***AN: So yesterday was April 1st and for shits and giggles I posted an abridged deathshipping fic as an April Fool's Day joke, but then I figured I should post a regular story as well. (As an apology for you guys putting up with my lame-ass sense of humor, I suppose). This will be a two-shot. I'll try to get the ending up sometime this weekend. The story is M rated for the usual reason stories on this site are M rated.***
"More and more frequently the edges
of me dissolve and I become
a wish to assimilate the world, including
you, if possible through the skin
like a cool plant's tricks with oxygen
and live by a harmless green burning.
I would not consume
you or ever
finish, you would still be there
surrounding me, complete
as the air.
Unfortunately I don't have leaves.
Instead I have eyes
and teeth and other non-green
things which rule out osmosis.
So be careful, I mean it,
I give you fair warning:
This kind of hunger draws
everything into its own
space; nor can we
talk it all over, have a calm
rational discussion.
There is no reason for this, only
a starved dog's logic about bones." ~ More and More, by Margaret Atwood.
Kek looked up and saw an angel. Ryo Bakura looked like an angel with the sunlight turning his white hair into liquid-platinum, but the long, black trench coat made him seem an angel of death. Perhaps he was the angel of death there to take Kek back to the Shadows from which he escaped. He spent the last three months sleeping in alleys and mugging people for enough money for food. Occasionally, he took jobs from local gangs so he could rent a room in a hotel to shower and wash his clothes. All his belongs fit into the rucksack flung over his shoulders.
The little angel blinked large, chocolate-brown eyes. "Marik?"
"No." Kek shook his head, clenching his jaw into a tight, angry line. "Kek. I'm not a part of Marik anymore, not after . . ."
"Kek? That's . . . well, original." Ryo shrugged. "You look cold and hungry. Come to my apartment. I'll make you dinner and you can spend the night."
"No." His jaw never softened; his teeth ached as he ground them before answering, "I'll hurt you."
"You think?" Ryo smiled. Not a fake smile, like Marik often gave people, but a real smile that lit up his face and left no doubt in Kek's mind that he stared at an angel. Ryo grabbed Kek's hand and lifted him to his feet. "I'm not as weak as everyone thinks."
Kek already knew. The knife wound, the blood loss, the mental strain of being controlled by Marik and the Spirit in the Ring, going to the Shadows, any one of those events could break a person, but here Ryo stood, smiling and unafraid as he held Kek's hand and guided him through Domino City. Kek shuffled behind, aimless and still not convinced he'd accept Ryo's offer. Perhaps Ryo wasn't weak, but Kek would still hurt him. He hurt everyone in some way. Even when he mugged people and left them alive and physically unharmed Kek saw the fear and hurt in their eyes. But he felt grimy, his hair greasy, and he stank. The offer of food and hot water sounded tempting, so Kek followed Ryo to his apartment building.
As Ryo unlocked the door, Kek slipped a switch blade from his pocket. Kek spun Ryo around and slammed his back against the door, holding the knife against his throat. "I usually don't give warnings, so consider this a courtesy. Do not let me into your home. If you do I will hurt you and I will steal from you."
He didn't plan on pulling his knife. He did it on impulse. Perhaps because the familiarity of Ryo's face, although he'd only dealt with the Spirit during Battle City – perhaps because, when he smiled, Ryo was the most beautiful thing Kek had ever seen – whatever the reason, something inside him didn't want to hurt Ryo as he hurt everyone else. Better to scare him with a switchblade and sleep another night on concrete than to see tears in eyes the warmest, darkest color brown Kek had ever seen.
"Left kidney," Ryo whispered.
Kek glanced over his shoulder and realized Ryo pressed the edge of a silver-handled straight razor against his back. Kek snorted. "I see that bothersome Spirit taught you a few tricks before he left."
"It is his straight razor."
"You mean was."
"I suppose I mean was. Too bad, he owes me 500 yen."
Kek arched an eyebrow to question Ryo, making sure the knife stayed light enough against Ryo's white throat so that it didn't cut the skin.
"I bet him that he'd lose against the Pharaoh."
"I don't think you're going to be able to collect on that bet anytime soon."
