"Who does he think he is?" he snarled, throwing his work clothes haphazardly onto the chair. "I don't need protection! Least of all from Barclay!"
The man had needed someone to listen to him, to share his pain, and Ryo had offered. Despite the past advances, despite the fact that Barclay might still be after him – which he doubted – Ryo had been drawn to him. Maybe it was his relation to Dee. Those two were more alike than different anyway.
Did Dee think he was the only one suffering? Did he think he had a monopoly on it?
Barclay had been thrown into cold water, too. He was trying to swim just like Dee. Sure, he was 'only' an ally, but he had also found his brother again, after thirty years, and it had turned out to be one of his subordinates who couldn't stand him.
Ryo sighed and slumped onto the bed. He was angry at Dee, but he was also angry at himself. He should have handled this differently, but his temper had simply exploded. It had been the last straw to break his back and he had lashed out.
He wondered where Dee was now. Should he call him at home? Try and talk to him? He needed to explain, but he also didn't want to further stoke the fire. What had happened after he had left in such a display of fury?
Ryo fell back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling, sighing softly.
A knock startled him out of his meditation of white ceilings and life in general. He left the bed and walked to his door, peering through the spy hole. Surprise and shock registered.
"Dee?" he blurted as he ripped open the door.
Damn, he looked bad. Tie askew, shirt rumpled, pants crinkled, his face haggard and drawn. The dark hair was the same mess, completely tousled, and the green eyes…
Ryo swallowed as he saw the emotions, the open pain, in there.
"Dee…" he repeated.
Those intense eyes looked at him, begging silently, pleading with him. "I'm sorry," Dee whispered finally.
Ryo grabbed him and pulled him inside, noting the shivers racing through the slender body. The suit was damp, as was the hair. It was probably raining. The forecast had been a bit unspecific whether to expect a thunder storm or just mild rain.
"I didn't mean it," Dee went on, the tremors increasing as he was maneuvered into the living room. "I just saw him and you… and I knew he wanted you… and I just lost it…"
The voice grew desperate and Ryo shivered with the intensity of the emotions. Dee's eyes were like a green, turmoiled sea, the waves crashing into each other.
"I love you," Latener told him, voice cracking. "I don't want to be alone again…"
"God, Dee," he murmured and hugged him to his chest. "You won't."
He smelled the alcohol, the stale smoke, and he knew where Dee had been the last hours. The tremors grew and Ryo pulled back, hearing a muffled whimper from his partner.
"I'm not going anywhere. We just have to get you dry and warm, okay?"
A nod was the answer and Dee followed him to the bedroom. There was nothing erotic about undressing the stricken man, about getting him into a warm sweater and sweat pants. Ryo was methodic, trying to rub some warmth into the cool, trembling limbs, but he had little success.
"He told me everything," Dee murmured as if to himself. "He showed me… the pictures…"
Of your family, Ryo supplied silently. You met your sisters…
"He told me everything," Dee repeated like in trance. "God, Ryo, why did it have to be him? Why him of all the people out there?"
The last was a desperate cry and Ryo saw the unshed tears fill his lover's eyes. He simply pulled him onto the bed with him, holding him close.
"I don't know," he whispered. "But it is. Ross Barclay is your brother. You have a family, Dee."
"I don't want it."
Ryo gently stroked over the tousled hair, smiling. "Well, you got it."
Ryo sat with Dee in his arms, back against the large pillows of his bed, cradling the man he loved in his arms. Dee's fingers were clenched into his pullover, holding on for dear life. The fine, blue material was in a strangle-hold, stretched out of shape. He didn't care. His whole focus was on this one individual.
It was as if Ryo was suddenly Dee's anchor, his only hold in a turmoiled sea that were his emotions. So much had happened, so much hadn't been worked out yet, and on top of it, Dee had now seen the proof of his blood relationship with Barclay. Ryo carded his fingers through the midnight black strands and whispered softly, reassuring Dee that he was there. He wouldn't leave; Dee was safe here. Everything would be okay.
In response, the hands tightened possessively and Dee buried closer, a dry sob escaping his lips. It wasn't like in the past, when such a gesture from Ryo, the gentleness, the openness, would have drawn Dee to pounce and kiss him with abandon. That was a matter of their past. Two years of courting, Ryo mused. Not any courting he had ever experienced, but Dee's way of getting closer. Testing the waters, pulling back, trying another strategy, once again standing back when Ryo denied him what he sought the most. But in the end, they had found a common base. Not the wild, unrestrained way Dee seemed to embrace; not the shy, reserved behavior of Ryo either. They had met in the middle and both men had changed throughout those two years.
Changed more than that… a lot more than that, Ryo thought sadly.
Dee was still trembling, the minute shivers racing down his lithe form, and he tried to bury himself in Ryo's clothes, his body, his very presence.
"I'm here," Ryo whispered. "I'm not leaving."
Dee made a strained little sound, a moan of a pain that wasn't physical at all. Ryo wrapped his arms more securely around the other man, over his head, his shoulders, his back. Leaning back into the pillows, he let Dee's weight push them down. Placing a reassuring, loving kiss on the black head, he continued his caresses.
