brit_columbia (brit_columbia) wrote,

FAKE First Year Together: A New Day (May) Ch 42

Hello faithful readers! I'm so sorry for making you wait. I had a number of issues that slowed me down last week, including the hard drive crashing on my computer, which meant I didn't have my main computer (the one with the LEMON file on it that I've been trying to write for a couple of weeks now) for five whole days. The guys at the Mac shop were able to salvage most of my files, but they're all in Text Edit now because my word program seems to have totally disappeared. Text Edit is rather limited--only one font! I'll admit I experienced a moment's angst when I realized that all my files had been transferred over to a different program. I thought, 'What if those guys at the Mac shop accidentally (eep!) read some of my smuttier files as they were doing their fixing and transferring?' But then I recalled that the two that I had spoken to struck me as quite possibly gay or bi, and if so, they probably wouldn't have been too grossed out. They were also certainly young enough to know what 'lemon' means, so if they specifically wanted to avoid smut, they could have averted their eyes or made the guy with the least seniority take over that onerous chore. And they've probably seen worse things on other people's computers and are blase about it by now!

I wrote the lemon in this chapter in fifteen-minute bursts, because recently someone always wants something, or the phone rings, or I have to go to an appointment whenever I get a little bit of time to myself. I used to get around this problem by staying up until 2 AM, but ever since I got sick at Christmas, I haven't had the same stamina for staying awake and getting through the day on 4 to 6 hours of sleep. Anyway, I hate writing lemons in short bursts. I prefer to let myself sink into the moment and write the whole scene straight through. I think this one worked out in the end, though.

I'll add a few more things about what's new with me in another post, but for now I'll shut up and let you get on with your reading. BTW, this chapter is NOT WORKSAFE! Be careful.

Fake First Year Together: A New Day (May)

By Brit Columbia

Chapter 42

Fandom:  Fake
Pairing:  Dee/ Ryo
Rating:  Man-Sex! Not worksafe! All sex happens between two men who are in a loving relationship. There is also some violence in this chapter.
Spoilers:  To Volume 7
Timing:  Set in May, directly after book 7 ended
Summary:  Ryo is coming to terms with his new sexual identity, as well as the changes in his relationship with Dee.  Meanwhile, Dee and Ryo are trying to find enough evidence to expose a crooked cop. This story explores homophobic attitudes, but is primarily a love story between two men.
Disclaimer:  I do not own Fake or any of the characters created by Sanami Matoh. Lieutenant Abernathy is mine however, along with Detective Fox, Detective Greenspan, Alan Radley and his grandmother. I have not based these characters on any living person.
Author's notes:  I believe in a strong and equal Ryo and Dee. It was the FAKE 2nd Chances RPG which inspired the striptease. If you ever want to check out the RPG, you can find it here:  fake_2nd_chance
Thank you to  mtemplar and   the_ladyfeather

A New Day

Chapter 42

"Dee! Stop eating the cold cuts! If you give me two seconds, I can get them in a sandwich for you." Ryo glared at his partner, who was cramming slices of smoked turkey into his mouth.

Dee mumbled something unintelligible and grabbed the pickle jar off the end of the counter before disappearing into the living room.

Ryo shook his head impatiently and resumed making sandwiches. Whole wheat bread, meat slices, pickles--no, not pickles, since they had been abducted-- sliced tomatoes, lettuce, mustard, mayo--

"I thought you wanted lunch," protested Ryo, as Dee reappeared, still chewing, and took the mayonnaise jar out of his hand before replacing it on the counter.

Dee didn't respond. He just stared at Ryo for a moment with an expression that Ryo knew well. Before he could think of anything to say, Ryo found himself seized and slammed back against the fridge, which seemed to rock under the sudden pressure. The force of it sent the heavier magnets sliding and coupons fluttering, although at least one of the magnets, a particularly lumpy one, seemed to lodge itself in the center of his back. Ryo immediately scrabbled frantically behind himself with his left hand and dislodged it. Dee didn't notice.

"Hey! D--" Ryo began to protest, but his voice was stilled by the sensation of Dee's teeth fastening onto the skin and muscle at the side of his neck. He could feel his lover beginning to suck a mark there, and a long, shaky breath escaped him at the tingling burn of it. His fingers spasmed on the handle of the mayonnaise knife, and a moment later it clattered onto the floor, unheeded by his partner, who was now licking a hot, wet trail firmly up his neck to his ear. "Dee," he repeated in a breathless and futile attempt to sound calm and normal, "let me go, for Pete's sake! You don't have to seduce me. I'm all for the plan. Lunch and then sex. Remember the plan?"

Half-closed but alert green eyes glanced Ryo's way for a moment before Dee started nuzzling Ryo's throat. "New plan," he muttered. "Sex first, then lunch."

"Easy for you to say," muttered Ryo resentfully. "You've had half the turkey and most of the pickles. I haven't eaten anything."

Dee looked somewhat chagrined, but the intent look never left his face.

"Are you hungry, love?" he murmured, kissing Ryo's mouth lightly, but with a little parting nibble before he disengaged. "You want a sandwich?"

"Well, yeah," said Ryo, whose eyes had slid to Dee's withdrawing mouth. "Early breakfast, you know..."

"Here, eat this." Dee reached over to his right and picked up one of the sandwich halves that Ryo had made, and waved it under Ryo's nose. It was laden with turkey and greens and slices of juicy red tomato. Despite himself, Ryo inhaled the scent of it appreciatively.

Dee gave him an encouraging smile, and for a moment he imagined that Ryo had showed signs of being tempted. But then his partner seemed to collect himself. He turned his face aside and looked at Dee disapprovingly.

"I don't want to eat it standing up and squished against the fridge! Whatever happened to sitting down at the table and eating a meal like civilized people?"

"That's what people do when they're not horny as hell and constantly being interrupted. Besides, I'm not civilized." Dee ground his crotch in a slow circle against Ryo's, unashamed of the hot, heavy erection between his legs. "C'mon, eat your sandwich and after you're done, I'll throw you down on the kitchen table and fuck you on it." He grinned, not only because Ryo was blushing, but because he could feel his partner's cock starting to stiffen against his own.

"What, you never had sex on the kitchen table before?" Dee poked the sandwich against Ryo's firmly closed lips, leaving a trace of mayonnaise behind.