"Then I'll just have to keep the razor as compensation."
Kek wasted a minute staring at Ryo's face, his pale, pale lips and his swan-white throat. He didn't mind standing pressed against Ryo with a knife. The fact that Ryo held a weapon of his own only made the moment sweeter. He stowed the blade back in his pocket and Ryo slid his into his sleeve.
Inside the apartment, Ryo gathered a fresh towel and a cotton bath robe and handed them to Kek. "Use any of the toiletries you'd like and place your clothes outside the bathroom door so I can wash them while I cook dinner.
Kek stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. The hotels he stayed in were cheap, sordid establishments. They didn't leave mints on the pillows, but Kek often found needles, burnt spoons, or used condoms in random places. He learned to find the maid carts and grab a pair of folded towels and sheets before going to his room and changing all the linen before ever lying down. The shower heads often dribbled water instead of sprayed and smelled of rust or mildew. Ryo's shower was clean and the shower-head held fantastic pressure, so good it almost hurt as hot water scoured his skin clean. The shampoo smelt like jojoba and passion fruit and the soap held an faint, herbal scent, better than anything he'd used since being in his own body. The towels felt soft against Kek's skin instead of scratchy and the bathrobe warm and comfortable, though short since he had several centimeters over Ryo.
As soon as Kek opened the bathroom door the smells of shampoo, soap, and steam dissipated and ginger, garlic, and lemongrass took their place. Kek closed his eyes and sucked in a breath before finding the kitchen. Ryo stood in front of a wok, his hair tied back and a pair of chop sticks in his hand that he used to stir their dinner.
Ryo turned when he noticed Kek. "Feel better? Sit down, it's almost ready."
Kek obeyed, feeling out-of-place and dazed. Ryo set a plate in front of him, a noodle dish with long strips of beef and vegetables. He forced himself to eat slow and to chew the food. He wanted to use the chop sticks to shovel everything into his mouth, but knew he wouldn't be able to enjoy the taste if he ate too fast. For dessert, they had green tea and store-bought mochi.
Ryo smiled into his cup before sipping his tea. "I always have to have dessert. I don't feel like I'm done until I've had something sweet. I guess gluttony is my character flaw."
Kek knew his – rage – but at the table, he felt oddly calm.
"We're the same shoe size," Ryo said.
Kek grunted, not really knowing how to respond to the random statement.
"Your shoes were worn to the sole, so I threw them in the trash can. I have an almost new pair you can have. There's nothing wrong with them. I used them for gym class, but next semester I start college and I'm taking kendo so I won't need them."
Kek stared at his tea. His face wrinkled in a scowl of thought. A minute passed before he replied. "Thank you."
Ryo's smile widened. "My pleasure. I washed your clothes and mended your jacket." Ryo stood and left the kitchen, returning with the denim jacket Kek wore. "See, I patched this hole, and fixed this pocket. Plus, I added some pockets on the inside, and one in the sleeve right here." He leaned over the table so Kek saw the long, narrow pocket just inside the right sleeve. "You can hid a blade in this one. That's where I keep mine."
"Why?"
"Because people expect you to reach for your pants pocket instead and—"
"No, why did you do all this?"
"Why not?"
The answer didn't satisfy him, but he let the topic drop. Ryo washed the dishes and Kek found himself drying them. He didn't like the idea of sitting idle while Ryo waited on him like a woman. It reminded him too much of Ishizu, and Kek didn't like thinking about her. After dinner, they played Mario Kart until Ryo started yawning. He turned off the game system and stared at Kek. "I'm going to sleep. Feel free to watch something, or you could go through my books. Goodnight."
Kek watched Ryo disappear to the back of the apartment. Blankets and pillows sat folded on the sofa, waiting for Kek to snuggle beneath them. He set the blankets on the carpet and rested on the couch a moment to think. Everything felt soft and warm and smelled good. He didn't want to fall asleep on the couch. If he slept on the couch, safe and comfortable, how could he go back to the concrete tomorrow? He found his backpack and took out a pair of jeans and a white tank top. His clothes smelled like Ryo. Kek ran his fingers down the cotton of his shirt, soft and clean like everything else he associated with Ryo. Kek knew he couldn't stay any longer, better if he leave, but he felt like he needed to fulfill his threat before vanishing. He needed to steal something and he knew what he wanted – a broad lick of the foamy, white skin on Ryo's tender throat – he'd steal a taste before he left. A brush of lips, a streak of tongue, and a nibble of teeth, nothing to traumatize his host, but enough to deliver his message. Kek was too dangerous and if Ryo ever saw him on the streets again, it'd be better to walk in the opposite direction instead of trying to help.
