PSOH "Honeymoon"
Rated: R, NC-17
Pairing: Leon X D
I am not feeling well and am thus posting, cause I can write with a fever, apparently. I thought they should have a honeymoon, of sorts, since I didn't think living together would be all that easy for them.
Hope you like it; please leave me a comment or 2.
Honeymoon
In the first few days, it still seemed like a dream. Leon would touch things to make sure they were real - bamboo birdcages; the tea table (a Victorian monstrosity with legs carved like lions and an checkerboard inlay in ebony and marble); the bed that he woke in; and D, who would always pause whatever he was doing and smile. It was hard to believe that he was here at last; in fact he only believed it when he was deep inside his lover, gloved in liquid heat, watching the pale eyelids flutter and the frantic hands reach out for him, wanting him closer yet. Then it was real and true and not some fantasy…at least for that moment.
Sometimes it felt just like the old Shop. The same old cast-of-characters greeted him every morning, with one exception, of course - young Chris, who was no doubt sleeping peacefully while Leon drank his morning Oolong, back in America with his uncle and aunt. Leon would be eating toast and wishing for coffee, at least in the morning, and scanning the paper, ‘cause he could follow the pictures and had started to recognize a few characters here and there. But then he’d reach out, something he’d never dared do in the old Shop, and tug D into his lap and kiss him until they were both languorous and melting. On the fifth morning he could not wait, plastering D up against the wall of the parlor and reducing his willing captive to helpless whimpering, till D begged and pleaded and wrapped those silky legs around Leon’s waist, shoving himself toward Leon’s cock like a madman. That made Leon smile triumphantly, ‘cause it wasn’t just him, and there was something he could do that no one else could.
D was hot and wet and slippery and their clothes were half-off and hanging when Leon finally plunged in. D hissed and clenched all around him, till Leon thought he’d go right that moment and it was only with herculean effort that he held off. His poor baby must be sore - they’d done it that morning, and last night…and in the middle of the night, too, when Leon woke to find himself deep in D’s throat, and he’d ending up cumming twice…and making D scream that second time. He tried to be gentle this time, but it was hard. D smelled so good, like sex and cinnamon, and he quivered deliciously with every movement of Leon within. It was the best sex he’d ever had, the best imaginable, and Leon was awed every single time. He was awed again that morning, and thankful, and D felt hot tears sliding down his neck when Leon buried his face there and came once again.
They left the breakfast dishes on the table and went back to bed. It was by no means the first meal that had been interrupted.
Around the tenth day, Leon remembered his duffel, forlorn and forgotten at the shipping office. He could use some fresh clothes, though D seemed to have some of his in that endless closet, and his birth certificate was there, along with his passport. But he didn’t want to go get it, not if it meant leaving. He would never leave, not till they carried him out in a pinewood box.
D had to come with him; insisted on it, in fact, so they hopped the Yamanote line to Yokohama on a beautiful spring morning. Leon held his hand, not letting go, and D thought it was silly and somehow very sweet. He didn’t take it back, though people stared and giggled when they noticed and it was hard to manage the ticket machine and turnstile with only one hand.
They stopped to have a late breakfast in the Shinjuku train station on the way, ‘cause their own had been abandoned half-way through D’s convincing Leon that he really should go get his stuff. D realized he was starving and wobbly with it. They hadn’t had a lot of sleep, either, even though they only rarely left the big bed. Leon would keep touching him, and that’s all it took, and then they’d be stuck together again, with nothing between but sweat and cum.
No wonder he was hungry. And there was laundry to do, and the dishes were waiting. But it was nice to be out in the spring sunshine and eat someone else’s cooking. He could use a rest too; his insides were jelly, scrambled by Leon, who also looked tired and vaguely strung out. It was good to take a break, to not be so desperate, and enjoy a conversation that didn’t end in groans and other wordless sounds of need and satisfaction.
The thought made his stomach flip-flop and the familiar spiral of heat and need welled up, so he shut his legs tightly under the tunic and smiled all the harder at Leon. Leon was drinking coffee as though it were ambrosia, and staring discreetly at all the tourists and shoppers. The tips of their fingers just touched on the table top, hidden behind the soy sauce and sugar packets, an electric current trickling through the connection, one he was (barely) used to now. D admired Leon’s profile in passing and thought determinedly about dinner, which they should shop for on the way home. He liked that nose and the curve of lips below. That mouth had driven him to the brink of ecstasy only an hour or so earlier and those eyes, blue, blue eyes, the color of summer skies, had watched him greedily, joyfully when he came, fountaining and shuddering, not even able to cry out.
Damn it, to borrow one of Leon’s favorite sayings. He wanted to go home. He ached to go home.
