by SA Payne
into a wide mug just for him. He sat and read the files Amanda and Will had sent him but most of
it seemed pretty much like common sense. The now comforting sound of kibble rattling shot
across the silent apartment and Ichi turned to see the hand carefully picking out two or three
rounds.
"No time like the present." He nodded and moved to kneel at the crate. "Rye, come out here." It would have been more simple to command him but that was missing the point.
There was a pause but Rye crawled out to kneel in front of the crate, eyes downcast.
"Give them to me." Ichi held out his hand.
Rye didn't move.
"Come on, give me the kibble." He lifted the slender hand and stroked at the fingers until he got the hand to turn over and drop a couple of kibble chunks into his hand. Ichi moved to drop the
kibble back in the bowl and caught a quick movement from the corner of his eye. When he
glanced back to Rye, nothing seemed different, except, a slight difference to how the red head
was holding his mouth. "You sneak." Ichi laughed and held out his hand. "All of it now, spit it out."
Rye sat, eyes downcast and looking stubborn but Ichi didn't relent. After a short stalemate, Rye
gave up and spit the slightly soggy chunk of kibble out into Ichi's hand. The kibble was quickly
shaken off into the bowl.
"No more of this." Ichi stood, taking the bowl with him as he went.
Rye stood and followed the bowl, watching with worried eyes as Ichi dropped it, kibble and bowl,
into the storage tub. His stomach growled, angry and hungry.
"Don't worry, I'm not starving you. It's just, pets have unstable digestions, rich foods make them sick. You aren't a pet, there's no reason you should eat this." Which meant he'd be cooking for two and had to think of something that could be eaten with hands. He doubted Rye was up for
handling a spoon or chopsticks.
"Pizza." He settled and went to grab a pair of the Neapolitan rounds from storage. Ichi tore the package off and dropped them in the cooker before moving to set two places at the table. "Trust me, this is way better than kibble."
There was only one wide mouthed mug in his store of dishes. He occasionally used it for soup
but right now it had the untouched mint tea in it. Ichi gathered it up and held the lip of the mug
close to Rye's mouth. "Try it, see if you like it."
The grey eyes were uncertain, uneasy, but he parted his mouth enough to let Ichi tip some of the
cool tea forward. The mint sprang across his tongue and Rye instantly pulled back.
"Not a fan of mint huh? Well." Ichi dumped the mug and rinsed it out. He filled it with cool water instead. "Water it is, until we figure out what you do like." The cooker chimed and he moved to pull the plates out. The rounds of baked dough steamed, the tomato slices on it were properly
crisped. Scattered over the pizzas were squares of bubbling cheese and wilted basil leaves. The
smell was amazing and as Ichi slid the plates on the table, he caught Rye watching every move
the food made. Ichi snapped the rounds in half along the pre-pressed crease and patted one of
the chairs.
"Come here and eat, Rye. Before it gets cold."
Rye didn't move.
"Come on, I know you're hungry."
He held his ground but his eyes darted from Ichi to the food and off to the crate.
Ichi sat down and picked up half of his pizza. It crunched as he bit into it. The aroma of the herbs
filled the apartment and over it all Ichi could feel hungry eyes on him. He ignored it and kept eating.
"It's really good, sit, have some."
Rye held his ground.
Ichi finally set his half eaten slice down and turned to study the skittish pet, no the skittish man he corrected himself. "I wish you could talk, I wish I could understand why you're so worried
about eating in front of people. How about this, you can eat the first half wherever you want but
the second has to be eaten at the table."
With no indication if Rye understood or now, Ichi reached across the table and slid half the round
pizza off the plate and offered it toward Rye. "Deal?"
Rye's stomach growled loudly. Grey eyes danced between the food and Ichi and settled on the
floor for a moment but before they could drop Ichi saw fear there.
"It's okay, go on. It's really good."
Very slowly, Rye crept closer and then with little warning he snatched the half away from Ichi's
hand and darted hurried to disappear inside his crate. Ichi watched and his food grew cold while
he thought. There would be no removing the crate quickly, it was pretty clear that it was the only
place where Rye felt safe.
There came a small crunching sound and it was followed by a happy food murmur. Ichi grinned
at that and another louder crunch was followed by more delighted food moans. He figured if he'd
had nothing but the same food to eat for at least a year, even if it had been good food which
kibble wasn't, he'd be making the same delighted sounds as well.
Before Ichi could get more than a bite or two finished, Rye was back, sitting just out of arms
reach. He didn't even glance over. "If you want it, you'll have to sit at the table and eat it." He spoke softly, making a point to not make eye contact.
Rye didn't move.
Ichi finished his own pizza and still Rye sat there, his face a torn up mix of longing and fear.
"Guess you don't want it, huh?" Ichi stood and started to clear the table but he knew better. As he took a few steps toward the kitchen with the waiting half round of pizza, Rye whined a little.
"What? I can't understand what you want if you don't let me know." He was being cruel, all he wanted to do was give the man the pizza and let him eat it wherever he wanted. "If you don't
want it, let me know, tell me no." He said slowly, shaking his head no. "If you want it, tell me yes." He nodded his head yes and stood, waiting.