He crept down the hall to Ryo's bedroom. He saw Ryo's outline. Ryo slept on his stomach, a cascade of white hair sprayed across the comforter. A taste of the nape of his neck and Kek would leave forever. He attacked the bed like a jaguar, straddling Ryo and grabbing a fist of hair to reveal the beautiful, white skin beneath. "I warned you. I warned you twice. This is your fault for not listening to me."
Ryo didn't cry or call out or even flinch. He stayed still and silent in Kek's hold, slowly reaching up his hand to offer something to Kek. He took the two items from Ryo's hand and stared at them a moment, not quite understanding their purpose at first. His lower intestines writhed with a pleasant, but slightly queasy feeling as if they deciphered the significance of the items before Kek's brain had a chance. Kek blinked at the bottle of lube and the latex condom packet. He'd only intended a lick, a bite, but he could hardly call that stealing when Ryo lay in his bed, offering more. It'd be like stealing a pinch of salt when the host already had the table spread for a feast. It made the act childish and unnecessary. Kek scowled. He didn't like it. It felt like Ryo had a straight razor to his kidney again, a blade sharper than his knife.
He thought about throwing the lube and condom on the ground. Thought about it and thought about it, but the spray of white hair across the bedspread made it hard for Kek to do anything but stare. The strands flayed out like angel wings across Ryo's back. Curiosity overrode Kek's pride. He released Ryo's hair and grabbed the hem of his comforter. He pulled the material down slow, exposing Ryo's bare form centimeter by centimeter.
The entire time Ryo didn't speak or move. He lay in his bed on his elbows and with his legs spread out to make it easier for Kek to take him. Ryo didn't even move his eyes. He kept his gaze fixed on his pillow, as if his body were no living thing but a sculpture carved from the whitest marble.
Kek closed his eyes, but no matter how many times he told himself to walk away his instinct screamed for him to stay. He stood, a last chance to flee, but instead he unclasped his belt and slid his pants to the carpet. He was a creature created from Marik's instinct and emotion, having experience with neither discipline nor restraint; instead, he fumbled with himself until he was hard. The he worked the condom from its wrapper, hoping Ryo didn't notice his ineptitude.
Kek was a virgin, but he wouldn't admit it out loud. When he was Marik, there was never time for anything but revenge. As Kek, there was never time for anything but survival. Once in a dark alley, two men tried to take what Ryo currently offered, but Kek had snapped the neck of the first and stabbed the second with the man's own switchblade – that Kek now kept in his back pocket. He tried not to think about that. He rolled the condom down his erection. When it looked about right, as far as he could tell, he poured the cold, clear gel over the latex covering him.
Ryo stayed quiet and still.
Kek frowned, having trouble pushing himself inside. The lube dripped off his erection, spreading a greasy puddle on the bedsheets, but Ryo's body wouldn't yield. Grabbing Ryo's hips, Kek shoved hard until the pressure surrounded his phallus. He sighed at the sensation, but Ryo made a stilted, pained noise. Kek opened his mouth to apologize, but then remembered that he'd only wanted a taste of Ryo's skin. This was all Ryo's fault, and Ryo was the one that handed Kek the condom instead of asking Kek to bed, so if Ryo suffered while Kek worked out schematics alone then so be it.
Ryo shifted up on his hands and knees to make it easier for Kek to move. Kek kept his hands on Ryo's slender hips and started thrusting. He gasped and shuddered, going fast. He tried to slow down, but after a moment he'd find himself speeding his pace again. Everything inside him felt like it climbed, higher and higher, until threatening to break some abstract threshold he couldn't define in words. Kek stopped before that breaking sensation sent him spiraling out of control. He leaned against Ryo's back, panting hard.
