Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ Unwilling Sleep ❯ When Sceptres Are in Children's Hands ( Chapter 12 )
Anime/Manga: Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Supernatural / Romance / Hentai / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 04.24.2004 | Pages: 4 | Words: 8.2K | Visits: 4.2K | Status: Completed
Warnings, disclaimers, etc., can be found in the Prologue.
Unwilling Sleep, Part Twelve: When Sceptres Are in Children's Hands
Tomorrow came and went, and so, to D's surprise, did a small succession of days very much like it. He was very surprised to wake up on Friday morning at the end of that first week and realize that it was, in fact, Friday morning.
"Well, that's the way it goes," Leon had said unhelpfully when D mentioned this to him. "I'm always lookin' up and wondering where the time went. Hey…we're awake early…think we got time to…?"
They'd had just enough time, as it happened.
They went shopping on Saturday for furniture: it had been decided that next weekend would see Chris's first visit, and D was anxious that he should have a place to sleep. The tiny "office" (that was really more like a closet) would do nicely, he said, if they could find some kind of small bed or cot. For his part, Leon wanted a sofa. That way, he'd have something to comfortably sit on when he watched TV. After they got a TV, anyway. But even he had to agree that finding a bed for Chris came first.
And in this slow, subtle way, their life together began to take shape.
Come Saturday night, Chuck Phillips found himself standing outside Leon's apartment door with Ranjeet in tow. He liked his new partner a lot, but the guy was unquestionably kinda skittish. A little nervy about the whole gay thing. So Chuck had been surprised when Leon had invited him and Ranjeet over for dinner tonight. But on questioning, all Leon had to say was that "Dee wanted to meet you." For his part, Chuck sure as hell wanted to meet this Dee guy. You could have knocked him over with a feather when Leon had made that little revelation in the alleyway: nothing about him set off the old gaydar. It was getting to where Chuck almost believed him about the 'conversion' thing. Except that it was still a load of horseshit. Had to be.
Ranjeet rang the doorbell. "I hope they like chocolate," he murmured, checking the cake box he'd insisted they pick up on the way over.
"Leon said this guy likes anything sweet," Chuck replied. Twelve years and he still couldn't decide if Ranjeet's eagerness to please was adorable or a pain in the ass. Sometimes it was both. This would be the first time Leon had met Ranjeet, and Chuck still felt kinda nervous about it. Even if Leon had his own guy, it was still weird to think that someone from the force was going to meet Ranjeet as something other than Chuck's "roommate."
Chuck didn't have more time to think about it, though, because just then Leon opened the door. He smiled, but Chuck could tell he was a little weirded out by the whole situation too. Leon was a guy who was pretty easy to read, he'd discovered. "Hey," he said. "Come on in. You're Ranjeet, right? I'm Leon. Lemme take that for you."
"It's chocolate," Ranjeet said hopefully.
"Sweet," Leon said. "Dee'll go bananas. Hey Dee, they're here."
"So I hear," a quiet voice said as Leon stood aside and let Ranjeet and Chuck file through the door.
"Hey, Leon," Chuck said. Leon nodded back and they exchanged a look that said perfectly how bizarre they thought the whole thing was. It made Chuck feel a little better, anyhow. Queer politics aside, he'd never felt comfortable in a lot of social situations. And he wasn't exactly the dinner party type, as Ranjeet often reminded him.
He glanced around the apartment as he came in. How the hell could Orcot afford a place like this in Manhattan, when he'd just been with the force for a few days? He must have had something saved away. Either that or Dee had. The place was neat as a pin -- for some reason, Chuck had never thought of Leon as the neat type -- and still pretty bare, showing that its occupants had just moved in. Still, the decorations that were there were nice and tasteful, mostly Chinese except for a sporting print of the 49'ers on one wall, right next to some framed kid's drawing. Chuck grinned. He could already tell who was in charge of the home-space, and it wasn't Leon. "Nice place, Leon," he said, turning to show that shit-eating grin to his partner, just so he'd know Chuck could tell the score.
"Thanks," Leon said, but Chuck's attention had already been arrested by someone else. The mysterious Dee had just emerged from behind a kitchen counter, dressed in black Chinese clothes with his hands clasped demurely in front of him, wearing a polite smile of welcome. He was, without question, the prettiest man Chuck had ever seen, and he'd seen a fair few. For a second, in fact, Chuck had thought he was a woman. He took the cake from Ranjeet, and Chuck watched as his eyes -- holy God, were they different colors? Was one of them yellow? Had to be tinted contacts -- began to glitter with delight. The pale cheeks -- how did a Chinese guy get so white? -- flushed with pleasure, and he thanked Ranjeet with such a lovely smile that Ranjeet blushed too. And Ranjeet never blushed.
Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick.
Then those weird, beautiful eyes turned on him. "You must be Chuck," Dee murmured, his voice the most masculine thing about him, low and smooth. "I've heard so much about you. Welcome."