Ryo's only answer was to raise a hand to take the sandwich, but Dee knocked his arm down with his other hand. "Uh-uh, no you don't. Lemme feed you." He leaned in and licked the mayonnaise off his partner's mouth. "In between kisses, of course..."

"You're-- mmph--" Whatever Ryo had been about to say was forgotten amidst the sweet magic of Dee's lips and tongue. Without words, Dee let him know how much he wanted and desired him, and how very soon he intended for them both to be naked.

When Dee pulled back, Ryo emitted a little gasp and tried to follow his lover's mouth with his own. He was met by the sandwich.

"Open up, babe. Let's get some sustenance into you. You're gonna need all your strength to keep up with me this afternoon."

"Me?" Ryo's mouth dropped open in surprise. "I'm not the one who got himself shot and knocked out only one short week ago, remember. In fact--mmph!"

Dee had managed to get a corner of the sandwich stuffed partially inside Ryo's mouth, and Ryo realized his best course of action was actually to stop talking and start eating. Accordingly, he took a small bite and chewed it slowly while glaring at Dee.

Dee rolled his eyes. "Yeesh, I keep forgetting what a slow eater you are. You don't have to chew every bite fifty-three times, you know."

Ryo chewed a few more times and then swallowed. As he opened his mouth to retort, the sandwich was once more thrust between his lips. He had no choice but to bite it again.

"Seven, eight, nine..."  Dee counted, watching Ryo's mouth closely.

Ryo stopped chewing long enough to mumble, "Quit watching me eat!" He could sense his cheeks getting warm again, and he felt just about ready to shove Dee away.

"Why? You're cute when you eat. Twelve, thirteen, forty-one...and he swallows!"

"Dee, back off," growled Ryo warningly. If Dee stuffed that sandwich into his mouth again, he was going to be sorry.

"Kiss-break," announced Dee and nibbled the other side of Ryo's neck. To his delight, it made Ryo quiver, as usual. His partner's neck was a major erogenous zone, and Dee knew that if he could get his lips and teeth on it whenever Ryo was feeling peeved or stressed about something, it would have him moaning and shivering in practically no time.

"Dee...Oh, jeez....Don't mark me there too, okay? Mmmm..." He couldn't help writhing sensuously against his partner's long, lean body.

"Why not?" Dee's voice was husky against the lobe of his ear. "I'll mark you under your collar line. No one will see."

"Bikky will see. And my whole Karate class tonight." Ryo moaned softly as he felt Dee's teeth gently moving along the line of his jaw.

"Bikky will understand," Dee whispered teasingly. "And your Karate class will be happy for you that you're finally getting some action after not showing up with signs of love on your body for, like three fucking years..."

"Dee, Bikky will NOT understand! And I really don't want my Karate classmates to spend so much as one second speculating about my sex life! How can you even--mmph!"

Dee's lips had once more descended upon his, preventing him from finishing his sentence. Ryo felt a hot flicker of tongue asking for entrance. He found he didn't have it in him to refuse it, and a moment later, Dee's tongue was sliding hotly into his mouth. Ryo kissed him back hard, struggling for dominance as their tongues nudged each other aggressively.

Dee withdrew again, licking his lips mischievously.  "Mmmm, turkey," he said.

Ryo flushed bright red all the way down to his neck and under the collar of his shirt. His eyes flashed and his palm shot out, catching Dee in the center of his chest and moving him back a couple of paces. "That's enough!" he said, and pointed imperiously at the table. "We're sitting down to eat right now, and after we do, I think I might just brush my teeth!"

"But you... taste good," protested Dee weakly, already regretting the crack about the turkey. Until he had gone that one step too far, he had had Ryo on the verge of capitulation. He sat down warily at the kitchen table, ready to do whatever Ryo wanted for the time being.


Lieutenant Mike Abernathy  buzzed the number for Alan Radley's apartment, and a woman's voice answered. She sounded old and tired.

"Good morning, ma'am," he said. "Police. Would you mind buzzing me up?"

"P-police?" The tiredness suddenly left her voice, replaced by dismay and alarm. "What's this about?"

"I'm looking for an Alan Radley," he said into the intercom. "The hospital told me he'd been discharged. It's customary for us to investigate matters of alleged assault."

"Oh! Well... I'm not sure now is a good time, officer," she said hesitantly. "You see, he's sleeping. He was in a lot of pain and they sent him home with something that would help him with that."

"May I come in anyway? I'd like to chat with you for a minute and perhaps leave my card."

"Well... I don't see why not, although there's not much I can tell you."


An elderly African-American woman leaning on a walker answered the door. She was small and prune-like, and peered up at him through thick glasses that made her anxious eyes seem unnaturally huge.

"You don't look like a police officer," she remarked suspiciously.

Mike duly flashed her his badge, along with a perfunctory smile. "That's because I'm a plainclothes officer now, ma'am. Me uniform days are long behind me."

"Oh, yes of course. Like a lot of those TV cops," she said, nodding her grizzled head. "Well, come in, then. I hope this won't take long. My soap's coming on in about ten minutes."

"Thank you, not long at all," he said shortly and stepped carefully past the old biddy and her walker. A short, dim hallway led onto a cozily furnished but old-fashioned living room, complete with crocheted end-table covers and framed needlepoint pictures on the walls. A large, modern, flat-screened TV, incongruous amidst the shabby furnishings and old-lady clutter, energetically flashed images and color from a corner. Mike noted that the sound had been muted, perhaps in honor of his 'police' visit, or maybe it was so as not to disturb the convalescing Mr. Radley. The lieutenant's eyes swept around the apartment looking for doors. He had passed one in the hall on the way in, which he had taken for a bathroom, and now he saw a short hallway leading off the kitchen. There would be bedrooms over that way, he'd wager. That would be where he would find the troublesome Mr. Radley.


Dee sat at the kitchen table, drinking mineral water and wondering what was going through his partner's mind. Ryo suddenly seemed self-conscious, even a little irritable, which was quite a big change from the desire-filled creature he had been only five or so minutes ago when he had been panting against Dee's neck, his dick hard in his pants.

Now, unfortunately, there seemed to be a distance between them. Ryo was eating his sandwich, seemingly with great concentration, as though sex were the furthest thing from his mind. Every so often, he glanced Dee's way, his eyes bright with suspicion, his guard obviously up. He appeared to be expecting an attack momentarily.

