Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ Unwilling Sleep ❯ The Beast With Two Backs ( Chapter 10 )
Anime/Manga: Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 03.20.2004 | Pages: 5 | Words: 13.9K | Visits: 5.1K | Status: Completed
For warnings, disclaimers, etc., see the Prologue.
Extra warning: this chapter contains some sexual content, though it is not explicit.
Unwilling Sleep, Part Ten: The Beast with Two Backs
Good breakfast smells floated through the air as Leon sat at the table, watching D. For his part, D was putting slices of toast on plates, buttering them, and then sprinkling them with cinnamon. The microwave bleeped, signaling that Leon's mug of water had warmed up. It jolted him awake, helping him to take his eyes off D for a few seconds while he took out the mug and added the instant coffee. Then he took a sip. Definitely not up to Phil and Eileen's standards, but for some reason, it tasted pretty good this morning anyway.
"Would you warm up another cup of water for me?" D asked, buttering another slice of bread. "For my tea?"
Leon had a hunch he'd do a lot more than that, if D asked. But he only mumbled, "Sure," and obeyed, after taking the plate of toast from D's hands when D offered it to him. He had four slices of toast; D had two. It was almost embarrassing. The worst thing was, Leon knew he'd eat it all and would probably still be hungry afterward. God, what he wouldn't give for some bacon right now. He wouldn't place any bets on D fixing that for him, though. Oh well. Bacon wasn't that hard. He could learn to make it himself -- you just threw it in a pan, right?
Without saying anything else, Leon sat at the table, sipping at his coffee and eating his toast, getting cinnamon on D's bathrobe. The robe looked funny on him: it was stretched so tightly across his shoulders that he worried he'd rip it if he stretched, and the hem, which brushed D's ankles, ended at his calves. D was such a little guy. It wasn't the first time he'd thought this; it wasn't even the first time he'd thought it with a warm surge of affection, if he admitted the truth. But it was the first time he'd thought it while remembering what that slight body felt like when it moved in his arms. And now he also noticed the hang of the pajama top from D's slender shoulders, over his arms, which Leon knew were long and pale, now. And soft as silk on the underside. His hands and his mouth remembered that, and other things too, though there was still a lot they didn't know yet…
D sat down at the table, delicately nibbling his piece of toast and dunking the teabag into the hot water. He looked okay: lots better than he had the night before, that was for sure. More relaxed. And he seemed to take genuine pleasure in the food. Thank God. Now that D was looking better, it was okay for Leon to admit how worried he'd been. As it was, maybe D would be ready to go again when they'd finished breakfast. God knew Leon would be, for sure.
Then Leon thought, for a moment, that he should be more freaked out about this. Maybe he would be later: maybe gay sex caused some kind of delayed-reaction thing. But he didn't really want to freak out, was the thing, even if he should. He was feeling sort of mellow, and he never felt mellow, ever, and he thought he liked it. And after all -- hell, why not? Why shouldn't he be having sex with D, when he thought about it? They'd moved in together. They'd be pooling their money. Jill had always teased him about how they fought like a married couple. They'd each given up so much just to be here, for Christ's sake, had gone through so much shit -- wasn't it about time something good came out of it all? Shouldn't they get some fringe benefits? It was just like what he'd been thinking last night, what he'd been trying to show D: that life didn't have to be total misery…
He figured it like this. He had two choices: he could go into shock, or go with the flow. And going into shock wouldn't get him any more blowjobs.
It was about time he started learning how to be happy. He had a hunch that he'd never get a better chance at it than he had right now. It could work. He knew it could, in a vague, weird way. Those last few months at the pet shop had been some of the best of his life, all things considered, until the very end. They'd certainly been the most interesting. Now the setting had changed, but the main players hadn't. So, okay. That could only mean that this person, this guy, was what it was going to take for Leon to be happy. Whatever that meant. The million-dollar question was: could Leon make D happy too? Enough that he wouldn't regret? Could anything make D happy, really, considering everything he'd given up and lost?
Leon watched D nibble at his toast and sip pensively at his tea, and stare off into space, thinking about God only knew what. Maybe it was that nightmare he'd had about his bastard grandfather, trying to dictate how they should live their lives. Only, could you call it a nightmare if it had sort of been real? Leon clenched his own mug and stared down into his cooling coffee as he polished off his last piece of toast.
D rose gracefully from his chair -- Leon had always kinda liked looking at him when he walked, really -- and moved to pick up his plate. He looked less pensive now, more troubled, and he seemed to be avoiding Leon's gaze. Uh oh. None of that. Leon didn't know what was bothering D, but it couldn't be anything good. He reached out across the small table and caught D by one slender wrist; D looked up, the troubled expression vanishing to be replaced with blank surprise.
Leon didn't say anything, just tugged, and a bemused D followed the tug until he was standing in front of Leon. Leon decided that the not-talking thing was working pretty well, and pulled D into his lap without another word and kissed him. D inhaled softly, but did not resist, and when Leon began to run his hands gently up and down his back, he shivered a little before relaxing into Leon's arms. He even wound his own arms around Leon's neck, and sighed when they stopped kissing. Leon trembled. Those little noises were going to be his undoing, for sure. "You done eating?" he asked, lipping at D's throat, nudging aside a strand of dark hair so he could get at the ear. For the first time he noticed, really noticed the small studs in D's earlobes. They were nice: either black or blood-red, depending on how they caught the light. He licked the nearest one. Jeez. He had a guy on his lap, and that guy wore earrings. The world was a strange place.
The guy in question was also squirming slightly. "I'm done," D murmured into his ear, his throaty tone sending a thrill up Leon's spine. "And…are you as well?"
"Done eating breakfast," Leon said, not caring that it was a terrible joke in the making. He didn't care about too much at all, except that, besides being happy, he felt kind of -- free. All right, so it was stupid. But he was. He didn't have to stop himself anymore. It was okay now to notice how pale D's skin was, how soft his lips looked, and more, it was okay to go beyond noticing. It was okay to want to do exactly what he was doing, which was unbuttoning the top two buttons of D's pajama top and biting the skin there. Not too hard. Didn't taste like anything in particular (although it was a little salty), but Leon liked it. So did D, judging by the way he tilted his head back, as if offering more skin for nibbling purposes. Jeez, Leon had left a lot of bruises last night. Good.
"Come back to bed," Leon whispered.
"All right," D replied faintly.
"Think we can take longer this time?"
"No."
"Bet you're right."
"Yeah, you were right," Leon mumbled into D's shoulder about fifteen minutes later.
"I usually am," D said, and threaded his fingers through Leon's hair. It felt good.
Leon grinned and kissed the shoulder his nose was mashed up against. His thumb flicked lazily over one of D's nipples. Rose-colored, as it turned out, like his lips. "I hope you got a second set of sheets."
"No," D said, sounding resigned. "We will just have to turn these inside-out when we want to sleep on them. I will wash them tomorrow."
"Okay by me," Leon yawned, and kissed D's chin. Then he rubbed his cheek against the soft skin of D's throat.
D wriggled and hissed. "Your beard scratches!"
"S'not a beard. S'just stubble." A thought occurred to Leon, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at D's own baby-smooth cheeks. "Hey, how come you don't have any? I know Chinese guys can grow beards. But you don't even have any…well, anything. And I haven't seen you shaving."
D blinked, and then reached up to touch his own cheek, as if he doubted Leon's words. "Why -- I don't know." He raised an eyebrow as he prodded his cheek again. "I can't say that I mind."
"I don't either," Leon said, who was trying not to picture D with a beard. It hurt his head. "But, I mean, you don't have any -- uh. Hair. Except on your head."