"Ahh, huh," Chuck said succinctly, then tried not to wince. "I mean, thanks." Leon was smirking at him, the little prick. Chuck was going to make him buy the next round of beer for this. He shook Dee's hand and worried about breaking it.
While Dee and Ranjeet, already getting along famously, fussed around in the kitchen, Chuck and Leon flopped down on what Leon called the "new used couch." "No TV yet," Leon apologized.
"I know a guy can set you up cheap," Chuck said. "Give you a good cable deal too. I'll give you his number on Monday."
"Appreciate it," Leon said, and then an awkward silence fell, punctuated by the sounds of D's and Ranjeet's conversation. What the hell -- were they talking about candy? Sometimes Chuck couldn't believe his lover. But Dee didn't sound bored or anything. "Sorry," Leon said after a second. "Without the TV on I got no idea what to talk about."
"Me either," Chuck said. "It drives Ranjeet batshit."
"Dee doesn't want a TV," Leon said more loudly, glancing over at Dee and Ranjeet in the kitchen.
"What's that, Mr. Detective?" Dee asked, with a small, playful smile on his lips. Damn, Chuck thought, nothing that pretty oughta be allowed. Maybe Leon hadn't been kidding about the 'converting' thing. But that was one weird-ass nickname Dee had for Leon.
"I said you don't want us to get a TV."
"Of course I don't," Dee sniffed. "Any more than I would want you to become an alcoholic, or develop cancer from smoking, or acquire any other habits that would be unhealthy for you. Those infernal boxes rot the human brain. It's well-documented." Jesus! Chuck practically expected him to turn up his nose at the end of that snotty little speech. What the hell could Leon have in common with this guy? Were hormones totally clouding his brain?
"I hate TV too," Ranjeet agreed, prompting an approving nod from Dee. Oh God, was he gonna start on -- he was. "Chuck's always got it on, watching some sports thing. I know it's a good way to unwind, but…" he shrugged. "Well, you guys have a stressful job," he added, looking at Leon and Chuck. "I know you need to relax."
"Reading can be very relaxing," Dee pointed out dryly as he removed a covered dish from the oven. "But I do understand what you mean…still, it makes me wonder…the human proclivity to seize on to something as a form of entertainment that doesn't require you to think."
What a weirdo. "Not this again, Dee," Leon groaned, echoing Chuck's thoughts perfectly. Even Ranjeet knew better than to go off on shit like that. To Chuck's relief, Dee nodded and murmured, "No, not now." The but later hung pretty well in the air, though. Then he said, "Dinner is ready, if you care to sit at the table?" Like he was an English butler out of one of Ranjeet's favorite movies or something. Man alive. But dinner was good. Even if it was some vegetarian thing, like Chuck didn't get enough of that at home, what with Ranjeet refusing to eat meat.
"So," Chuck asked as he sipped one of the beers they'd brought (he knew Leon drank that Bud shit and he couldn't stand it), "how'd you two guys meet? What's the story here?"
He was puzzled when Dee and Leon exchanged a startled, apprehensive glance. His cop senses went on alert. Leon never liked talking much about his home life with Dee, but Chuck just figured that was on account of him being a dumb gay man in deep denial. Maybe there was something skeevy going on, instead. But -- nah. Leon? Involved in something skeevy? Chuck had only known him for a week, but that was long enough to figure out that the boy was as straight as an arrow, morally speaking, anyway.
"It's kind of a long story," Leon mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and going pink.
"Well, we don't have to bore them with details," Dee murmured as he refilled Ranjeet's wine glass. "We met about two years ago in Los Angeles. I worked in a pet store there at the time."
There was a pause.
"And?" Ranjeet prompted.
"And then we came here," Dee said brightly. "Would anyone like some chocolate cake?" Cagey little bastard. Maybe Leon wasn't into something skeevy, but Chuck would bet the farm on this one having a checkered past. Would Leon keep him in line, or would he get Leon in trouble? Who the hell could tell? Chuck would be keeping an eye out on his partner, that was for sure. Pet store? Right. Sounded like a cover story for drug running and smuggling, if not worse.
Maybe it wasn't as bad as he was thinking. Or maybe it had been that bad before, and falling in love with a cop had put Dee back on the straight and narrow. You never could tell with these Chinese types. He sure as hell didn't look dangerous or untrustworthy -- but there was something about those eyes…
Ranjeet only scoffed at him when he mentioned his suspicions that night at home. "A criminal? Come on. He works in an antiques store. And he's crazy about Leon. You can so tell."
"Maybe he is," Chuck said, unconvinced. "Don't mean -- "
"Will you quit it with the conspiracy theories! At least for tonight. I'm beat."
"Not yet, you ain't, baby," Chuck said with a leer.
"Oh, god. Not tonight, I can't tonight, I'm dying tonight. Tomorrow morning."