Dee briefly considered fulfilling his partner's expectations for him in one mad, condiment-scattering lunge, but dismissed the idea. Something was up with Ryo, and he wasn't sure what it was, but he had a sense that his partner didn't want to be manhandled right at the moment.

Before he could think through the matter further, his cell phone startled him by ringing loudly in the front pocket of his jeans.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, digging it out. "If that's the Chief, I'm telling him we both have the fucking stomach flu-- ah, it's Ted. He'd better not want anything from us that involves work. Yo, Ted! What the fuck do you want?"

"Nothing, asshole. I just thought I'd be a nice guy and give you an update on developments with Shaver. But if it's too much trouble--"

"Just fucking spit it out, wouldya? Did you go to his place?"

"Yeah, man. Guess where I am right now? Been stuck here for an hour. It's a washout. Place is not only empty, but swabbed out and disinfected, too. The manager said he evicted him as of the 31st."

"That's right, he did," said Dee remembering the aftermath of Essien Ibo's visit to Shaver last Monday. "I didn't think he was serious though."

"He said Shaver told him he wouldn't fight it."

"Did you get CSI in?"

"Nope. Shaver's lieutenant from the 51st wanted to, but the Commish pulled rank.The official word is that CSI resources are spread too thin to call 'em in on something that ain't a murder scene. Chief told us to look for traces of gunpowder, diesel, crap like that. But apparently a team from Momma-Maids went through this place yesterday and scrubbed everything squeaky clean. We're waiting on them now."

"You go through the dumpster yet?"

"You won't believe this, but apparently it's garbage day in the South Bronx! The trucks have been and gone."

"Fuck, lucky you, huh?" Dee had had to sort through a few garbage dumpsters in his time with the NYPD. A couple of times, it must have been the day before garbage day, because the dumpsters had been full to overflowing. That had sucked big time. Searching dumpsters was his least favorite way of collecting evidence.

"Well, I dunno," Ted replied. "We're scared the Chief's gonna send us to Harlem River Rail Yard to pick through a mountain of garbage. If that happens, we are so screwed. JJ will probably freak out, 'cause he's got a hot date tonight that he won't shut up about."

Dee laughed. "I bet you a case of beer that if the Chief sends you garbage-digging, the Commish will say no to that one, too."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Shaver's a dead hero and Rose wants him to stay that way."


Ryo returned from the bathroom looking a little self-conscious. Dee was waiting for him, sprawled in his chair with a toothpick in his mouth. One booted foot rested comfortably on Ryo's chair. He almost wanted to laugh at the way Ryo's slightly uncertain expression changed to a small frown of disapproval at the sight of Dee's foot in a place where it shouldn't be.

"Dude, I can so read your mind."

"You can not." Ryo pushed Dee's foot off his chair and sat down.

"Yes, I can. Want me to tell you what you're thinking?"

Ryo leaned back in his chair, trying to look nonchalant. Even if Dee was right, he planned to deny it. "Give it your best shot, Detective Laytner."

Dee held up three fingers. "One: you're wondering about the kitchen table as a potential sex location, but you think the dirty dishes ought to go in the sink first, and maybe the table ought to be wiped down, too. Two: you're not one hundred percent sure the kitchen table can take it without collapsing under us, and three: above all, you're worried about the neighbors, since the door's right over there."

Dee raised his eyebrows and grinned in a way that Ryo found infuriating. Or endearing. One of those two. He couldn't help laughing. "Dee, you're something else. Have you always been this cocky?"

"Yeah, but it definitely got worse after puberty. You wanna take a shot at guessing what I'm thinking?"

Ryo snorted. "Gee, like that's gonna be a challenge."

Dee tossed his toothpick on the table and leaned forward in his seat. "Okay, fine, you don't wanna guess. I'll tell ya. I'm thinking you're not totally down with me being my usual, pushy, hot-to-trot self today. The anticipation's kinda got you on edge."

Surprised, Ryo opened his mouth to deny it, but then realized that Dee had a point. "Well... maybe a little. Maybe we could just, um, slow down a bit?"

"Sure, babe. We can slow it down as much as you want. See, I been thinking.... It's always me grabbing you, me kissing you, me trying to feel you up, right?"

"Er, right."

"You never get to initiate things because I'm always right there ahead of you, trying to drag your pants off before you've even decided if you're horny or not."

Ryo didn't know what to say. It was true. He was willing to admit that he had been very passive so far in this relationship. Now, although Dee was rather tactfully putting the blame on himself, his partner was obviously wanting him to take a more active role. And of course his face was getting hot again, naturally. Damn it. The fact that he tended to blush at inconvenient moments was one of the few constants among all the unpredictable events of his life so far.

"I..." he began, and then took a deep breath before continuing, a trifle stiffly. "I take it you're wanting me to initiate things from now on?"

"Naw, sweetheart, you're getting the wrong idea. I'm not complaining. I'm a man who's living his dream come true." Dee reached across the table and took one of Ryo's hands in both of his. "And believe me, the reality of sex with you has been twice as hot as my hottest fantasies. I'll gladly seduce you every day for the rest of your life, if that works for you. And if I could get away with it," he added, running his fingers over Ryo's palm, pressing gently into the pad at the base of his thumb, and then moving over to the back of his hand to trace the row of knuckles. "I just thought... you might like to, you know, for your own sake, sometimes be the one to get the ball rolling. Once in a while you act like that might be what you want, but then I end up pulling you along with me at my pace."

He regarded the strong, masculine hand he was holding, and then looked into Ryo's  eyes. "Am I making any sense at all, or am I just making a hash of this?"

Ryo tugged his hand out from both of Dee's and gave one of his partner's hands an affectionate squeeze. "I think I understand," he said. "You're offering to hold still for a while and try to control yourself so that I can...touch you in ways that I want without expecting that any moment you're going to throw me up against the fridge or down on the table."

"Yeah," said Dee, nodding and grinning. "Yeah. Pretty much. I don't know how long I can be a good boy, though, so don't take too long."

"Okay," said Ryo. "But don't distract me by talking. No smart-ass remarks, all right?"

"You mean I should be a good boy and keep my mouth shut? Only for you, babe. Only for you."

Ryo gave him a doubtful look, so Dee added, "Shutting up now."

Ryo rose and pulled Dee to his feet. "Let's go to the bedroom," he said.

