Ryo/Koyama
Sep. 25th, 2010 11:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snoozing_kittenTitle: Blind Justice
Pairing/Group: Ryo/Koyama
Rating/Warnings: NC-17; public sex, slight bdsm,
Word Count: 7,489
Summary: His world was Morse code in the ridges of fingerprints and Rorschach tests in blood splatter. His true love, written into the very code of his DNA. The story of a murder; a detective and a CSI and a whole lot of sex.
Notes: Originally written for FQF 2010 I had a great lot of fun writing this. I like flaunting my knowledge of forensics about.
“Walk me through it,” Ryo hummed, surveying the small clearing. In the fading light he looked tired, the purple bruises under his eyes more pronounced like some racoon-hybrid.
Koyama ran his hands through his carefully styled hair, disturbing it. He was still in his suit and dress shoes from a court appearance earlier in the day, with his snappy shoes and wire glasses sitting delicately on his nose. They made him look smart, gave him that added little bit of confidence from the jury to go on top of his stunning good looks. They also went well with the suit and tie look which he was rocking that particular Tuesday evening.
The crime scene was familiar; two days ago, a jogger found the body and called it in and he’d been called out of bed. Ryo probably had about five hours of sleep and too much coffee since then. Koyama had helped process it himself, Ryo had just come on from vacation fresh and rested looking. Now he looked like a detective again, all tired and desperate. It was probably wrong that he looked more right, more familiar.
“According to rigor, the body had been here for less then eight to twelve hours. Making the T.O.D. sometime between eleven and one A.M.,” Koyama began, careful not to step in mud as he walked forward, cutting a wide arc around the edges of the scene. There was a red stain in the grass where the body had been found, the rain having not washed it away yet, thunderstorms tomorrow. “Massive amount of blood-loss and trauma caused by multiple stab wounds to the chest, arms, and face are the probable cause of death.”
“Twelve,” Ryo injected and Koyama bobbed his head. Twelve sounded about right; there had been blood all over the victim, soaking into the ground around him. The human body can hold up to three litres of blood and most of it had soaked into the ground around him from lacerated organs.
“Defensive wounds on the arms indicate the victim-- Ken Matsumoto-- was alive and fighting back when the stabbing occurred.” Koyama moved in a slow circle, prowling around the small clearing, eyes narrowed. Far away, imagining the scene as it was that morning with police crawling around and neon yellow tags showing points of interest. It had smelled like dawn with dew and the copper tang of blood and almost sweet smell of meat already going rancid.
“Timeline, Kei,” Ryo said. The first stars of the evening were coming out and there were no overhead lights in the field, just them. Koyama paused and looked at him sharply. This wasn’t his job, but when Ryo called, well... When Ryo called, Koyama jumped. Couldn’t help the desperate way he wanted to be everything Ryo needed.
“Two sets of tire tracks coming in and leading out. The victim either came in with one party or drove in himself, but either way, there were two cars. One car had a wider wheel-base then the other. Probably an SUV or a sedan, the other a compact.” Koyama pointed to the area where the tire tracks had been found and photographed. “The number of different sized footprints and tread patterns indicates at least three people were present. There could have been more in the car, only three sets prints in the mud.”
Koyama could feel Ryo’s eyes on him and shifted on the balls of his feet; he didn’t let it distract him. A soft wind blew through the field and he imagined he could see shadowy people moving around. He’d mapped out all the footprints on his sketch of the area. The smaller Nike shoe in blue, the large loafer in red, and the large Nike in purple, outlining where each person had left full or at least partial prints. Matsumoto’s shoes matched Blue. There had been a lot of prints--enough to make your head spin round and round.
“Foot prints show that they walked around, and then Red and Purple got into a fight with Blue.” Koyama moved, pointing to the prints still faintly visible in the half-light. “The ground is all churned up here; it is hard to tell what happened. More fighting, I suppose.” He hummed low in his throat. An argument, maybe? Twelve stab wounds over something petty probably. The motivation was a mystery to him, but the evidence never lied.
“Then?”
“Then Blue went down and he didn’t get up again.” Koyama wandered into the heart of the crime scene, standing next to where the body was found. “The vic was found here in the morning.” Koyama gestured at the ground. “Foot prints indicate that the men went to different cars and drove away.”
Ryo nodded. Koyama could barely see the details of the other man’s face now that the light was failing, squinting with the effort.
“We have an A.P.B. out on the car registered to the victim. Nothing yet,” Ryo sighed.
