"So I have to move instead?" Ryouma complained. He'd done less-possible things in his career as a ninja, probably; he just couldn't think of any right now. It certainly took more effort to unseal his cheek from Raidou's chest and haul himself up onto one elbow than it had to drag a fallen comrade one-handed up over the edge of a cliff, though at least this time he didn't have an arrow embedded in the back of his other shoulder.

Raidou was reclining back on pillows, like a daimyo at his leisure. Ryouma hitched himself up a few inches to be level, and Raidou met him with a kiss, closed-mouthed and gentle, broad hand cradling the back of Ryouma's head.

The tears took them both by surprise.

"Sorry," Ryouma said, pulling roughly back, scrubbing at his eyes with the side of his hand. "It's not— I don't normally do this."

Raidou's hand slipped down from Ryouma's hair to cup his cheek, thumbing an escaped tear away. He caught Ryouma's shoulder with the other hand and pulled him down again for another kiss, lingering. "You're doing fine," he said, against the corner of Ryouma's mouth. "This is a good bit, too. Ride it out however you need to."

Easy enough to say for the man who wasn't crying. Ryouma's throat hurt again, worse than the stinging in his ass and on his thighs and the side of his neck. He put his head down there in the hollow between Raidou's throat and shoulder, where Raidou had bitten him, and he thought about biting Raidou back, and about the way Raidou had hit him and held him, and then about nothing at all.

Eventually he stirred, and turned his head. Raidou was rubbing his back again, slow circles over the tattoo and down lower along his spine, with a few gentle pats to break the monotony. "You could have a second career," Ryouma told him hoarsely. "Sex therapist and masseur. I'd pay."

Except he wasn't going to see Raidou again, when—if—he came back. It was harder than it should have been to remind himself of that.

"Paying for sex kind of takes my brain to a different place," Raidou said, though he sounded amused. "But I'll bear that in mind." He reached for a glass of water on the bedside table.

Ryouma propped himself up to drink it. The water was lukewarm and metallic, as always, but it soothed his ragged throat. He stretched over Raidou to set the glass down again, and said, without looking down, "Thanks."