"I never did," D replied, and peeked curiously at his armpit. "Perhaps my body doesn't have follicles." He stroked his bare belly with vague interest, as if expecting hair to pop up at any moment. "How interesting." Leon was mesmerized by the sight of D's hand touching his own skin and forgot all about hair. Did D ever touch himself in other places? That would be…maybe he'd let Leon watch sometime. Or they could even watch each other. Not touching each other…just looking, watching…
These musings had a predictable effect. Leon shifted, tucked D more securely under his body -- he was learning that he really liked that, so he hoped D did too -- and kissed him. D kissed back, but by the time they pulled apart, he looked confused. "We just finished," he said. "And yet -- I want -- "
"Me too," Leon said in relief.
"This is ridiculous," D said, managing to look annoyed and aroused at the same time as Leon slid a thigh between his legs. "That's…I…we're going to be sore."
"Definitely, if I don't go out and get some stuff," Leon agreed. "Probably then, too. I'll go. But not right now."
"Not right now," D agreed, as Leon moved his thigh up a little. "Ah -- but still -- I do not understand how, how it can be all one thinks about…ooh…"
"Welcome to being a young guy," Leon said. "Just be glad you're not a teenager. We'd have started again about five minutes ago."
D didn't answer. He was too busy undulating his hips against Leon's body, pressing his open mouth to Leon's chest, a dazed, hungry look in his eyes.
"I need to call Phil," Leon panted later, propped up against the headboard, with D slumped against him. He reached over the side of the bed with a groan, found his discarded jeans, fished his cell phone out of its pocket.
D nodded, looking bleary, but not unhappy. In fact, he looked as close to content as he'd been since they'd found each other. "I should…go get a shower."
"Okay," Leon said, and then added, as a thought occurred to him, "No, wait." He hooked an arm around D's waist and held him close as he turned on the phone.
"But you are only calling your uncle," D said, puzzled, though he did not protest the handling.
"Exactly," Leon said, and grinned down at him as he let his hand come to rest possessively on D's bare hip.
D's eyes widened, and then narrowed again as a mischievous smirk bowed his lips. "My dear Detective," he purred, "sometimes, I do love the way you think."
Leon grinned again as he dialed the number. It wasn't like Phil would be able to see them. But somehow, the idea of talking to Phil while lying naked in bed with D was just really appealing to the nasty part of him. Phil might not know, but Leon would. Up yours, Uncle.
After a couple of rings, Phil picked up. "Hello?"
"Hi, Uncle Phil," Leon said, stroking his thumb over D's skin. D rested his head against Leon's shoulder, and Leon could feel that he was still smirking. "It's me."
"Oh…hello, Leon," Phil said, sounding wary. "Where the hell are you? We got your message yesterday. You said you've got a place to live?"
"Yeah, it's great," Leon said. "Friend of D's came through."
"Oh, he has friends in the city? And yet, he came here first," Phil said dryly.
D stiffened. So did Leon, but he patted D's hip again. "Yeah. 'Cause he was looking for me, and I wasn't likely to be in Chinatown." D relaxed -- but not much.
"Is he there now? With you?"
You have no idea. "Yeah, he's around. Why, you want to talk to him?" D looked up at Leon in horror, but Leon only shook his head.
The head-shaking was borne out when Phil muttered, "Of course not. Just wondered. So you're living there now? Not just staying?"
"That's the plan," Leon said.
"Thought you didn't like taking charity."
"I don't and I'm not," Leon snapped. But the comment had struck a nerve. D seemed to sense that, judging by the way he tentatively patted Leon's chest. Leon tried to relax. Phil just wanted to get under his skin. Just let it slide. Let it go.
"Okay. Whatever you say. You left your stuff here, you going to come get it?"
"Yeah. I thought I'd be by tomorrow, if that's okay. You gonna be in?"
"If you come in the afternoon. We might go to church in the morning. Chris is getting to the age where that's important for him," Phil added pointedly.
Leon's head fell back against the wall with a thump as he closed his eyes. "Great," he said.
"How's that?"
"I said that's great. So I'll be by in the afternoon. I'll take the train."
"Sure."
"Is Chris there? I wanna say hi to him."
"You'll see him tomorrow." As D overheard this, he dug his nails quickly into Leon's skin before restraining himself. Leon patted him again.
"Yeah, but I want to say hi to him now. Jesus, come on, Phil. It's my dime. Is he there?"
"Hold on," Phil said, sounding resigned, and there was the sound of him putting the receiver down. Leon muttered, holding the phone away from his mouth, "Church. God. Bet you anything they haven't been to church in yea -- what are you doing?"
Because D was scooting away from Leon's embrace. He batted away Leon's seeking hand, an annoyed expression on his face. "Not while we are talking to Chris, for heaven's sake."
"Wha -- ? He can't see," Leon protested. "And it's not like we're even doing anythi -- "
"Not while we are talking to Chris," D repeated firmly, and even pulled the sheets up over their hips as he sat up Indian-style in the bed, no part of his body touching Leon anymore. Leon rolled his eyes, but just then, Chris's voice piped over the phone, "Hello? Leon?"
"Chris!" Leon said, deciding to ignore D for now. If that was possible. "Hey, brat, what's going on?"
"Where are you?" Chris demanded. "Your message said you had a place to stay. Is the Count with you? Can I come?"
Leon bit his lip. "Sure you can come sometime," he said. "If -- if your mom and dad say so. Probably not this weekend, though, we're still setting stuff up. And yeah, D's here. Everything's fine. We found a place in Chinatown."
"Just like the pet shop!" Chris said, sounding ecstatic. "So when can I come?"
"Hey, as soon as we have a place for you to sleep, as far as I'm concerned," Leon said. "Which we, um, don't. Yet. But we will soon," he added quickly, and saw D give an approving nod.
"Promise?"
"If your parents say okay," Leon repeated, the words sour in his mouth. Permission to see his own kid brother. It made him sick. But maybe Phil wouldn't -- he better not, dammit. If he and D could get Eileen on their side, things would be better.
"Great!" Chris said. "Can I say hi to the Count before I have to go? I need to ask him about something."
"Huh? Oh, sure," Leon said, and handed D the phone. "He wants to talk to you now."
D looked pleased, took the phone, and said, "Hello, Chris?" Then Leon got to sit and listen to one half of a conversation that went like: "Yes…yes, it is a very nice apartment. No, not too far from where you dropped us off yesterday. Of course we will have room for you, any time you wish to come…yes…yes…oh? That's right, you do begin school on Monday…are you excited?...mmm…mm-hmm…oh? But why? Now, now." Leon listened in fascination as D's voice took on a lecturing tone. "Of course you will be perfectly fine. You are a very bright boy…why are you worried about math? You are good at math. Don't you remember all that work we did at the shop? We even learned your times tables and you -- oh." D frowned, and tapped his long fingers against his lips. "Oh, I see…yes…well, I can see where they might not have an abacus for you to use at your school…"
"Oh, God," Leon groaned, and fell back against the bed. D thwapped him lightly on the arm. "I see that, Chris, of course, but do not worry. You know your arithmetic. I daresay you are ahead of the other children your age. Well, of course you are!"
"Just use a calculator!" Leon called at the phone. "There's one on that watch I gave you, for Chrissakes!"
"Ignore your brother," D said darkly. "Of course you must know how to do it in your head before you use any of those wretched machines. What about your reading? Have you been practicing that this summer?"
"Jesus, the kid goes to school on Monday," Leon said. "Let him enjoy his last weekend."
"No, he's not saying anything important," D said sweetly into the phone, giving Leon a hard pinch where he'd swatted him before. Leon yelped. D continued, "Hmm? Yes, he's coming to see you tomorrow afternoon, he's very excited about -- what? Oh. No." D bit his lip and looked at a fixed point on the wall. "No, I'm afraid I won't be able to come. But…" D's voice took on a faint, hopeful note that tore at Leon's heart, "but perhaps it will not be long before I see you again -- before we are all together. Yes. Won't that be nice?" D's lips curved in a little smile. "Well -- I do not think we can afford the mille-feuille right now, but I will make you something else you like. We will have a proper tea-time. I promise."