D clenched his thighs harder and thought about tofu. A stir fry, that was it. He’d make that for dinner tonight. Right now they should get going, or they’d never get home.
“D, can we go to the Aquarium?” Leon had picked up a guidebook somewhere and was poring over it intently.
“Yes, of course, but it’s not on the way. It’ll take hours, a whole day, really. Do you want to go another time?”
“’Right. What else can we see, then? I’ve never been to Tokyo and while we’re here…”
Was Leon expecting him to move the Shop again? He had no reason to, not now. He’d been caught, fair and square, and besides, he liked it here. Shinjuku Prefecture suited him, as did the little back street he lived on. He knew all the local shopkeepers now and the best bargains. Clients found him no matter where he was, so the stream of customers was steady. And it was safe enough that Tetsu and Ten-chan could roam the Garden if they wished, under certain restrictions of course.
Maybe Leon would like the Garden. They could go in by Sendagaya Gate and stroll around. Or possibly Yokohama’s famous Chinatown instead, since they were going there anyway, and then he could pick up a few things he needed. They could visit the Marine Tower. Leon would definitely enjoy that.
“So, what’s the plan, D? Where we going? The office is open till four, so we’ve got all day.” Leon leaned forward and put his cup down, enfolding D’s hand fully with his other. It upped the amperage running through D’s blood and he shivered. He really just wanted to go home, climb back into bed and have his way with his idiot detective. That was what he wanted, but Leon was in a touristy mood now, so he’d have to wait.
“The Marine Tower, I think, and then lunch in Chinatown. We can visit Kantei-byo, too, if we have time. You are not tired, Leon?” He was. And hungry, though not for food. Stupid Leon!
“Then let’s go. I’ll get the check, if you’ll tell me how much to pay. I haven’t figured out Japanese currency yet. No time.” Leon grinned and stood up, tugging D with him and turning toward the cashier, bill in hand. D accompanied him, perforce, and sorted out the change and the tip. By the time they left he’d gotten over his minor irritation and was looking forward to Yokohama. Leon never once let go of his hand.
It was thirty minutes to get to Ishikawa-cho station on the JR line, more or less, and then more in a taxi to the Tower. D climbed it on legs that were still mildly shaky and Leon went at his pace, right behind him on the steps. They stood there for ages, admiring the view, till Leon at last turned and announced he was hungry. Lunch was local specialties in Yokohama’s famous Chinatown and then D led the way to his favorite shops - buying Ashigara tea and local Nihon-shu wine, Oyama tofu and various other goodies. He loaded Leon down with little packages, like a pack mule, and then had to hide his smile at Leon’s long-suffering air.
They went out to the industrial area at Yamashita Pier around 3 pm, again by taxi, and Leon claimed his duffel and his last paycheck. He’d enjoyed that job, except for the pirates and the fact that Dramamine did absolutely nothing for his seasickness, but what he had now was so much better. D stayed in the background while they were in the office, although the office ladies kept looking at him oddly and glancing over to Leon and back. D didn’t mind it; they meant no harm. And they would forget; unless, perhaps, one of them needed a Pet.
They went to the Yamate Museum on the way back to Ishikawa-cho, stashing their stuff in the taxi D kept waiting, and then took the JR back to Shinjuku. D bought pork buns for Leon and soba for himself on the walk home, and an apricot tarte for after. Leon bumped shoulders with him for a little bit, as his hands were full, and then finally stopped to rearrange his load so he could grab D’s hand once again.
It had been a good day, D thought to himself later, busy getting the Pets their dinner. He had enjoyed every minute and so had Leon. His brand new live-in lover was in the bedroom, unloading his duffel and finding places for things like Chris’s photo and his birth certificate. He stuck it in D’s desk after a while, since there was no better place, and eventually wandered into the kitchen again, his dirty laundry in his arms. D blushed when he was captured from behind in a bear hug (Leon had dropped the laundry on the floor when he spied the opportunity) and very carefully put down the Wüsthof chef’s knife. He leaned back and enjoyed the warmth against his back. Leon radiated warm, which was one the reasons D loved him. A trivial reason, to be sure, but it made him happy.
