[Written between December 10th through the 12th of 2002]
[Last edited August 22nd of 2004]
Disclaimer: Sanami Matoh holds all the rights.
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“Three Little Words”
Chapter Eight: Passion
Warmth. A very sizeable and immensely comfortable pillow had been situated underneath him, and Ryo snuggled deeper against it, light smile playing on his lips; the rise and fall of Dee’s chest had become somewhat of a makeshift clock, possessing the same rhythm and momentum as said object. By his mental calculation, twenty minutes had gone by since he had gained consciousness and found his partner (in the truest sense of the word as well as the professional expression) laying in the same bed as he, and had taken to the habit of letting Ryo use him as a pillow, one of his pale arms was positioned against the crevice in Dee’s left shoulder, while part of his chest and head rested upon the man’s chest.
The previous evening’s events came back after little thinking, and the Japanese-American felt the blood in his body rush to his face within the space of a minute, as he dwelled on the memory of flesh slamming against flesh, with the ardor of ever-deepening feelings and gratification saturating the atmosphere around the two men as their bodies continued to move in synchronized rhythm, and then Ryo had admitted his feelings for Dee before falling into the abyss that was sleep, though something in the back of his mind chided at him for forgetting an important fact, though he himself had no idea what it was.
Light groaning brought his attention to the body he was resting upon, and he readjusted so Ryo could witness the man’s awakening; eyelids fluttered open and closed before deciding to remain ajar and let dark green eyes that brought every feline species to mind view the light of day; the corners of Dee’s mouth quirked upwards into a large and very contented smirk as he took in the sight of the exposed Ryo leaning against him.
“You are aware this is a sight I could never grow weary of, right?” The younger man notified with an air of smugness as he shifted his arm a few inches above him to shake off the sleep that still possessed the limb. Ryo felt more blood merge underneath his already flushed face, and he pulled away from Dee, extracting limbs from heated flesh and tried to opt for the comforter that had mostly wormed it’s way around his lover’s body; as the feel of the afternoon frigidness brought goose bumps to his flesh, Ryo jerked the heavy blanket away, smirk overcoming his mouth as Dee’s hands groped for the bedding that had escaped his lecherous grasp.
The raven-haired detective glowered at the backside of Ryo as he pulled the blanket around his body and situated himself not a few inches away, a particularly good idea sank into Dee’s mind, and he crawled over to the sharpshooter, depositing a gentle kiss on the back of Ryo’s neck, then delighting in the small contented sound that crawled out of the man’s mouth. Confident his plan would now succeed, Dee slowly worked the body lying beneath him onto his back, where he captured the Japanese-American’s mouth with his own, implementing the fine skill of kissing he’d learned from past experiences (though none of them compared to the present).
Ryo stifled a groan when Dee pulled back, and he shoved aside the comforter in haste as his hands took hold of his lover’s neck, and pulled him close, their noses touching tenderly; Dee smiled at him, running a tan finger down the length of Ryo’s face until he reached the sharpshooter’s chin.
Dee grinned broadly when he spied the various light bruises that decorated the expanse of Ryo’s neck, with a few bluish purple speckles on the line of his collarbone as well. “I didn’t realize you bruised so easily, koibito (1),” The American muttered huskily lifting his head to meet his boyfriend’s gaze, dark Asian eyes went wide with surprise and when Ryo spoke, his voice rang in an odd tone Dee recognized as one of curiosity.
“I thought you didn’t speak Japanese, if I recall correctly, you claimed it was gibberish,” He said, small smirk moving the corners of his mouth as he thought of the events that had lead to that particular conversation. The Japanese-American started when his partner shifted his body downward, laying his head of raven locks just a few inches under Ryo’s chin, onto the line of the man’s collarbone. “I don’t but I’ve had a few Asian lovers and they thought it beneficial to teach me a few words of their language, particularly of the sentimental kind. Does the pet name bother you?”
Ryo shook his head, some tendrils of Dee’s short hair trickling his chin as he undertook the action. “Not at all. It just startled me, you using a word of a language you claimed no prior knowledge of.”
The American smiled mischievously and he crawled up the length of Ryo’s body, inclining onto his arms as he pressed a soft kiss onto the man’s mouth then withdrew, noting with a hint of amusement that desire loitered deep in the dark heavy gaze that met his own. “Care to test my knowledge?”
