brit_columbia (brit_columbia) wrote,

Doughnuts at the 27th Precinct, Part One: The Hunter

Doughnuts at the 27th Precinct

By Brit Columbia

Part One:  The Hunter

Pairing:  Dee and Ryo
Fandom: Fake
Spoilers:  To Volume 7 & and beyond
Rating: Teen
Timing:  Set in March, toward the end of Dee and Ryo's first year together.
Summary:  Dee pisses Ryo off. Yeah, I know, business as usual. But it's more fun than it sounds.
Disclaimer:  I wasn't paid anything for writing this story. These characters belong to Sanami Matoh, not me. I love them, so I write stories about them.
Author's notes:  I thought I'd talk about their clothes this time, since I practically never do. Part Two is done, so you'll see it soon. Thanks for reading!
Thank you to  mtemplarthe_ladyfeather, and moontatoo

Doughnuts at the 27th Precinct
(Part one of two)

Detective Dee Laytner trudged towards the office he shared with his partner, Detective Ryo MacLean, trying not to think about all the grunt work that awaited him there. Today, that little office was both the best and the worst place in the building to be. There was the impending hell of his massive to-do list, but the heaven of being able to gaze at his extremely attractive partner was likely to be a very welcome distraction from it. The 'newly renovated' 27th Precinct that they had moved into almost a year ago was a crappy old dive with cracking plaster lath in parts, exposed pipes here and there and an el cheapo paint job in institutional colors, but no one could say that he and Ryo weren't doing their part to dress the place up.

Ryo had walked in that morning, the picture of lean sartorial grace, wearing a light brown, fine wool suit, the jacket of which he had immediately hung up on the wall behind him. The slacks fit him perfectly, and a really nice belt that Dee hadn't seen before encircled his narrow waist. A conservative black linen-blend shirt buttoned up to the neck couldn't hide the fact that Ryo had a very sexy chest. A golden silk necktie with a beige pattern on it hung neatly down his front, held in place by what Dee recognized as Ryo's favorite tie clip.

"Hey, beautiful." Dee had greeted Ryo with an appreciative once-over. Ryo really could dress. It was one of the things they had in common; an interest in clothes and fashion. Dee adopted some, although not all new styles as they came out, whereas Ryo went for a more timeless look. Dee, when he went to the trouble of getting dressed up, went all out. Tall and well-built, but not bulky, he was a man who really looked good in clothes - and even better out of them, as he had often pointed out to Ryo in the early years when he had still been trying to get his shy partner to sleep with him.

When he had been a rookie detective, he used to wear a suit every day until he got sick of his clothes getting trashed by struggles with guys who resisted arrest, or the necessity of having to spend time at filthy crime scenes. Since then, he had been trying to get away with wearing a suit only two days out of five, preferring to come in to work in jeans most days. The Commissioner periodically called him onto the carpet for it, after which Dee would ostentatiously wear suits more often for two or three weeks before slipping back into his old habits.

Today, as it happened, he was wearing one of his better suits, and looking just as good as Ryo, although in his own way. Ryo didn't call him 'beautiful', however. That wasn't his style. Although he had never been averse to a little flattery, he wasn't always comfortable when Dee addressed him with complimentary pet names in public.

"Dee, don't call me things like that at work," Ryo had admonished him that morning. "If anyone finds out about our personal relationship, we might get reassigned to different partners. I don't want that, and I hope you don't either."

"You still don't mind working with me?" Dee couldn't help but seek confirmation of that. He was always happy to get any kind of attention from Ryo.

"I love working with you," Ryo had said firmly, "except when you slack off on your share of the paperwork and then lie about it! Look what I found!" He dropped an old cardboard file box on Dee’s desk and glared sternly at him.

Dee immediately knew what his partner was pissed off about. He had been supposed to update all of those files and then put each one back in its appropriate place over two weeks ago. Instead he had stashed them in that box, buried it under some other junk, and told Ryo he was finished so that they could go out for drinks with the guys.

"Guess what you're going to be doing today, ALL day, right through lunch and everything?" Ryo had demanded. Dee had been forced to acquiesce if he wanted peace. And that was how this truly shitty day had started out.