D managed to finish making dinner, but it was difficult to concentrate with a hard-on. He’d had a hard-on for ten days now and it was never going to go away at this rate. He’d have to learn to work around it now that Leon was here to stay. Leon helped him enthusiastically, clearly wanting the chore done and over with. He had better things in mind, much better, and D didn’t mind being rushed. They were back in the bedroom within the half-hour and Leon had him stripped in less than half-a-minute. He knelt silently before D and started licking and kissing: the calf and the back of the knee, the jut of his hips, his shallow navel and all along the insides of his thighs, till at last he came to fine silky curls that surrounded D’s genitals. D’s knees gave way when he got there and Leon pushed him down on the bed and teased and licked and sucked some more, till D thought his head would float off and that he would die if Leon didn’t fill the empty ache within him immediately. He came the moment Leon entered him and then again, minutes later, when Leon himself had reached orgasm - the fifth one that day. They subsided on the messy bed, sides still heaving and breath intermingled, and D just caught the inaudible “Love you” before he passed out, exhausted.
He woke with it still in his ears and enthusiastically retuned the kiss that had woken him. Their tongues tangoed, meeting and retreating over the barrier of teeth until Leon grew impatient and sucked D’s deep, engulfing it. It reminded D of the other things Leon could do with that mouth. So talented, his detective, so hungry, as if he could exist no longer without this constant touching as a form of sustenance. It was flattering, really.
D did not realize that in five years Leon had not touched a woman and that the last three of that unbearably long time had been spent enduring a craving that no woman could ever hope to satisfy. Three years in the desert, chasing mirages, till he’d nearly given up hope of ever feeling again. But now he’d been presented with a feast, an willing and agreeable feast, and he‘d evidently put his mind to consuming it at every single opportunity. D knew the hunger; he felt it too, although he had not really understood what he had been lacking in all those years. This surfeit of touch more than satisfied that awakened need, though, and D wallowed in it and joyfully drowned, unafraid. He had no plans to be afraid, ever again.
They made love again as the sun rose and dozed until breakfast. D opened the Shop, which he hadn’t for days, and closed early again when he realized Leon was watching him, smiling. He could not resist that wolfish grin, nor wanted to.
Twenty days passed, and then a full month. They went out occasionally, on ‘dates’, to the movies, or dinner, or the tourist hotspots D’s new companion seemed to enjoy. Mostly they stayed home and fucked passionately, madly, till Leon was exhausted and D even more amazed at his dear detective’s fortitude. He loved it, could not imagine how he had lived without it for so long.
D opened the Shop so rarely that T-chan exploded one day and they fought, exchanging harsh words in the parlor in front of everyone, something unheard of and horribly frightening for the rest. D stalked off in a huff and T-chan went out the Savannah door and wasn’t seen for two whole days. Leon was horrified; he hadn’t meant to disrupt D’s life, he only wanted to be there, slip into the space that had miraculously opened between worlds, and exist there until he was no more and the Shop moved on without him. He did not expect any permanency, except his own.
D didn’t see it that way. He had a partner now, a mate, as it were, and be damned if he would accept being accused of selfishness by one who had eaten babies. If he chose to stay closed for a period of time, then it was no business of the Pets and they could live with Grandfather if they didn’t like it and that would be the end of it. He was far from ‘selfish’; he was ‘happy’ and it was not something he planned to give up.
Everyone tiptoed around the Shop for several days, restless and uneasy.
When T-chan returned sullen and still angry a few days later, D overheard him and Leon having it out in the kitchen.
“You will leave him, human.” The Totetsu seemed to be firmly convinced and Leon had no idea why. Did he look like he was leaving? He hadn’t dared set one foot out that door unless he was firmly anchored to D. Hardly.
“The fuck I will, T-chan. You know how long I spent just getting here? Leaving is the last thing on my mind.” T-chan was silent, and D could imagine his expression. He and Leon usually got along so well and D had believed T-chan’s problem was with him, not Leon. The clink of tea cups and the shriek of the kettle interrupted the uneasy quiet.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, T-chan, but it’s none of your business. I am not going to leave him, or cheat on him, or anything else that stupid. I don’t even know why you’re so pissed off about this. Pon-chan accepts me, and the rest of them. Nobody’s got a problem with it but you.”
“You will die, Leon.” The air of finality made Leon a little nervous. Did T-chan mean ‘right now’ (and maybe with some help from him? - that was gruesome - he remembered the orangutan and shuddered) or was he talking about the future?
“Yeah, well, so what? We all do, T-chan. What’s that have to do with this?”
“He will not, Leon. Would you make his long life that much sadder?”
“By making him unhappy now by leaving as opposed to giving up the ghost sometime way down the road, d’you mean? Tet, you’re worrying too much. I’m here for as long as he’ll keep me, five minutes or five years, or fifty. Whatever. If me being here makes him happy, then butt the hell out. He’s all grown up, you know? He can make that decision on his own.” There was the hiss of hot water hitting tea leaves and D heard the thunk of macaroons being slammed onto a plate. That was probably T-chan.