"Huh," Chuck said, but got into bed next to him. "You better."
Ranjeet huffed and turned off the lamp on the nightstand. "Don't trust me? Anyway, I liked them. Both of them. I'm glad we know them. I'm glad you don't feel so alone on the force anymore."
"I ain't never felt alone," Chuck said gruffly.
Ranjeet pecked him on the cheek. "Okay, baby. I wonder what they're like in bed," he added reflectively, with a touch of the mischief that had drawn Chuck to him and made him stay there. "One guy who still swears he's straight -- not much fun. And one guy who looks like he'd break if you dropped him. Not much fun either. And they never did tell us how they met."
"I told you, something sketchy about that arrangement -- "
"Oh, forget I said anything. Night, sugar. God, we're getting old. I'm tired and I didn't even put on the party. You know Dee and Leon are worse off than we are."
"They probably ain't even figured out how to have sex yet."
"I am certain this is very unsanitary," D muttered from somewhere above Leon's head.
"Oh, shaddup," Leon said, taking the bite out of the words by kissing the pale stomach beneath his mouth.
"And the floor is cold. Do not tell me to shut up about that. You are on top."
"You sure aren't that adventurous," Leon remarked. "Although you weren't complaining a few minutes ago."
"I wasn't," D agreed with a sigh. "Mmm. I mean, stop."
"Okay."
"You are not stopping."
"You didn't convince me."
"You are such a beast," D said happily.
"So, the kitchen floor isn't that bad?"
"Perhaps not. Once in a while."
"At least we waited until they were out the door."
"It was -- difficult. Leon…"
"I kinda liked looking at you over dinner. And thinking about doing stuff to you."
"Leon…"
"And knowing they'd never know, they weren't gonna figure it out, and you're mine, as soon as they left I'd be all over you -- "
"Leon!"
"Whoah, mama!"
On Monday night, Jill called, quite excited. "I don't know how you do it, Count," she said to D, while Leon did his best to listen in. "You've got the luck of the angels on your side or something."
"Or something," D agreed with a little smile. Leon rolled his eyes. "But what exactly is it I have 'done'?"
"Well, Roger was going through the records, and he found one for a Chinese boy named 'Daniel Cheng.' Died twenty-five years ago, soon after being born. His name even starts with a D. You don't mind legally being a Daniel, do you?"
"Certainly not," D said, relieved at the turn of events. "Many parents give their children both Chinese and European names these days. I will simply say that Daniel is my legal name, but that I prefer to go by my Chinese one, if anyone asks."
Jill snickered. "Your new middle name is Herbert." D blinked. Behind him, Leon guffawed.
"Unfortunate, but necessary," D sighed, and elbowed Leon sharply in the stomach.
"Herbert," Leon wheezed. He didn't seem to mind the elbowing. "Oh my god."
"Laugh it up, Detective," D snapped.
"Oh, believe me. I will."
"Should I tell you two to get a room? Oh wait, you've already got one," Jill said.
"Oh, Miss Jill," D said reprovingly, if somewhat insincerely.
"I don't think anyone named Herbert is allowed to have a sex drive anyway," Leon said.
"My name is not Herbert!" D snapped. "What is your middle name, Leon?"
"Michael," Leon said smugly.
"Oh, that would explain it," D said, and then added confidentially to Jill, "Mr. Detective is actually very good in bed."
"D!" Leon yelled in horror, going bright red and springing away from the phone. It didn't help, because D knew he could still hear Jill's delighted squeal and cry of 'I knew it!' People in the next apartment probably could, he thought, holding the phone away from his ear.
"Or -- he's getting to be, anyway," D continued blithely.
"Gimme that phone! Don't you fucking tell her stuff like -- what do you mean, getting to be -- "
D danced around the table out of Leon's reach, unable to stop smiling as he thwarted his lover's attempts to get the phone, leading Leon a merry chase around the apartment. It was true that he was not paying much attention to Jill right now, but she did not seem to mind, as she was laughing too. This, he thought, this must be what happiness was like for humans. It was not so bad. In fact, it was good. Very good.
Leon caught him eventually, of course, but by then his ire had vanished, replaced by something very familiar, now. D bade Jill goodbye as Leon seized him in his arms, promising to supply the requisite information so that Roger could send him the birth certificate; he knew that she knew why he was hanging up, which was a little embarrassing, but he decided he could care about it later. For now, there was Leon.
"Yeah, I got you now," Leon said, and tossed the phone onto the couch cushions as he bent and claimed a kiss. Then he pulled away. "Herbert," he said with another grin.
"The first name is Daniel, Detective," D said in some exasperation. "Miss Jill was quite correct -- how serendipitous that it starts with D." Then he smiled softly up at Leon and pushed his bangs out of his eyes. Leon's face went pink and he got that adorable, befuddled expression on his face, as he always did whenever D said or did anything particularly tender. "And the name is quite appropriate in other ways, I see."
