It had been a week since Youji had been to The Rising Sun, the bar that Yuushi owned and where he'd met Ran. He'd spent the seven days casing similar bars in the area and he'd had another job come in. And thanks to Ran's insistence that they walk to his place from the bar, which meant Youji had had to walk back, he'd also spent the week battling a head cold just severe enough to be annoying without really slowing him down. He needed to move somewhere warm and dry - he was tired of being, cold, wet, and sniffley.
But the bar was warm and Youji was letting himself take the night off. He hadn't had any way to reach Ran for the past week, and even if he had, he had been working. He was hoping the redhead would be around, but wasn't counting on it. The man was busy, and overworked, from what he remembered about their conversation a week ago. But, if Ran didn't show, the bar was at least comfortable enough for an hour or twos distraction.
"Hey," Yuushi greeted Youji as he settled on a barstool. "Youji, right?"
"Yeah," Youji replied, accepting the beer slid in his direction. "How did -?"
"Ran told me." the bartender winked.
"Ah." Youji smiled. "Has he been around?"
"Every night this week." Yuushi grinned back. "Though later than normal. I gather that new case of his is giving him problems."
Youji shrugged and swallowed the swig of beer. "He wouldn't tell me about it."
"Typical," Yuushi laughed. "But he said he'd be in, eventually."
"Guess I'll just have to wait and see." Youji winked.
Yuushi moved away with a laugh to tend to some other customers farther down the bar.
Youji sipped at his beer, waiting to see if Ran would show up. He felt bad for making his escape from Ran's house shortly after the owner had fallen asleep. But he couldn't have stayed. As much as he had wanted to, he couldn't have stayed. So he'd schlepped back to his car and driven back to his place, a flat above the shop he owned, falling into his bed and sleeping late, as usual. He was never expected in the flower shop before noon.
The floristry cover was a stroke of brilliance on his part. The nuns that had raised him before the government had recruited him, had trained all the children in the orphanage in a skill. Youji had been forced into learning ikkebana as a way to focus some of his hyperactivity. When he'd arrived in San Francisco, needing a viable cover, he'd set up shop in one of the Japanese districts and begun a fairly profitable business. He had a few employees, all elderly women working part time, but they were more than capable of handling the shop when 'Youji-san' was off on "business".
And he was gone quite a bit, and the ladies never asked questions. He had papers with a lawyer that signed the business over to their name if he had to escape.
Which was always a possibility that he was prepared for. He'd been in the game too long to pretend that he'd remain a nameless, faceless being on the streets. Youji'd been trained well. Probably too well, considering that Japanese government was probably still looking for him and hadn't managed to find him after four years.
Four years, three cities. San Francisco was his longest stay in the States so far. Despite the damp, cold, sniffle inducing weather, it was his favorite city. Something about it felt right. And after meeting Ran, it seemed he'd found something else in the city to make it worth staying.
Sure, they'd had one night together, but it had felt right. Their first time, possibly their only time, had been without problems, like they'd already known each other, where to touch, how it would feel, what responses meant encouragement. Just thinking about it made Youji's cock twitch and he shifted slightly on the stool, taking a long swig of his mostly empty beer.
Ran was dangerous to Youji, yet he was drawn to him, inexplicably. He knew the redhead was smart and the wrong words out of his mouth could get him in trouble, but he didn't care. Ran had let his guard down that night a week ago, had let Youji in enough to let go, relax, find comfort. And that trust was something Youji couldn't ignore, that had made him think of Ran every night for the past week.
"Hey." A soft familiar voice at Youji's elbow jolted him out of his reflections. Ran looked tired and ready to drop, his eyes dark with fatigue, hair escaping the tie at the base of his neck.
"Ran, hi," Youji said, feeling a smile tugging at his lips. Even exhausted the man was gorgeous. "You look -"
Ran laughed, a light, tired sound. "I know." He pulled the tie from his hair and let the shoulder length mass of red spill over his hands as he combed through with his fingers, pulling it all back. He accepted a steaming mug from Yuushi and took a long sip from it, sighing gratefully.
Youji watched Ran slump onto the barstool, dropping a pack to the floor and curling his hands around the mug that contained what Youji determined was coffee. Awkwardness settled between them again. One fucking terrific night between them, a week since that night, and Youji felt like he was back where he had started from. But no. It wasn't quite. Ran had been back every night since last Thursday, and Youji couldn't help but hope that the redhead had been looking for him.