Amid the sound of rustling covers, low breathy moans, half-hearted chuckles, and stunned gasps, if one listened closely, they would be able to discern the soundless echo of two souls beat in perfect resonance.
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Some hours later
Cal (2) sat in the midst of throw pillows on the couch in front of flashing lights of the television, legs tucked underneath her and eyes shifting from the program playing on the screen to the two men sitting in the far corner of the couch regularly; if one was completely engrossed in the program, they would have neglected to see the occasional movement of Dee’s hand resting against the top of the couch, fingers brushing softly against the back of Ryo’s neck. Amazingly enough, the Japanese-American sat calmly, an unperturbed expression on his features as he watched the program, not at all irritated at his partner’s touch, if fact, he looked a little receptive to it.
Usually, when Dee made overtures, the man grew angry or became moderately confused about his own feelings but the usual sexual tension between the pair had completely vanished, and the teenager took only a moment to draw the inevitable conclusion, stifling a fit of giggles as she brought her hand to her mouth to cover the broad grin that had developed there. Bikky glanced up at her questionably but she immediately shook her head, knowing quite well her friend’s feelings about Dee, and his advances towards the man who had taken Bikky underneath his wing. Cal entertained thoughts on how the detective had managed to get the sharpshooter to comply, and she cooed softly to herself, the yaoi implications spinning about in her mind’s eye one after another.
When Ryo had slipped into the kitchen to set about the task of making some tea, Cal followed closely behind, grin playing about her lips as she took a seat at the kitchen table; the man continued to move, pulling a mug from the wooden cabinets above the stove, and drawing some water from the tap. Cal drummed her fingers against the tabletop, impatient to confirm her suspicions, and spoke quietly, suppressing the gleeful tone in her voice. “So, how was it?”
The detective turned from the active microwave; quirking an eyebrow whilst crossing his arms as he gazed at her, oblivious to her slight allusion. “What are you talking about?”
Cal heaved a sigh; slightly exasperated the sharpshooter had no clue as to what she was alluding to, perhaps she had drawn the wrong conclusion after all? But it still didn’t erase the odd resignation of Dee’s innuendos, or Ryo’s nonchalant behavior concerning the aforementioned topic. “You may be able to fool Bikky as he’s either unconsciously ignoring or completely oblivious but I’m well aware of the casual touching that’s been going on with you and Dee throughout this whole evening. Have you two done it or what?”
Had Ryo taken a sip of his now finished tea, he would have without a doubt choked upon the substance considering the crimson flush that had overcome the whole of his face, as it was, he looked very embarrassed and uneasy, shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, while skillfully evading Cal’s quite direct gaze. He said nothing and there was no need to, as his silence said everything and more, in response, the teenager smiled brightly, practically radiating waves of pride and happiness. “That’s great, Ryo! What’d it take for you to realize the man was quite serious in his advances?”
It was some time before Ryo answered, retrieving his mug of steaming tea from the countertop and taking a few sips before beginning to answer Cal’s question. “It was more like me realizing how deeply I cared for Dee, and acting upon it, before taking note of the fact Dee felt the same way, despite the candid matter in which he expressed them.”
The teenager laughed uproariously before gaining some sort of control over her body and replied shortly. “That’s just a polite way of saying he assaulted you each and every chance he got.”
Ryo only smiled to himself, contemplating various thoughts before muttering underneath his breath, “Perhaps.”
Said man in question sauntered into the kitchen, casting curious looks upon the pair as he stood in the room, then stared at the Japanese-American’s slightly flushed face before turning to Cal in obvious suspicion. “She knows, doesn’t she?”
The teenager grinned, nodding enthusiastically, before tucking a leg underneath her as Dee merely shook his head, displeased but unable to do anything about the situation, so he strode nearer to Ryo, slipping behind the man and enclosing his arms about the sharpshooter’s waist, then rested his chin on Ryo’s shoulder; surprisingly, his partner offered no objections and even leaned back into the embrace a bit, hand clutched tightly around the mug of tea in his possession.
Cal desperately wished she had a camera with her, as the pair looked very comfortable with each other, and she thought it sweet how quickly Ryo had accepted his feelings for the other man and allowed him to overtake the mostly dominant role in the relationship. When Dee met her slightly glassy eyes from across the room, he cursed, squeezing Ryo lightly to reassure him wasn’t he who Dee was distressed at and released the man to stalk across the floor and stab a finger in the teenager’s direction. “You’re a yaoi fan, aren’t you?”