Koyama returned to Ryo’s side, bumping his shoulder against the detective’s. “What’s up?” Ryo hardly ever called him out after work to spend time. They would get home at all hours of the night, spend time dreaming together and then it was go-time again. Ryo flitted in and out of his life like a confused butterfly and Koyama found that it suited him just fine. He liked being there for the other man.
“His wife is just a kid really, and she’s got a kid of her own now.” Ryo said it like it didn’t matter to him, another fact in another case. It is never easy when someone dies because even if your heart own doesn’t hurt for them, there was always someone else, someone who will be waiting for them to come home. It was those people who Ryo felt for, and it was written in his face and the way he spoke with families even when he wouldn’t admit it.
Sometimes Koyama had nightmares about Ryo’s partner, Shige, knocking on the door to tell him Ryo was found dead and if he could please grab his jacket, they need to process the scene already. The body was growing cold.
He was cut off by Ryo’s forehead butting his shoulder and the detective’s other arm coming around his waist and pulling him closer. “Don’t make that face.” Ryo’s voice was surprisingly soft.
“What face?”
Butterflies and Tigers flit through his mind, wing dust and huge paw prints, Ryo’s hand in his hair tilting his head for a hard kiss. Ryo kissed with the same determination and passion that he did everything else. All lips, tongue, heat, and the faintest press of teeth as Ryo tried to get closer to him, like he was trying to crawl inside Koyama’s skin through his mouth. He pulled Ryo closer using the grip he had on Ryo’s leather belt.
They were leaning over the hood of the car, Koyama’s hip pressed tightly against the cool metal, Ryo’s legs tangled with his, keeping him off balance. He moaned deep in his chest and Ryo ate it up, tongue sweeping through his mouth and making Koyama’s thoughts blur and fade. It was always like this when they kissed, like the end of the world. It had never been like this with anyone before Ryo, never so devastating.
Ryo pressed on his shoulders, pushing him away, and Koyama clung for a moment, refusing to budge. Taking Ryo’s bottom lip in his mouth even as the other man pulled away; leaving him leaning against the car, suddenly cold without him pressing too close into his space. He leaned back on the hood, his hips jutting out against the cotton of his trousers obviously, with the press of his dick through his briefs outlined in pinstripe.
He licked the traces of Ryo off his lips and stared at him.
“Hold that pose,” Ryo growled and Koyama smirked, leaning back a little more on his arms. The hood of the car was cold against his hands, probably a little dirty from a day of driving down leads and asking questions across the Tokyo district. He couldn’t see whatever Ryo was doing, just let himself go limp. It was too dark, night falling too fast for his eyes to keep up.
The dome lights in the car clicked on and flooded a small sphere of light around the cab and Koyama smiled, Ryo appearing like a shadow in his dark suit, slinking out of the shadows and up to him.
“Better?” Koyama asked, spreading his legs a little, knowing full well what he must look like. Just a little sluttish, more like desperate for Ryo’s hands back on him.
“Much.”
Koyama laughed, reaching for Ryo as he stepped up to him, eyes shadowed in the strange half-light cast by the car. Ryo bat his grasping hands away.
“Nope. Hands at your sides,” he said, voice low, and Koyama grinned. He barely saw it coming; Ryo’s reflexes were quick, a hand twisting in his thin purple tie and pulling him forward. It didn’t tighten, but the pressure on his neck made his legs crumple. He went willingly into Ryo’s grip, the other hand grabbing his chin and forcing him to tilt his head back. He couldn’t help the way his blood pounded and his cock throbbed as its blood pooled, his breath quickening. Well on his way to getting hard without a single touch.
Koyama moaned, Ryo’s fingertips tightening on his jaw briefly, stroking across his skin a moment later. Dominance and compassion. Koyama moaned, opening himself further for Ryo. Never one to decline an open invitation, Ryo pulled on his tie and if Koyama could have moved the way Ryo was pulling him, he would have.
The younger man pulled away with one last bite on Koyama’s lips, hard and stinging and just what Koyama wanted. His bottom lip throbbed in time with the rush of blood in his ears and Ryo took a step back, hand curled tight in his tie, regarding him down the make-shift leash. He licked red lips and Koyama might have whimpered a little at the sight.