Hearing that, Leon vowed he'd make it happen. He didn't care if he had to shmooze up to Eileen behind Phil's back. Hell, he didn't care if he had to out-and-out kidnap Chris for a weekend -- Chris was theirs, too. He'd become theirs some time in the past year when Leon hadn't been paying attention. Nobody was cutting him off from that. If you were going to try to be happy, you might as well go for the whole shebang. And as far as keeping D happy too, well, this had to help. Two birds with one stone.
After a few more minutes, he took the phone back from D, who looked both pleased and melancholy. Leon said the appropriate goodbyes into the phone -- he wasn't paying too much attention -- and hung up. He looked at D. "We'll get him over here," he said.
D smiled at him, although the melancholy look in his eyes didn't go away entirely. "We will think of something," he agreed. "I'm sure your uncle has many…fine qualities…but I would prefer it if he were not Chris's only role model for how to act like a man in this world."
"Hey," Leon said, dropping the phone onto his pile of clothes on the floor, and spreading his arms wide, "What's he need Phil to do that for? He's got me! Kid couldn't ask for more than that."
D's smile looked more genuine now, and he slid back into Leon's open arms like he was made to fit there. That was…a stupid idea, but it still felt really nice. Nice to be this close. Just like last night, Leon couldn't stop wondering what it might be like to get even closer. What it might be like to…to… "Indeed he couldn't," D murmured, and Leon had the embarrassed feeling that he wasn't kidding. "And something else," D added. "I hope you aren't under the impression that you are 'taking charity,' Detective."
Leon remembered Phil's jab, and felt himself turning red. "No," he lied. Well, he was mostly lying. The truth was, he was only in this place because of D, on the sufferance of D's so-called friends, no two ways about it. On the one hand, it was free, and they really needed it, and that was great -- on the other hand, it was something he hadn't been able to provide for himself.
"Oh, good," D said. "I was afraid that you were. I was afraid that you were thinking that you were here only because of the debt Shao owed to me, and that you, by extension, are therefore under some kind of obligation to Shao or myself." He raised an eyebrow.
Leon felt himself turning redder. Sometimes he really hated having such a fair complexion. Couldn't hide a damn thing.
"Which would be ridiculous," D continued, "since you would not be in this difficult position in the first place if not for me, as I believe I have already pointed out to you."
"You don't know when to quit, do you?" Leon asked, resigned.
"Oh, I know when to quit," D said. Then he smiled gently. "I'm quitting now, in fact."
"Good," Leon said, and bent to kiss him again. Which was much more fun than talking about charity. Couldn't get enough of this stuff, really. Then he stopped, and mumbled hesitantly against D's lips, "I should shower…then go and get some…you know."
"In a moment," D whispered, eyes already cloudy with desire.
"And…uh…while I'm out…I thought I'd get some uh…" Leon willed his voice not to get small. "Condoms."
D blinked.
They looked at each other for a long moment, and Leon could feel his face going red again.
"You do adapt incredibly quickly, my dear Detective," D remarked, his skepticism clear.
"Look, I know what to do," Leon said, thinking of his most open-minded girlfriend. "I've done it before. Not with guys," he added, as D's eyebrows shot up. "But I won't hurt you…and I really want to -- will you let me?" He couldn't stop the faint pleading note that entered his voice, and hid his embarrassment by bending to suck another hickey onto D's neck. "Please, D. Do you want to? I'll -- "
"Go," D whispered.
Leon looked up, prepared to be alarmed, and possibly kicked out of bed. But D's eyes had that lost, wild look in them that Leon was already learning to recognize as a Really Good Sign. Still, better safe than sorry -- "Go where?" he asked.
D pushed at his shoulders. "Go! Go get your shower, and go get these things, and hurry up and come back!"
"Right," Leon gasped, tearing himself away from the warm body and the bed cushioning it. He stumbled backwards towards the door, still drinking in the sight of D, naked and sprawled in the ruined bedlinens, watching him just as hungrily. "I'll -- I'll hurry."
"Do," D whispered. "I'll shower while you are gone."
"We're just gonna get dirty again," Leon mumbled as he opened the bedroom door.
D's eyes smoldered. "I know."
So he'd showered. Shaved. Dressed. Run down to the street, to the corner pharmacy, found the right aisles, waited in line, waited for his change. Every second of it had felt like ten goddamn years. D was waiting for him, and Leon couldn't fly, he couldn't beam from place to place like they did in those dumb sci-fi TV shows, he only had his stupid slow feet. And he shouldn't have been away from D, not right then, they should have been together, in every possible way.
He'd raced back, bag in hand, to find D emerging from the shower, wrapped in a bathrobe that still smelled like Leon, still damp, skin glowing and flushed from steam. Then they'd hit the bed like a bomb going off. Leon had taken longer to get undressed than D, another damn delay, even with D helping, scrabbling at his shirt buttons. Another million fucking years of waiting, right in those few moments.
But that didn't matter right this minute.
What mattered was the heat, and the tightness, and the slide, and the pale body arching beneath him, the voice moaning softly in time with his movements. Leon closed his eyes for a moment, and red throbbed behind the lids. It was -- this was -- yes.
He couldn't rightly explain, to himself or to D, why doing this particular thing had suddenly felt so important. Well…he could, but he would have felt stupid saying it out loud. It was just…being inside D…people called it "taking" for a reason, he figured. Before -- in the life before -- D had always been so untouchable. Even when Leon had seized him by the front of those girly robes and shaken him, he'd known he was never really touching D, not in any way that counted -- D had always been able to shrug him off with a little smirk and a bat of his eyelashes. Leon might as well have been grabbing at an empty robe, or a shadow, or a net after the butterfly had flown away, for all the good it had done him.
This was different. Inside. I'm touching you now, Count. Even you can't say I'm not touching you now.
"Oh," D breathed in his ear.
"You…you all right," Leon managed.
"Yes…yes…"
"Touching you," Leon choked, before he could stop himself.
D pressed a kiss against Leon's temple, whispered, "Yes," again.
"Not gonna stop." He couldn't quit talking, even as his hips began to move faster, more forcefully. "Can't stop -- "
"Mustn't -- stop," D replied, and arched his head back against the pillow, his eyes falling shut in an expression of bliss, mouth opening around a silent cry, and there really was no stopping it then, no stopping any of it then.
D felt as if a great quiet had fallen over him now. Leon seemed to feel the same. They lay in bed, with Leon resting his head on D's chest, not speaking. They had not spoken since they'd finished. The silence was not uncomfortable.
D closed his eyes and let out a slow breath. He would be sore tomorrow. Then he kissed the top of Leon's head because he could not stop himself, and saw no real reason to try.
There were words he wanted to say. These were words, perhaps, that he needed to say, as well. But as for Leon's reaction to them -- well, you could never tell, with Leon. It was the thing that had attracted D to him in the first place: here was a genuinely unpredictable human, when D had thought he'd learned all there was to know about human nature long ago.
D bit his lip. Looking back on the whole business, it all seemed so inevitable -- and yet, he had never seen it coming, until it was far too late and he was in hopelessly over his head. Leon had…intrigued him, at the beginning. Someone who did not fear him, who did not know what he was -- but who never fully succumbed to his charms either, as all the others did, in one way or another. A shoddy, rough exterior overlaying a core of such essential purity that it still took D's breath away: a beer-drinking, foul-mouthed, unsophisticated, thoroughly incorruptible man. He had never seen the like; or, if he had, the like had never had the nerve to bully him as Leon did, invading his space, never leaving him alone, storming off in a fury but always coming back for more. And, most incredible of all, Leon had liked D underneath it all. Not worshipped, not reverenced -- just liked. D didn't think anyone had ever just liked him before, no matter how grudgingly or unwillingly. It had been…different.