"How's that?" Leon asked blankly, and shivered as D planted a tiny kiss beneath his ear.
"Why, for Daniel in the lion's den, of course," D purred. "You have well and truly caught me, Leon -- whatever are you going to do with me?"
"I'm so damn glad you asked," Leon said with feeling, and kissed him again.
Chris could hardly wait. He'd secretly packed his overnight bag two nights ago, when Mom had told him he'd be visiting Leon and Count D for the first time this weekend. Dad had been upset, and for some reason had warned Chris extra-hard to behave. But that didn't matter. He still got to go, and that was all that was important.
Leon came by himself again. Chris had hoped Count D would come with him too, so they could ride down on the train together. He'd never taken a train before, and it would have been an even better adventure with all three of them there. Plus Q-chan. He wondered what had happened to Q-chan. Maybe the little bat-rabbit was wherever the pet shop had gone. Did Count D miss him?
Chris decided to ask Leon after they'd been on the train for about half an hour and the novelty had worn off. But Leon just looked at Chris like he'd grown another head. "Miss who?" he asked.
"Q-chan," Chris repeated impatiently. "Does Count D miss Q-chan, I said."
"God, I hope not," Leon said. This made sense. Q-chan and Leon had never gotten along, that was for sure, so Chris couldn't blame him for being glad Q-chan was gone. But that still didn't explain why Q-chan was gone. "Don't ask him about it, okay?" Leon suddenly added. Chris blinked, both surprised and dismayed, and opened his mouth to ask why. Leon forestalled him by saying, "Trust me. Just don't. He uh, he misses him, I think. Sometimes. It might make him sad if you asked, is all I'm saying. And we don't want that, right?"
"No," Chris agreed, even though he'd never seen a "sad" Count D. The Count never seemed to let stuff bother him. When Chris had left the shop -- when he'd been in tears -- the Count had been smiling, just like always, like it didn't matter to him at all. Even though Chris had known it did matter. Still, if Leon said not to bring Q-chan up, Chris had better not.
The train ride seemed to take forever, even though he and Leon played games, like counting the objects people had or used, and Leon showed him how people could conceal different types of weapons under their clothes. Especially baggy clothes. Chris paid careful attention, remembering how he and the Count had been kidnapped by that lady with a gun. If he was going to be a detective too, he'd better learn all this stuff.
It was cool, but Chris was still glad to get out of the train and follow his brother outside, through the mazes and streets of Chinatown, which fascinated him. He wanted to stop and look at a lot of things, but it was already getting dark, and Leon kept a firm hand on his shoulder so he wouldn't get lost. The Count was making them dinner, he'd said. Chris had really missed the Count's cooking. "We can look at Chinatown tomorrow," Leon told Chris. Then he grimaced. "D's already made friends with half the people who live here. We can show you around."
Chris thought that sounded great, although he suspected things wouldn't be the same in the daylight. With night falling, the neon signs were starting to light up, and food-smells were everywhere while restaurants served dinner. The sidewalks were full of people dressed up in all kinds of clothing, speaking languages that weren't always English, and the streets were still crammed with cars, even at this hour.
Leon stopped them in front of a building on the corner and made sure Chris could tell which one it was, even in the dark. Then he made Chris recite the address before he let them go inside. "You're not gonna get lost," Leon said as they went down a hallway, "but in case you do, this is what you tell people when they ask where you live. And not just any people. A cop. Like me. Make sure you see a badge."
"I will," Chris said, and then they were at the apartment, and Leon was opening the door. Chris bounded in, eyes taking in everything at once, the small table and chairs, the slightly shabby couch, some Chinese paintings on the walls. And a drawing he'd made, in a real frame! Well, it wasn't anything like the pet shop -- except for Count D, of course, who had been standing at the kitchen sink washing something when they'd come in. Now he was turning around, a brilliant smile on his face as he beheld Chris. It wasn't anything like his usual small smile at all. Chris was a little thrown by it, but excited too, and he ran forward to give the Count a hug. D held him tight and murmured, "Welcome home, Chris," and Chris thought he might burst inside from happiness.
"I missed you!" he said.
"We have missed you, too," the Count said, squeezed him again, and then let him go. "Are you hungry? Leon, did you have any trouble getting back?"
"Nah, it was cool," Leon said, scratching his head as he looked at Chris and the Count. He looked kind of uncomfortable, though Chris couldn't see why that should be. "Traffic sucks so bad, you know, it's probably faster to take a train. Uh. Hey, Chris, let me show you where to put your stuff."
"Oh, yes, your room," Count D exclaimed, pressing his hands together. Then he bit his lip. "Well -- it is a little small -- "
"Your closet," Leon said, and grinned at Chris, the uncomfortable look going away. "Think you can squeeze in here, squirt?" He opened a door that revealed a tiny space with a sloped ceiling and just enough room for a twin-sized cot that had been made up with blue sheets. There was hardly enough room to turn around.