But at the moment, Youji decided, Ran looked like he needed to be anywhere but the bar.
"Ran," he said, gently prising the pale fingers from the coffee cup. "Let me take you home. You look like you're about ready to pass out."
"Hn?" Ran looked up, then down at his hand, resting in Youji's. "Oh. Yeah, okay."
Youji smiled at him, receiving a small grin in return. He slid off the stool, giving a brief tug on Ran's hand for him to follow. He pulled on his coat, tossing a few bills onto the counter. Though Youji had the feeling he'd be able to drink free for life in Yuushi's bar, the bartender wasn't looking his way and Ran seemed sufficiently out of it to not to mention it.
They stepped out into the night air, no fog, which only meant rain. Great, Youji thought, zipping up his coat.
Ran paused next to a motorcycle, appearing to be in deep thought. "I only have one helmet," he said at last, looking up at Youji.
Youji blinked. "You ride a motorcycle?" As surprised as he was, it really did seem to fit what he knew of the man's personality.
Ran smiled. "Yeah. When I don't have a company car." He shrugged. "Guess you're driving."
"You're going to have to take me for a ride sometime," Youji said, leading the way to his car. He drove a nondescript Honda Civic, which wasn't quite his style, but left him mostly unnoticed and still able to make a swift getaway when he had to.
Ran didn't reply, but smiled, walking around the back of Youji's car to the passenger side, which made Youji's heart lift a little. Either Ran trusted him to not be too drunk to drive, or was too tired to fight it, or, and Youji thought most possibly, didn't trust himself to not kill them by falling asleep behind the wheel.
The short ride back to Ran's place was quiet, except for the soft jazz piped through the Civic's speakers. One thing Youji did love about San Francisco was the availability of good, mostly unknown jazz musicians cluttering the halls of clubs he frequented when he wasn't working.
Youji's memory easily steered him to Ran's house, though he'd had to go around the block to turn around to park facing the right direction in front of the beach front home. He shut off the engine. "Ran," he nudged the redhead, who sat dozing in the passenger seat. "We're here."
"Mm?" Ran's eyes fluttered open. "Oh. Thanks."
Youji grinned at the blush that crept over the shorter man's cheeks. Ran fumbled with the seatbelt for a moment, finally getting his fingers to release the catch. Getting the door open was a little easier.
"D'you want to come in?" Ran asked hesitantly, halfway out of the car.
Did he? Youji considered a moment. Ran was plainly exhausted, looking close to falling asleep on his feet, but something inside Youji was screaming at him to look after the man, make sure he was all right, maybe try to get him to eat something before putting him to bed. And from the feel of things, Ran wanted something. Maybe just company. Maybe something more.
"Sure," Youji answered.
**
Ran stifled a yawn as he cracked the door open. Fuck, he was exhausted. He hadn't slept properly in a week, putting in long hours at the office, and then at home, and it showed. As much as he was reconsidering his chosen path in life, he still had a job to do, especially with some psychopath running around taking out Japanese business men, and all of them working for the same company. Ran had begun to truly realize that he'd made the right choice leaving the FBI. There was no way he'd have been able to get inside the head of the maniac he was tracking now, not reliably. He hated the perp already.
And because he'd been working so much, he hadn't really been able to wear himself out enough to sleep, not since that night a week before, with Youji. Sometimes he just couldn't stop thinking enough to get any real rest. When that happened, he woke up in a cold sweat from nightmares, if he was even able to fall asleep at all. Working out helped; if his body was exhausted most of the time he could make himself rest for a least a few hours. But in the last week, not much had helped.
He dropped his pack and kicked off his shoes in the hallway, tiredly dropping his coat over the table. He had papers from the Japanese case scattered all over his workspace in the front room. The latest murder had happened over the weekend and Ran had found himself drowning in paperwork from that, plus the responses that had come in to his inquiries of other departments throughout the country. It seemed as if they had a serial killer on the loose, but other than the Japanese cases recently, there was no other connection between the victims that he'd been able to find so far, other than the method in which they were killed.
Ronin cried pathetically from the kitchen.
"Ronin," he sighed. It was feeding the cat that kept him coming home every night. It kept him from spending his time at the office or out canvassing.
"Sit," Youji said, taking him by the shoulders and turning him toward the couch. "I'll get it."
"But -"
"Ran," Youji said softly, but sternly. "Sit down before you fall over." He grinned. "Besides. I think he likes me."