Whatever the internal battle was inside of Rye it must have been tremendous. Ichi could see him
almost quaking with emotion but after a moment's struggle, Rye's head nodded. It was tiny and
quick but real and the breath Ichi hadn't know he was holding rushed out.
"Well, now, see, that's not so hard. Come here and eat it." He set the plate down and patted the chair again. This time he didn't sit and watch, instead he moved to make tea, a blend that was
lightly toasted and mild, and very carefully watched from the corner of his eyes.
Rye moved slowly but he moved. He stood on shuffling feet and hovered over the chair, one of
his hands brushed across the top of the back with the smallest of touches. With only a final
glance to his crate, he gingerly sat down, on the very edge. He perched there, uncomfortable
and uneasy but quickly scooped up the pizza and devoured it.
Ichi returned to the table and set his tea down as carefully as he could. "It would taste better if you actually chewed it." He teased and gathered up a napkin. "Hold still."
Rye obeyed but when the cloth swiped at the tomato in the corner of his mouth he pulled back
just slightly.
"Water's in the cup, I know you can mange it." He nodded and sat down.
Grey eyes went to where the water bowl had sat for weeks and to the tiny cup sitting untouched
on the table. Ichi had never seen the man drink either, in the mornings the bowl would be empty
and occasionally if he went into the bedroom or bathroom he'd return to find it partially drained
but like the food, Rye never touched it where someone could see.
A hand, shaking and frightened, extended out and curled around the cup. When no harsh words
arrived the other joined the
first and the pair steadied the sloshing water. It was quickly raised to Rye's mouth and drained in long, thirsty gulps. Ichi was surprised at the skill Rye showed.
Drinking from a cup was a fairly complicated effort and Rye, beyond his fears, had no difficulties.
"Here now, come see this." Ichi stood and cleared the empty plates away, plucking the empty
mug from Rye's hands. "This mug, from now on, is yours. Okay? This is Rye's. Watch." When he moved further toward the kitchen, Rye happily followed, glad to be rid of the chair. He pressed
the mug to the water dispenser and it slowly filled. "See?" The mug was pushed at Rye. "You do it."
Rye stood uncertain but at an encouraging nod he extended the mug and let it fill up. With his
eyes still locked onto Ichi, he quickly downed the second mug full.
"There now, your mug and you know how to fill it. I'm proud of you Rye!" He smiled and moved to ignore Rye and let him find his own level of comfort again, figuring they'd pushed the man
enough for right now. Ichi set himself to tidying up the kitchen and getting the dirty dishes
dropped into the washer.
He moved to step away from the counter and collect his cooling tea but a hand snaked around
his waist. The touch startled Ichi, made him jump slightly but a second hand petted up through
his hair, finger tips dragging across the nape of his neck in a teasing touch. The contact was like fire and Ichi shivered feeling like a chill was melting in the face of such a blaze.
Part Eight:
He moved to step away from the counter and collect his cooling tea but a hand snaked around
his waist. The touch startled Ichi, made him jump slightly but a second hand petted up through
his hair, finger tips dragging across the nape of his neck in a teasing touch. The contact was like fire and Ichi shivered feeling like a chill was melting in the face of such a blaze.
"Rye, don't." He sighed but there was little conviction to his words.
The hand in his hair stroked more and tilted Ichi's head to the left, exposing the length of his
neck. Soft, careful lips pressed behind his ear and Ichi's lungs forgot how to work. "Oh, don't, Rye, don't..." he sighed out but the lips didn't still. They moved forward, more boldly, carrying with them the spicy scent of basil, to gently feather across the tense cords of Ichi's neck.
At his waist, the hand that was holding him in place, tugged his shirt free from it's tidy tuck in his pants. Before Ichi's lust muddled mind could make sense of any of it, the slender hand was
under his shirt, resting on the narrow flat of his stomach, skin sliding on skin. Fingers curved
gently around his waist and just held on.
It melted Ichi, he moaned and his head lolled back, his spine arched and a shoulder was there
for his head to rest upon. That subtle difference in heights was perfection and his eyes squinted
shut. There were reasons for not doing this, he knew there were but with the hand curled around
his waist, touching him skin to skin, and that tormenting mouth kissing and teasing the side of his neck, none of those reasons came readily to mind.
"Rye..." Ichi struggled to breath. "No..... this isn't right..." He needed stronger ammunition than that if he was going to remember what was right. "Your not well, not yet... oh God." He arched further back, his stomach hitching against the steady hand, begging to be touched, when Rye
found a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. "You... you can't know.... Not yet.... This can't be what you want." He managed to whisper out.
If there was any doubt that inside Rye's head he was able to understand, it fled. He may not
have been able to counter Ichi's protests with words but he could with actions. The strong hand
around the slender waist tugged and pulled Ichi's body fully along Rye's own. Back pressed to
chest, legs entwined, and hard, hungry length crushed tightly to the roundness of Ichi's ass.