Until then, D had never realized that there could be a reason for getting up in the morning besides duty. Duty had always been enough -- more than enough. And it was true that his life had never been wholly predictable. He was not omniscient, certainly, and had never been able to tell exactly what each day would bring. But they'd all been roughly the same, those days before Leon. Selling pets. Peering into human hearts. Passing judgment, or choosing clemency, as he willed it. It had been a fine and empty life. He had been content, he supposed. How could he not have been? What else had he ever known, even in all his centuries, during all his travels? How could he have anticipated Leon, who alternately thrilled and enraged him, but always surprised him?
And then, at some point, he had awakened from the dream, and finally seen what he had been denying to himself for months: the rack and ruin of his former life, lying in pieces around his feet. He could not put it back together. He was different. Leon had made him different. Leon had made him feel, for just a few moments at a few stolen, crucial junctures, what it might be like not to be alone.
Of course, those moments always passed, because D's very nature had dictated that he always be alone. Perfectly natural. Ultimately unacceptable. And so here they were.
Silent. Happy, but silent. D bit back those important words again. Leon had been a very tender lover thus far, and he had always expressed himself in actions more than words. D supposed they both had. He could wait to speak, until he was more sure. Leon lay in his arms, warm and heavy and, best of all, accepting. Embracing, rather than pushing away in a panic. This was good. D had enough, for now.
Just then, though, Leon spoke, breaking the spell of silence around them both. "You all right?" he whispered.
"Yes," D replied, his voice also hushed.
"I didn't hurt you?"
"No." D could hear the warmth in his tone. It had been a very long time since he had allowed a human to take him; in his last few encounters, lo those many centuries ago, he had been the aggressor. By then, he had become disenchanted with humans as a whole, and it had felt like the natural order of things. But Leon had seemed to need it; and truth to tell, it had been marvelous, wonderful -- if a little painful -- to feel Leon inside him, very close.
'Touching you,' Leon had said. Always, my Detective. Touching him in ways that no one else could, and, D suspected -- knew -- no one else ever would. He had embarrassed Leon earlier, he knew, but he had been speaking truthfully: Leon was unrefined, but he would be a good role model for Chris, if D could manage to curb some of his more…crass tendencies. Well, perhaps. It did make D wonder where Leon had acquired those crass tendencies in the first place, speaking of male role models. He knew something of Leon's mother, but very little else. What had made his Detective into the man he was? What forces had shaped this man into the only human being who could touch D thusly? He had always wanted to know, but to ask, before, would have meant that Leon would have felt free to ask about D's own family. And that would have been most impractical. No such restrictions existed now. "Leon," he said, hearing the hesitation in his voice.
"Yeah?" Leon asked, sounding sleepy.
"What was your father like?"
The silence in the room changed instantly. It had been a mellow, content silence; now the room was charged with tension. Leon's body went stiff against D's. D bit his lip and combed his fingers through Leon's hair again, in what he hoped was a soothing motion. "Beats me," Leon said.
Oh dear. "You don't know?" D asked tentatively.
"No, 'cause he was never there," Leon said, his voice flat. D could not see his face in this position, but he could imagine it: wary, defensive, angry. As usual. "I don't remember that much about him, to tell you the truth. He was never home. But he could never hold down a job for more than a few months, either, so hell if I knew where he went instead. He walked out on us when I was thirteen. Mom and I moved to New York to be near Phil and Eileen, and I haven't seen him since."
"Then where were you born?"
"California. I went back when it was time for me to go to college. I got a scholarship." Leon took a slow, deep breath, as if straining for calm. Well, at least he was trying. "No thanks to him. Bastard never gave a damn about me or anything I did, how I was doing in school, or anything. All he was good for was using Mom up and then throwing her away, like we'd never been part of his life at all."
"He left when you were thirteen?" D asked, frowning as something occurred to him. "Then he isn't -- he can't be -- Chris's father?"
"Christ, is this your idea of pillow talk?"
D's fingers froze. "I'm sorry," he said. "I did not know. I was merely curious."
"Hell." Leon sighed heavily. "I know. It's not your fault. And I mean -- there's no reason you shouldn't know. Well, okay, see -- Mom always took good care of me. Real good care. And she worked hard, all the time, especially after Dad left, so we'd have enough. That was all she did. Work, and me. I had a part-time job when I was old enough, and Phil helped out some, but things still got tight." He took another deep breath, and D began stroking his hair again. "So, when I got that scholarship and went to school in L.A…it was the first time she didn't have to worry about me. I think she just wanted to -- I don't know. Have some fun or something. Meet some guys. She never dated anybody, in all the time after Dad walked, until I left for school. And I guess she just wasn't, wasn't careful enough or something. She probably thought she was too old for anything to happen by then."
"Ah," D said, feeling a surge of pity. Humans -- always chasing their dreams with their last breath, never giving up on the quest for love, for satisfaction, for something to ease the monotony and drudgery of life.
Perhaps he was better-suited to joining their company than he'd thought.
"Yeah. So. She got pregnant. She wasn't healthy. Smoked a lot, had a couple other problems. Along came Chris, and that was that. I don't even know the name of his real dad. She never told me. Never told anyone, as far as I know. Not like it matters. Asshole never showed his face, never offered to help out, nothing. I don't know why the hell she picked guys who would DO that to her -- she deserved better -- " Leon's voice grew harsh, rough with anger and remembered pain. D was fascinated by these revelations, and yet, felt keen remorse that he had inadvertently re-opened a wound like this. He thought about saying something, but Leon was plowing ahead, seeming only peripherally aware that D was there, talking almost to himself. "She wasn't stupid. She was quality. Real class. After Dad left, I swore I'd grow up into the kind of guy who could have done right by her -- I wasn't gonna be like him -- "
"You aren't," D whispered.
Some knot in Leon's body seemed to unclench then. He relaxed a little, and D couldn't help but wonder how long Leon had been waiting for someone to tell him that. "You'd've liked her," he muttered. "She was a lot nicer than me."
"Oh, I'm sure of that," D said, and kissed the top of Leon's head. "I saw the picture of her in your old apartment. You and Chris both favor her remarkably."
"Yeah, thank God," Leon said. "That's the way I'd want it, if you let me pick. But goddammit. It makes me so fucking mad. Every time I think about it -- what a shit life she had."
"She had you," D said, feeling something hot and protective beginning to bubble around his heart. "I am sure she found that compensation enough. But I am sorry for bringing up something that has hurt you."
"Cut it out. I already said it wasn't your fault, okay?" Leon moved his head from D's chest, scooting up the bed so that he was more level with D, but never letting him go. He didn't meet D's eyes as he wrapped his arms more securely around D's waist, tugging him in close in a maneuver that already felt very familiar. "People always leave," he said quietly. "You get to where you can't stand it sometimes. It sucks. It's too much. It's wrong."
And D had left, too. Regret and guilt clogged his throat for a moment, and he rested his head against Leon's shoulder, reminding himself forcefully that at least he'd come back. "It is," he said quietly. He understood how Leon felt about creatures leaving, abandoning -- understood far better than Leon could possibly know. If Leon missed individuals, D had the memory of whole lost species in his heart, even if it was a heart that now pumped human blood. It was a pain that he hoped he would never stop feeling; it would be wrong to lose that pain.
The silence lay between them again, but not as tense as before. D was thinking that perhaps he should mention a late lunch -- food was always a guaranteed way to pacify Leon -- when Leon asked, "So what about you? How'd you grow up? I mean…I'm guessing it was…uh, different." D fought back his smile, hearing the eager curiosity Leon was obviously trying to suppress. "Like -- how old are you?"