Chris was enchanted. "This is so cool," he said, and dropped his overnight bag on the floor, sitting on the cot. He could hardly wait to go to sleep here.
Count D and Leon exchanged a relieved look. "It's not too small for you?" Count D asked. "If you do not have enough room, you could -- that is, your brother and I have agreed that when you come over, you could stay in…in our room -- "
"No, no," Chris said quickly. "I like it. I promise." He'd be just like Harry Potter, living under the stairs. Without the spiders, though, he hoped. Harry had had to sleep with spiders -- Chris quickly checked the corners. Spick and span. Well, Count D always kept everything really clean. "I want to sleep here."
"Oh good," Count D said, looking even more relieved. "I was worried -- well, never mind."
"I told you he'd be fine," Leon said, and the Count glared at him with narrowed eyes. Chris got a sinking feeling in his stomach. They weren't going to start fighting about him already, were they?
"Are we going to eat dinner?" he asked quickly. It worked. Count D's eyes got really wide, he gave a little gasp, and hurried back to the kitchenette, where a pot had just begun to boil over.
Dinner was really good. It didn't have any meat, but Chris didn't mind. Living at the pet shop had taught him that tofu counted as food, even though Leon still got a funny look on his face when he ate it. And of course there was dessert: gooey iced brownies, fresh from a bakery. By the time he'd polished off the last crumb, Chris felt his eyes starting to close: the train ride, the walk, and the big meal all combined to make him sleepy. His head nodded forward and he jerked awake. Leon and the Count were smiling at him. The atmosphere was oddly peaceful and calm. Maybe it was because the animals weren't there? Well, something was different, anyhow.
"You ready for bed, brat?" Leon asked. Chris nodded sleepily.
"I wish you would not call him that," D scolded, but he didn't sound mad.
And Leon didn't even get mad in return. "Bathroom's thataway," Leon said to Chris, and pointed. "Go brush your teeth and stuff, and we'll call it a day. Up early to see Chinatown, remember?"
"Yeah!" Chris suddenly remembered something D had said earlier. He hadn't thought about it, in his excitement over his "room," but it was coming back to him now. He frowned. It didn't make any sense. "Hey -- where do you guys sleep?" He looked over at the Count. "Did you say you just have one room?"
Count D opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he looked at Leon, who looked back at him, also opening and closing his mouth. Then they turned to stare at Chris in unison.
"Yes," D said, like he wasn't sure that was the right answer. "Your brother and I -- ah -- share the room."
"Oh," Chris said, wondering why Leon was turning so red. The apartment was pretty small, but the bedroom must be nice, if it was big enough to hold two beds. Unless the Count and his brother slept on cots like his. He couldn't picture Count D sleeping on a cot, somehow. Only one way to find out. "Can I see it?"
"No," Leon said, at the same moment Count D said, "Of course." Then his brother and the Count stared at each other again. Now they were frowning. "Why shouldn't he, Detective?" D asked, in his Polite Mad Voice.
"I, uh -- "
"I do assure you I straightened it up while you were away. It's quite presentable."
"No reason I can think of," Leon mumbled.
"I don't have to see it," Chris said.
"It's okay," Leon said.
"Your brother has had a long day, Chris," Count D confided. "He is merely tired, I'm sure." Then, to Chris's surprise, he patted Leon's shoulder in a friendly way. To Chris's greater surprise, Leon didn't shrug the touch off, or get mad about it. He just turned red again and nodded.
"Bedroom's over there, next to the bathroom," he muttered, even though Chris had already figured that much out for himself. "Uh -- house rule. Knock before you come in. Always. It's, uh, rude. Otherwise."
"Okay," Chris said, who'd learned as much from Mom and Dad, and couldn't figure out why Leon was making such a big deal out of this whole thing. Neither could Count D, apparently, because he rolled his eyes behind Leon's back and motioned for Chris to go wash up. The gesture -- a delicate flick of the wrist -- was so familiar that Chris was on his way to the bathroom before he remembered that it had been months since he'd obeyed it.
He grabbed his toothbrush from his stuff, and headed for the bathroom while Count D cleared the table. Leon was helping, which was weird. Leon never helped. Chris guessed, now that they were living in the same place and his brother wasn't a guest, it only made sense for him to help out. Even if it seemed odd. They were talking to each other in low voices Chris couldn't hear. That was new, too -- Leon and Count D whispering to each other instead of yelling. This was all familiar and weird at the same time. Chris wasn't sure what to make of it.
Chris opened the bedroom door before he went to the bathroom. To his surprise, there weren't two little beds, just one big bed, neatly made, like Mom and Dad had. He'd have to ask them about it when he got back. Chris supposed there was room enough for Leon and the Count, even if it was a little weird. The rest of the room was really neat, just like you'd expect from the Count, but not his brother. Chris shrugged, and then turned to head to the bathroom.