Dee let Ryo lead him into the bedroom by the hand. His eyes were glued to Ryo's small, muscular ass cheeks as they moved inside the confines of the thin fabric of his slacks. It was showtime. Finally.

Dee nodded approvingly as Ryo locked the bedroom door. Even though they were alone in the apartment, he considered that a very wise precaution to take. Sure, the monkey brat was supposed to be at school, but hell, the little twerp had more or less made a career of popping up at inconvenient moments. And then there had been that time when not only Bikky, but also JJ had burst into this very bedroom and caught Dee on top of a partially clothed Ryo. If possible, JJ had seemed more traumatized than Bikky over the incident, but Bikky had been so focused on Carol and the danger she was in, that for once, he hadn't really taken in the details of what the two men had been doing. It had been a long time before Dee had been able to get Ryo to agree to another 'test drive' after that.

Stay there," Ryo said to Dee, and then crawled across the bed to lower the blind at the window. Suddenly the room was dimmer and they had total privacy.

When Ryo turned back to him, there was a new look on his face, one that Dee couldn't define. He waited, his eyes burning into Ryo's.

Come here and touch me, he thought, hoping that Ryo would somehow get his silent message. Don't make me wait.

Ryo didn't. He eased himself off the bed and walked slowly and deliberately toward Dee. He stopped a couple of feet in front of him, and Dee saw those dark eyes give him an appreciative once-over before Ryo reached out a hand to caress Dee's hard chest. Dee closed his eyes for a moment and covered Ryo's hand with his own as it roamed from one pectoral to the other, and down over his tautly muscled belly. He was acutely aware of Ryo's nearness, his scent, his body heat, the hunger in his eyes. Dee's skin felt electrified under his clothing. The fabric of his black tank top bunched slightly under Ryo's hand as it moved over his body, and he was conscious of a longing to be naked. He thought about starting to take his clothes off, but rejected the idea. He had agreed to let Ryo set the pace. For all he knew, maybe Ryo wanted to undress him himself.

Ryo moved out from in front of Dee, trailing his hand firmly over Dee's non-injured side before stepping behind him and pressing up against his back. His penis was getting hard in his pants, and he wondered if Dee's was, too. When he slid his hand down to cup Dee's package, a jolt went though Dee, and Ryo heard him suck his breath in sharply. Dee's penis was not merely hard, it was rock hard and ready. Dee's compact buttocks felt muscular and yet yielding against his groin, and Ryo rubbed his erection against them boldly.

This was not the first time he had actively touched Dee in a sexual way with foreplay on his mind. About a week ago, he had massaged, stroked, kissed and touched his lover all over before taking his penis in his mouth and sucking him to completion. Ryo's motivation had been different at that time. He hadn't really been in a sexual kind of mood. His feelings had been more centered around relief and gratitude that Dee had not been killed by the crazy skinhead who had shot him the night before. If the decision had been Ryo's, he would actually rather have just cuddled. But he had found it necessary to promise Dee a blowjob earlier in the day to get him to cooperate at the hospital, and Dee was adamantly determined to collect, especially once Bikky had gone out to start collecting funeral money. While massaging Dee, Ryo had enjoyed feeling like he was in charge for once, and he knew there was no danger of Dee leaping up and throwing him down because his partner was not only recovering from having been shot, but also suffering from the aftereffects of a concussion.

Ryo had given him pleasure with no expectation that the favor would be returned. He just wanted to do what he could for Dee to ensure that he got as good a night's sleep as possible. Dee, however, had insisted on being allowed to reciprocate sexually. Ryo, who had known he was in no shape for it, tricked him into submitting to another massage, in the middle of which, Dee had fallen asleep.

Now, he smiled against the back of Dee's neck and stroked his lover's penis where it strained against his jeans. He had every intention of sucking it for Dee again, and despite his desire to experience having the upper hand for a while longer, he also had every intention of opening his legs for it later. He had been thinking about it since he woke up this morning.

My lover is a man, he thought, as he anticipated the pleasure that no woman could give him.

Dee tilted his head back against Ryo's. "Baby...?" he whispered. "Can I open my pants?"

"Oh, you can do more than that," said Ryo, continuing to stroke his partner's rigid member. "I want you to undress yourself. Now, please."

"Hot damn!" Dee's hands flew to his button and zipper, but faltered when Ryo stopped him with his hand.

"No," said Ryo. "Not like that. Slowly. Stay where you are, okay?" He moved out from behind Dee and strolled over to the bed as casually as he could, despite having a hard-on in his own pants that was making walking difficult for him. He eased himself down in a comfortable position on the bed and let his eyes roam over Dee's broad-shouldered form once more.

Dee stood there waiting, his hands still on the fastening of his jeans. Ryo was acting calm and imperturbable, but Dee would have staked his bottom dollar on it being an act. His beloved was a little nervous, but he was also undeniably aroused, if that tent-pole in the front of his pants was anything to go by. But in addition to that, it was quite clear that Ryo wanted something, and he thought he knew what it was. He would do anything for Ryo, and it seemed like right now what Ryo wanted was to watch him take his clothes off.

"Slowly?" he repeated.

Ryo nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Do"

Dee stared at him in amazement for a moment. Ryo had just said the word 'sexy'! He was pretty sure he hadn't heard his partner utter that word more than once before. And Ryo seemed to want him to...

"Just so I got this straight," he said, "are you asking me to perform a striptease?"

"Yes," said Ryo huskily.

"If I perform a striptease for you, will you do the same for me sometime?"

"No." Ryo shook his head with no trace of hesitation. "Sorry."

"Well, what makes you think I can actually do this?"

"I heard about the fundraiser for the K9 unit in Brooklyn," Ryo said, still in that same husky voice, "in your second year with the force. So I know you can do it."

Dee tried, he really tried to prevent himself from smirking, but the urge to smirk got the better of him. "All right then," he said. "But if I do this for you, keeping in mind that it's without important props like music and tearaway pants, can I please get back in the driver's seat again?"

Ryo smiled at him, a sex-charged smile. "I'll think about it," was the only answer he gave. "Now strip for me."

Dee grinned at him and started swaying on his feet, his hands still on the button of his jeans. "I didn't take it all off for the fundraiser, you know," he said. "Plus I didn't go all out because I knew a few wives of the brass were watching. But for you, I'm gonna do the sexed-up version." With a flick of his wrist, he opened the button fastening of his jeans and loosened the zipper a shade, just to give himself a bit of room to move.