Ryo stayed quiet and still. Always quiet and always still, and Kek hated it. He wanted a reaction – needed – needed a reaction from Ryo – something to indicate that Kek wasn't doing it wrong. Not that there was anything to sex except in-and-out-and-in-and-out, but he felt obligated to make sure the experience was enjoyed by them both. He didn't know why he cared (after all, it was all Ryo's fault), but something inside him did care.
He'd stayed still for too long, resting against Ryo and trying to calm his nerves. Ryo shifted as if to break away, assuming Kek had finished, but Kek slammed forward to let Ryo know he was still hard. That drew a gasp from Ryo that made everything from Kek's navel to his toes tingle. He returned to his regular pace, but as soon as Ryo seemed to settle into the rhythm he slammed forward again, and again pulled a gasp from Ryo's mouth. It was a soft noise, but it was something. Each time he hiked his hips deeper into Ryo, the other male gasped. Eventually, Ryo reached in between his legs, timidly stroking himself. Kek shortened the intervals between hard thrusts, and as his movements grew more intense, so did Ryo's strokes until Ryo arched his back and clenched his teeth as he came onto the bedsheets. As Ryo climaxed, a half-chocked, strangled noise escaped from his mouth. The sound of it thrilled Kek and he grunted as he finished himself.
He almost dropped to the bed, almost curled up next to Ryo to fall asleep, but it was as if Kek remembered he was suppose to run out of the room and that's what he did. He felt bashful and it bothered him. Why was he nervous now that it was over? It had to do with the way Ryo arched his back and lost a sliver of that quiet, still control he'd maintained. It had to do with how Kek wanted to embrace that moment more than his own climax, and in turn, embrace Ryo as well. He didn't understand his emotions, so he wanted to escape.
He grabbed his rucksack and had it swung around his shoulders before he realized that he wasn't wearing pants. He dropped his bag and sat down on the couch. He left them in Ryo's room. He refused to go back and get them, unable to bear the sight of Ryo at the moment; he refused to leave without them, owning only three pair of pants. Kek growled and found the bathrobe Ryo lent him for his shower. He wrapped it around his body and flung himself on the couch, falling asleep as soon as the blankets covered him.
On the streets Kek sometimes slept but never rested. The cold of the concrete slipped into his clothes and numbed his ass when he sat with his back against a wall and his forehead propped against his knees. Kek always had to watch out for the police, who'd arrest him for vagrancy, or other homeless people, who'd steal his knapsack – or worse – if they caught him off guard. Ryo's sofa was the first true opportunity to rest and dream since he'd escaped from the Shadows. He dreamed that he held Ryo while surrounded by stars and that Ryo sang until the darkness brought dawn. When Kek opened his eyes, he saw a tray of food Ryo left for him sitting on the coffee table. His pants sat next to the tray, folded into a precise square.
Kek sat up and rubbed grit from the corners of his eyes. By the sun sneaking through the windows, Kek guessed it was near noon. He'd never slept that long before. He studied the food in front of him; water and juice, a small ceramic pot filled with green tea gone cold from sitting, bacon, scrambled eggs, and toast with butter and jam set out on the side. Even cold, the food brought saliva to Kek's mouth. He forced himself to eat slower than he wanted to, just as he had the night before. Most the food he ate was prepackaged from stores, something he didn't need to cook or use silverware for since he didn't have a kitchen. Everything Ryo made tasted incredible, even the cold tea. He saved the toast for last, remembering what Ryo said about needing something sweet at the end of each meal. Ryo'd given him both raspberry preserves and lemon curd and Kek swirled them together on the toast on top of a thick layer of real butter.
Half way through his second piece, tears welled up in Kek's eyes. He stared at his pants, clean and folded, and at the tray of food Ryo gave him. Why would that make him cry? He associated tears with victims. Marik cried, during the initiation that created Kek. Ishizu cried, when Kek carved the Pharaoh's memories off of their father's back and killed him. Sometimes the people he mugged cried, from fear. Kek understood those tears, but he didn't understand his own. He knew it had to do with his dream, and what happened last night, and the pants folded on the coffee table, but he couldn't connect the events or draw meaning for them. Instead, he wiped his eyes and finished his toast and took another shower because he was sticking from jam and the night before.