Leon and the Count were watching him, staring and looking like they were both holding their breath. What was with them? Chris decided to ignore it and then went to brush his teeth.
"I can't believe he doesn't think it's weird," Leon muttered as he turned down the sheets while D changed into his pajamas.
"Children are far more resilient than many give them credit for, Leon," D said.
"I thought you didn't like kids. Human ones."
"I don't."
"Oh." Leon scratched his head as he crawled into bed. "Did you lock the bedroom door?"
D frowned at him as he buttoned up his top. Leon had never met anybody else who kept their pajamas hung up in the closet so the wrinkles would fall out. "Of course not. How would Chris get in if he needed to?"
"Exactly," Leon said pointedly.
D blinked, then looked very stern. "Certainly not, Detective," he said as he got in bed beside Leon. "Not tonight, at any rate."
Oh, shit. Leon remembered D's reticence to touch him even when they talked to Chris on the phone. "Why the hell not?"
"He is sleeping not twenty feet away!" D hissed.
"You were just talking about how resilient kids are!"
"Leon!"
"Well, what's the big deal? I knew about sex when I was his age. I'd seen my dad's Playboys tons of times."
"Heaven help us," D muttered, and warded off Leon's attempted embrace. "One celibate weekend will not kill you, Leon. Please respect my wishes." Leon couldn't help but notice that his cheeks were a little pink, like he secretly wanted to. But he also knew better than to push when D put things like that. Now he was lying back flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his hands folded virtuously on top of the sheets like he was some little girl's doll. Normally he curled up on Leon like a cat, even if they weren't going to have sex. Not tonight, apparently. Cursing fate, and D's stupid morals, Leon turned off the lamp
Then he flopped back sullenly. He wasn't all that sleepy, and he'd been looking forward to capping off the week. It had been a good week, if a little weird. Chuck kept trying to ask him hard questions about D that Leon wasn't ready to answer. It was like he suspected D of being a criminal. Not that Leon could really blame him…
"So," he said. "What do we do now?"
"We sleep," D said. "Or…we could talk, I suppose."
"Talk. About what?"
"Well…about your day. You went straight to fetch Chris after work, so we've had no time to talk."
"Work was fine. Chuck thinks you're a psycho killer or something."
"I do not like your partner," D complained. "He is uncouth and untrusting."
"He's an okay guy. We get along."
"I'm sure."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." D's voice suddenly sounded warmer. "Only that certain aspects of his personality remind me of you, from when we first met. Although I liked you a great deal better, of course."
Leon could feel his face getting red and was glad it was dark. "Oh," he said, and winced when his voice came out hoarse. The silence in the room became charged.
"Well," D said, a little faintly. "I think I'm going to…try to get some sleep. Good night, Leon."
"Night," Leon muttered. He wasn't about to go to sleep. He knew D wasn't, either.
Gonna be a long night.
Chris woke up and wasn't sure where he was, right away. This was way smaller than his room. And this wasn't his bed. And where were his posters?
Then he remembered, and made himself wake up, even though he was still a little sleepy. He was staying with Leon and the Count! And Leon had said they would explore Chinatown today, and that just couldn't wait. He scrambled out of the cot and out of his room, and hurried over to the closed bedroom door. It was still dark outside. He wondered what time it was. Remembering what Leon had said, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.
Nothing happened. Chris pressed his ear to the door and, through it, could hear the sound of Leon snoring away. He knew from experience that just knocking on the door would never wake his brother up. He didn't know about Count D, but it probably wouldn't hurt to go in.
Chris slowly eased the door open, and clapped his hands over his mouth to keep from giggling out loud.
Count D was lying all over Leon! Chris had never imagined such a thing in his life. The Count had draped himself across Leon in his sleep, and had one hand covering most of Leon's face, with one finger practically going up his nose. One of his legs was draped over Leon's waist. It didn't look comfortable, but Count D seemed perfectly happy, since not even Leon's snoring was disturbing him. Chris wished he had a camera. And that he knew how to take pictures like Dad. Leon was going to be so mad when he woke up!
Chris bit his lip. Sometimes Leon getting mad was funny. Sometimes it wasn't. He hoped Leon wouldn't get so mad that they didn't get to see Chinatown. He decided to wake Count D up first and get him off his brother as quietly as possible. He padded over to the empty side of the bed and climbed up, reaching out to gently tug at Count D's sleeve. "Count?" he whispered. "Count D!"
Count D twitched, jerked, and then woke up, looking rapidly around the room. Chris had never seen him wake up before. It was kind of weird, seeing his hair all messed up and his face all sleepy, just like normal people. Then the Count saw him. "Chris?" he whispered. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Chris whispered back. "It's just morning, that's all. I thought I should wake you up. Because…um…" he grinned and gestured at Leon to explain things.
