Eyo, okay so I promise there is only one chapter left and it's honestly just a cut-scene to a few years after this so more of an epilogue after Malik finally worked through what he needed to. I really hope you guys enjoy.

CW: Sex (praise kink, rimming, anal, slight accidental overstimulation, bondage, vibrator), intrusive thoughts, depictions of murder (Malik's father), child abuse (physical and emotional).

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"Start?" Ryou laughed, but it turned to a moan too quickly as Malik leaned down to bite his throat. "Fuck!" His hips bucked, and he looped his cuffed wrists around Malik's neck. "Harder!" Malik obliged eagerly, sucking dark bruises onto Ryou's skin where the last batch had only just faded. He gave Ryou's collar bones the same treatment as Ryou squirmed beneath him, then dragged his tongue over Ryou's nipples around the clamps until the latter was panting for breath.

"Please!"

"Please?" Malik prompted. "Please what?"

"I need-" Ryou whined as Malik turned the vibrations up. "I need more!"

"Already?" Malik cupped Ryou's face and traced his lips with his thumb. Ryou's lips parted and he dragged his tongue along Malik's thumb. Malik muttered a curse as his partner's lips wrapped around it, sucking it. "Well, I suppose you have been a good boy for me, even if you were impatient." Ryou's cheeks burned and his gaze flickered away, and Malik caught his chin. "Do you like that? Being a good boy for me?"

Ryou swallowed around Malik's thumb before releasing it with a soft pop. "I- maybe?"

A praise kink. Malik could work with that. "Well good boys do get rewards." He grabbed the lube from his bedside table. "Can you get on your knees for me, baby?"

Ryou obliged, rolling onto his stomach. He groaned as the rougher fabric of the duvet brushed his nipples, but he raised onto his knees and rested his head on his cuffed wrists, glancing back at Malik.

Malik smiled and knelt on the bed himself, gripping Ryou's ass and kneading it. Ryou hummed, pushing back into his hands. He had planned on just prepping Ryou, but this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

The first drag of his tongue against Ryou's ass caused a yelp, and the second one, a long whine.

"M-Malik," Ryou groaned, thrusting his ass back.

Malik hummed and blew cold air over it, and Ryou's asshole twitched. He waited until he heard another soft whine before beginning in earnest, lashing his tongue against Ryou's ass.

"Fuck!" Ryou buried his face in the blanket, sharp cries torn from his throat as Malik's tongue fluttered against his hole. "Please, don't stop, oh gods!"

Who was Malik to deny such a sweet plea? He turned the vibrator up again and Ryou clutched the blankets, legs shaking as Malik alternated between long, broad licks and quick glances of his tongue over the sensitive skin.

He carefully squeezed the lube into his hand as he worked, slicking his fingers, so by the time he pulled back, Ryou only had a second of relief before he slipped a finger into his ass.

"Fuck, yes!" Ryou thrust his hips back.

"Didn't I promise I'd give you what you need?" Malik rubbed the arch of Ryou's back as he added a second finger.

"Mm!" Ryou bit his lip, hard, and Malik applied a little more pressure to his back.

"What did I say about hiding?"

Ryou turned his head to the side and released his lip, a low moan escaping him.

"Much better." Malik eased up, returning to rubbing Ryou's back. "So good for me." He eased in a third finger, scissoring them open.

"Fuck, mm, I'm ready," Ryou insisted, voice heavy and breathy.

"I don't think so. Not yet." Malik only turned the vibrator higher, fucking his fingers faster. He was only teasing at this stage, drawing it out, so at Ryou's next plea, he slipped his fingers out, only taking enough time to lube his dick and clean his hand, and then he was gripping Ryou's hips and easing into him.

Ryou moaned, pressing his hips back. "Fuck, yes," he sighed. "Oh, gods, more."

Malik pulled back, thrusting back into Ryou slow and easy.

"More!"