Since then, he hadn't been out of the building once, unless one counted going up on the roof to smoke. He was sick of paperwork, sick of leaving phone messages for people who never picked up, sick of being yelled at by the Chief, and sick of making small talk with an assortment of co-workers in a pathetic effort to avoid his filing. He wanted something exciting to happen. He wanted something to look forward to, something that would help him get through the rest of what was turning out to be an interminably long, dull shift.

His partner, heartless little bastard that he was, had been cracking the whip all day too. Not that he was truly little, Dee reflected. At five foot ten, Ryo was only three inches shorter than himself. In his heart, Dee admitted that he only called Ryo 'little' sometimes just to see his eyes flash. Ryo was extremely sexy when he was pissed off, and it didn't matter what height he was.

Bikky, Ryo's adopted son, was already looking like he might turn out be much taller than both of them when that little punk finally stopped growing.

Dee took it as a measure of his extreme boredom and misery that he was even willing to think about Bikky rather than go and face his box of files, but he had stayed away long enough helping the Narcotics unit eat their cinnamon cake doughnuts, and now it was time to put in a little more time on actual work. But before he buckled down to it, he was hoping to get a rise out of his partner one way or another.

The door to his and Ryo's shared office was slightly ajar when he got there, and as he pushed open the door, his eyes went directly to Ryo out of long-established habit. Yup. Still gorgeous, the heavy-rimmed reading glasses his partner was wearing only adding to his allure. Ryo was lounging comfortably in his chair, still giving every appearance of being just as fresh and pulled together as he had when he arrived several hours earlier. He looked like something out of GQ. Or better yet, like he had just stepped off a runway in Milan. Dee spent a pleasurable few seconds imagining himself divesting Ryo of every single item of clothing he was wearing, leaving him in only those glasses, his socks and boxers. Heh. Underwear model.

Just then Ryo caught sight of him and pushed his glasses down his nose a fraction, the better to see beyond the magazine he had been idly perusing. His eyes narrowed slightly as if he had an inkling of what Dee might be thinking. "Hello, Dee," he said mildly. "You're looking at my shirt like I've got a stain on it or something." At the same time his eyes were quite unmistakably saying, Whatever you're thinking about, you'd better stop it right now.

Dee just grinned back. Somehow, Ryo always knew when Dee was mentally undressing him. He figured he had to be unconsciously leering while he did it. Heaven forbid drooling. He did it so often that he could totally understand how his partner, for self-preservation purposes, had become aware of it.

What he couldn't understand was how Ryo could keep his shirt buttoned around his neck all damn day like that. Dee always started off the day with his tie in place, but he invariably ended up undoing the first couple of buttons and tugging the knot of his tie loose, usually during the first coffee break. Then it stayed like that for the rest of the day, unless they had a meeting. Right at that moment, all Dee wanted to do was to strip off Ryo's tie and blindfold him with it before opening his shirt buttons all the way down to his navel. And that was just for starters. He knew there was no way in hell that was going to happen, but maybe he could tease Ryo by talking about it.

Unfortunately, Ryo wasn't alone. Their friend and colleague, Detective Drake Parker was sitting on one of the spare chairs, eating a doughnut. He casually greeted Dee before turning back to ask, sotto voce, Ryo's advice about something. Probably his perpetually hopeless love life, thought Dee, rolling his eyes. He was much more interested in the doughnut than he was in hearing about which ways Drake was probably managing to piss off his latest screwball girlfriend. That doughnut in his hand obviously hadn't come from the narcotics guys. This one had a glaze on it. And chocolate sprinkles.

"Hey Drake," he said. "Any more doughnuts?"

"Nope, sorry." Drake turned a marginally apologetic gaze on him. "This is the last one."

Dee sighed noisily. "This whole day sucks."

"Come on, man, it's only a doughnut."

"I don't actually give a shit about the doughnut," Dee said. "I wish I could get the fuck out of here, that's all. I can't believe I've got four fucking hours left to go."

"If you just stopped your endless procrastinating and got on with your paperwork, then the time would go by much faster," said Ryo in his best lecturing tone.