At another time, D might have given Leon a mock-lecture on how it was impolite to ask people their ages. But that seemed inappropriate for this moment, when Leon had just given him truth. So he said, "Just over a thousand years."
This time the silence felt stunned. "Holy shit," Leon said weakly, after a moment.
"Language," D tutted.
"Okay," Leon said, still sounding shocked. Then he shook his head rapidly. D looked up at his face and saw that he'd gone somewhat bug-eyed. "All right. A thousand. All…all right. We'll just put something different on your birthday cake, okay? Oh, hell, when is your birthday?"
"I have no idea," D said, amused by the sight of a flustered Leon. He'd always enjoyed Leon when he was flustered. "Feel free to pick something you can remember."
"Right," Leon said. "Right." He shook his head again. "Okay. But, but what about your family? You didn't have a mom, did you? I mean, I know about your grandfather and all, and your da…" Leon's voice suddenly trailed off, and D felt him go tense again. It had undoubtedly just occurred to Leon that he had been the one to kill D's father. The silence this time, D decided, could best be described as 'awkward.' They had not yet spoken of that, it was true. It was the sort of thing one should discuss with one's lover, he supposed.
So he said, his voice quiet and calm, "Please do not distress yourself, Leon."
"But I -- I mean -- you know he was gonna -- he tried to -- "
"I know," D said patiently. "I do know. I bear you no ill will, Leon. Would I be here if I did?"
"You looked upset," Leon muttered. "When it happened. You were all…crouched over him."
"He was my father," D said. "It is not only humans who mourn lost chances, and what might have been -- should have been. But we were never close. He did not care for me as a father should care for a son. My grandfather assumed that role early in my life."
"So…kind of…similar," Leon said. 'To, uh. Me. I guess."
"A little," D agreed. "I suppose he regarded me as a sort of amusing experiment, at least at first. You remember what he told you about my…creation." His skin still crawled at that memory. Standing before Leon and Howell with his father's hands on his arm and at his throat, as if he was showing off a prize specimen rather than his child. No -- D did not blame Leon for killing him.
"Yeah," Leon said. "So…not so much with the closeness. Okay. What about your -- your grandfather?" D could hear the anger in Leon's voice as he said the word, and it warmed and hurt his heart at the same time. "You two must've been pretty close…I mean, if he tried to…"
"He loved me, yes," D said, feeling his throat go thick against his will. "That was why he took me away from my father. He was never demonstrative, however. And he taught me -- or tried to teach me -- to be indifferent to the suffering of humans. He was not cruel, as my father was. But he was cold." Very cold. It was, in fact, almost impossible for D to reconcile his stone-faced grandfather with the little Q-chan who had loved to play with him, be petted and spoiled by him, give him kisses with tiny rabbit-whiskers. The memory of Q-chan, in fact, evoked a far stronger pang of regret than did the memory of his grandfather. Perhaps that was not so surprising. Had his grandfather found it easier to display his affection for D, to show his love, while in the guise of another being? Gods such as they were not meant to love, after all, but to judge and to protect. D supposed that if you wore the face of a thing for long enough, it was possible that you might begin to think in the manner of that thing as well. Given enough time, might D develop a human mind to go with this human body? He repressed a shudder. He hoped not. It was something to beware.
But hunger was also something to beware. The last few hours had been energetic, to say the least. They had rested in between turns, of course, but he was ravenously hungry. How strange that he did not crave sweets -- he could not remember ever really wanting anything else. Instead, now he caught himself thinking wistfully of the rice and tofu he'd bought yesterday, and more tea. A human mind, indeed. And he wanted another shower. "Would you like some lunch?" he asked.
"Huh? Oh," Leon said, sounding a little surprised. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good." His stomach rumbled, right on cue. "Want me to help you make it?"
D considered that for all of two seconds. "You can…boil the rice," he said, deciding that even Leon couldn't ruin that, if D kept an eye on him. "I will take care of the tofu and the salad."
"The what and the what?" Leon asked, sounding horrified.
"I am not cooking meat," D said firmly, deciding that they might as well get this settled from the outset. "You will have to do that for yourself, if you want it. It is not so bad, Leon." He patted Leon's arm. "I am sure that in time you will come to like tofu very much indeed. I shall fry it," he added in a concession. "That way it will be nice and crunchy."
"Crunchy tofu," Leon said. "My favorite." D glared at him and he held up his hands. "Rice. Right! Rice." Close enough to the correct response. Perhaps the Detective would finally learn not to bite the hand that fed him?
D doubted it.
Leon didn't quite manage to burn all of the rice, although the pot would need a few hours of soaking before the brown crust at the bottom could be scraped off. D made sure Leon knew very well who would be doing the scraping, and sent him to get another shower while he finished preparing lunch by himself. They ate, and Leon was forced to admit that the tofu was indeed crunchy, and didn't taste "totally horrible" in a ginger sauce. Although, given that he grimaced through most of the meal, D suspected that he was only trying to make up for burning the rice.
D had his second shower after lunch, and emerged from it feeling relaxed -- well, perhaps 'exhausted' would be a better term. He ached all over, and his flesh was very tender in certain places. He couldn't say he regretted a moment of it, but he did hope the limp would wear off by tomorrow. The hot water should help. In the meantime, a nap sounded like a wonderful idea, especially now that he had a full stomach.
He made his way into the bedroom, and saw that Leon was already fast asleep. He looked rather as if he needed it. D took a moment to admire the lovely collection of bruises he'd given his Detective on the throat and chest. Oh dear -- Leon's shirts would not hide those. D put his hand over his mouth to stifle a giggle as he tried to imagine Leon explaining the bruises to Phil Sampson tomorrow. Or at the police station on Monday. Well…perhaps that was not so funny, D realized with a faint pang of unease. It would not be good for Leon to present an unprofessional appearance on his first day of work -- not that Leon himself would care much -- and besides, people might ask questions. D knew that most police departments were not very tolerant of homosexuality; the officers in Los Angeles had always liked him, especially the Chief, but he knew that they had teased Leon about their 'relationship.' It would have been worse if the relationship had actually existed at the time: less teasing and more shunning, he was sure. He did not wish Leon to be put into any danger or hardship because of their situation. Surely there had been enough hardship already? When did it ever end?
Another moment of human weakness. Wishful thinking! D shook his head in disgust as he doffed his bathrobe and put his pajamas back on. He saw that Leon had made himself useful before dropping off to sleep, and had turned the sheets inside-out. Bless him. The small observation lightened the weight that had descended on D's heart, a little. He was smiling when he crawled into bed next to Leon and fell asleep.
When they woke up, it was nearly dinnertime. While Leon scraped out the rice pan, D fixed a light salad -- which Leon stared at with an expression of genuine pain and suffering, but ate gamely enough. D half-suspected that Leon's aversion to healthy foods was one shared by most Americans: that it just "tasted gross" and wasn't as "filling" as the junk he consumed every day. But then, Leon hadn't had the benefit of vegetarian meals that were properly prepared for most of his life. He'd taken to Wong's little feast like a duck to water, after all, before he'd known he wasn't eating meat. Given time, D believed he would adapt. It would help, of course, that Leon didn't actually have to prepare the food himself. It was always easier to maintain a healthy diet if someone else kept putting the plate in front of you. But D had no intention of losing Leon to a heart attack at the age of forty, and if that's what he had to do, he'd happily do it. At least he enjoyed cooking.
After dinner, Leon made good on his promise to call Jill. This time, they sat at the kitchen table. Leon, who could not understand D's reluctance to speak to Chris unclothed, seemed to think it was an excellent idea to talk to Jill while keeping at least two feet of distance between D and himself.
D listened with only half an ear while Leon went through the usual greeting procedures of telephone conversation. He'd never cared for telephones, and had resented the necessity of keeping one for a business. Although he had to admit that Leon made far shorter shift of it than many people did: much less 'how are you?' much more 'let's get to business,' with very little politesse in between.
