[Written on Oct. 28th, 2002]
[Last Edited August 1st of 2004]
Disclaimer: Not mine; never will be. Sanami Matoh is the lucky manga artist that owns FAKE.
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“Three Little Words”
Chapter Three: But Words Always Hurt Me
The Japanese-American lay on his bed, nestled comfortably in warm sheets and blankets, yet while his body was contented, his mind was busying itself with making Ryo completely miserable, trying desperately to comprehend why he'd acted the way he had in the car, being that he'd never responded to Dee's advances before, and not in such a fervent matter, even now his cheeks burned as he thought of the detective's warm mouth planting a line of kisses across his collarbone determinedly; thoroughly confused and dismayed, Ryo sat up, wrapping a sheet around him tightly, since fall was nearing an end, and the weather had recently taken on a chilly air, meaning snow couldn't be far behind. He rose to his feet, creeping across the bedroom floor in complete silence, as he had well become aware of all the floorboards that creaked when stepped upon, and which did not.
Thoroughly confused and dismayed, Ryo sat up, wrapping a sheet around him tightly. Fall was nearing an end, and the weather had recently taken on a chilly air. Snow couldn’t be far behind. He lurched to his feet, creeping across the bedroom floor in silence.
Upon arriving at Ryo's apartment, Dee had fixed himself a quick sandwich (using whatever he grabbed first from the fridge), taken a handful of pain relievers then collapsed on the couch in the living room, worrying Ryo as his partner was acting so out of character, he usually grinned and bore whatever befell him but now, his demeanor was the exact opposite.
Ryo came to find himself at the edge of his couch, gazing down on the unconscious figure sprawled across his furniture: the very object of his uncertainties. What was so special about him that Dee felt the need to chase him, and make romantic overtures? The last time Ryo had checked he was straight, yet he'd let this man kiss him countless times, and now he found himself actually countering Dee's advances, meaning his body (more hormones than anything, in all probability) were definitely trying to relay a message, and Ryo was not sure he was ready to receive it just yet.
Unconscious of the action, pale fingers reached down and brushed aside a few strands of black hair from Dee's forehead. He looked so different when he was asleep, no longer was that brash smirk in place; as Ryo began to move his arm, he suddenly stopped dead for no reason at all, and remained in that position for some time, trying to discern why he couldn't step that short distance away but his mind did not yield any answers, and that too, made Ryo stay as he was, for he knew the answer was of the utmost significance.
Said slumbering man stopped his light snoring, and opened half-lidded eyes to gaze blankly at Ryo in the darkness; uncomprehending, he snaked an arm around Ryo's waist, pulling him onto the couch as well, and despite the man's jerky movements, Dee managed to bury his face against a suddenly fevered neck. As he drifted back to sleep, he made a somewhat content sound, squeezing his pillow a bit tighter.
"Dee…" The name was uttered softly as strong arms convulsed against his waist and Ryo let himself relax, surprisingly, the sharpshooter felt sleep drag at the edges of his mind after a few moments, in which he lay listening to the steady rhythm of Dee's heartbeat, before he fell unconscious, Ryo mused that Bikky would have been in for quite a shock if he hadn't been staying at a friend's house for the weekend.
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Dee snuggled closer to his pillow, smiling lightly as the body in his arms groaned at the movement, unaware of a head turned his way or dark Asian eyes narrowed in suspicion as the American moved even closer, running a hand down Ryo's back, fingers drumming against Ryo’s waist; suddenly Ryo felt very uncomfortable, and he jerked off the couch in a near blur of speed, hastening across the room to the bathroom, as the Japanese-American opened the door, he muttered underneath his breath about a cold shower and over-amorous men.
Watching amusedly as his partner made a strategic retreat, Dee smirked, drawing an imaginary one in the air, if he kept this up, very soon, Ryo wouldn't be able to deny that he felt nothing. Feeling more than a little smug, Dee rolled off the couch, landing on the balls of his feet before he let out a string of impressive curses as his injuries from the night before made themselves known.
He wandered into the kitchen a moment later, walking more stiffly than usual. "Pain relievers…" Dee said, eyes scanning the kitchen for supposed items, his gaze caught on a row of brightly labeled bottles positioned on top of the refrigerator. Advil, Extra Strength Tylenol, or Ibuprofen? Not one to care about such insignificant choices, he grabbed a random bottle and swallowed the pills dry.
His hands wandered to the refrigerator handle, and he looked over the stocked food in the chilling unit curiously, Ryo had always kicked him out of the kitchen before he could finish investigating everything, which irked him a bit considering his profession, thinking a moment to himself, Dee snatched a few select items from the fridge then wondered if Ryo wouldn't mind him making use of the kitchen.
