Title: Missing: Dreaming Driver
Author: Rill
Rating: R - Two little scenes
Pairing(s): Ryousuke/Takumi and Keisuke/Takeshi
Spoilers: ah... none, that I can think of... nope.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. How could I? I don't even have a job.
Summary: Bunta wakes up to find that Takumi never came home the previous night. But what exactly kept him away?
Hot hands clenched into burning flesh, deepening bruises already marked clearly.
"Please! Please!" The pleas were breathless and followed by a long moan that cut short as thrusting hips answered. Flesh slid along flesh and one hand rose to wrap around weeping hardness. One long, slow pump as hips shifted back to the very tip.
"Beg." The word burnt the air.
"Please! Fuck me!" The hand began to loosen. "Please, master! Please!" The hand tightened painfully and another thrust followed.
"Please!" The entire bed rocked. "Master!!!"
Bunta rolled over and with a mental groan, stared at the beeping clock. Then he pushed himself out of bed and grabbed his clothes. Stumping down stairs, he muttered obscenities under his breath. Sometimes he abhorred his job. Reaching the restaurant, he immediately began packaging the tofu and making enough noise to rouse Takumi.
Half an hour later, the tofu was ready to go, but Takumi had yet to appear. Glancing outside, Bunta saw the Hachi-Roku and then looked at the ceiling. Maybe dreams were catching. He sauntered back up stairs and knocked loudly on his son's door.
"Wake up! You've got deliveries to make." Nothing. He pushed open the door and stared blankly at the unused bed. Then he walked downstairs to the living room and frowned at the similarly empty couch. Slightly worried, he went outside and examined the car. Nothing. He opened a door and peered in. Totally empty, except for a piece of paper on the driver's seat. Picking it up, he read the words quickly.
My apologies, but you'll have to make the tofu run yourself this morning.
He stared at the handwriting. Definitely not Takumi's, but not someone's he recognized either. Bunta sighed and went inside to get the tofu. After loading it into the car, he grabbed the phone. Checking the paper posted on the wall, he called the number scribbled in pencil.
The phone didn't even ring. A click sounded and the recorded message began.
"This is Takumi. I'll try and call you back." There was a pause and then a beep. Bunta debated and then spoke.
"If you knew you were blowing off the deliveries, you're in trouble. If not, then have fun." He hung up and walked out to the car.
The mouth was warm, wet and very soft. It was also extremely skilled. A startled moan burst out as it was quickly lowered and then lifted, the tongue teasing the very tip.
"More..." The request somehow managed to be a command despite the decided tone of desperation. A chuckle and subsequent the vibrations drew long fingers down to tangle in pale hair.
They tightened and pushed down as the head began to lift.
Bunta woke up again and this time gave into the urge to glare at the noisemaker. The phone did not respond and he grabbed it.
"What?" He demanded. Silence on the other side and then a very surprised and loud voice.
"Is Takumi there?"
"No. Who is this?"
"This is Itsuki. Are you sure he's not? He was supposed to pick me up for the beach an hour ago." The old man held his head after the voice and sighed.
"No, he's not here. I assumed that you and the rest of that group were throwing him a party or something. I had to make the run this morning myself." Itsuki's shocked yells were deafening.
"So that's all you know?" The entire group had gathered and they were staring at the note on the table. Bunta nodded.
"Yeah. I figured that it was some kind of surprise party, but I think I maybe should be worried now. I called his cell phone again twenty minutes ago and still no answer." There were various thoughtful nods.
"Why?" Itsuki asked. Bunta regarded him and had a sudden revelation about why Takumi had developed his stare-off-in-to-space thing. If he had spent as much time with Itsuki, he probably would have too.
"There are racers who would like to see Takumi taken out of the running, Itsuki. They might have done something. Or maybe someone who lost a lot of money over one of Takumi's races. He does have quite a few enemies and..." Iketani's explanation came to an abrupt halt as the door opened and a very familiar figure stepped inside.