“Knees.” Ryo tugged on his tie and Koyama dropped to his knees. He was keenly aware of the fact that they were parked in a public field, on the edge of a crime scene no less, but this place could use a little good karma. He tilted his head back a little, the solid pressure of his tie cutting into his neck and he looked up through the shadows up to Ryo, who was watching him with a sharp smile. “Good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ryo pet his free hand through Koyama’s hair, mussing the style up even further. “Real pretty.” Ryo used one finger to push Koyama’s glasses back into place, as they had been slipping down his nose.
This was comfort, and this was real closeness. He opened his mouth, sitting, barely repressed want as Ryo undid his belt and pulled down the zipper on his slacks. It took all his will not to squirm, mouth beginning to water in anticipation of the taste and texture as Ryo pulled down his briefs; he was obviously just as eager as Koyama was. His cock was mostly hard and right in Koyama’s face, sight and smell, and Koyama leaned forward just a little so he could breathe on the head. Ryo made a soft sound of amusement.
“Want it?” Like that wasn’t obvious. The grip in his tie tightened, the purple silk wrapped around Ryo’s knuckles, his other hand in Koyama’s hair. With no control, Koyama could only let his mouth go slack and blink up at Ryo through his glasses. Waiting.
“Please?” Koyama smiled, knowing full well what kind of power he had over Ryo in return. Far from helpless.
In return he got a mouth full of cock. It slid along his tongue and across his lips and Koyama moaned in response. The tie jerked and he shut his eyes, pleasure shooting through him, completely unrelated to the heel of his hand that he pressed against the line of his dick in his slacks.
“Hands on my legs,” Ryo growled, and if Koyama could have smiled he would have. Ryo knew him too well. He grabbed Ryo’s slacks, ignoring the heat of arousal fizzling through him to focus on Ryo.
“Good.” Ryo ran his hands through his hair to rub behind his ear, following the sharp line of his jaw to his hollowed cheek.
His mouth was stretched, Ryo pressing deeper with every faint jerk of his hips and tugs on his tie for harder and deeper. He couldn’t use his tongue or really do anything but try and suck and let Ryo rock into his mouth. His back was to the car, trapped completely.
He hummed low in his chest and Ryo jerked, almost gagging him as the blunt head slipped against his throat. He could barely breathe until Ryo relented--not the grip on his tie, but at least how deep he was. Koyama tried to follow it, but his tie held him back.
“Not too bad?” He couldn’t respond--can’t talk with your mouth full--so he tapped Ryo’s leg once. One for yes and two for no if Koyama was unable to speak. “That’s good. Can you take more?” One tap. He blinked at Ryo through his hair, and the other man smiled thinly. “Great.”
His head was pressed back against the car, Ryo brushing the hair away from his face almost tenderly, while Koyama flicked his tongue in kittenish flicks along the head of his dick. He let the faintest scrape of teeth and Ryo jerked the tight grip on his tie in warning to go along with a soft growl. Koyama tried to smile; it didn’t work out so well and Ryo scoffed.
“Shh, just take it,” Ryo cooed.
Ryo was rocking against his face, gentle pressure and Koyama opened up, trusting Ryo not to strangle him. Not able to touch, not able to speak, it always brought him down and put him in a strange place, erased all the facts and theories that zipped through his head and just let him feel. The fain ache of his jaw from being forced open, the pressure of his tie around his neck, and the slightly damp feeling of dirt and too-long grass on the knees of his slacks.
Too much; his jaw hurt and his throat was getting sore from the abuse. Not enough; sensation spiralling through him, the fizz of sex in his head and the sensation like he was about to explode but it just keeps going higher instead.
“Keep your mouth open,” Ryo hissed, his voice strained and scratchy with arousal. It wasn’t like he could do anything else, opening his eyes and blinking through the darkness up the line of Ryo’s body, all white starchy shirt and a flushed face. He opened his mouth and waited, could see movement and the slick sound of Ryo’s fist moving over saliva wet skin. He didn’t have to wait long, closed his eyes just in case. Ryo made a soft sound and the first streaks of warmth hit his tongue. A taste like salt and musk; he wanted to close his mouth and let it roll across his palate like fine wine, but patiently waited. More heat along his tongue, hitting his lips and running down his chin, already a mess of spit. When it seemed like there was no more he licked his lips, chasing what he could with his tongue and smacking his lips.
His tie went slack and Ryo used one finger to mop up the mess on his chin and push it into his mouth.
“Clean me off?” Posed like a question but not really. Koyama licked the wet head of his dick delicately cleaning away all of Ryo’s mess. It wasn’t so much the taste as the meaning that he adored, the closeness.