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The smell of strawberries was the first aroma to hit Ryo as he stepped out of the bathroom, intrigued, he approached the kitchen with a sense of dread lingering at the back of his mind, he couldn't picture Dee cooking without the room he was doing the activity in, being a complete and total disaster. He poked his head in cautiously, eyes growing wide as he observed the raven-haired detective flipping pancakes serenely, and noted that the counter-tops weren't littered with pancake mix, or flour, in fact, they looked better than usual. Had Dee actually cleaned something?
"Vanilla…why do you always smell of vanilla? Is that the main ingredient in your body wash or something?" Dee asked as he glanced over his shoulder, his eyebrows rising a bit as he took the sight of the Japanese-American clad only in a light blue bathrobe.
"Actually, it's my shampoo," Ryo corrected, smiling at Dee as he pulled a pair of plates from the wooden cabinets above the stove.
"Ah, one of the great mysteries is solved," Dee exclaimed dramatically as he winked at Ryo. The Japanese-American felt himself flush as he made yet another retreat into his bedroom to get dressed.
Dee made Ryo feel as if he were balancing on a knife's edge, one minute, he was kissing the man breathless; the next he was discussing the details of a case rather professionally, all business and no play, and sometimes, he couldn't distinguish whether or not the American was serious in his advances. Part of Ryo wanted to throw all caution to the wind, and firmly embrace the idea of getting romantically involved with the man, while the other chided at him, for sometimes falling prey to Dee's obvious intentions and endless flirtations, the man was a known player after all, and here he was, almost unhesitatingly giving his heart away; his heart and mind seemed to be at odds.
Ryo's mind was deep in turmoil as he took a seat in one of the chairs situated around the table, uncharacteristically somber as he assessed the plate of food placed before him, the strawberry pancakes had not a trace of black on them, and looked rather delicious; however, Ryo knew better than to trust appearances, they were very often deceiving.
Upon seeing Ryo's skeptical gaze, Dee struck a dramatic pose, hands held over his heart just so. "Oh, you wound me, dear sir! I'll have you know I was halfway decent cook before you came along and spoiled me," He said taking his own seat across from his partner, quickly shoveling one of pancakes into his mouth after practically drowning it in maple syrup and powered sugar.
Ryo made a face at the American's poor table manners then glanced down at his own breakfast, swearing vengeance if the food killed him once consumed, he took up his knife and folk and within a moment, if a bit hesitantly, took a small bite. It was surprisingly sweet with a hint of honey as an aftertaste. The rest of the pancake was eaten swiftly, while Dee smirked in silent triumph.
The older man paused in his consummation to eye his partner suspiciously, as he still hadn't forgotten the stunt he pulled last night, along with this morning's as well. "I take it you slept rather well last night?"
Dee grinned widely, the smile bordering on the malevolence side. "I acquired a nice pillow, though it had the oddest habit of moving even closer than intended." Ryo said nothing to this, only popped another piece of pancake into his mouth. Seeing his opening, the raven-haired detective leaned forward, resting a hand on Ryo's arm. "By the way, I'm curious. What were you doing standing over the couch in the middle of the night, surely you weren't planning to molest me in my sleep? Not that it’d be unwelcome." Dee wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, not aware his partner wasn’t exactly in the teasing mood.
Ryo frowned, dark thoughts swirling about in his mind once more. He put down his silverware, and laid a hand over Dee's lingering touch, intertwining their fingers, taking note of Dee’s surprised face, and then clutched firmly at the embrace, absolutely firm in what he was about to admit. "I was putting certain things into prospective, I'm sure you've noticed something's changed in my behavior. No matter what I tell my mind, my body refuses to heed its advice, I should just flatly tell you there's no chance in hell that you'd have manage a relationship with me, but I can't."
“Ryo?”
Ryo took a deep breath, not so sure this was such a good idea anymore. "I'm saying I'm willing to hazard a relationship with you," He said quickly, wishing he hadn't decided to be spontaneous, and throw all caution to the wind, and determined to avoid Dee’s eyes as long as he could, Ryo bit his lower lip, dark Asian eyes lifting, after a moment, from the linoleum floor to gauge his partner’s reaction: what he found stunned him.
Dee’s gaze was mutely fixed on him, surprise bordering on shock as he continued to stare; and then seconds later, Dee’s expression slowly returned to his usual smirk, the only difference being that the raven-haired man seemed very satisfied. Dee compressed Ryo's hand briefly then retreated to its owner. "You won't regret it, Ryo, I promise you."
The Japanese-American merely nodded, unwilling to think of all that could go wrong with this initiative, and instead concentrated on all that could be, and unaware of it, a small smile gathered on Ryo’s face, which Dee echoed, unknowingly of it’s true connotation.
To Be Continued…
Onto Chapter Four?
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