“Then convince him to open the Shop, Mr. Detective. We have Pets here in need of Owners. Time is wasting. You are holding up the show, with all your namby-pamby ‘happiness.’”
Namby-pamby? How old was T-chan, that he used words like that?
“Is that what you’re really pissed off about? Or is it my eventual death? Well, thank-you-very-much-for-your-concern, T-chan, good buddy, but I don’t need it. I’m only 27, ‘kay? I gotta few good years left in me.”
There was silence, except for the sound of plates stacking and cream being poured in a pitcher. T-chan didn’t answer and D wished he could see around corners.
“I’ll see what I can do about the Shop,” Leon said gruffly, after a minute. D raised his eyebrows in response to that and briefly wondered just how his dear Detective would persuade him. It sent a thrill right up his spine, just imagining.
“The Count will be absolutely incensed.” T-chan sounded rather worried about that, although perhaps also a little pleased, since it would be Leon catching the brunt of the Count’s displeasure.
Around the corner, D’s mouth opened in a silent “Oh.”
Oh, yes. That would not be pleasant. D was very glad Grandfather was in America and much less likely to travel, now that he had Father to care for. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice for a little longer.
“And?” D could practically see Leon’s little swagger. He hoped it was not empty bravado. When Grandfather found out, it would not be pretty.
“I could call him, let him know. Since you two are so insistent on being a couple.” D stiffened and remembered that he was angry with T-chan. If Grandfather dared-
“If you want. I don’t care. It’s not going to change anything, even if he flips. I won’t change, at least.” The tea tray was ready from the sound of it. The refrigerator door opened and closed as someone put the cream away and took out the butter. D tensed and let go of the wall, ready to slide silently back down the hall and act like he’d never been anywhere near the kitchen.
“You’d better prove it, then, Detective. Find something useful to do, so we can all go back to normal and he can open the Shop.” T-chan’s back was to the swinging door and D slipped away.
Something useful? For Leon, who might get bored without something to do? There was the Study, where he’d crammed all the old Contracts, the Diaries and photos and notes when he’d moved here, unwilling to deal with them, not wanting to examine his past ever again. It was too painful for D, after seeing Father crumble, at the end, when he’d had to let Leon go. But… maybe Leon would like that, sorting it out. There were mysteries aplenty to amuse him, distract him, keep him happy and occupied and here.
D had worried about that, if the sex ever slowed down, and Leon started to question if it was only that which kept him here. He’d fretted, as he could not bear to lose Leon, not to boredom or disinterest or old age. But Leon would be safe here in the Shop, if he stayed. D could make sure that Leon would not die before him, something he’d been unable to do in California.
If Leon was willing, of course. And Grandfather might very well be pleased, which would help when the inevitable thunderstorm broke over their heads. Then D could rest easy and open the Shop again and they’d all be on even keel.
Teatime was noisy. Everyone crowded into the parlor, curious, no doubt, as to whether T-chan and the Count would exchange words again. D had to go get more macaroons and the larger teapot. He waited till everyone was nearly done to suggest cleaning up the Study to Leon, and made certain that T-chan could hear above the din.
Leon was hesitant.
“You sure? Me messing around with your records and stuff? What if I ask you questions you don’t want to answer?” Or get pissed off…D heard the unspoken question, acknowledging Leon was quite capable of being furious at his ancestors, even in retrospect.
“I’ll answer them, I promise. And it’s not all just Contracts, Leon. Father’s records of his studies at Yale and Harvard are there, which should be recorded for the sake of science, I believe, and Great-great Grandfather’s diary of the Revolution. You’ll be sure to find that interesting.” D nodded encouragingly and looked up from under his lashes - he was not above using other means of persuasion if necessary.
“Which Revolution?” Leon still looked unconvinced.
“The French one, of course. We were not involved in the American one, really.” Leon grimaced and shook his head.
“Look, I really don’t think-“
“I’ll get you a computer, Leon, to use for the project.” That caught his interest - Leon had always wanted one, back when he was still an underpaid cop, but couldn’t afford it. D had no patience for such things, but if it would entice his detective, then he’d offer.
“Well…I’ll look at it. You should get an expert, you know. There’s people who do that stuff all day long.”
“And allow a human to paw through our history?” D was horrified. “I think not, Detective.”
“I’m human.”
“You are different, Leon, manifestly so. Do not argue, please.” D rose, putting down his cup. He put out a beckoning hand and Leon took it, unthinking. “Well, then, shall we go see?”
T-chan snorted with laughter the moment they left the room. The rest joined in, to varying degrees, and some uncertainly, not sure if they were laughing at the human or the way he’d been managed, or from relief, as the tension was finally gone.