Kek spent the next few hours walking through Ryo's apartment. Everything had a place, from the video games organized alphabetically on their rack to the Monster World figurines displayed in cases on bookshelves. Kek decided to wash the tray and breakfast dishes he used. In the kitchen he noticed a note on the fridge. Ryo wrote to Kek that it'd be nice if he stayed for dinner, but if he had to go, that Ryo prepared some sandwiches for Kek to take with him. Kek opened the fridge door and saw three sandwiches, two apples, and two boxes of pocky sitting up front where Kek would see it all. He took the food and carried it back to the coffee table in the living room, but he didn't pack it. Instead, he set half to the side, and began eating the other half – hungry again. He ate two sandwiches and the apple before Ryo walked through the door.
Ryo's expression lit up when he saw Kek sitting on the couch. It reminded Kek of the sunrise in his dream. He gestured to the food he'd saved and Ryo sat down and unwrapped the last sandwich. He studied Kek a moment before taking a polite bite of the food. "I was afraid you'd be gone."
"I slept too late." Kek thought about why he was still there. He'd planned on running away, but his visit felt unfinished. He hadn't stolen anything yet, and he needed to. A taste was no longer good enough since that was something Ryo was willing to give him. Kek didn't want any of Ryo's games or figurines. The only item Ryo owned that Kek could use was the straight razor, but that belonged to the Spirit so the thought of having it irked Kek, just as the Spirit in the Ring had irked him. He decided what he wanted to steal from Ryo was the thing Ryo tried to guard the most – his voice, his sound, his reaction – Kek wanted to hear a sincere, loud, lust-ridden moan before he left and that require him staying another night.
"If you're that tired, maybe you should stay one more night. I don't mind." Ryo smiled.
Kek smirked back at him. Ryo made it too easy for him to try and implement his plan. He wondered if that meant Ryo enjoyed the previous night, but Ryo acted like nothing out of the ordinary happened so Kek wouldn't bring their bed-play up in conversation either. They talked about games, which somehow led to Dark Games, which somehow led to the occult in general. Kek discovered Ryo owned a morbid appetite for the grotesque and macabre. He told him stories of things he'd seen in the Shadows, things that would send a normal person screaming, but Ryo leaned closer, eyes barely blinking as he absorbed every sentence. They ate menchi-katsu for dinner and dango for dessert. Again, Kek helped clean the kitchen when they finished, and again they played video games until Ryo said goodnight.
Kek waited awhile. His belly felt like maggots filled him close to bursting, squirming inside him and down his intestines. He kept combing his hair with his fingers, pacing and sitting on the couch in turns. Finally, Kek slipped out of his clothes and into the bathrobe (for some reason he felt dumb walking through Ryo's house naked). Ryo's bedroom door squeaked as he pushed it open. As the night before, Ryo lay on his stomach with his face a breath away from his pillow. This time the condom and lube sat on the edge of the bed, easy for Kek to see.
That night, Kek didn't push in right away. He poured lube over his mid finger and lined Ryo's entrance with a thick coat of gel. Ryo shivered a little, but Kek didn't know if it was from sensation or the chill of the silicon. He pushed his finger inside, hoping some of the lube might grease Ryo's hole in the process. He experimented with one finger, then two, adding more lubrication as he progressed. When he felt like he couldn't waste anymore time, he grabbed himself and slipped inside. It was a little easier this time, Ryo didn't make any pained noises and that pleased Kek. He started slow and worked his way to a steady tempo. After some time passed, Kek tried thrusting his hips hard like he did the night before. He got a huff of breath out of Ryo, but Kek could tell that Ryo held back. Kek thrust, hiked, pushed, and stabbed himself into Ryo's body, working himself into a frenzy, but never getting anything past a hard breath out of Ryo. Kek clenched his teeth and growled, pushing harder and harder, trying to get a response. Ryo tightened his grip on the bedsheets, but Kek couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or discomfort, so he slowed back down.