At Cal’s broad and slightly hentai grin, Dee sighed, throwing up his arms in exasperation, before pausing a moment to consider the teenager suspiciously. “If I find any type of photogenic or surveillance equipment in this or my apartment, even so much as leaving a camera, I am-“
The teenager gestured off the rest of Dee’s lecture, yawning as she did so then Cal stood, stretching for a moment before heading for the door, brushing a hand through her long hair and glanced back over her shoulder. “I wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing,” She assured the two men, though the devilish grin possessing her lower features said different.
When she had completely exited the room and settled back onto the couch in the living room, Dee crossed his arms, leaning against the kitchen cabinet, and heaved another sigh in the space of less then five minutes. “Why do the have the strangest inkling this is going to become a problem?”
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Monday morning, the 27th Precinct
Lipstick coated lips puckered, and pressed thin and white before Diana Spacey finally deposited the tube of lipstick back in her pocket, and after a brief moment of consideration pulled opened the office door, and strode into the room, grinning madly at the pair of handsome detectives.
Randy McLane, better known as Ryo, was the first one to take note of her presence, quickly standing and giving the F.B.I. agent a quick squeeze before releasing her; Diana snaked an arm over the man’s waist, and gave his cheek a little peck, asking the usual, how was he, any big cases consuming their time and resources, how was the commissioner doing, had he consummated his relationship with Dee yet?
At Ryo’s sudden coloring, the woman smirked, muttering congratulations before retrieving her arm and depositing herself on the corner of his stoic partner’s desk, Diana’s voice came out low and seductive as she leaned over the sitting man known as Dee Laytner (call me Dee); face not two inches from Dee’s own. “Hello, handsome. Any particular reason why you’re ignoring me today? Here I thought, I’d be nice and drop in to see my favorite pair of detectives was coming about and I don’t even get a kiss hello, I think I’m hurt…”
Dee’s face was anything but sympathetic as he straightened the papers situated on the desk in front of him, arms skillfully maneuvering around the woman, with a perfectly serious face, he said, “You’re such a drama queen, I doubt you’re wounded that badly, besides, as level-headed as Ryo appears, he finds my flirtatious mannerisms less than amusing.”
Diana frowned, before leaning forward to plant a light kiss on the detective’s mouth, she withdrew a moment later, smirking widely as she took in the sight of the Ryo’s brow as it narrowed in agitation. “I forgive you, Dee. By the by, I’m very happy to see the two of you have finally gotten together. I’ll bet Berkeley was just delighted when he heard this bit of news, poor man’s far too blind in his choice of conquests to know true love when he sees it.”
When the pair of men exchanged a look, one set of eyes imploring while the other was determined, the F.B.I. agent glanced about wildly, then realization settled in, and the cheery demeanor abruptly vanished as her face turned solemn. “You mean you haven’t told anyone, not even your own commissioner? I’m sorry to have to be the one to inform you of this but unless you can separate your private life and your work, you will be royally screwed and not in a particularly good way.”
Ryo shifted uncomfortably in his chair, eyes downcast before he looked up into the woman’s direct gaze, he and Dee had discussed this decision at length, and while the younger man had been a bit reluctant to agree to his partner’s wishes, he had consented, and promised (as best he could considering how active his libido was) to not accost the man in public. Being intimate in the privacy of your own home was one thing but in view of a crowd was another matter altogether, as Ryo had eloquently put it. “We are aware of the implications this could have but I think we’re very able to separate work and private affairs.”
The F.B.I. agent was motionless a moment then nodded approvingly. “I’m very glad to hear that,” She said before standing up, and dusting off her short skirt then turned to kiss Ryo’s cheek gently (chuckling amusingly as Dee practically radiated waves of displeasure), and headed for the closed office door, before Diana exited however, she glanced over her shoulder and for a moment looked as if she was about to speak, but turned away instead, pulling open the office door rapidly and disappearing through the wooden frame.
Dee quirked a brow questionably, but shook his head as his gaze fell about the scattered papers once more, particularly the recent report on his desktop. One more man driven insane by society had killed another poor innocent bystander. The world was as it should be, however mad it appeared at times.