"I'm here," he repeated. "I'm here…"
So much had happened, had eaten away at the strong, unbreakable shield Dee wore around himself every day. Dee Latener, invincible. A man who could neither be harmed by words nor hurt by weapons. A man who stood up to whatever came his way, met it head-on, and never broke down.
But there was also the Dee who lived underneath that brash exterior. The Dee who spent every October 15th at the grave of his adopted father, Jesse Latener. The Dee who visited the orphanage he had grown up in, who loved the Mother, and who took care of the orphans, playing with them. A Dee who claimed he hated kids and still spent so much of his free time making sure those at the orphanage didn't go the wrong way. A Dee who could be so kind and gentle, so loving and caring.
Ryo had fallen in love with that man. He had looked past the brashness, the wildness, and he had seen the changes in Dee's behavior around him. Dee had taken his rejections to heart, had slowed down, had actually opened up little by little, had shown his own shyness and doubt, his confusion as to why he was so badly attracted to one Ryo McLane…
"I love you," Ryo said softly. "I love you, Dee Latener. And I'll be here for you."
Dee's answer was another shiver, wrapping himself more firmly around his partner. Ryo ran a soothing hand over the muscular back.
He wouldn't leave. This was their future and he know he belonged here.
Suddenly the door opened and a pair of blue eyes in a dark face met his. Ryo's expression settled into one of warning and begging, hoping Bikky would understand. He didn't need his young charge to make a scene now. Dee was fragile as it was. Having the teen assault him would mostly break him completely.
Please, Bikky. Not now…
He had been out all night, hanging around with Carol and their friends,
and he knew he was in trouble with Ryo. His adopted father was usually
quite lenient, though he was far from the pushover he had first believed
him to be. Ryo wasn't the tough as nails cop Dee pretended to be. He was
softer, caring, tender, but there was a core of steel Bikky had experienced
a few times before, like when Ryo had caught him planning a shop-lift.
No, he wasn't a push-over. He was a do-gooder, he saw the world from
a sometimes rather naïve angle in Bikky's eyes, but he was all right.
He was a cop, a detective, and you didn't make that rank by being a softy
through and through.
Sneaking back into the apartment he was surprised to notice that the
lights were still on. It was past midnight already. The door to the bedroom
was slightly ajar and there were lights, too. If Ryo was in bed, why were
the hallway lights on? And the living room's? Still on tip-toes, Bikky
went over to the bedroom and snuck a look.
Bikky's eyes widened at the intimate scene on the bed, the way Dee
was holding on to Ryo, was apparently nuzzling up to him, and he was about
to yell bloody murder to give the jerk a good scare, maybe get his blood
pressure up, when he met Ryo's eyes – and he stopped.
Something was wrong.
Very, very wrong.
Ryo didn't look embarrassed by his adopted son catching them in flagranti.
Actually, Bikky thought, there was something infinitely sad and compassionate
in those dark orbs. He blinked and looked at the pair from a different
angle.
Dee was cuddling up to Ryo, but not in any way Bikky would see as sexual.
He was… Was he shivering? Dee's head was buried, turned away from prying
eyes, hiding against Ryo. His hair was in disarray, and the way Ryo was
stroking over his back it had a touch of… soothing caress.
Ryo's eyes spoke volumes all of a sudden, asking him not to do anything
stupid, pleading with him, actually.
Bikky's features settled into a decisive mask and he nodded. Whatever
was going on, this wasn't two men making out. Something was wrong with
Dee. He had never seen the older man like this, so completely vulnerable
and seeking comfort.
Closing the door, Bikky stood dumbfound for a moment, contemplating
what to do. What could have happened? Why was Dee suddenly in Ryo's arms
and not trying to kiss him through the mattress?
Finally he walked into the kitchen and filled the water-heater. Pulling
two mugs from the cupboard, he waited for the water to boil and finally
poured it over the tea bags in the mugs.
What had happened? he thought again, the scene in the bedroom not leaving
him alone. There had been no blood, no visible wounds, and both Ryo and
Dee didn't look like either had been to the hospital in the last hours.
What had happened that Dee Latener, hard-assed cop, broke down so completely
in Ryo's arms?
Still pondering, he threw away the tea bags and walked back to the
bedroom, mugs in hand. He silently opened the door and was met by Ryo's
emotion-filled eyes once more. He raised the mugs in a silent offering
and padded over to the night stand.
Dee had stopped shivering and he lay limply in Ryo's arms. His eyes
were closed, his breathing slow and regular. He was probably asleep.
"Thank you, Bikky," Ryo said softly, meaning every word.
Bikky gave him a brief smile, then nodded at the blanket at the foot
of the bed. Ryo returned the smile and the blond boy pulled it up over
Dee. Maybe he was only thirteen, but life on the streets had let him grow
up quite quickly. Something was going on here, had been happening for a
while now, and it had come down to this.
Ryo arranged it a little and finally reached for the mug, sipping at
the hot liquid.
"I'll be in my room," Bikky told him quietly.
"Thank you."
It were more than just two words. The world was relayed through them
and Bikky swallowed. Whatever was going on, and he would find out, it was
big. Big enough to let Dee break down and to have Ryo openly worried for
the jerk.
Going into his room, closing the door behind him, Bikky pondered what
to do. For now, not much. He would wait.