His mind wracked through his memories of the night before, for anything else he could try before giving up and simply leaving in failure. Maybe Ryo stayed quiet because Kek wasn't any good at sex, maybe he was but Ryo just wouldn't acknowledge it, either way, it drove Kek insane. More than anything he needed to draw Ryo out of his armor and receive some form of acknowledgment. Kek thought of how Ryo finished the night before, his flawless back arching as he climaxed. He noticed Ryo stroking himself again and Kek thought of one last idea to try. He reached below Ryo's belly and slipped his hand under Ryo's shaft. The action caught the other male off guard and Ryo let go of himself.
Kek's right had was still slick with lube, so he glided his palm and fingers up and back down Ryo's erection. He timed his thrusts and strokes together and noticed Ryo's heavy breathing growing heavier. Kek squeezed, and flourished his palm up and down against Ryo's shaft. Touching Ryo made Kek light-headed and a few soft moans escaped his own lips as he leaned closer to press as much of himself against his lover as possible.
"Ah," Ryo gasped, so quiet Kek almost missed it.
He allowed himself to move just a little faster, both hips and hand. Ryo's fingers dug harder into the sheets, but Kek was sure that the gesture was from pleasure and not discomfort. Ryo rocked his hips back, gently, barely moving at all, but it was enough to scramble Kek's world into a kaleidoscope of the bedroom's dark, night-colors and their heavy breathing. He knew Ryo was almost done by the way his shaft and head swelled tight against the skin as Kek stroked him. This time Ryo tilted his head up a little. "Ah!" It was more another gasp than a proper scream, but it encouraged Kek. He felt Ryo pulse and throb against his palm and then the heat of his semen as it shot onto the sheets and spilled onto Kek's hand. "Ahh!"
The last sound was almost something more than a gasp, almost a moan, and the thought made Kek moan as he ejaculated into the condom. Ryo collapsed face-first into his pillow. Kek traced his fingers down Ryo's spine, admiring how unadulterated the skin on his back looked. He slipped out and disposed of the condom. Staring at the bed, Kek wondered what it would feel like to lay next to Ryo, but his nerves failed him when he tried to step closer, so he slipped the robe back on and went to the sofa.
The next morning Kek awoke to sounds in the kitchen. He yawned and stretched, and made sure his robe covered all the essential parts before stumbling into the kitchen and finding Ryo preparing breakfast.
Ryo glanced over his shoulder, hair up and out of his face. "Good morning. I'm off today so I thought I'd make a proper breakfast."
Proper breakfast consisted of tofu, fish, miso soup, tamago with rice, and umeboshi. They ate, cleaned up, and then Ryo started bustling around the house, cleaning. Kek followed him, not sure why Ryo cleaned so much when his apartment already looked perfect. They talked a little about nothing in particular. The more they didn't talk about their nightly meetings, the more Kek wanted to. He worked his ass off to get three soft ahs, the least Ryo could do was give him some acknowledgment, or even criticism.
Kek sat on the sofa and watched Ryo fold laundry, his hair still up. Kek's mouth set into a firm line. "Why?" he asked when he couldn't stand it any longer.
Ryo looked up at him, confused. "So they don't get wrinkled?"
Kek clenched his teeth at Ryo's answer. He stood up. "At night. Why?"
"Oh." Ryo looked back down and continued to fold laundry.
Kek gave Ryo a moment in case he was puzzling out an answer, but Ryo kept folding clothes as if Kek never asked the question. Kek walked up to Ryo until they stood centimeters apart. "Why, Ryo?"
Ryo shrugged, making a point not to look up. He wasn't folding anymore, he held a towel and kept creasing the same edge with his fingers.
Kek needed a better answer. He grabbed Ryo's shoulders and shook him. Ryo looked frightened and that was an expression he wasn't used to seeing on the other male's face. It made Kek angry, although not necessarily at Ryo, just angry. He screamed, "dammit, answer me!"
"I'm bored!" Ryo shouted back, eyes squeezed shut.
Kek stopped shaking him, blinking at the answer. "Bored?"