Leaning back against the car, his lips were sore, his jaw was sore--even his knees were sore from kneeling--he was hard. He stared up at Ryo in the faint light and the other man pet through his hair with a soft, almost hazy smile on his face; Koyama made a soft, happy sound.
“Come on. I’ll drop you off at home.” His clothes were wrinkled and he was hard, underwear uncomfortably damp and the knees of his pants were stuck to his knees with dirt and moisture from the ground. There was probably drying cum and spit on his chin; he smiled up at Ryo, fuzzy and happy. Ryo helped him stand on unsteady legs; his feet had fallen asleep on him.
Ryo manhandled him into the car and flicked off the dome light as he circled the police vehicle and slid into the driver’s side. Koyama melted against the seat, leaving his hair and clothing a mess. He must have looked as freshly fucked as he felt.
The car purred to life. This was Ryo’s car with an eight cylinder every bit as aggressive and noisy as Ryo could be. The police radio cackled, a faint tinny voice spilling from the scanner. Koyama sank into his seat, shifting and spreading his legs to ease the pinch of his pants. He watched the way Ryo sat down and adjusted himself. He seemed content. Koyama smiled lazily, basking in the endorphins and the buzz of prolonged arousal.
“Tell me, do you want to wait until you get home? Or do you think you can do it quietly in the car?”
Ryo threw the car into reverse and Koyama smirked at him. Oh, he could do it. He shifted in his seat until he could undo his thin belt. Ryo smiled at him, looking both ways before turning onto the quiet residential street. It didn’t take long for Koyama to tug his underwear out of the way and pull his dick out. Conscious of the fact that he was essentially in a glass box with Tokyo Police emblazoned on the back.
“You gonna do it?” Ryo’s grin was sharp, daring. Koyama shifted, getting his grip. He ran the tips of his fingers up the side and it sent tingly little bursts of pleasure through him, like the flutter of butterfly wings.
“Yeah.” He stared at the sharp profile of his face in the yellowed light of the street lamps, Ryo’s thin nose and lips and chin, all razor edges. You could cut yourself on them if you were not careful.
They were driving across the city towards Koyama’s apartment, going to cut through downtown on the highway. In the middle of the night, traffic was sparse, but not non-existent. Long slow pulls on his dick, base to tip, nothing to slick the way and too much friction. He couldn’t fuck his fist the way his body demanded, had to settle for the slow build; each touch was that much closer. He’d been keyed up already, all shaken up and ready to pop.
Right on the edge.
“Hold on,” Ryo growled, slipping his hand from the gear-shift to Koyama’s thigh, squeezing the muscle there.
“Please,” Koyama groaned, the head leaking softly and slicking the way a little, making the glide easier. He would only need a slightly harder touch to send him flying into orgasm. He just needed for Ryo to say the word.
They pulled off the highway and into one of the major streets that they would need to follow to get to his apartment. On the highway they had been zipping past cars and Koyama had felt safe, but now they rolled to a stop next to another car waiting at the intersection. Koyama’s mind was so fuzzed he couldn’t even focus on the colour or make of the car nor the people in it. He could only feel the all-encompassing burn of the need to come. He was going to explode. He mind failed, whirled and clicked and just desperately wanted to come.
“Now,” Ryo growled.
Koyama’s hips pressed upwards and he leaned back against the seat, making an aborted keening sound as it slammed through him like lightening, body trying to tighten up as he tried to keep himself loose. His eyes fluttered closed as he pulsed sticky into his cupped palm.
It left him feeling drained and weak, staring blankly at the windshield as the light changed and Ryo stepped on the acceleration too hard and they jerked forward. Koyama grinned, using his free hand to dig through the glove compartment for a wad of tissues from the last fast food place Ryo hit up. He wasn’t disappointed when he found a pile of yellow McDs napkins and used them to clean his hand, though it did nothing for the smell of musk and sex in the car.
“God, you’re good.” Ryo pet his thigh and Koyama melted back against the seat.
The rest of the drive Ryo rolled the windows down and Koyama tried not to fall asleep as the warm wind played with his hair; he was in a pleasant place. He woke up to Ryo tugging on his hair, leaning over the seat divide and pressing into his personal space. It was enough like waking up curled in sweat soaked sheets that he couldn’t help but smile.
“Morning already?” He asked, practically sharing Ryo’s air. “I don’t want to wake up.”