"Because what?" D asked blankly, like he hadn't even realized he was lying on top of Leon, who hadn't stirred. "What time is it?" He looked over at the alarm clock, which read seven. "Ah…I see…well, it is early yet, Chris, perhaps we do not have to get up right away…" Chris bit his lip in sudden disappointment. The Count looked at him and seemed to change his mind. "Oh…well…" he yawned. "I could…get started making breakfast, I suppose."
"And you could get off Leon," Chris pointed out, grinning again. "Before he notices."
"What?" D asked again, as if he had no idea what Chris was talking about. Then, "Oh. Oh…of course…yes, no, you're right…just give me a moment." He yawned again. Then he carefully began to pull himself off Leon. Chris hopped off the bed. As he did so, the motion jogged the mattress, causing Leon to move at last. He rolled over, muttered something, and hooked his arm around D, pulling him close like he was looking for his teddy bear. "Mmmnwhereyagoin?" he asked, his eyes still closed.
Chris stared at them. D turned a bright pink and patted Leon's arm. "Wake up, Leon," he said. "It's time for breakfast. Chris is hungry."
"Izearly. Ididnsleepgood."
"Well," D said, looking and sounding helpless as he removed Leon's arm from his waist, "you can sleep a little longer, then. I'm going to make breakfast."
"Kay."
D held his finger to his lips and slipped out of bed, quietly ushering Chris out the door. Leon hadn't opened his eyes once. Chris was confused. "It was like he thought you were a stuffed animal," he said to D after D had shut the door behind them. "I thought he'd get mad."
"You mean, because I was -- " Count D seemed to hesitate.
"Lying on him," Chris finished helpfully.
"Oh, that. Ah. Yes. Well." The Count pressed his lips into a line and looked worried, though Chris had no idea why. How come he and Leon were acting so weird about everything? "Chris…your brother does not mind that I do that, most of the time. We do not fight so much anymore. We like each other. We are friends."
"You were friends before," Chris pointed out. At least, that was what Leon had said sometimes, although he'd always added that he still didn't trust the Count, or thought he was a criminal, or something like that. "Sort of."
"Sort of, yes," the Count agreed, his lips twitching as he led Chris into the kitchen. "But we are better friends now."
"So you don't fight anymore?" Chris couldn't believe it. It was too good to be true.
"Oh, we fight sometimes," D said casually as he opened the refrigerator. "Let's see, I have some egg substitute, I can scramble that for you…Leon says it's not too bad…"
"But you don't fight as much?" Chris asked hopefully.
D seemed to hear in his voice how important the question was. He looked over his shoulder. "Not as much, no," he said, his voice as soft and gentle as always. "But adults will always fight sometimes, Chris. It doesn't mean they do not…care for each other. Or for you."
"Okay," Chris said, a little reassured. "But you're friends now? I bet you can't wait until you get a bigger apartment, though."
The Count blinked as he poured the egg substitute into a frying pan. It looked gross, but Chris knew better than to think that the Count would ever cook something nasty. "Why would we need a bigger apartment?"
Chris tried not to roll his eyes. The Count had never been this dense before. Maybe it was because he was still waking up. "So you can have two rooms," he said. He didn't care how good 'friends' they were, there was no way Leon enjoyed sharing a bed.
But Count D bit his lip. "Chris, we do not mind sharing a room," he said. "In fact, we rather enjoy it. As I said -- we like each other. We…" he hesitated. "We share a room as your mother and father do," he finished.
"Okay," Chris said, instead of duh. Like he couldn't see they were sharing a room. "Can I help you cook?"
"Certainly," the Count said, with a smile that looked very relieved.
Chinatown was wild! It seemed like Chris had never seen so many people before, even though he knew he had. It was bigger than the Chinatown back in Los Angeles. He'd started off walking with Leon's hand in his own, but he'd been too short and the streets had been too crowded for him to see anything. So Leon had started carrying him on his shoulders instead, in spite of Count D's worries that it might not be safe, and now he could see everything. The only problem was he couldn't do everything, and he wanted to. Wanted to be at every stall all at once, trying all the cool-looking food and buying firecrackers and whistles and paper toys and everything else that caught his eye. He couldn't wait until he was a grownup and had actual money.
He was having lots of fun anyway, though. Leon kept one hand on him all the time so he didn't feel like he was going to fall, and Count D even kept his arm linked through Leon's so they wouldn't get separated in the crowd. Although that was weird, too. Chris couldn't have imagined them doing that, before.