"Yeah, he's here," Leon was currently snapping, looking more out-of-sorts than he had all day, even when discussing their families. Well, this was a different kind of feeling: less genuine pain, and far more of Leon's usual irritation. D was much more comfortable with this, and did not let it disturb him as he sipped at his tea. "I mean…really…I'm calling you back, but I pretty much told you everything I know yesterday. Nothing's changed much. Today?" D watched in pleased fascination as Leon's face suddenly went as red as a tomato. "Oh -- we just -- um, took it easy today. Yesterday was long and all, and we each start work on Monday, so…yeah. Hey, speaking of work, can you -- oh, Christ, let that go, will you? Look, I said we took it easy. Jill. Okay. Thank you." D muffled a chuckle behind his hand, and then looked innocently into the depths of his teacup when Leon glared at him. "Yeah, like I was saying, we both start work on Monday. I got the job with the NYPD, and D landed a job in an antiques store. Don't ask me how. You can talk to him in a minute. He says his employer's cool," it was amazing how much doubt Leon could infuse into a simple sentence, "but he's still gonna need some vital stats. Think you can hook him up with a birth certificate and all that stuff?" Then he sighed. "Okay." Then he offered the phone to D. "She wants to talk to you."
D took the phone. "Hello, Miss Jill," he said warmly into the receiver. He had always rather liked Leon's friend; she was far more polite than Leon, and had always been very friendly to D, although they had never become close.
Although, for someone who was not close to him, she sounded positively delighted to hear his voice. "Count D!" she exclaimed, her voice perilously close to a squeal. D held the receiver away from his ear for a moment. Leon rolled his eyes. "I can't believe it! I thought you were dead!"
"No, not dead," D said, with a small smile at Leon, "merely…misplaced for a time. It is good to hear from you again, Miss Jill. I trust you are well?"
"Well, I just got back from vacation, and there's a good chance I'll be getting engaged soon -- so yeah, I guess I'm pretty good."
"My congratulations, in advance," D said politely. "He is a very lucky man."
"Yeah, well, don't count the chickens and all," Jill said, but the bubbles didn't go out of her voice. "So -- your being 'misplaced' -- this is the sort of thing maybe I shouldn't ask about, right?"
"Perhaps that would be best," D agreed. "I will say that it is nothing to worry about."
"I'll take your word for it," Jill said. "So, you need a birth certificate."
"Yes."
"Okay. What Roger is doing, is looking through the records to find a certificate for a Chinese boy infant who died shortly after being born, you know, twenty-odd years ago. That'll be our best bet, since there won't be any living man around to complicate it, and it's not likely that anybody will ask questions. Things are a little complicated by the fact that you've already got a name, of course, and I can't guarantee we'll find one that matches closely. Or at all."
"I understand," D said, wishing now that he had not asked Zhou to name him, although it had seemed a good diplomatic maneuver at the time.
"But Cheng is a fairly common last name, and there are a lot of Chinese people in L.A. We might be able to find something with the right surname. No promises, though. You might just have to get used to a name change."
Again? Well, he'd only had this one for a few days. "I understand," he repeated. "Thank you very much, Miss Jill. I appreciate your help."
"Not a problem. I'll let you know as soon as we find something. You'll have to apply for it, supply the proper information that's on the certificate -- date of birth, place of birth, all that. Which I, of course, will be in a position to give you, so there should be no problem there."
"Well…good," D said, and added another "Thank you," when he was unable to think of anything else useful to say.
"Well, over here my Saturday evening is just getting started, and Roger will be by any minute to pick me up," she said. "I have to go now. I just want to tell you, while Leon's not on the line -- he's not listening in, is he?"
"No," D said with a little smile.
"Okay. Just checking. I just want to say…" she hesitated. "I don't know how to put this. Um. Damn. Well, just be happy, okay? I -- for a while, I always kinda hoped you two would -- "
D raised his eyebrows. "What's she saying?" Leon asked suspiciously, but D waved a hand to silence him.
"Oh, never mind," Jill finished, sounding embarrassed. "Just be happy, Count. Don't let him give you any of his shit."
"I never do," D said, and smiled again.
"Yeah. I know. You can handle him. But -- he's good, Leon is. He really is. And he deserves -- good things. So you be good to him, too." She paused. "That's all, I guess."
"I will be," D said, hearing his own conviction, quiet and sure, in the words. Leon was leaning on his elbows, practically lying across the table as he strained to listen. D merely gave him a small smile in return for his frustrated scowl.
"She talked to you longer than she did to me," Leon muttered when D hung up. "Figures."
"She cares about you very much," D reproved gently as he gave Leon back his phone. "I am certainly very grateful to her for all that she is doing to help me."
"Yeah, well. She always thought you were the cat's pajamas. You know that."
"And you?" The question got out before D could stop it. Leon blinked in surprise, and D quickly tilted his head to the side and smiled his most coquettish smile to make the question seem less serious than it had really been.
Leon turned a dull shade of red, and rubbed the back of his neck as he stared down at the table. "You're…I always thought…aw, c'mon, D, stop teasing me."
"Where will I find my fun, then?" D asked, hiding his sudden disappointment behind a playful smirk. Well, this was Leon, after all -- what had D expected? He rose from his chair without knowing why, and without any fixed idea of where he would go or what he would do next. But just then, as he had done at breakfast, Leon reached out and seized hold of his hand across the table. He didn't pull D into his lap this time, though, and he wasn't looking D in the eye, just at their joined hands.
"You're different," he mumbled. "You're not like anybody else. I always knew that. I always knew there was something about you. I just didn't know what."
D had no idea what that meant, or how to respond to it, or even if he should. It was moments like this in which Leon's unpredictable side was more maddening than entertaining. "Oh," he said. "I see."
Leon looked at him then. "No, you don't," he said. Then he stood up, and, still keeping hold of D's hand, crossed around the table and tugged D into his arms. He didn't kiss him, didn't embrace him, just looked down into his face. "I got some time to figure you out now, Count," he said, and cupped D's cheek, tilting his head upward. "I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna know who you are. Just you wait."
Then Leon kissed him, slowly, and searchingly, as if the kiss was another part of his quest. D felt his knees begin to tremble.
Their lips parted, and Leon whispered again, "I'm gonna figure you out."
D's last thought, before they kissed again, was that he would never be able to return the favor.
Leon was coming today!
Chris knew, in one part of his mind, that it had only been a day and a half since he'd last seen Leon, and that he'd gone for months before without seeing his big brother at all. But for some reason it still felt like a really long time. He just wished Count D could have come too. He hadn't given much of a reason why he couldn't, over the phone. But the Count often did strange things and never gave a reason for them.
He still couldn't believe his brother and the Count were sharing an apartment. Count D had hated his brother's old apartment. Chris had been with him the first time he'd seen it. Chris had just been getting to know the Count at the time, so he hadn't realized how unusual it was for him to lose his cool, go into such a rage that he was actually tearing those posters of the naked women off the walls. Would Leon try and put stuff like that up in the new place? Chris almost giggled at the thought, even as he realized it would probably be a really bad thing and would definitely make his brother and the Count start fighting. They'd been really nice to each other for the past couple of days, as far as Chris could see, but how long could that last? They were never able to go for a long time without yelling at each other about something. Then again, they always forgave each other really quickly too, sometimes so quickly that Chris almost missed the fight entirely. It was such a normal part of every day that usually it didn't bother him too much.