“Stupid,” Ryo laughed. “Go to bed. I need to work; I’ll be back ... whenever.” Ryo smiled wryly and Koyama kissed the tip of his nose.
“Then I’ll see you whenever.”
~~
Koyama was processing some fingerprints found on a jar full of baggies of weed when his phone rang. Stretching out his back, he put the magnifying scope down and leaned across his desk for the phone.
“Hello, Crime Scene Unit. Koyama Keiichiro speaking.”
“Can you come and process a car on the spot or do you want it towed back to the garage? It is in relation to the homicide from the other night.” Ryo’s case.
Koyama smiled to himself. “I’ll be out in a bit.”
Koyama grabbed his ‘Forensics’ jacket and logged the evidence back into the records room and was off in a show of blatant favouritism. Coffee and doughnuts was so stereotypical, but Koyama liked doughnuts and coffee was more of a comfort food then anything to really keep him awake, so he stopped anyways. What was wrong with a little icing sugar powder stereotypical? Nothing.
He arrived at the scene just as Ryo’s car was pulling in. Shige was talking on his mobile in the passenger’s seat and Ryo saw Koyama and smiled. A wolf’s smile.
“Hey,” Koyama nodded to them both, pulling his kit out of the trunk of the black SUV he drove. Junno would meet him here later; Koyama was just here to look at it and prep it for transport.
“If you could come down to the station that would be a big help, ma’am.” Shige was propped against the hood as he spoke into the phone, in pretty much the same place that Koyama had been last night, and he felt a spike of heat go through him. From the look Ryo was giving him, he knew exactly what dirty thoughts were on his mind. Couldn’t help but remember that time Ryo mentioned that Shige would look great kneeling, too. “Thank you for your cooperation. Yes, goodbye.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Ryo imitated Shige’s voice and the other man scowled, running his hands through messy black hair. The two of them had probably worked the night through and it was mid-morning now.
“Fuck you too, Nishikido.”
“Play nice, kids,” Koyama laughed. “What do we have here?”
“Parking cop called it in. It is the vic from the other night’s missing car. We were waiting for you,” Ryo said smoothly like Shige had been the one to start it all along. Koyama was mildly surprised that Shige hadn’t resorted to pulling his gun on the other detective yet. “You processed the body. So far, we have a witness who gave us the names of two men she saw with the victim. We’ve pulled photos and she’s going to come in and ID them. If she picks them out we can bring them in for questioning.”
“If you could link them to the car, that would be great,” Shige said, pointing to the red boxy car haphazardly parked in a no-parking zone.
“I will collect what I can,” Koyama smiled. He circled the car a few times. Nothing stood out so he approved it to be towed into the garage. Watching as Ryo ran his hands through his hair in a tired gesture and Shige shoved his shoulders; ‘stay awake cowboy, we’re on the right track.’
~~
He was bent over, half inside the passenger seat of the car and dusting for more prints. The garage was mostly empty, some mindless pop playing on the radio in the other corner, teasing just the edges of his ears.
“Good view.” Ryo’s voice cut through the silence and Koyama shivered, backing out of the car and pulling the mask over his mouth to hang around his neck, giving the other man a look. “Can’t say the cover-alls are doing a lot for your figure.”
Ryo, on the other hand, looked dangerous in his black suit, barely showing the fact that he had probably worn it for the past 24 hours. At some point he had switched his shirt out for a pale blue one that did wonders for his tanned skin and black hair.
“Looking pretty good from where I am standing too.” He briefly imagined using the powder blackened tips of his fingers to trace the curves of Ryo’s face. It would leave a sooty trail, could leave marks on Ryo’s skin like bruises. Write his name on his chest, his hips, and all those place that other people looked at too often when Ryo strode into the room, all power and feline grace. Write his name where Shige could see it so he would know that, without a doubt, as sweet at Koyama was, this was his. He smiled. “How is the case going?”
“It’s getting hot,” Ryo smirked, all the glee of a child mixed with the determination of a predator. “We’ve got one of them in interrogation with Kato right now. He’s not breaking yet.”
“Would some fingerprints help?” Koyama smirked.
“Fingerprints always help.” Ryo reached into his jacket pocket and produced a sheet. “I even had Junno pull his ten card from a prior.”
“If I find anything, you will be the first to know.” Ryo left it on the desk, turned like he wanted to say something but stopped himself as someone clattered into the garage loudly.
