Phantom and Angel - part 9

"Leon?" D's voice roused the dozing human. Leon's eyelids struggled to open, and his head turned lethargically in the direction of the voice. D was standing just inside the doorway, with what looked like a small, square, black...square. As D was once again standing in front of him, Leon's vision cleared enough to make out that a folded set of black silk pajamas were what the black square was made of.

"Thanks." Leon reached his hands over T-Chan's back uncertainly toward the black silk bundle, and D somehow transferred them into his hands without touching him. T-Chan backed off of Leon's lap to the side of his leg and studied the detective's face…which allowed Leon to rest his silk-filled hands in his lap.

Once again, D's fingers were at the front of Leon's shirt, managing the buttons with purposeful tugs now that he didn't need to worry about waking Leon.

The detective glanced down briefly with glazed eyes, but just didn't have anything left to put up any kind of protest. He simply sat still while trying to stay awake, losing the battle to keep his eyes open.

Unable to resist, D tsked softly. "Of all the days to chose something besides your usual t-shirts…" His complaint didn't hide the teasing in his voice.

Even as tired as he was, Leon was still able to manage a slight scowl. "There's nothing 'usual' about my t-shirts." His feigned indignant tone was hardly effective with the note of boyish whine, or with the lashes of his closed eyes and faint pout making his face seem just a little closer to androgynous.

"Of course not…whatever was I thinking…" D's pleasant croon almost made Leon smile, probably would have, if Leon wasn't succumbing again to exhaustion, although D still caught the slight flexing at the sides of the dear detective's mouth.

Now that his eyes were closed, D's movements were sensed, brokenly, causing Leon to feel mildly disoriented as his mind automatically kept tally of the surrounding elements. The faint coat of sweat on his arms and face had gone completely unnoticed, until it made him aware of the soft waft of air from the open bedroom door. Open door! It was almost reminiscent of a B vampire movie when Leon's adrenaline kicked in again. His leg muscles tensed and pulled him to standing upright, his forearm found and pressed against D's chest to push him back. "I don't remember you locking the front door when we came back in." His voice was low and airy. He started towards the bedroom doorway more like he was in a trance than purposefully alert.

D caught the man's arm gently. "I was gone for longer than it may have seemed when I left to get you the night clothing." He'd successfully stopped Leon soon enough that he was able to keep a hold of him and take the opportunity to turn down the bedclothes. He'd been wondering how he would go about doing that, oddly enough.

Leon turned his head to face him, taking a longer than usual moment to process what D had just said. He nodded his understanding mutely, and remained standing where he was.

Closing the distance between him, D finished unbuttoning Leon's shirt. "My dear detective…whatever am I to do with you?"

Leon raised an eyebrow innocently. "Feed me lots of scrambled eggs?" The suggestion was cloaked in subtle taunting.

D was visibly bemused, knowing that there was an insinuated meaning… then his eyes narrowed with playful menace. "Are you certain that you want your eggs scrambled?" D asked coyly.

Leon's eyes went wide with consternation. "You snipe at my 'obscene language', and then go and say something so—lewd?

D's face fell, his lashes fanning downward just as he was parting his lips to speak.

With an entirely new boldness, Leon moved in even closer to D, placing a fingertip almost directly onto the other man's lips to silence him. "Me thinks 'tis not so much the name of those which come calling, rather their visits numbered and fineness of garb that does, perhaps, more heavily weigh." The strange choice of words was whispered almost seductively.

Caught off guard, D stilled completely, eyes examining Leon as if he hadn't' seen the man in years, then, he reached to carefully brush away the finger from his lips and, ever so gently, take the man by the chin. "Who are you—and what have you done with MY dear detective?"