But sometimes they'd fought about him. That had been awful, whether it had been something stupid, like making sure he ate all his vegetables, or something more serious, like whether or not he should be allowed to go out by himself. Chris had always wanted to tell them that he'd be happy to eat every single pea and never set foot outside again, ever, if they'd just stop yelling, but they'd always seemed more interested in the fight itself than whatever it was they were fighting about. Maybe now that he wasn't living with them, that wouldn't matter anymore. The thought made him feel like there was a ball of lead sitting in his stomach. It was all so hard. He wanted to be with the Count and Leon because he loved them, but he didn't want to make any trouble. And he wanted to live with his family, too. Why were things so complicated? Why couldn't they just all be together and be happy?
Chris sighed, and flipped over another page in his coloring book. He was almost finished. It was a Dragonball-Z book, and he was starting to get bored with it. Mom had promised to get him a Harry Potter one when he'd finished. It was important to finish what you started, she said. It was important to see things through. Leon and the Count had always told him the same thing, too, so he guessed that was true. But he started school tomorrow, and he'd probably have a lot less time for coloring. Martin down the street had told him that second grade had lots more homework.
He was looking forward to school, even though he was a little scared about it, too. He hadn't seen his friends for a whole school year. He hoped he wasn't still the shortest kid in the class. It seemed like he was never going to grow up at times. And that was something Count D had expressly told him to do, back before he'd disappeared: Grow up, so you can protect the ones you love… Just like Leon did. Leon's job was important, no matter what Dad said. Chris couldn't think of any better job anywhere. He wanted it too. So he'd get through school and grow up, even if it did mean extra homework.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Chris jumped up from his bed. Leon! He flew to the bedroom door and then down the hall, just in time to see his dad -- looking kind of crabby -- opening the door to his big brother. "C'mon in, Leon," Dad said.
"Thanks, Phil."
"Ride up okay?"
"Yeah. Trains aren't too bad."
"How's your friend?"
"Fine."
Chris couldn't work out why Leon and Dad were scowling at each other. It made him nervous, and he stood very still at the top of the stairs, not sure what to do or say, not wanting to call attention to himself. Just then, though, Leon looked up and spotted him. His big brother quickly stopped scowling and started smiling, though Chris thought it looked a little fake. "Chris! How's it going, buddy?"
"Fine," Chris said, lingering by the banister, still looking anxiously at his dad. Dad wasn't frowning any more, but he had that angry look around his eyes.
Leon stuck his hands in his pockets and came up the stairs. Chris noticed that he had his shirt collar buttoned all the way up to the top, which he never had before. It looked weird. It was probably to hide those funny little bruises that Chris could clearly see peeking up behind the collar's edge. How did you even get bruises on your neck? Well, Count D had always said that Leon was "forever getting himself into ridiculous scrapes." And Leon looked fine, otherwise. It didn't seem to be anything to worry about. "You start school tomorrow," Leon said.
"Yeah," Chris said, shrugged, and smiled.
"Looking forward to it?"
"Sort of."
"Well…good." Leon rubbed the back of his neck, the way he always did when he didn't know what to say. Chris kept his gaze fixed on his brother as he reached the top of the stairs, resolutely not looking at Dad. "Well…here I am. I can't stay long, sorry. Told D I'd be back for supper. Wanna help me get my stuff? Is it still in the guest room?"
"Yeah," Chris said again, recognizing a clear cue, and led the way. He and Leon entered the guest room, which Mom had re-made that very morning with fresh sheets. Leon's stuff had been lying all over the floor, but she'd packed it neatly away in the duffle bag and set it in a corner. Seeing it, Leon looked alarmed.
"Eileen got in my bag?"
"Yeah, she put your clothes away," Chris said, not sure what the big deal was. "She even washed them for you yesterday," he added, feeling as if his brother ought to know that. Mom had been a lot nicer to Count D than Dad had, and didn't seem to mind so much that he and Leon had been staying here.
But all Leon said was, "Yeah, huh," as he hurried to his duffle, unzipped it, and hurriedly rifled through its neatly-folded contents, a scowl on his face. Then, as he reached the bottom of the bag, the scowl cleared.
"What is it?" Chris asked.
Leon looked over his shoulder at him, a half-smile on his face. "Something I almost forgot I'd brought with me," he said. "Just wanted to check and make sure it was all right. No big deal. Well…I guess I'm ready to go, then…" His expression changed then as he looked at Chris. He looked more hesitant, more unhappy.
Chris ran forward and flung his arms around Leon's neck. Leon grabbed him close and knuckled him on the head. "All right, buddy," he said quietly. "All right."
Was it? That was all Chris wanted. For everything to be all right. "Promise," he whispered into Leon's shoulder.
"I promise," Leon said, and patted his back a little awkwardly. Leon was good at knuckling and Indian burns and hair-ruffling, but not so good with actual hugs, Chris had very quickly learned. Not long hugs, anyway. Count D gave good hugs, although he didn't give them often. Then he tried to picture Count D hugging his brother, and had to stifle a grin, because it seemed so impossible. Leon would hate that.
"Just so long as everything's all right," he said, and added quickly, "and I get to come for a visit soon."
"I'm just about to talk to your dad about that, actually," Leon said, and Chris thought he sounded kind of grim. "You stay up here, okay? Just let us talk by ourselves. Has -- uh, has your dad said anything since we've been gone? About me or D?"
"Some stuff," Chris admitted in a small voice as he let Leon go. "Nothing really bad. He made me go to church today because of you," he added, scowling. And it had been really boring, too.
"Hell," Leon muttered. Then he seemed to think hard about something. After a moment, he said, "Chris…your dad…well, both your parents love you, you know that. And your dad doesn't like D very much, so he doesn't seem to want you around him. He's just trying to look out for you, even if he's going about it wrong, is what I'm saying. Okay?"
"Okay," Chris said, not understanding at all. "Why doesn't he like Count D?"
"Well -- he thinks -- I mean, it's true -- oh, shit. I'll tell you when you're older," Leon said. Chris scowled. He hated it when people said that. "Look, I'm gonna go talk to your dad. Stay put, okay? Go back to doing whatever you were doing."
"Coloring," Chris said, watching as Leon picked up his duffle and headed for the door.
"Sounds great," Leon said absently. Then he looked back at Chris with more attention. "Don't worry," he said firmly, and went through the door.
Of course Chris didn't go back to coloring. He crouched in the open doorway of his bedroom and listened to the conversation between Leon and Dad as it floated up the stairs. Mom was there, too. He couldn't catch everything -- he thought they were standing in the kitchen, maybe -- but snatches of the conversation made their way to him. Phrases like,
"…too far away."
"…come get him…ucking train God's sake…"
"Phil…reasonable…"
"Don't want…that…my son."
"He's my brother!" That came through loud and clear as Leon's voice rose into a shout.
"Leon…calm…stop it Phil you know you…"
Then the voices dropped into lower murmurs. It sounded like everybody was trying very hard to be reasonable. After a few more minutes, Chris caught Leon saying, "One weekend a month." His heart leapt. That didn't sound like very much, but it was better than nothing, and besides, Leon lived pretty far away. Please let Dad agree…please…
He couldn't hear what his father said, but nobody started shouting, and nobody's voice changed tones. That could be a good sign. Then they all started making 'goodbye' noises, and Leon called up the stairs, "Chris? I'm about to go!"
Chris ran from the doorway and hurtled down the stairs, trying very hard not to look like he'd been listening. Leon looked happy, which could only mean that Chris was going to be allowed to visit. Dad didn't look happy, but at least his face wasn't all blotchy and red. Mom had her arms folded and was glaring at him before she turned to smile at Chris. "Chris, what do you think about visiting your brother for one weekend every month?" she asked.
"Yeah!" Chris said, grinning from ear to ear.
"Sounds pretty good, right, squirt?" Leon asked, and ruffled Chris's hair before he slung his duffle over his shoulder. "Glad we got that worked out. Well -- I gotta head out. I'll call when we have things all set up. Hell, call me tomorrow and tell me how school went, okay?"