END
Pairing: Leon X D
I am not feeling well and am thus posting, cause I can write with a fever, apparently. I thought they should have a honeymoon, of sorts, since I didn't think living together would be all that easy for them.
Hope you like it; please leave me a comment or 2.
Honeymoon
In the first few days, it still seemed like a dream. Leon would touch things to make sure they were real - bamboo birdcages; the tea table (a Victorian monstrosity with legs carved like lions and an checkerboard inlay in ebony and marble); the bed that he woke in; and D, who would always pause whatever he was doing and smile. It was hard to believe that he was here at last; in fact he only believed it when he was deep inside his lover, gloved in liquid heat, watching the pale eyelids flutter and the frantic hands reach out for him, wanting him closer yet. Then it was real and true and not some fantasy…at least for that moment.
Sometimes it felt just like the old Shop. The same old cast-of-characters greeted him every morning, with one exception, of course - young Chris, who was no doubt sleeping peacefully while Leon drank his morning Oolong, back in America with his uncle and aunt. Leon would be eating toast and wishing for coffee, at least in the morning, and scanning the paper, ‘cause he could follow the pictures and had started to recognize a few characters here and there. But then he’d reach out, something he’d never dared do in the old Shop, and tug D into his lap and kiss him until they were both languorous and melting. On the fifth morning he could not wait, plastering D up against the wall of the parlor and reducing his willing captive to helpless whimpering, till D begged and pleaded and wrapped those silky legs around Leon’s waist, shoving himself toward Leon’s cock like a madman. That made Leon smile triumphantly, ‘cause it wasn’t just him, and there was something he could do that no one else could.
D was hot and wet and slippery and their clothes were half-off and hanging when Leon finally plunged in. D hissed and clenched all around him, till Leon thought he’d go right that moment and it was only with herculean effort that he held off. His poor baby must be sore - they’d done it that morning, and last night…and in the middle of the night, too, when Leon woke to find himself deep in D’s throat, and he’d ending up cumming twice…and making D scream that second time. He tried to be gentle this time, but it was hard. D smelled so good, like sex and cinnamon, and he quivered deliciously with every movement of Leon within. It was the best sex he’d ever had, the best imaginable, and Leon was awed every single time. He was awed again that morning, and thankful, and D felt hot tears sliding down his neck when Leon buried his face there and came once again.
They left the breakfast dishes on the table and went back to bed. It was by no means the first meal that had been interrupted.
Around the tenth day, Leon remembered his duffel, forlorn and forgotten at the shipping office. He could use some fresh clothes, though D seemed to have some of his in that endless closet, and his birth certificate was there, along with his passport. But he didn’t want to go get it, not if it meant leaving. He would never leave, not till they carried him out in a pinewood box.
D had to come with him; insisted on it, in fact, so they hopped the Yamanote line to Yokohama on a beautiful spring morning. Leon held his hand, not letting go, and D thought it was silly and somehow very sweet. He didn’t take it back, though people stared and giggled when they noticed and it was hard to manage the ticket machine and turnstile with only one hand.
They stopped to have a late breakfast in the Shinjuku train station on the way, ‘cause their own had been abandoned half-way through D’s convincing Leon that he really should go get his stuff. D realized he was starving and wobbly with it. They hadn’t had a lot of sleep, either, even though they only rarely left the big bed. Leon would keep touching him, and that’s all it took, and then they’d be stuck together again, with nothing between but sweat and cum.
No wonder he was hungry. And there was laundry to do, and the dishes were waiting. But it was nice to be out in the spring sunshine and eat someone else’s cooking. He could use a rest too; his insides were jelly, scrambled by Leon, who also looked tired and vaguely strung out. It was good to take a break, to not be so desperate, and enjoy a conversation that didn’t end in groans and other wordless sounds of need and satisfaction.
The thought made his stomach flip-flop and the familiar spiral of heat and need welled up, so he shut his legs tightly under the tunic and smiled all the harder at Leon. Leon was drinking coffee as though it were ambrosia, and staring discreetly at all the tourists and shoppers. The tips of their fingers just touched on the table top, hidden behind the soy sauce and sugar packets, an electric current trickling through the connection, one he was (barely) used to now. D admired Leon’s profile in passing and thought determinedly about dinner, which they should shop for on the way home. He liked that nose and the curve of lips below. That mouth had driven him to the brink of ecstasy only an hour or so earlier and those eyes, blue, blue eyes, the color of summer skies, had watched him greedily, joyfully when he came, fountaining and shuddering, not even able to cry out.
Damn it, to borrow one of Leon’s favorite sayings. He wanted to go home. He ached to go home.