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“Diana, it’s nice to see you again. However, you never come around without good reason, don’t tell me you came to visit an old friend?” Berkeley inquired, soft tone a sharp contrast to the deep baritone he usually spoke in, also, the cold demeanor around the commissioner had all but disappeared, the shield not necessary around such a comfortable presence.
The woman sitting on his lap chuckled, her arms around the man’s neck briefly tightening, as she shifted into a better-suited position. She leaned forward, touching noses with Berkeley and laid a soft kiss on his lips before pulling back and taking in the suddenly relaxed posturing of the commissioner and the slightly dazed look about his eyes.
“Of course, I have good reason. I came to butt in on various affairs, the first of which I’ve already visited and found a pleasant surprise,” The woman raised a hand to Berkeley’s face and rested a pale finger just a few inches above his left eyelid. “Speaking of which, I suggest you set your eye elsewhere if you’re interested in a simple conquest. Ryo is quite taken by his own partner and nothing short of death will separate the two. Besides though you can be stubborn as hell, you’re not the sort of man to intrude on one’s happiness once they’ve obtained it.”
As understanding dawned in Berkeley’s gaze, Diana gave the commissioner a quick squeeze about the ribs and leaned back against the steel plated lining of the desk, observing the various emotions as they swept through her friend’s face. He didn’t appear angry, as the calm expression on his face and raised eyebrow signaled interest rather than blind rage. “They managed to hide this fact from me?”
The woman fought the urge to drop to her knees before him, and beg and plead to allow the pair of men to remain partners, despite the fact their relationship had gone beyond normal socializing. Diana was confident they would be able to think levelheadedly in a situation involving the choice between saving an innocent or their lover. Nine times out of ten, she envisaged both of the men would defend the innocent. “Don’t tell me you’re going to separate them now, after all the time they’ve worked together and had not one complication despite the fact they’ve been hot and bothered for each other the whole time.”
Her friend seemed to consider this for a pregnant moment, and then shook his head in a curt movement, small smile playing about his mouth as Diana hugged him in unvoiced gratitude and relief. Her arms lingered around the man’s waist, and she spoke softly, larynx vibrating against the flesh of Berkeley’s throat. “I wish I didn’t have to disappear so soon. The atmosphere surrounding this place is so tranquil, it’s a wonder you get any work done around here.”
Berkeley lifted his arms and rested them around the woman’s shoulders, placing his chin on her shoulder. Diana went motionless in his arms, and when she pulled back questionably, the man pressed his mouth to hers in a velvety kiss, one that spoke of friendship and much more once circumstances allowed. The commissioner withdrew from her bruised and swollen lips a few inches away, breath fanning against her chin and raising goose bumps on her flesh as he spoke. “If you didn’t leave, I wouldn’t have the chance to think about you while you were away.”
Diana Spacey had no words at her disposal, since usually she initiated situations like this instead of the other way around (quite simply, she was flabbergasted). Blinking stupidly, she allowed herself to be guided onto her feet, skirt adjusted back to its former presentable appearance, and herded towards the door before the ice that had seized her abruptly melted and she dug her heels into the carpet of the floor stubbornly. “Now just a minute, Berkeley Andrew Rose! What the-“
The form of contained violence behind her exploded into motion and before she could draw in a breath, his mouth was pressed hard against her own while one hand held her wrists above her head as the small of her back bumped into the door handle. When Diana was graced with the opportunity with air, she let out a sharp gasp, and huffed jaggedly while trying to calm her suddenly frantic heartbeat.
Berkeley for his part only smiled smugly, releasing her wrists with gentleness not witnessed by many, and certainly not thought possible. Once Diana had her breathing underneath some sort of control, she gazed at Berkeley questionably, the affection seen openly upon his face both pleasing and unnerving her.
When the silence between the two stretched onwards, the F.B.I. agent collected herself and walked towards the office door before turning around and exiting with this collection of words. “Unfortunately, before I can depart once more, I have to conduct a meeting with you and your precinct about an upcoming case, one involving a string of murdered children and a very sadistic and demented torturer/murderer.”
To Be Continued…
Onto Chapter Nine?
(1) Love
(2) In this story, I figure Bikky is about 13 years old so therefore Cal would be 16.
Questions? Comments? Any and all replies will be welcome. [email protected]
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