"I thought you'd understand," Ryo whispered. "Just a few years ago I'd wake up every morning never knowing where I'd be, or what happened while I was knocked out, and every game we played could kill us, and it was awful and horrifying, but now . . ." He looked around the living room and shrugged. "A part time summer job, college in the fall, folding laundry, that's somehow worse than waking in the hospital with a knife wound I don't remember getting. When I saw you . . ." Ryo shrugged again, unable to put his thoughts into words. "It reminded me of when things weren't so painfully ordinary."
The worst of it all was that Kek did understand. Dark Games, gold crafted from blood, Shadows, power, knowing that a single misstep may end your existence, it wasn't a good life, but it was more of a life than sleeping behind a trash can in an alley in hopes that no one noticed you. Nevertheless, something tight hurt Kek's chest when he thought of Ryo using him as a distraction. Was that why he was quiet in bed? To stay unattached? That should have suited Kek, but it made him feel hallow and aching inside.
Ryo sniffed, his face crumpled in grief. "Are you going to leave now?"
"Should I?"
Ryo shook his head no, but didn't speak. The tremble in Ryo's lip and the lines creased around his eyes told Kek that words would break him. Kek felt a little the same. He realized he couldn't be a mere distraction, not with the look on Ryo's face. Why did he even care? Kek scratched his scalp. Trying to think, but the ache in his chest made thinking hard and the look on Ryo's face made him want to grab the other male and . . . what? He didn't know. He didn't think he wanted to do anything other than be close to Ryo, pressed together close.
Kek sighed. "I don't know." He went to take a shower. He didn't particularly need one. Two showers in two days, he hadn't been that clean since he shared a body with Marik, but Kek wanted time to think and be alone, so he sat on the freshly scrubbed tiles of the shower floor and let the hot water scrap against his skin.
Kek realized they played a sort of game with each other, touching but not feeling. Ryo didn't move or make noise; Kek ran away as soon as it was over. Then an odd idea came to him, the night before he tried to do everything more intense, thrusts and speed, but it was the lighter touch of his hand that made Ryo gasp. Kek stood up and turned off the water, drying and dressing. When he walked to the living room, Ryo's eye stared at him, wide and anxious. "One more night," he muttered. Maybe more, if his idea worked, but he'd give it at least one more night to test his hypothesis.
Ryo nodded. He still looked sad, but Kek didn't know how to ask him about it, so they both went through the day with rounds of silence and small talk until Ryo asked what Kek wanted for dinner. Kek stared at him and shook his head, never in his life had someone asked him that question.
"Pick something." Ryo smiled at him
"I don't know." Kek stared at his bare feet. "Everything you make is good."
That made Ryo's cheek flush and he looked the other way as if not looking at Kek meant that Kek couldn't see Ryo's blush. Ryo walked into the kitchen and Kek followed him. He took a book out of a cupboard and pushed it into Kek's hands. "It's one of my favorite cookbooks. Everything has pictures, so you can pick something that looks tasty."
Kek didn't want the responsibility, but didn't see a way out of it so he sat at the table and flipped through the heavy book. "This?"
"Vegetable stew?"
"Is that a bad choice?" Kek flipped to the next page.
"No." Ryo covered Kek's hands with his own, preventing him from turning more pages. Ryo flipped back to the picture of stew. "No, that's a good one. I don't need a recipe, though. I've made it enough to wing it." Ryo turned to collect vegetables out of the refrigerator and chop them.
With his hair still up, the nape of Ryo's neck showed. Kek found himself staring at it, daydreaming about the taste he never did manage to steal. He wondered what Ryo would do if he snuck behind him and pressed his lips to his neck, but the thought made Kek's cheeks hot and he didn't have the guts to try.
"Want to help me make the bread?" Ryo asked over his shoulder.
He wanted to do anything that didn't involve staring at Ryo. His imagination was going a little wild with areas he wanted to taste. Why didn't he try at night? He couldn't, not any more than Ryo could call out or moan. He stood by Ryo at the counter and followed instructions, adding water, salt, and oil to the flour and kneading the mixture to a smooth dough.
Ryo pointed. "Now add extra flour to the counter so it doesn't stick."
Kek obeyed. He smirked. "I could make this flour disappear."
"Oh? Like magic?"