D clenched his thighs harder and thought about tofu. A stir fry, that was it. He’d make that for dinner tonight. Right now they should get going, or they’d never get home.
“D, can we go to the Aquarium?” Leon had picked up a guidebook somewhere and was poring over it intently.
“Yes, of course, but it’s not on the way. It’ll take hours, a whole day, really. Do you want to go another time?”
“’Right. What else can we see, then? I’ve never been to Tokyo and while we’re here…”
Was Leon expecting him to move the Shop again? He had no reason to, not now. He’d been caught, fair and square, and besides, he liked it here. Shinjuku Prefecture suited him, as did the little back street he lived on. He knew all the local shopkeepers now and the best bargains. Clients found him no matter where he was, so the stream of customers was steady. And it was safe enough that Tetsu and Ten-chan could roam the Garden if they wished, under certain restrictions of course.
Maybe Leon would like the Garden. They could go in by Sendagaya Gate and stroll around. Or possibly Yokohama’s famous Chinatown instead, since they were going there anyway, and then he could pick up a few things he needed. They could visit the Marine Tower. Leon would definitely enjoy that.
“So, what’s the plan, D? Where we going? The office is open till four, so we’ve got all day.” Leon leaned forward and put his cup down, enfolding D’s hand fully with his other. It upped the amperage running through D’s blood and he shivered. He really just wanted to go home, climb back into bed and have his way with his idiot detective. That was what he wanted, but Leon was in a touristy mood now, so he’d have to wait.
“The Marine Tower, I think, and then lunch in Chinatown. We can visit Kantei-byo, too, if we have time. You are not tired, Leon?” He was. And hungry, though not for food. Stupid Leon!
“Then let’s go. I’ll get the check, if you’ll tell me how much to pay. I haven’t figured out Japanese currency yet. No time.” Leon grinned and stood up, tugging D with him and turning toward the cashier, bill in hand. D accompanied him, perforce, and sorted out the change and the tip. By the time they left he’d gotten over his minor irritation and was looking forward to Yokohama. Leon never once let go of his hand.
It was thirty minutes to get to Ishikawa-cho station on the JR line, more or less, and then more in a taxi to the Tower. D climbed it on legs that were still mildly shaky and Leon went at his pace, right behind him on the steps. They stood there for ages, admiring the view, till Leon at last turned and announced he was hungry. Lunch was local specialties in Yokohama’s famous Chinatown and then D led the way to his favorite shops - buying Ashigara tea and local Nihon-shu wine, Oyama tofu and various other goodies. He loaded Leon down with little packages, like a pack mule, and then had to hide his smile at Leon’s long-suffering air.
They went out to the industrial area at Yamashita Pier around 3 pm, again by taxi, and Leon claimed his duffel and his last paycheck. He’d enjoyed that job, except for the pirates and the fact that Dramamine did absolutely nothing for his seasickness, but what he had now was so much better. D stayed in the background while they were in the office, although the office ladies kept looking at him oddly and glancing over to Leon and back. D didn’t mind it; they meant no harm. And they would forget; unless, perhaps, one of them needed a Pet.
They went to the Yamate Museum on the way back to Ishikawa-cho, stashing their stuff in the taxi D kept waiting, and then took the JR back to Shinjuku. D bought pork buns for Leon and soba for himself on the walk home, and an apricot tarte for after. Leon bumped shoulders with him for a little bit, as his hands were full, and then finally stopped to rearrange his load so he could grab D’s hand once again.
It had been a good day, D thought to himself later, busy getting the Pets their dinner. He had enjoyed every minute and so had Leon. His brand new live-in lover was in the bedroom, unloading his duffel and finding places for things like Chris’s photo and his birth certificate. He stuck it in D’s desk after a while, since there was no better place, and eventually wandered into the kitchen again, his dirty laundry in his arms. D blushed when he was captured from behind in a bear hug (Leon had dropped the laundry on the floor when he spied the opportunity) and very carefully put down the Wüsthof chef’s knife. He leaned back and enjoyed the warmth against his back. Leon radiated warm, which was one the reasons D loved him. A trivial reason, to be sure, but it made him happy.