The first thing he took off was the blue shirt, which hung open on his chest. He didn't have to unbutton it because he had already done that when he had entered the apartment with Ryo. But he moved his shoulders in it seductively, slipping it down over first one, then the other, while looking back at Ryo with wickedness in his eyes. When he finally removed it, he let it dangle by one sleeve and played with it as though it were a feather boa. He draped it around his neck and tossed his head flirtatiously at Ryo before turning around and pulling it back and forth in a 'flossing' motion from crotch to out-thrust ass.
Ryo fell back on the bed laughing at the sight, and laughed even harder when the blue shirt sailed through the air and landed on his face. When he looked back at Dee, Dee was dancing with his hands inside his tank top, one going down the scoop neckline and the other one coming up underneath. He caressed his own chest and stomach while smirking lazily at Ryo.

"Bet you wish these were your hands on this hot bod, hey babe?"

"Soon, it will be my hands," Ryo informed him, and then held up a warning finger. "No! Not yet. Don't stop dancing. This is the best show ever."

"Well, as long as you're enjoying yourself." Dee slid his tank top up so that one pectoral was completely exposed. He began to roll and pinch his nipple while caressing his still-erect cock through his jeans with his other hand, a combination that seemed almost to wipe the smirk from his face. He kept dancing in a sultry way throughout.

When Dee had teasingly lifted the tank top and let it fall several times, he finally deemed it time to bare his chest altogether. He pulled the tight fitting shirt up and over his head, shaking his hair back out of his eyes when he had done so. He twirled the tank top around his head like a lasso before tucking it through the center belt loop on the back of his jeans.

Before Ryo had time to wonder what he was doing, Dee had turned around and started undulating his behind so that the tank top attached to the back of his pants swished like a tail. Then he swung it in a circular motion, grinning back at Ryo, his hands on either side of his head. Ryo rolled onto his belly, shaking with laughter. He hadn't known it was possible to be so amused and yet so aroused at the same time. He couldn't help grinding his erection into the mattress as he watched Dee's antics.

His partner had a very sexy body, and he knew how to move it. He danced with self-assurance and playfulness, leaving Ryo shaking his head with admiration. He never could have done such a thing, never. Not even to save his life. He could have either danced or taken off his clothes, but he didn't think he would ever be able to do both at the same time, especially as some kind of show. And how did Dee think up all these imaginative moves? Even with time to consider it, Ryo didn't think he could have come up with more than one or two ideas.

No, he was certainly never going to perform a striptease for Dee, but he was going to make sure Dee danced like this again for him soon. Perhaps even with music and those tearaway pants Dee had mentioned.

As Ryo watched, Dee dropped down gracefully to the floor, where he lay on his back, thrusting first his chest and then his hips into the air, while caressing his bare torso boldly. Stroking his hand slowly up and down his penis, he raised his legs into the air, and using the toe of one foot against the heel of the other, he eased his boots off smoothly, one by one. When they were off, he rose fluidly to his feet and pulled the zipper of his jeans all the way down. A tantalizing glimpse of dark, tufty hair appeared, which caused Ryo  to smile wryly because it meant that Dee was not wearing underwear, a sometime habit of his that Ryo disapproved of. He craned forward, hoping to catch sight of something more. However, the real prize, the bulging length of Dee's cock, remained obscured, still held in place by his hand.

Dee turned around, hips rotating slowly, and let the jeans fall halfway down the crack of his athletic ass a couple of times, jerking them up again, before letting them fall even lower the next time. Then he turned back to face Ryo again and peeled his denims down over his hips, proudly displaying his erection while continuing to dance. There was a slight flush to his cheeks and a sparkle in his eye. His teeth looked very white as he flashed a confident grin at Ryo.

Ryo sighed and stared at him. "Ah, Dee," he said. "I can't believe you're mine."

Dee's flush deepened somewhat, but he never broke eye contact with Ryo as he sensually pushed his jeans down over the front of his thighs, finally stepping out of them and kicking them away. He stood straight and tall with his hands on his hips, a vision of exhibitionistic male beauty. "Well? Good?"

"Magnificent," agreed Ryo, applauding from where he lay on his belly.

"Okay, baby, time's up. The captain's back on the bridge and he's got a date with that hot little ass of yours. Let's get you naked." Dee strode toward the bed, his erection bobbing.

Laughing, Ryo allowed Dee to undress him, which he did efficiently and expeditiously. When all of Ryo's clothes right down to his socks had been removed and tossed onto the floor, Dee lowered his long, powerful body onto Ryo's, emitting a sensual groan as he felt their dicks rub against each other. "Finally, finally," he breathed, moving against Ryo's maleness. "Gonna fuck you, Ryo. Gonna fuck you hard for making me wait."

"Yes," murmured Ryo, kissing his face. "Yes, do it. But first, I...I..."

"What?" Dee kissed his mouth, giving him a little tongue, a little nibble.

"I want know..."

"Aw, sweetheart, you don't have to," Dee said affectionately, correctly guessing what Ryo was most likely referring to. He knew that sucking dick was not Ryo's favorite thing at all, but he was touched and grateful that his partner desired to give him pleasure in that way.

"But I want to," Ryo replied, and then surprised Dee by adding, "I, um, thought about it in the shower this morning."

Intrigued, Dee stared at him. "You did? Really?" His baby was full of surprises today.

"Yeah." Ryo lowered his eyes.

"I gotta know. Did you beat off while you were thinking about it?"

Ryo's eyes flew open. "Wha--? That's none of your business!"

"Sure it is. See, if you jerked off in the shower this morning, you've taken some pressure off, which means you're gonna take a little longer to unload, whereas if you didn't...well, that means you're not gonna last as long once I get busy with you. That's valuable intel for the guy who's in charge of satisfying you." Dee continued to rub his cock against his lover's. His slit was weeping, and making Ryo's length all sexy-sticky.

"While I appreciate the fact that you've taken on the job of satisfying me, what a man does or doesn't do in the shower is his own business," Ryo said firmly, if a little breathlessly, rubbing back against Dee.

Dee chuckled against Ryo's hair. "I'll get you talking dirty yet, you know," he murmured, reaching under Ryo to grip one of his buttocks and subtly change the angle of contact between their bodies.

"Don't hold your bre--" Ryo  gasped softly as the tip of Dee's cock pressed even more insistently against his own, and rode up the length of it to the sensitive spot under its head.