"Hey, have you guys seen Takumi? I was looking for a race." Keisuke blinked as several glares were leveled at him. "What?"
Bunta ignored the glares of the other racers and leaned forward.
"Takumi is missing. Don't suppose you saw him last night?" Keisuke shook his head and walked to the table for a seat.
"Damn. And when Ryousuke is busy and Takeshi has stuff to do. Screw it, I'll race myself. So what... Hey, why is Ryousuke telling you what to do with tofu?" Bunta and the rest stared at him.
"This is your brother's handwriting?" Itsuki demanded. Keisuke looked at him curiously and nodded, picking up the note.
"Yeah. Wait... That bastard!" The blonde yanked his cell phone out and hit a button, the note crumpling in his left hand. After a short while, the other end picked up, but Keisuke didn't even bother to listen to the greeting.
"You bastard! That's why you wanted me out of the house! You were showing Takumi new moves!" Whatever the other side was saying was drowned out by the door opening. Takumi stood in the doorway and regarded Keisuke and the rest. He waved and began to walk into the back.
"He's here so I'll just ask him, Mr. Just-Spend-The-Night-It's-Too-Late-To-Drive-Home!" The blonde threw the crumpled note at the back of Takumi's head. His victim turned around and blinked. Keisuke jumped in front of him and extended a finger.
"What new moves did my brother show you?" He demanded. Takumi blinked again.
"New?" He thought for several moments. "I don't think we did anything new... Well, there were a few things, but not stuff you'd care about." Keisuke glared at the phone and began to yell at it.
"You showed him new stuff!" Long arms began to gesture wildly. "You've been promising to help me, but no! Takumi comes first! Ryousuke, you..." His flexing fingers hit something and the completely controlled tones of Ryousuke Takahashi echoed through the room.
"Shut up, Keisuke. Given my complaints the last time Takeshi was over, it would have been hypocritical of me to tell you to return home to last night's activities. And I highly doubt that you want me 'show' you the various ways I fucked Takumi last night so get over it. Come home and let Takumi sleep. He needs it. Better yet, go find Takeshi and get laid. You need it. And if you're going to spend the night, call me so I can make the same arrangements I made last night. Tell Takumi to call me when he wakes up, but don't tell him if you're going to spend the night. The surprise is the fun part." Silence descended. Keisuke and everyone else were gaping at Takumi, whose cheeks were scarlet.
"I'll call you, Ryou. Bye." He said loudly, grabbing the phone from Keisuke's immobile hand and ended the call. Putting the phone back, he looked at the gaping faces.
"I'm going to bed." He managed and walked slowly up the stairs. Keisuke started to say something, but realized what the slow pace was due to and went into shock again. Bunta watched for a minute and then began to chuckle.
"I want you here for deliveries at least every other day, starting with an off-day tomorrow. On-days, you pack the tofu too. And I don't care about the rest, just don't skip school!" He yelled.
Up the stairs, Takumi took a breath of relief, closed the door and almost fell into bed. His cell phone rang and he picked it up.
"Kei hit speaker accidentally." He said. Ryousuke was silent for a moment.
"Who was there?"
"The Old Man, Itsuki, the rest of the SpeedStars, and Kei. They were pretty shocked, but the Old Man was ok with it. He says I can have every other day off."
"Good." Ryousuke's tone was smug. "I like having you in my bed in the mornings. Now go to sleep so you'll be rested for tonight." Takumi turned on his side and yawned.
"Whatever." He said, and started to click 'end'.
"Takumi." The younger man sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Whatever, master." He drawled and snuggled down to sleep.
Ryousuke smirked at the phone. He had heard the eye rolling. Turning, he studied the remains of his bed and dialed a different number, while buttoning his dress shirt. At least his residency meant late mornings.
"Hello, Takahashi-san, what model bed who you like this time?" The sales clerk sounded very amused. Ryousuke thought, slipping his tie around his neck. His hand froze in mid-motion.
"Do you have something with very strong bed posts?" He asked.