Or sharing an apartment, much less a bedroom, much less a bed. Or saying they were friends and that they liked each other. Or holding each other like teddy bears. Chris knew this all had to mean something, but what, he had no idea. It seemed harmless. After all the Count and Leon were happy and not fighting as much. He knew Dad didn't approve of Count D being Leon's friend, but nobody else seemed to care very much one way or the other. And it was so great, to go down the street like this, while Count D shopped for things in the market for that afternoon's tea, buying sticky cakes for right now even though they'd just had breakfast. He passed Chris's cake up to him on his high perch, standing on tiptoe so he could pop it right into his mouth, laughing when crumbs fell into Leon's hair. Chris had never seen Count D laugh before. It was wonderful. Leon bought Chris a Chinese puzzle that reminded him of some of the games he'd used to play back at the petshop.
"There's your store, D," Leon said. "You wanna show Chris where you work?"
The Count looked a little worried. "Perhaps just the outside," he said. "Mr. Shen does not allow children inside his store, Chris, even when they are as well-behaved as you, because of all the breakables."
"Well, I damn sure can't afford to buy any Chinese vases," Leon said. "Especially not broken ones. We'll just look at the outside, okay, Chris?"
"Okay," said Chris, who thought an antiques shop sounded boring anyway, even if the Count did work there. It wouldn't be as much fun as a pet store, that was for sure.
"Hey, who's that coming out?" Leon asked, as they drew near to the shop door. "Is that -- "
"Oh, dear," D said, as the man coming out of the shop spotted them, and immediately began working his way over.
"Too late," Leon muttered. "He's spotted us -- he still bothering you?"
"He came by twice this week," D replied in a low voice, smiling politely at the man as he hurried up. "Ah -- good morning, Zhou."
"Good morning, Count D!" The man called Zhou was short, especially compared to his brother, and looking at the Count with a really dopey smile on his face. Chris could feel Leon's shoulders going really tense beneath him.
"Hey, Zhou," his brother said, and Chris could hear the temper underlying the voice. He hoped Zhou knew how to duck, and that Leon would let him get off his shoulders before a fight began. "How's school?"
"Oh?" Zhou looked at Leon and Chris as if he'd just noticed they were there. "Ah -- Detective Orcot. Good morning. This must be your son." He glanced at D, raising his eyebrows.
"No," Leon said coldly. "He's my brother."
"Chris is visiting us for the weekend," the Count said. His voice was as nice as ever, but Chris noticed he'd started holding on to Leon's arm again, and was even kind of standing behind Leon, as if part of him wanted to hide.
"He's like a son to us," Leon added, squeezing Chris's knees, and Chris suddenly thought his heart would burst with joy. That was the coolest thing Leon had ever said, ever.
"Oh? Oh." For some reason, Zhou looked upset. He gave D a weird look. Chris had no idea what it meant. D just kept smiling politely back at him, and nodded in agreement with what Leon had said, which made Chris feel even better. Zhou took off his glasses and began polishing them. "I see," he said, his voice a little thick. "That's -- how nice for you, Count."
"I am very lucky," D said quietly. He smiled up at Chris. "And very happy." Chris beamed back.
"I see," Zhou repeated. When he raised his face again, his cheeks were bright red. "Well -- I don't want to keep you -- so nice to run into you -- "
"And you, Zhou," D said. "I'm sure I'll see you around the neighborhood."
"Yeah, I'm sure too," Leon said, his voice dry. Chris saw D elbow him, though he didn't think Zhou had noticed.
"I'll be on my way, then," Zhou said, gave another weird look to D, and shuffled down the sidewalk past them. Leon began walking in the opposite direction very fast, with D still gripping his arm, and Chris had to hold on tight.
"Don't drop Chris!" D admonished, and Leon slowed down. Chris breathed a sigh of relief. "Who was that?" he asked.
"A pest," Leon said, at the same moment D said, "A friend."
Then D sighed. Chris couldn't see Leon's face, but he somehow knew his brother was rolling his eyes. Chris was inclined to agree. The Count hadn't acted toward that guy like he was a friend. "Think the little twerp finally got the message?" Leon asked.
"I do hope so," D said, and sighed again. "The situation looks hopeful, at any rate."
"What message?" Chris demanded. "Why don't you like him?"
Leon and the Count looked at each other, and then did that thing Chris hated when adults tried it: he backtracked really fast. "He's okay," Leon said. "I shouldn't have said that. I guess. Don't repeat it to anyone, especially around here, okay?"
"Okay," Chris said impatiently. "But what's -- ?"
"Zhou would -- would rather I was his friend, and not your brother's," Count D said.
Leon's shoulders went stiff again. Chris frowned. "Why can't you be both their friends?"
The Count laid a gentle hand on Leon's shoulder, though he was looking up at Chris. "I would be happy to be Zhou's friend," he said, "but nobody else can be my friend in the same way your brother can."
Chris didn't get it at all. But Leon's shoulders went slack again, and he took D's hand off his shoulder, held it in his own. "Damn straight," he said.
"Language, Mr. Detective," D scolded softly, but he was smiling.
Weirder and weirder. But it was better than fighting. If this was the way things were going to be, Chris thought, maybe weird wasn't so bad after all.
Comments and criticism welcome.