D managed to finish making dinner, but it was difficult to concentrate with a hard-on. He’d had a hard-on for ten days now and it was never going to go away at this rate. He’d have to learn to work around it now that Leon was here to stay. Leon helped him enthusiastically, clearly wanting the chore done and over with. He had better things in mind, much better, and D didn’t mind being rushed. They were back in the bedroom within the half-hour and Leon had him stripped in less than half-a-minute. He knelt silently before D and started licking and kissing: the calf and the back of the knee, the jut of his hips, his shallow navel and all along the insides of his thighs, till at last he came to fine silky curls that surrounded D’s genitals. D’s knees gave way when he got there and Leon pushed him down on the bed and teased and licked and sucked some more, till D thought his head would float off and that he would die if Leon didn’t fill the empty ache within him immediately. He came the moment Leon entered him and then again, minutes later, when Leon himself had reached orgasm - the fifth one that day. They subsided on the messy bed, sides still heaving and breath intermingled, and D just caught the inaudible “Love you” before he passed out, exhausted.
He woke with it still in his ears and enthusiastically retuned the kiss that had woken him. Their tongues tangoed, meeting and retreating over the barrier of teeth until Leon grew impatient and sucked D’s deep, engulfing it. It reminded D of the other things Leon could do with that mouth. So talented, his detective, so hungry, as if he could exist no longer without this constant touching as a form of sustenance. It was flattering, really.
D did not realize that in five years Leon had not touched a woman and that the last three of that unbearably long time had been spent enduring a craving that no woman could ever hope to satisfy. Three years in the desert, chasing mirages, till he’d nearly given up hope of ever feeling again. But now he’d been presented with a feast, an willing and agreeable feast, and he‘d evidently put his mind to consuming it at every single opportunity. D knew the hunger; he felt it too, although he had not really understood what he had been lacking in all those years. This surfeit of touch more than satisfied that awakened need, though, and D wallowed in it and joyfully drowned, unafraid. He had no plans to be afraid, ever again.
They made love again as the sun rose and dozed until breakfast. D opened the Shop, which he hadn’t for days, and closed early again when he realized Leon was watching him, smiling. He could not resist that wolfish grin, nor wanted to.
Twenty days passed, and then a full month. They went out occasionally, on ‘dates’, to the movies, or dinner, or the tourist hotspots D’s new companion seemed to enjoy. Mostly they stayed home and fucked passionately, madly, till Leon was exhausted and D even more amazed at his dear detective’s fortitude. He loved it, could not imagine how he had lived without it for so long.
D opened the Shop so rarely that T-chan exploded one day and they fought, exchanging harsh words in the parlor in front of everyone, something unheard of and horribly frightening for the rest. D stalked off in a huff and T-chan went out the Savannah door and wasn’t seen for two whole days. Leon was horrified; he hadn’t meant to disrupt D’s life, he only wanted to be there, slip into the space that had miraculously opened between worlds, and exist there until he was no more and the Shop moved on without him. He did not expect any permanency, except his own.
D didn’t see it that way. He had a partner now, a mate, as it were, and be damned if he would accept being accused of selfishness by one who had eaten babies. If he chose to stay closed for a period of time, then it was no business of the Pets and they could live with Grandfather if they didn’t like it and that would be the end of it. He was far from ‘selfish’; he was ‘happy’ and it was not something he planned to give up.
Everyone tiptoed around the Shop for several days, restless and uneasy.
When T-chan returned sullen and still angry a few days later, D overheard him and Leon having it out in the kitchen.
“You will leave him, human.” The Totetsu seemed to be firmly convinced and Leon had no idea why. Did he look like he was leaving? He hadn’t dared set one foot out that door unless he was firmly anchored to D. Hardly.
“The fuck I will, T-chan. You know how long I spent just getting here? Leaving is the last thing on my mind.” T-chan was silent, and D could imagine his expression. He and Leon usually got along so well and D had believed T-chan’s problem was with him, not Leon. The clink of tea cups and the shriek of the kettle interrupted the uneasy quiet.
“Look, I appreciate your concern, T-chan, but it’s none of your business. I am not going to leave him, or cheat on him, or anything else that stupid. I don’t even know why you’re so pissed off about this. Pon-chan accepts me, and the rest of them. Nobody’s got a problem with it but you.”
“You will die, Leon.” The air of finality made Leon a little nervous. Did T-chan mean ‘right now’ (and maybe with some help from him? - that was gruesome - he remembered the orangutan and shuddered) or was he talking about the future?
“Yeah, well, so what? We all do, T-chan. What’s that have to do with this?”
“He will not, Leon. Would you make his long life that much sadder?”
“By making him unhappy now by leaving as opposed to giving up the ghost sometime way down the road, d’you mean? Tet, you’re worrying too much. I’m here for as long as he’ll keep me, five minutes or five years, or fifty. Whatever. If me being here makes him happy, then butt the hell out. He’s all grown up, you know? He can make that decision on his own.” There was the hiss of hot water hitting tea leaves and D heard the thunk of macaroons being slammed onto a plate. That was probably T-chan.