Faster this time, still careful not to go too hard.

"Fuck, Malik, more!"

Screw it. He gripped Ryou's hips firmly and slammed his hips forward.

Ryou arched off the bed like a cat, mouth hanging wide open as he shouted Malik's name to the glimmering ceiling. "Yes! Malik, yes! Please!"

"That's it." Malik reached forward, tangling his fingers in Ryou's hair and pulling. "Sing for me."

Broken, high-pitched moans escaped Ryou, as he fucked himself back on Malik's cock, the chain at his chest swinging to clink against the links on his cuffs with each thrust. Malik reached to the side and twisted the vibrator up to its highest setting and Ryou sobbed, clenching around him like a vice. Malik swore, thrusting faster.

"T- fuck, too much!"

"Is it?" Malik murmured. Ryou whined. "Tell me again and I'll turn it off."

Ryou gritted his teeth, legs shaking. "M-Mal- I- I need- I need-"

Malik pulled out of Ryou, leaving him breathless. "Turn over." Ryou glanced back, face flushed, eyes wide, brows pulled up into an adorable mix of horniness and confusion. "I want to see your face."

Ryou's cheeks only flushed brighter as he twisted onto his back. Malik hooked Ryou's legs over his elbows, one either side, and slammed back into him, setting up a rough, fast pace.

Ryou's eyes slammed shut. "Oh, fuck, there! Right there!"

Malik dropped to bite his throat again and Ryou clutched his back.

"More! Please, please- fuck, Malik!"

Malik groaned against his throat. "Fuck, Ry," he gasped. "You feel so good."

"I- I-" Ryou bit his lip hard, hitching his hips to meet Malik's thrusts. "K- kiss me-" Malik obliged, pressing their lips together. They broke every few seconds for air or from the rhythm, but kept returning to their kiss, desperate passes of their lips and tongue as they moaned into one another's mouths.

"Shit," Malik gasped. "I-I'm-"

Ryou nodded, wrapping his legs around Malik's waist. "Me too," he said. "Please, Mal-"

Malik's lips quirked up as he realised. "You want me to cum inside you?"

Ryou whined, nodding, eyes half-closed. "Please."

"Fuck, Ryou." Malik's thrusts sped up, haphazard, but he slipped a hand between them to rub Ryou's clit in quick circles. "You want me to fill you up? To feel me inside you even when we're done?"

"Gods, yes," Ryou moaned. "Mal- Plea- fuck- I- I-"

He clenched around Malik, and Malik fell over the edge, slamming into Ryou as the other tensed, cumming with each other's names on their lips.

Malik pressed a soft kiss to Ryou's lips as they caught their breath, until Ryou squirmed from overstimulation. "Mal- Mal, the vibe-"

"Shit, sorry." Malik reached over, slipping out of Ryou in the process, and turned off the vibrator before pulling it out by the silicone string.

Ryou sighed and reached up, carefully taking off the clamps. He settled back, a soft smile on his face as he relaxed into the blanket. "Fuck. I wasn't expecting that."

Malik chuckled and reached up, uncuffing Ryou's wrists and rubbing them softly, just in case he'd fastened them too tight. "I take it everything was okay?"

"More than okay. That was really hot." Ryou leaned up to steal a kiss. "But now I need to go clean up."

Malik smiled and returned the kiss. "I'll change the cover. Take your time."

Ryou nodded and slipped off the bed, walking with slightly shaky legs to the bathroom. Malik carefully put the clamps and cuffs away before dropping the vibe into a box by the bathroom. He'd clean it in the morning. He then quickly exchanged the duvet for another one he'd already made up that morning, just in case. By the time Ryou returned, he was tossing a wet wipe into the bin.

Ryou brushed his shoulder with a soft hand as he passed and clambered under the covers. "Oh, much better," he decided, snuggling into them.

"I thought so." Malik smiled, joining him in the bed. He turned off the fairy lights, leaving a small salt lamp in the corner on for himself.