There were many things Ichi had missed during the long years of celibacy. The scent of another
person was one of them. It wasn't something he could define but the very scent and warmth of a
lover's skin comforted him. Rye smelled like pine trees and open air. There was a hint of
something under the green, living scent, something like lilacs and spring sunshine. It was too
deliberate, to sensual, and Ichi wondered if that soft scent to his skin was a modification that
hadn't failed. Under it all, was something duskier, something heavier, the teasing scent of strong
male. Ichi knew, if he let himself, he'd grow drunk on the scent of Rye's skin.
There were things he had missed without knowing what he was missing. As Rye gently pressed
his body along Ichi's, one of the empty hollows of his soul suddenly made sense. Rye was hard,
achingly hard, eagerly hard and Ichi had done that. It was heady and thrilling to know he was the
cause of the handsome man's state. Simple, plain, Ichi had done this to another person.
Someone wanted him so badly that they were holding him, pressing themselves against his ass
in silent pleas and it made Ichi ache as deeply. Knowing that someone had needed him, was
passionate for him, was something he'd missed without being able to name.
None of the reasons of logic mattered with Rye kissing his neck and pressing into his ass. All Ichi wanted was to be allowed to melt forward over the counter, cling to it's smooth surface and let
Rye take him. Nothing else mattered and inside Ichi's head he could feel it, the touch of bare
skin to bare skin, the stinging burn of first being entered, the trembling bliss of letting go. The desire was consuming.
But he needed to see those eyes, those grey eyes which had haunted his fantasies from the
moment Rye had stumbled into his life. Ichi squirmed and for a moment the hand at his waist
clung tighter before easing. It gave him just enough room to turn around but not enough to slip
away and he found himself pressed now between the counter and Rye's chest, face to face.
It was distressing how easily Rye breathed. Ichi was panting, gasping for breath, his heart
pounding in excited emotion and physical need but Rye's breath had barely increased. There
was no missing the lust in the other man, his face was twisted with begging need and a flush
colored his pale skin. Those grey eyes were dark, almost blue, with desire and the hungry look in
them made Ichi shiver.
The hand at Ichi's waist had slid as he'd turned, still under his shirt, to now rest along the small of his back. It slid lower now, down to grip firmly the curve of his ass. The clutching touch made Ichi shiver, made him want to strip naked and fall to his knees and devour Rye as Rye had for him.
When the grip pulled, tugged, at his body and Rye's hips slid forward, there was no room left for
Ichi to think.
The pleasure of being so wickedly teased, of desire finding and meeting desire, shut his mind
down. Rye moaned, low, like a growl in the back of his throat and he held Ichi's head steady
when the shorter man nearly melted backwards. Ichi was gasping, his mouth parted and his eyes
shut. He never saw Rye lean forward until he felt the strong lips cover his own and swallow his
moans whole.
Ichi had nothing in him with which to fight the kiss. He knew he was about a step away from
being fucked silly right there on his kitchen counter top and not even his logic was willing to
speak up to offer a reason not to. Rye kissed him, not with the shy, joyfully grateful kiss after his hair cut, but a consuming kiss. There was nothing shy or uncertain here, as his tongue explored
and conquered as Rye's hips continued to slowly rub into Ichi's own.
Across the counter, Ichi's fing
ers scratched for a grip, something to ground himself on in a world
of lust and want. They found nothing until they stumbled on Rye's arms. That was solid and real,
if not grounding, and he let his hands travel up the arms to round over shoulders. The slender
body he rarely saw undressed any longer was still hard to the touch and the memory of the long
lean muscle that lay under the soft fabric sprang to mind. He felt Rye shiver under his hands and
thought nothing of it, the kiss continued, the tormenting mash of hip into hip went on. Ichi found
his target, his hands wandered down shoulders across the strong back and the kiss stuttered.
Down his hands roamed until they rounded over the kilt covered ass, gripping lightly and Rye
froze.
The sudden chill, the cold emptiness around Ichi sunk in a moment before his mind understood
that Rye no longer had him pinned to the counter. His hazed eyes opened and fell on Rye,
standing a good three paces away. The grey eyes were storm clouds again and wide and the
breath that didn't get stirred for desire moved in uneasy fear.
That dumped ice water over Ichi and knocked a lot of the wind from his sails. He watched the
blind, undirected fear that was bordering on panic fade to worry and than be quickly chased by a
more direct, embarrassed personal fear all dance across Rye's face before he dropped it. Ichi
had to rewind the last few seconds to try to gather just what had spooked the taller man and it
didn't take much to connect it with being touched.
"I'm sorry." He moved forward to brush hair back from Rye's eyes but the red head ducked back before he could. Ichi stood, silent and trying to jump start his thinking mind, he needed to
process a complex situation and he could do that. Only, he was really bad at processing complex
emotional situations.
Normally by the time Ichi figured out what to say or do, the person he needed to take action with
had grown frustrated and left. Rye just stood there, uncertain and uncomfortable, waiting for
something, waiting for punishment.
"Rye," Ichi started carefully. "It'd be so easy for me to give in here, to just let you please me.
God, people like you, as beautiful as you, don't ever look twice at geeks like me." He tried to joke