"Feels good, huh? Like that?"

Ryo just moaned and moved against him.

Dee chuckled. "Sweetheart, I appreciate your very sweet offer, but could I get a raincheck on the blowjob until a little later?"

"Um...sure," Ryo got out.

"It's just that I wanna do you face to face, wanna be inside you, ASAP." He squeezed Ryo's buttock again and looked down into his eyes. "I love watching your face while you take it, baby."

Ryo nodded and met his eyes. His heart was beating fast, his penis was leaking preseminal fluid all over the place, and he felt a hungry ache of anticipation down below his balls. The most private, personal part of his anatomy wanted to have a dick shoved up it. He couldn't believe that a couple of months ago, he had been scared and appalled at the very thought, whereas now he seemed to have become addicted.

Ryo ran his hands up and down Dee's body as Dee reached over to the nightstand to fetch the lube. "Dee, you feel so good," he whispered.

"I'm all about feeling good." Dee pushed the nightstand drawer closed and raised himself up from Ryo's body, the tube of lubricant in his hand. "Now spread 'em, sweetheart. I want in."

Ryo didn't hesitate. He wanted Dee in, too. His breath came faster at the cool, slick touch of the lube, and even though he knew what Dee was about to do, he still made a little startled sound of surprise when Dee's index finger abruptly slid into him.

Dee bent his head and licked Ryo's shaft and balls while he worked that tight, puckered opening beneath them, adding a second finger, and then a third when the sphincter muscles stopped resisting him. He continued massaging the sensitive gland just inside his lover's body, stroking the inner walls, sliding his fingers in deep and then pulling back to spread them wider at the entrance. Ryo's dick was as big as he'd ever seen it, and as hard too, like hot, velvet-covered steel. He recognized that Ryo was actually getting quite close to coming, so he backed off on the licking, just giving him an occasional flick of the tongue. The man beneath him was moaning and panting, close to losing control. Maybe he hadn't jerked off in the shower, after all.

"Dee, no more!"

"I agree," muttered Dee, withdrawing his fingers. He squeezed more lubricant onto his cock, which jerked pleasurably at his own touch. "Lift your legs up for me...Yeah, like that. God, you're beautiful."

He mounted Ryo and nudged his erection against his partner's well-stretched and well-lubed entrance. "Ready, love?"

Ryo looked up at him and nodded quickly. He seemed a little anxious, so Dee said, "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

"It...always hurts a little at the beginning," Ryo admitted. "But after that, it feels good, really good. Just do it, Dee. Come on."

"All right, then. Here we go." Dee pushed forward, feeling the resistance of tight muscle, followed by a slight yielding. It wasn't total surrender, but it was enough to enable him to shove the head of his dick inside.

Ryo sucked in his breath sharply as he was breached, and he closed his eyes tightly, his mouth twisting, as he forced himself to relax and get used to the intimate invasion of his body. Before he was quite ready, he felt Dee slide in a little further. He squeezed Dee's biceps and muttered, "Wait--agh!--wait..."

"Sorry. I wanted to make sure I didn't accidentally pop back out." Dee's hands now rested on the mattress on either side of their joined bodies. "Baby, don't forget to---"

"Breathe," gasped Ryo, finishing the sentence for him with just a ghost of a grin. He took a deep breath through his nose, followed by another. "Thanks for reminding me. It Oh God..."

Dee felt some of the tension go out of Ryo's hands where they were gripping his arms.

"Better?" he asked.

"Yes. Dee. It's good. Move. Move, now. Give me more." Ryo's voice was low and breathy as he issued these demands.

"With pleasure," said Dee, who loved receiving such orders. He obeyed immediately, sinking slowly forward into Ryo's hot, willing channel until he was buried to the hilt. He was rewarded for this action by a hoarse cry from Ryo, and he knew it for a sound of excitement, rather than distress. He ground in a little bit more, before pulling back a couple of inches and pushing in again. Ryo responded with that same noise and ran his hands urgently over Dee's chest and shoulders. He was tight inside, tight and slick from the lubricant, aroused and receptive, one hundred percent in the moment. Dee knew what his lover wanted. He wanted friction, he wanted sensation, he wanted to be fucked hard and deep. He wanted to come with his ass stretched wide and full of cock.

Dee pumped him slowly at first, long deep strokes, in and out, watching Ryo's face as his body was filled with hard dick, over and over. A pink flush lay across those perfect cheekbones and his half-closed dark eyes glinted up at Dee with a slightly unfocused look. Ryo panted with effort and excitement, occasionally making a soft sound of pleasure when the head of Dee's erection rubbed against that sensitive little nub inside his body.

Dee held Ryo's legs while leaning down and kissing him sensually, taking his mouth with the same masterful thoroughness with which he was taking his ass. Ryo's arms went around him and he responded eagerly, kissing back with a demanding passion that Dee interpreted as a need for more rigorous handling. He reluctantly withdrew from his lover's sweet mouth and bit his neck and shoulder, not too hard, but hard enough. Ryo bucked under him and cried out his name.

"Ryo, baby. Jesus, you make me hot," growled Dee, giving him several hard, fast thrusts, which produced mewling sounds and a couple of delightful internal spasms. Dee shifted his knees on the bed, positioning himself for greater stability and then immediately set to thrusting, fucking Ryo hard, as promised. Luckily for him, Ryo came spontaneously and noisily after about fifteen strokes at that tempo, and Dee, who had known he couldn't hold out long at that pace, followed suit soon after. He held Ryo close to his chest, his heart hammering out a message of love and desire as his balls emptied their contents down the length of his shaft and out into the furthest reaches of Ryo's beloved body.

He stayed inside him after, his arms wrapped tightly around Ryo as his cock gradually softened, rocking gently against his lover's male strength. He closed his eyes at the blissful sensation of Ryo's hand tenderly stroking his hair, and must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing he knew, Ryo was stirring under him and nibbling his ear.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," said Ryo with a soft chuckle. "What was that you were saying earlier about how I was going to need all my strength to keep up with you this afternoon?"

"Huh?" Dee blinked at him sleepily, but in the next moment Ryo shifted under him again, and Dee's mind returned to full alertness at the realization that Ryo's dick was hard again and was twitching hopefully between their still-sticky bellies. He reached down between their bodies and took hold of it before kissing Ryo's cheek.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he said with a smile.