“Then convince him to open the Shop, Mr. Detective. We have Pets here in need of Owners. Time is wasting. You are holding up the show, with all your namby-pamby ‘happiness.’”
Namby-pamby? How old was T-chan, that he used words like that?
“Is that what you’re really pissed off about? Or is it my eventual death? Well, thank-you-very-much-for-your-concern, T-chan, good buddy, but I don’t need it. I’m only 27, ‘kay? I gotta few good years left in me.”
There was silence, except for the sound of plates stacking and cream being poured in a pitcher. T-chan didn’t answer and D wished he could see around corners.
“I’ll see what I can do about the Shop,” Leon said gruffly, after a minute. D raised his eyebrows in response to that and briefly wondered just how his dear Detective would persuade him. It sent a thrill right up his spine, just imagining.
“The Count will be absolutely incensed.” T-chan sounded rather worried about that, although perhaps also a little pleased, since it would be Leon catching the brunt of the Count’s displeasure.
Around the corner, D’s mouth opened in a silent “Oh.”
Oh, yes. That would not be pleasant. D was very glad Grandfather was in America and much less likely to travel, now that he had Father to care for. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice for a little longer.
“And?” D could practically see Leon’s little swagger. He hoped it was not empty bravado. When Grandfather found out, it would not be pretty.
“I could call him, let him know. Since you two are so insistent on being a couple.” D stiffened and remembered that he was angry with T-chan. If Grandfather dared-
“If you want. I don’t care. It’s not going to change anything, even if he flips. I won’t change, at least.” The tea tray was ready from the sound of it. The refrigerator door opened and closed as someone put the cream away and took out the butter. D tensed and let go of the wall, ready to slide silently back down the hall and act like he’d never been anywhere near the kitchen.
“You’d better prove it, then, Detective. Find something useful to do, so we can all go back to normal and he can open the Shop.” T-chan’s back was to the swinging door and D slipped away.
Something useful? For Leon, who might get bored without something to do? There was the Study, where he’d crammed all the old Contracts, the Diaries and photos and notes when he’d moved here, unwilling to deal with them, not wanting to examine his past ever again. It was too painful for D, after seeing Father crumble, at the end, when he’d had to let Leon go. But… maybe Leon would like that, sorting it out. There were mysteries aplenty to amuse him, distract him, keep him happy and occupied and here.
D had worried about that, if the sex ever slowed down, and Leon started to question if it was only that which kept him here. He’d fretted, as he could not bear to lose Leon, not to boredom or disinterest or old age. But Leon would be safe here in the Shop, if he stayed. D could make sure that Leon would not die before him, something he’d been unable to do in California.
If Leon was willing, of course. And Grandfather might very well be pleased, which would help when the inevitable thunderstorm broke over their heads. Then D could rest easy and open the Shop again and they’d all be on even keel.
Teatime was noisy. Everyone crowded into the parlor, curious, no doubt, as to whether T-chan and the Count would exchange words again. D had to go get more macaroons and the larger teapot. He waited till everyone was nearly done to suggest cleaning up the Study to Leon, and made certain that T-chan could hear above the din.
Leon was hesitant.
“You sure? Me messing around with your records and stuff? What if I ask you questions you don’t want to answer?” Or get pissed off…D heard the unspoken question, acknowledging Leon was quite capable of being furious at his ancestors, even in retrospect.
“I’ll answer them, I promise. And it’s not all just Contracts, Leon. Father’s records of his studies at Yale and Harvard are there, which should be recorded for the sake of science, I believe, and Great-great Grandfather’s diary of the Revolution. You’ll be sure to find that interesting.” D nodded encouragingly and looked up from under his lashes - he was not above using other means of persuasion if necessary.
“Which Revolution?” Leon still looked unconvinced.
“The French one, of course. We were not involved in the American one, really.” Leon grimaced and shook his head.
“Look, I really don’t think-“
“I’ll get you a computer, Leon, to use for the project.” That caught his interest - Leon had always wanted one, back when he was still an underpaid cop, but couldn’t afford it. D had no patience for such things, but if it would entice his detective, then he’d offer.
“Well…I’ll look at it. You should get an expert, you know. There’s people who do that stuff all day long.”
“And allow a human to paw through our history?” D was horrified. “I think not, Detective.”
“I’m human.”
“You are different, Leon, manifestly so. Do not argue, please.” D rose, putting down his cup. He put out a beckoning hand and Leon took it, unthinking. “Well, then, shall we go see?”
T-chan snorted with laughter the moment they left the room. The rest joined in, to varying degrees, and some uncertainly, not sure if they were laughing at the human or the way he’d been managed, or from relief, as the tension was finally gone.
END