"I wish you two would watch your language," Mom snapped, looking at Dad and Leon. "It may be too late for Joyce, but I don't want my son growing up to swear like a sailor." Chris thought about saying he was going to be a policeman, not a sailor, but now didn't seem the time for that, for some reason.
"Oh -- uh -- right," Leon said, not quite looking Mom in the eye. Neither was Dad. Leon and Dad did look kinda alike, now that Chris thought about it. "Well…I'm out of here. Later, Chris."
Chris gamely submitted to another hair-ruffle. "Bye, Leon."
"It was nice to have you for a few days, Leon," Mom said, smiling again. Then she gave Dad a pointed look before adding, "You'll have to come by for one of our afternoon barbecues sometime. I know it's too far for you to travel just for dinner. And bring Count D, he's so polite."
"I'm going to watch TV," Dad snapped, and stalked into the living room without saying goodbye to Leon. Everybody watched him leave, and Chris got an unhappy feeling in his stomach again.
Mom put her arms around him and drew him in close. "He'll get over it," she said to Leon.
"He might as well," Leon said. He gave that half-smile that didn't really look like a smile at all. "Bye."
Then he was gone. Chris ran to the kitchen window and watched him walk down the street, duffle over his shoulder, one hand in his pocket.
Leon had never been this happy to see his old apartment door, he was pretty sure. But God, what a long trip. And he'd stressed all the way up to Long Island, worrying about what he'd say to Chris, worrying even more about what he'd say to Phil. Worrying that he'd totally lose his cool, end up shouting and blow everything, give Phil an excuse to keep him away from Chris. And how would he have explained that to D?
But it had all worked out. Thank God for Eileen. The one person Uncle Phil feared, at least a little. It was funny, what he'd seen, growing up: how Uncle Phil hardly ever gave in to Eileen on the little things, but she always won out when something big was at stake. Always. If she was on your side, it was your ace in the hole.
He unlocked the door and swung it open to see D sitting at the kitchen table, looking exhausted, his head resting in his hand. Just at a quick glance, Leon could tell he'd been busy -- it looked like there was more stuff in the kitchen, and the whole place smelled like a weird mixture of lemon polish and incense. It wasn't quite the pet shop's incense, but it was close enough to give Leon an eerie jolt of familiarity. "Hey," he said in mild alarm as D looked up. Leon shut the door behind him. "You okay?"
"Fine," D said with a wan smile. "Just tired. Is Chris going to be allowed to come?" he added anxiously.
"One weekend a month," Leon said, plunking himself down in another chair with considerable satisfaction. "Which is about as much as we could manage, I think, since he's pretty far. Not bad, huh?"
D's smile was less wan and more admiring now. Leon felt his chest puff up at the sight of it. Damn, when D looked at you like you'd done something right -- you knew you really had done something right. "I am so glad," he said. "How wonderful, Leon. I admit I was worried about your uncle."
"Well, it sure as hell wasn't his idea," Leon said. "I got Eileen on my side. That helped." He looked more closely at D. He did look tired, but not in that really bad way he had before. It probably helped that he'd slept all the way through last night, even after they'd had their long nap on Saturday afternoon. "So what've you been up to while I've been gone?"
"Oh…well," D said. "I took the money you left me and got a few more things for the kitchen, and a lamp for the bedroom." That'd be useful, Leon thought, for when he didn't want to get up to turn on the light. The thought stirred a low fire in his belly that he knew D would be way too tired to accommodate -- and so was he, if he was going to be honest. They'd damn near killed each other yesterday. It had been worth it, though. "I cleaned a little…then I spent the past two hours or so putting up protections around our apartment. The ones I told you about."
Leon sat up straighter in his chair. "Protections? That's why the incense?"
"Yes."
"So…no more Grandpa," Leon said carefully. "He can't bug you anymore."
"Or you," D said, looking intently at Leon. "From the way he spoke to me, I do not believe he has any intention of coming back in any case. But I believe your saying is 'better safe than sorry'."
"No kidding," Leon said. "But you just put them up around our place? What about when you go out? Can he -- you know -- " Leon made a quick, grasping motion with his hand. "Snatch you then?"
"It doesn't quite work like that," D said with a small smile. "At any rate, I've done all I can do, and I think we are as safe from him as we can ever be. As I said, I do not believe he will return to trouble us. I think he has given up on me."
Leon wanted to believe that, so he decided to, for right now. D knew his own grandfather, he guessed. Then he glanced down at his duffle bag, and remembered something. He grinned at D as he scooped it up into his lap and began to unzip it. "I got something for you," he said.
D raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"
"Yeah. I've actually had it the whole time," Leon admitted. "It's just -- you know -- what with one thing and another, I kinda forgot all about it. But I thought you'd want it." He dug through his clothes again -- they did smell laundry-fresh, and he realized he'd forgotten to thank Eileen. Oh well, he'd remember to do it later. In the meantime, he unzipped the inside pocket, from which he withdrew a folded piece of paper. He handed the paper to D, who looked confused -- and then astonished, as he unfolded the paper. It was the crayon drawing Chris had made of him, Leon, Tet-chan, and Pon-chan back at the pet shop. Crayon-Leon was waving a gun and appeared to be yelling about something. Crayon-D was smiling beatifically. A happy Crayon-Chris was positioned between them with the animals on either side. It had been the only thing in the suitcase the Count had tried to take with him when he'd fled. Now he was staring at it, mouth opening and shutting, but with no words coming out.
"Well, hell, you tried to take it with you to the moon," Leon mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I figured it was important to you. So I've sort of, you know, been carrying it around. Just in case."
D did not look up immediately, but he bit his lip, and his knuckles tightened on the paper. "Thank you," he said in a low voice.
"Well, it's not like it was a big deal," Leon said, feeling unaccountably embarrassed.
"Maybe you don't think so," D whispered, and smoothed the drawing flat on the table. "We'll have this framed."
Leon had just planned to stick it on the refrigerator, but decided he'd keep his mouth shut about that. If it meant that much, hell, okay. Just so long as D didn't want to frame everything Chris drew. What the hell were they going to put up on the walls, anyway? It felt naked in here without stuff on the walls. Obviously the porn babes were out. He'd have to find some good sporting prints. Maybe something really classy with an autograph or two. And D could get some…Chinese thing. Whatever. "If you want," he said.
"I do want," D said, and smiled up at Leon, a much more real smile this time. "What a wonderful present. This deserves a reward, my dear Detective. I confess I am tired, but I can manage a little something for dinner."
"Oh, man, I'm starving," Leon said. "I'd eat anything. Can I help? It'd be fast -- "
"No," D said really quickly, like burning one pot of rice was some kind of unpardonable crime. It wasn't like it would happen again. Probably. "You've already been a great help," he added with a warm smile, touching the picture again as he rose from his chair. "You could put this in a place where it won't get damaged." He sniffed. "I can't fathom how it survived a trip in that duffle of yours."
"Inside zipper pocket," Leon said. "Hey, I wasn't gonna let anything happen to it." Not like he'd checked on the drawing often or anything, wondering what D had loved so much about it. Not really often. Not more than every few days, for sure. "You want me to go out and get anything?"
"No," D said, and then circled the table, bending to press a light kiss to Leon's forehead. Leon felt his face go red again. "You can just take the first shower tomorrow morning instead."
"I was gonna do that anyway," Leon grumped. "You take forever, D. I bet there's no hot water left when you're through."
"One likes to be thorough," D said as he opened the refrigerator. He smiled over his shoulder as Leon stood up, ready to put away his stuff. Thank God he finally had a change of clothes for tomorrow. "You are very good, Leon," he said quietly.
"Yeah, well," Leon said, cursing himself as he went even redder. "Don't you forget it."
"I'll do my best," D said, smiled again, and turned back to the fridge.
Comments and criticism welcome.