Ran smiled. He couldn't help it. "Thanks," he said, falling onto the couch. It was nice, having someone else in his home, fussing, taking care of his cat. His eyes slid closed and he absorbed the sounds of Youji moving around his kitchen, finding the cat food. Josh had never bothered to even try to like Ronin. And truth be told, the cat hadn't liked Josh much either. Maybe that should have been a sign that it wasn't going to last. Josh had never tried to understand why he was the way he was, why work was so important, that it kept him from thinking, from feeling too much. It filled the emptiness within him, the hole that the death of his family had left behind.
"When was the last time you ate?" Youji's voice drifted out of the kitchen, followed by the fridge opening and closing and the soft sound of Ronin eating.
"Uhm." Ran thought. He knew he had lunch the day before, if a bagel and coffee counted. It wasn't that he didn't eat on purpose, he just got so busy that he didn't remember to eat on a regular basis. And what food went into his body tended to get burnt off by the hours of katas that helped numb his mind to sleep.
"If you can't answer, it's been too long," Youji said.
Ran heard the clatter of a pan on the gas stove, the soft cracking of eggs against his counter. Youji was cooking? Where had this man been five years ago when he'd arrived in San Francisco, disillusioned with the FBI, alone except for distant family he barely knew (other than Yuushi, who was probably his best friend, save Ronin) and a newly adopted kitten to keep him company? He'd had a series of relationships since moving west, ending with Josh, the longest of them at six months.
Why did it feel so right? Why was Ran prepared to drop the carefully controlled mask he wore and tell this man his life story? What was it about Kudou Youji that made Ran want to curl up in his arms and be held and feel safe. No one else had ever made him feel that way? And the sex…
The sex had been great. Like no effort was involved at all. No first time fumblings, no slips, no dull moments, just wonderful, mind blowing sex.
"Still awake in here?" Youji emerged from the kitchen with two plates, bearing scrambled eggs and toast.
"Barely." Ran smiled, accepting a plate and fork. "I had food?" he kidded. He kept the basics, but rarely used them, throwing out more food than he actually cooked for himself.
"Yup." Youji grinned. "It's simple, but it'll do you good. Eat." he waved a fork in Ran's direction before using it to shovel eggs into his mouth.
Ran smiled tiredly and did as he was told. The eggs were good, soft and lightly peppered. The toast was lightly buttered and still soft in the middle, the way he liked it. He got about halfway through the plate before he yawned again, full and sleepy.
He wasn't even aware he'd started to drift off until the plate was lifted from his hands with a soft chuckle. Distantly, he heard water running, then another soft laugh and purr drift out of the kitchen.
Ran missed this, the quiet sounds of another person in his space, the firm, but not overwhelming directions to take care of himself. Why was Youji still there? Why hadn't he dropped him and run, just like all the others had? Surely the other man knew that Ran wasn't worth it. As much as he liked it, being taken care of, being cared for, Ran knew he didn't deserve it. He sucked at relationships, no matter how much he desired and craved and needed the touch of another person, he knew he wasn't worth the effort the other person expended on his behalf. And he always ended up fucking it all up in the end anyway. He couldn't open himself up, couldn't risk being hurt again. And that always drove his partner away.
"Hey."
Ran opened his eyes to see Youji crouched in front of him, green eyes concerned but sparkling.
"Your cat is fed, your dishes are in the sink, and you're about to fall asleep." Youji smiled softly. "I'm going to go home."
Ran felt sluggish as he covered one of Youji's hands with his own. "Stay?" he asked softly.
Youji leaned forward and kissed Ran, just a brush of lips. "You're exhausted," he whispered.
"Please," Ran said, inwardly wincing at how needy he sounded, how close to pleading he was. "I -I won't sleep," he said softly, confessionally. He was afraid that Youji would laugh, would think he was a child, afraid of the dark. But he didn't want to be alone; he wanted to spend the night in the man's arms, to be lulled to sleep by the missed rhythm of another person's heartbeat and breath in his ear. Youji could help keep the dreams at bay.
"Ran," Youji sighed.
Ran leaned forward and pressed his lips to Youji's, twining their fingers together. Youji's lips admitted Ran's tongue when he pressed, and the kiss was long and deep. Ran pulled away, breathing hard, leaning his forehead against Youji's. "Please stay," he whispered.
"Yes," Youji replied, shifting up to kiss him again. "I'll stay."