Dee snorted softly. Substitute 'homework' for 'paperwork', and he might as well be talking to Bikky. Whenever Ryo spoke to him in that superior 'dad'-voice he sometimes used, it usually filled Dee with a burning desire to grab him and remind him just how different he and Bikky really were. He looked at Ryo from under his lashes, wondering if he could get him to go for a bit of making out. His Ryo-radar told him that he had about a twenty percent chance. Not bad odds if he could get rid of Drake.

"Hey Drake, buddy, isn't JJ wondering where you are?

"Nah. He knows where I am. I told him I was coming here to spend part of my break with Ryo."

"Jeez, I'm surprised he's not here, too." Dee looked nervously at the door. Detective JJ Adams had a bad habit that involved occasionally throwing himself violently into Dee's arms for a 'hug', although Dee had to admit that the little shithead wasn't doing that as much as he used to. Now it was Drake who was equally likely to share the dubious honor of being JJ's pounce target.

"Well, he can't exactly go anywhere," Drake said, taking a sip of his coffee. "He promised to answer the phones. We're expecting an important call from a witness."

"How much time left on your break?" Dee asked pointedly.

Drake didn't pick up on it. "If you want me to join you for a smoke, the answer's no. I'm trying to quit again."

"What, again?" Dee's voice sounded incredulous. "Dude, what is this, like, the two hundredth time?"

"Don't listen to him, Drake," said Ryo quickly, and to Dee's disgust, started to give Drake a lengthy pep talk, complete with analogies. Fuck, at this rate, he'd never get Ryo all to himself. Unless he brought out the big guns, that is.

"Drake, you're losing your hair, man," said Dee, not caring that he was interrupting Ryo. He shot a searching glance at the other man's hairline, and then looked diplomatically away.

"What? Really?" Drake immediately put down the doughnut he had been holding and patted his hair with anxious fingers.

"Yeah, little bit. It's not that noticeable, though."

"Damn." Drake sprang to his feet and left the room, presumably to find a mirror.

Dee immediately locked the door behind him, saying, "Buh-bye," in a sing-song voice. When his eyes met Ryo's, they sparkled with mischief.

Ryo looked disapprovingly at Dee as he approached. There was a slight tension suddenly apparent in his manner that betrayed the fact that Ryo had already ascertained that his partner was up to no good. "That was mean, Dee," he said. "There's nothing wrong with his hair that I can see."

"True, and he'll find that out when he gets to the men's room. Now come here and give me a kiss, and I'm talking a real one with tongue action and spit-swapping, and everything."

"What? How can you think about kissing when you've hardly made any progress on your work?" Ryo was doing his best to sound surprised, but Dee wasn't fooled. No one had better cause than Ryo to know just how easy it was for Dee to think about kissing and similar activities when he was faced with a mountain of unappealing work.

"Come on, just ten seconds. Remember that woman on TV who was talking about how couples keep the spice in their relationships by giving each other a ten-second kiss at least once a day?"

"Yes, and I don't see why we can't do a twenty or thirty-second kiss - hell, even a ten-minute kiss, but after we've put in an honest day's work," said Ryo, hastening to get one of the desks between himself and Dee.

Dee noted that his partner had pretty well put himself in a checkmate position. He was now trapped in a cul-de-sac between two desks and a wall. In another moment or two, Dee would be blocking his only avenue of escape. One thing he could never be sure of was whether Ryo did this sort of thing on purpose, or whether it was a subconscious reaction. Whichever it was, he didn't care. He knew it wouldn't be long now before he got his hands on that beautiful body he had been dying to touch all day.

-End of Part One-

Additional author's notes:  And thus ends Dee's POV. We take up part two, 'The Hunted', with Ryo's POV.

To get an idea of exactly where Ryo is now trapped, please refer to their office set-up at their new (well, new-old) building in FAKE, volume 7. Specifically look at the picture where Ryo is greeting Diana and remarking that she was dressed in 'muted tones'.

I'll deliver part two by Thursday. I want to tweak it some first.


Tags: doughnuts at the 27th precinct, fake

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