Ryou's arms wound around his chest and Malik held him closer, peppering kisses over Ryou's hair.

"I love you," Ryou murmured.

Malik paused, but his smile grew, and he held Ryou closer. "I love you too," he whispered. "So much."

Ryou nuzzled closer to him, shoulders relaxing at the returned affection. "Sleep-" He yawned. "-well."

"You too." Malik let his eyes slip closed, exhaustion and satisfaction weighing them down, ready to slip into pleasant dreams.

Ready, but unable.

He stared at the patterns dancing behind his eyelids as Ryou dropped to sleep, soft snores escaping his boyfriend. He rolled onto his back, after a while, replaying scenes from a movie they'd seen together a few days earlier. He rolled back onto his side, wrapping an arm around Ryou again, as he went through a mental checklist of everything he had to do the next day.

He had to go back to work on the Mesopotamian text, but even though he'd chosen it as a project, the workload was weighing him down and he found himself taking more breaks than usual to escape the archive. Even at the office, when he had meetings, asking Nosaka to reschedule or his brother to fill in on more than one occasion. Gods, he was beginning to hate walking up to the building, the long elevator ride to his office, the swivel chair at his desk that squeaked when he rolled it.

Was he really beginning to hate it? Or was it just a slump? Or, even worse, was he only beginning to realise how much he hated it? How much he'd always hated it?

Of course, he'd hated it as a child, with his father standing between him and Kek at different sides of the table, screaming at them. Kek, trying not to cry as his father refused to feed him again because he had messed up his pronunciation. Malik, trying not to scream as the buckle hit his already-scored back. Rishid, secretly applying antibiotic cream so he wouldn't get infections, late at night when their father was asleep. The cryptic words in a beautiful script on decaying pages, day after day after day.

I love you.

Malik's eyes burned and he squeezed them shut as though it would rid him of both the tears and intrusive thoughts. He didn't want to go back there. He didn't want it. He didn't want any of it. Focus on that.

I love you.

Focus on that instead. On anything instead.

He carefully pulled away from Ryou and sat back against his headboard, trying to breathe.

Kek waking up early with him to see the sun rise through a tiny crack in the curtains over the bathroom mirror. Malik pushing Kek out of the way to stand on the toilet for a better view. Their father refusing them breakfast when he caught them.

Malik whispering correct pronunciations to Kek in the dark of night, from the top to the bottom bunk, to help him practice. Their father slapping him when he found out, because Kek needed to learn on his own.

Malik, a half-hidden memory, sneaking into Isis' room when everyone was asleep, to try on one of her dresses. The first scar he'd ever earned when his father heard the floorboard creak on the way past his room.

Kek, a fever of 104, sobbing in bed for their mother while their father forbade any medications or outside influence. Isis, forced to clean and cook and care for them all like they were her own, on her feet all day while Malik and Kek festered at the table over texts by long-dead authors. Rishid, on his knees, trying to placate Malik and Kek while bruises formed on his face, assuring them he was fine. Malik, snapping at their father to leave Kek alone and earning another scar. Malik, trying to help Isis cook and earning another scar. Malik, trying to see the sunrise again and earning another scar.

Then, Kek, collapsing from lack of food, hitting his head on the table. Bleeding. Rishid, begging to take him to a hospital. Their father, pulling out his belt, and Malik jumping between them. His last scar.

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, breath coming out heavy and shallow. The poker from the fireplace, right beside the table. Malik, reaching for it, back shrieking in protest. Blood cut through the memories, splattered across the rug, as he'd thrown the poker straight through their father's eye.

Their father had screamed, like they all had through the years. Malik grabbed the poker back when their father fell and swung. He'd only gotten one hit in before Rishid grabbed him, holding him back as he swung wildly in the air. Fresh blood pooled from their father's head, but he wasn't screaming anymore.