"Oh, I think so, maybe once or twice." Ryo was grinning at him. "But you haven't said it for a couple of days, so I was beginning to think you'd stopped."

"Never," said Dee fiercely. He knew his partner was joking, but the very idea that he could ever stop loving Ryo was absolutely alien to him. "I'll never stop loving you, no matter what. Even if you break my heart." He looked away for a moment and then looked back trying to summon up his usual jaunty smirk. "And by the way, please don't break my heart, all right?"

Ryo was not fooled by the smirk. He understood that in spite of the short nap, Dee was still in that post-sex emotional state that he was frequently subject to, and that humor was not the best way to handle him at the moment.

"I won't break your heart," he said softly. "It's mine and I take care of what's mine."

&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^&^ &^&

"Officer, would you like a glass of lemonade?"

Mike turned around to see the old girl staring earnestly at him through those heavy glasses of hers.

"Yes ma'am, that's surely most kind of you," he said, producing another of his casual smiles. "Here, let me give you a hand."

Overriding her protests, he strode into the kitchen ahead of her. Once there, he began opening one cupboard after another, hunting for glasses, and occasionally glancing down the hallway at the two bedroom doors. One of them was closed.

"Officer, please...let me do it! I'm perfectly capable, you know."

Well, and it's not that I'm doubting you, Mrs...?" Mike set a glass on the arborite counter, followed by another one.

"Mrs. Wright is my name, sir. And you are...?"

He ignored her question. "Alan is one lucky man to have you takin' care of him," he remarked. "Living in a nice place like this, with lemonade and home cooking, probably." His easy smile was still in place. A smile and some friendly banter usually smoothed the way.

"Oh well, I'm afraid I'm not much for cooking anymore. It's Alan who does most of the cooking now. He's a good boy, never any trouble." She shook her head sadly. "I just can't believe someone would do this to him. And a police officer, too! Alan thinks that race was an issue in this case, and it certainly seems that way to me, too."

"Well, that's what we want to find out about, Mrs. Wright. I'll be wanting to take a statement from him at some point. Did he tell you what happened?" He stepped around her and opened the fridge. Sure enough, there was a clear plastic pitcher of lemonade there with lemon rings floating in it.

"Not much so far. I wasn't able to meet him at the hospital, and we only talked briefly after he came home because of the medication he was on. He believes it started out as a case of mistaken identity. He also believes that the police officer who did this to him may have been on drugs. Apparently, the man's behavior was very erratic. Deranged, even. Alan...feels lucky to be alive!" She looked at him uncertainly after these words left her mouth, as though she regretted saying so much about one of this man's brothers in blue.

Mike's smile never faltered, although the muscles around his eyes seemed to harden for a moment. "Does he, now?"

"Perhaps you could give me your card, Officer," she said. "You mentioned that you wanted to leave it with us. When Alan wakes up, I'll have him call you."

"By all means, Mrs. Wright." Mike reached into an inside pocket of his jacket and produced an NYPD business card, which he handed to her. "Call me anytime."

"Thank you, Officer," she said, peering at the card through her thick glasses. "I'll keep this for Alan."

A sleepy voice called out from one of the rooms beyond the kitchen. "Who's there, Gram?"

"Ah! Sounds like he's awake, after all." Mike reached for the pitcher of lemonade.

"I'll be right there, honey," Mrs. Wright called back.  "It's just a--"

Mike interrupted her with a firm hand on her arm. "No need to announce me, ma'am.  I'll just whistle in there and introduce myself!"

"What? But---but---"

In a flash, Mike had pushed past her and walked purposefully to the door the voice had come from, the lemonade still in his hand. He thrust open the door and snapped on the light, revealing a room that was strewn with musical equipment. The slim black bastard, Mr. Radley, lay in a single bed in the corner, wincing and shielding his eyes against the sudden assault of light.

"Hey-ho, me boyo," Mike said softly. "Remember me?"

Radley made a choking sound and his eyes widened in fear, the whites showing all round the dark irises. He struggled to sit up, and  the blankets fell away, revealing white bandages on his torso.

"Officer!" called Mrs. Wright anxiously, still in the kitchen. Mike cocked an ear. She was a slow mover with that walker of hers. He needn't worry about her. Nonetheless, he shut the door. It didn't seem to have a lock on it.

"I'll be out in a minute, ma'am," he called. "Right after my little chat with your boy."

"Gram!" called Radley hoarsely. "Don't come in here!" To Mike, he added in a trembling voice, "Don't you hurt my grandmother, you son of a bitch."

"Big words from a fucked-up douchebag," scoffed Mike in a low voice, advancing on him. "You're fucked up, boy. Haven't you noticed? Flat on your back, you are. Weak. You can't do shit. Not now, not tomorrow, not next month."

"What the f-fuck do you want?" Radley was shaking so hard that his headboard was actually bumping lightly against the wall it was pressed against. He grabbed a pillow and held it protectively against his injured chest.

Mike flung the contents of the lemonade pitcher violently in his face. Radley gasped and sputtered, rubbing frantically at his eyes. His hair was practically standing on end.

"I want to give you a friendly warning, boy. They said at the hospital that you've been spouting some delirious shit about police brutality. Well, you know what? Me and my friends at the station don't like that at all. We don't take kindly to biased, unfounded allegations that serve no purpose but to make us look bad." Mike regarded the terrified young man through narrowed eyes. "D'ye think you think you can take on the whole NYPD with that black skin of yours and your police record? You think you and your sweet, frail little grandma have got a hope in hell?"

"Alan!" Mrs. Wright's voice was marginally closer.

"Gram!" Radley shouted. "Go back to the living room, okay?"

"We're almost done, Mrs. Wright," added Mike pleasantly.

"Okay, okay, I get it," Radley said quickly to Mike in a low voice. "I wasn't gonna make trouble anyway. I'm a low-profile kind of guy."

"That's good," said Mike, sitting down on the side of the bed, and reaching for Radley's protective pillow, "because I wouldn't want to have to come back here again with some muscle."

Radley desperately tried to maintain his grasp on the pillow, but failed. He just didn't have the strength.

"What--what more do you want?" Radley asked, his voice rising in his fear.

Mike held the pillow bunched in one fist. "Think of me as a teacher, boy. This is a lesson that all powerless cockroaches like yourself should learn. No matter how bad you think it is, it can always get worse."

