsu. What happened to your neck.” A stern voice that’s not a question, it’s a demand, of course Akiomi sensei would be the first to notice. Ritsu is removed from his content, post-affection bubble and he needs to think of an excuse, fast.
He tries to explain it was an accident, mumbling, something about being attacked by a squirrel. Not his best strategy, but at least it isn't technically a lie.
“You know, I’m not stupid, and you know those go against both uniform policy and idol policy, if you have them, don’t let them be seen. After class. Detention.”
Ritsu groans, well, it was kind of worth it to hear Mao whine “Damnit, Ritsuuuuu~” from all the way across the room, Naruchan snickering.
“Isara-kun, I’m guessing you want one too?” Akiomi threatens at his outburst.
Ritsu can read his eyes from across the room as Mao hastily nods. Mao is guilty, thinking, it was his fault in the first place. Ah, well, Ritsu will be able to make sure to remind him it was all his fault, such an upstanding student misbehaving on school hours and being punished. He’ll definitely remind him, when they're alone together in the detention room later.