Isis had been calm, ushering them all to the car and driving straight to the hospital, though she wasn't meant to know how to drive. The police had come, of course, but it was deemed self-defence and Malik hadn't been charged. Kek had healed and they'd gone home, opened all of the curtains. Moved to Japan. Kek moved, Rishid moved. They were both happy. Why couldn't Malik follow them down that path?

Everything. Everything in his life seemed to come back to that bastard. Even six feet in the ground, missing an eye with his skull fractured, everything came back to him and his control over Malik. Control he still had.

He couldn't even be free his dead, dead father. How was he meant to handle a relationship? A job he hated? Life?

"Malik?"

Malik whimpered as a hand touched his arm and he flinched. The hand stilled.

"Malik, do you want me to turn on some more lights?"

After a moment, Malik nodded. The salt lamp wasn't enough anymore. Ryou reached up to the switch above the bed and the fairy lights flickered on, then turned on the lamp on his own side too.

Malik tried to ease his breathing. In for five, out for seven.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Malik shook his head. "Couldn't sleep," he whispered, voice cracking.

Ryou carefully shifted to wrap his arms around Malik. The pressure, the warmth, helped. Malik leaned into him.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Malik swallowed. "I'm terrified," he whispered, "that I'm going to fuck this up." He shook his head. "I hate this. I hate my job. I hate going to work every day. But I love seeing you and I- I'm scared that I'm going to fuck up, and that's going to go away. You're going to go away."

Ryou held him closer. "You're not going to fuck up."

"You don't know that." Malik hid his face in Ryou's shoulder. He was already fucking up.

"Yes, I do." Ryou smoothed Malik's hair, carefully untangling knots with gentle fingers. "And you know what? If you do fuck up, it's okay. And it's okay if I fuck up. Because if that happens, we'll talk about it."

Malik gritted his teeth. "What if it's bad?"

"Then we'll talk about it," Ryou repeated, "until it doesn't seem so bad, and we'll find a way to make it better. Together."

Malik's shoulders slowly relaxed. It was stupid. Hours of intrusive memories, and a thirty-second conversation was calming him down. "I'm still scared."

"That's okay." Ryou kissed the top of his head. "I am too. But we've got each other. And we'll work through whatever comes our way, okay?"

Malik slowly nodded. After a few minutes of slowly coming back to reality in Ryou's arms, he let out a shaky breath. "I really don't want to go to work."

"Then don't," Ryou murmured. "Call in sick. You seem like you need a day off."

"I don't mean tomorrow- or, today, I guess." Malik raised his head to look at Ryou. "I don't want to go back. I- I don't think I can handle going back down into the archive."

Ryou tilted his head. Malik waited. Waited for him to say it was silly, or Malik would feel better after a day off, or that it was his lifelong work and he couldn't give it up.

"What would you like to do instead?"

Malik reached up and rubbed a hand over his face. "Don't laugh?"

"Of course."

"I... I want to go back to school." Malik looked up at him. "I have more than enough saved up for fees and living expenses for a few years, and... I think I want to go into fashion design."

And Ryou smiled. Bright and beautiful, his nose scrunching and eyes crinkling. "That suits you so well," he said. "With your outfits? Japan will be the most fashionable country the world has ever seen."

Malik swallowed, eyes hot again. "Gods, I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too." Ryou brushed their noses together. "And I promise, I'll support you however you need. Even if it's just magic cups of coffee."

Malik returned the smile and pressed a soft kiss to Ryou's lips. "Thank you."

"There's nothing to thank me for right now." Ryou gave him a soft squeeze. "Do you think you can sleep now?"

Malik let out a slow breath and nodded. "I think so."

"I'm glad." Ryou held him closer, guiding Malik back to lying on the bed. Malik carefully nuzzled into Ryou's chest. "Wake me if you can't, and we can watch YouTube videos, okay?"

"Okay," Malik agreed, but his eyes were already slipping closed.