He thrust the pillow over the other man's face and pressed him down hard into the mattress. Then he proceeded to beat him about the body with the base of the plastic pitcher, paying special attention to his bandages. The pitcher wouldn't break bones, but it would hurt like hell, which was his intention. Radley made muffled sounds of pain and tried feebly to protect himself. When he did, Mike just beat at his hands and fingers. If the man was some kind of musician, he would likely want to keep his fingers in good working order.

After a goodly amount of time had passed, Mike stopped beating Radley and removed the pillow from the tear-stained face beneath it. A little trickle of blood ran from Radley's nose, and he gasped for breath, his chest heaving.

Abernathy leaned over him like a lover, their faces close together. "Look at me, you piece of shit. Take a good look. Do I look like a man  that it's safe to cross?"

Radley shook his head rapidly, obviously scared witless.

Abernathy rose from the bed and pulled the sheets up over Radley's bandages. A couple of them were showing red stains.

At that moment, there was a bumping sound at the door, probably the old woman's walker. The handle turned and the door scraped open across the carpet. She stood there, eyes wide with fright.

"Alan! Are you... What... Dear Lord..." She looked as though she might faint.

Cheeks flushed from exertion, Mike's glittering eyes swung enigmatically from the frail old lady to the defeated man in the bed and then back to her. He wasn't entirely sure why, but at the sight of her, his grip tightened on the handle of the pitcher. Perhaps it was because he was done here and she was blocking his exit.

Radley reached a reddened hand to tug piteously at the hem of Mike's jacket. "Please," he whispered. A tear slid down his cheek.

Mike shook off the beseeching hand with contempt. "What do you take me for, boy? Some kind of monster?" What did the lad think---that he was going to knock the old woman down?

"Gram...Please move," Radley said. "Let him go."

She blinked at him in distress for a moment before his words sank in. "Oh! Yes. Yes, of course." She and her walker ponderously backed up a few paces, and Abernathy squeezed past her.

"Thank you both for your cooperation," he said solemnly to her. "I'll see myself out."

He smiled quietly to himself as he walked down the hall of the apartment building, straightening his tie as he went. There'd be no more trouble from that quarter, he'd wager a month's wages on that. And if either Radley or his old granny changed their minds in the future for any reason, they'd have a wee bit of trouble tracking him down. A good day's work, all in all.

In Mrs. Wright's apartment, however, terror and confusion still reigned.

"Let me call 911! You've been hurt-- you need medical attention---I just can't believe---"

Alan grabbed the phone from his grandmother's hand. "Gram, I told you, no! It's too dangerous. You don't understand. If you call 911, the police are bound to show up."

"Well, I think it's about time we talked to a real police officer," she said querulously. "That awful man must have had a fake badge. I'm so sorry, dear. I never should have let him in..." Her sentence ended in a sob and her frail shoulders shook for a moment before she managed to get control of herself. She wanted to be strong for her grandson. She didn't want him to see her cry, not now when he was in so much pain himself.

"Gram, he WAS a police officer. I was in his car the other night. He had a police radio, cherry lights, the whole nine yards. We can't call the police."

"I think his commanding officer might like to know---"

"No! They all stick together, you know that! And who's gonna listen to me? I'm not an upstanding citizen, as far as the police are concerned. That bastard knew all about my record, you know."

"Alan, you wouldn't even have a record if you hadn't had to take a fall for Tyrone. I still don't understand why you did that."

"Yes you do, and you know there was no way around it. Tyrone would have gone to jail, and his old man would've been pissed at me, and I think HE'S even more scary than the crazy cop."

"Yes, but it left you with a criminal record that you don't deserve. It's... it's so unfair."

"Yeah, I know. Life is shitty sometimes." A wave of weakness swept over him, reminding him of how much pain he was in. The visit from the cop had totally overwhelmed the pain-blocking effects of the drugs the hospital had sent him home with. "Gram, I need my meds."

"Oh, let me get them for you. Sit. Sit down there. I'll be right back." She and her walker thumped slowly down the hall to the bathroom.

When she returned with the bottle of pain pills, Alan swallowed two of them with a gulp of water from a bottle he kept by his bed.

"Are you sure you won't reconsider calling 911?"

"Gram, no." Alan sighed and closed his eyes. They ain't gonna believe us. No witnesses, no evidence. We're not their favorite color, either. Pretty well every time someone gets shot by a cop in this city, it's a black man.You know that as well as I do. Better, in fact." He reached out with a shaky hand and patted her arm.

"Oh Alan, don't remind me about Bobby. Your poor mama. Oh dear." She leaned heavily on her walker, trying not to cry.

"There's nothing we can do, Gram. We gotta let it go."

"Maybe we could write an anonymous letter," suggested Mrs. Price hopefully. "Or get ourselves a good lawyer. It just doesn't sit right with me, you being victimized in this way."

"We ain't got money for a lawyer, and a letter would just bring the trouble right back here on the double. Besides, we don't even know that bastard's name. He never gave me any information at all. I don't even know what precinct he's from."

"Oh but, dear, he gave me his card." Mrs. Price wiped a tear from her eye and fumbled about in the pocket of her slacks. "I've got it right here."

"He gave you his card?" Alan stared at her incredulously. The guy was obviously pretty damn sure of his untouchability if he calmly handed out his card before terrorizing his victims.

Mrs. Price found the card and handed it to Alan, who took it eagerly. Finally, he was going to be able to put a name to the man who had brutalized him. He wasn't about to tell his grandmother, but he hadn't given up on the idea of retaliation, not by a long shot. He didn't know how or when, but he was going to find a way to take this psycho cop down. Asking Tyrone for help was one possible option, but he didn't know if he would ever be ready to take that step. He felt safer having Tyrone in his debt, and he wasn't in a big hurry to dispense with that particular safety net.

He read the name on the card, quietly memorizing the information. Detective Randy MacLean of the 27th. He would remember that name. He didn't think he had ever hated anyone more in his life.

I'll make sure that you pay for this, Detective MacLean, he thought to himself. One way or another, you corrupt son of a bitch.

end of chapter 4

Additional author's notes: I'm not going to specify a time for the next post because I have to work the next few weekends at my second job. However, you can rest assured that I'll write as much as I can in fifteen-minute bursts!

Thanks for reading.  Feedback is always appreciated.
Tags: a new day, fake

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