"Yeah." He grabbed a fist full of flour and dropped it on top of Ryo's head. The white powder blended into his hair.
Ryo's mouth dropped open. He blinked for a few seconds and Kek wondered if Ryo was going to scold him. Ryo stood straighter, brushed some stray flour off the shoulder of his shirt, smearing it, and looked at Kek. "Okay. It's on." He grabbed the entire bag, stood on tip-toe, and dumped the flour on the crown of Kek's head.
Kek started laughing, a surprising noise to him because it was free and without condition or malice. He scooped two handfuls of flour off the floor and tossed them up at Ryo. Some went into Ryo's mouth, he spat it out, crouching down to grab more flour. They stayed on their knees, scrabbling on the floor for enough flour to smear onto their clothes and faces, both of them breathless with laughter.
Kek placed his powdered hands on Ryo's cheeks, staring into the dark universe behind his eyes. Kek leaned forward a little, but before he could kiss Ryo the other male stood up and grabbed his chopsticks to stir the onions in the pot. "You should preheat the oven for the bread."
Kek sat in the flour and stared up at Ryo. "Why?" It took all his courage to ask the one word. Why could he fuck Ryo but not kiss him? Why was Ryo more emotionally detached than even Kek himself?
"Because if you don't, the bread won't rise."
He didn't force it. Sighing, Kek preheated the oven and began cleaning the counters and sweeping the floor. Once the bread sat in the oven, Kek took a second shower and wore Ryo's bath robe while he put his clothes in the washer. Ryo showered while the soup simmered. They both ate in robes at the kitchen table.
"The bread's good." Ryo smiled.
His smile reminded Kek of the bread, warm and sweet and something he wanted to taste, but that made Kek sad because when he tried, Ryo pulled away. He realized that's what he'd have to steal – a kiss.
He waited until Ryo went to bed, giving Ryo enough time to set everything up as he did each night. Kek stood and removed his robe, folding it and laying it on the sofa. He changed into the Khaki's and black tank top he came into the world with, a patch now on the left knee thanks to Ryo's mending. Kek walked into the room, turning on the light as he entered. He noticed that Ryo's body jerked a little when the light came on, but Ryo didn't say anything. Kek walked to the foot of the bed, took the condom and lube, and tossed them over his shoulder. The condom fluttered back to the ground and the lubrication landed with a thud somewhere behind him.
Ryo turned his head, staring at Kek with his mouth opened a little from surprise. Kek sat on the side of the bed, pulling Ryo up to a sitting position and swaddling the blankets tight around Ryo's body. He wanted Ryo covered, wanted Ryo aware that their clothes were going to stay on. Ryo looked afraid again, but didn't speak. Kek growled to break the damning silence ringing in the room. He pinched Ryo's chin with thumb and pointer finger and pushed their lips together.
It was wrong; he did it wrong. Their mouths sat touching, but there was no feeling in the act. They sat like mannequins in a pose. Kek pulled back, eyes consuming every detail of Ryo's face. He drew closer to try again at the same moment Ryo finally opened his mouth to protest. Kek's lips dragged against Ryo's bottom lip and the sensation caught blue-hot fire to his nerves. He repeated the motion, dragging instead of pressing. He did it a third time, softer. The third time he pinched his lips together over Ryo's bottom lip and a moan slipped from Ryo's half opened mouth.
Kek swooned at the sound; his pulse stampeded through his veins. Ryo punched Kek's shoulder as if angry, but then he grabbed both of Kek's shoulders as if afraid he'd stop. Kek wasn't going to stop. He was too busy playing with technique. He kissed Ryo's bottom lip, then his top, then each corner, recording Ryo's varied reactions in his mind. Kek pulled and licked and sucked and brushed their mouths together. If he found something he liked, or something that made Ryo coo like a dove, then he stayed with that for awhile before moving on to something different. They kissed for long over an hour before Kek pulled away and left the room with his lips searing from friction.
At the couch, he changed back into his bathrobe and finished himself off with quick strokes of his hand. It took less than two minutes with the feeling of Ryo's lips still burning into his own. He used tissue to prevent a mess and afterward, Kek fell asleep and dreamed that he and Ryo still kissed.