Then Ryo was gone like he’d never been there, which was so characteristic of their relationship. Koyama was used to it by now. He knew why the older detectives were all divorced; what woman could handle this? For the most part Koyama knew that Ryo was his. After all, he was always a good boy for Ryo. Koyama was hot and they sparked off each other explosively. What more could he want?
Still, counting minutes, Ryo spent every bit as much time with him as he did Shige, and if he squinted and tilted his head a little he could see them together. Shige’s unsure straight boy hands running over Ryo’s chest, touching his shoulders like he’d never touched another person before.
“Hey. Do you want me to process this side?” Junno was in his space all of a sudden and Koyama jumped, breath caught in his throat for a moment. The tall man was a damn ninja. “Spooked ya.” Junno grinned, amused.
“Yeah.”
“Do I detect that there is something wrong?” Junno’s voice was muffled by the face mask but his eyes were twinkling. Koyama grinned at him, shaking his head before pulling his own face mask back on.
“Not now.” He took off his old gloves and switched them out for a new pair. “We have a car to process.”
They were both half in the hot, smelly car, Junno’s blond hair clipped out of his face when he spoke next.
“You know he loves you.” Junno was partially under the steering wheel and Koyama looked down at him; he was sort of kneeling on the passenger seat and trying not to get powder in Junno’s hair as he processed the rear view mirror. “The evidence never lies.”
“You’re such a dork,” Koyama laughed. “Speaking of, I think I found something.”
They lifted all the prints they could find and some garbage and napkins--the usual car floor junk.
They brought the ten card and all the prints upstairs with them for a quick look. There were a lot of exemplars to compare. No one was in the forensics unit bullpen; everyone out on various calls. His and Junno’s desks were in a corner near a window and he pulled out his chair. The other man’s desk was littered with photos of his friends, while Koyama’s was mostly his cat. It would be a little inappropriate to have photos of him and Ryo up everywhere, after all.
He felt a slight twang of something unfamiliar, like anger pulling at his heart strings, unable to make a formal claim on the other man. He really only needed to remember the ache in his jaw to know that, figuratively, Ryo’s name was written all over his skin. Invisible lip prints on his legs, arms, eyelids, and all those places Ryo liked to worship. Scent marking the way his cat did.
You could use lip prints to make a conclusive match. The thought made him feel better. After all, Junno was right; people lied, but the evidence didn’t.
“Can you look at this?” Junno passed him a card that had a print lifted off of a can of soda found in the back seat of the car.
He carefully mapped out different points. They would need to pass it off to another examiner for an official match, but that was good enough for a preliminary.
“Awesome,” Koyama grinned and passed the card back.
“You go deliver the news. Maybe get a few favours out of him first.” Junno winked at him and Koyama scrunched up his nose in return and flicked a rubber band at the other man’s face. It missed.
He took the stairs down to homicide but Ryo wasn’t at his desk. He poked Masuda until the other man swatted at him with a scowl and told him that they were in interrogation. He then straightened the folders Koyama had pushed out of place with a bitchy look, his phone cradled between his cheek and his shoulder.
He found Ryo lounging in the room, watching the television feed from the interrogation room where Shige was with the suspect. Yamashita was there too, watching. Koyama tossed them smiles.
“Do you have some good news for me?” Ryo perked up like a dog after a bone, relentless.
“I do. Unofficially speaking”--YamaPi, the boss around here, grinned at him--“your suspects prints cannot be excluded as the source of some prints found on a coke can in the car.”
Ryo’s grin was two parts viciousness and one part victory.
“Got you,” Ryo snarled, stalking towards interrogation like a predator; a black shadow in a suit and eyes that could cut. Koyama shivered thinking about it; Ryo had once interrogated him, had him kneel on the floor and prowled around him asking him questions. He pulled Koyama’s hair, making his neck arch back when he wouldn’t answer. He asked over and over until Koyama cracked just the way he’d known he would.
‘I want you to make me take it, Koyama finally broke down, a sob catching in his throat, ’I want you to pull your gun on me, hold it to my head and make me blow you.’
Koyama never doubted Ryo’s interrogation technique.
“You okay?” YamaPi was looking at him oddly.
“Yeah, zoned out. Sorry.” Koyama smiled and turned away just as Ryo slinked into the interrogation room on the television, flashing Shige a ‘cat-got-the-cream’ smirk. “Long night.”
YamaPi leered at him. “I bet.”
~~
Koyama was curled on the bed with a book when Ryo came home, a flurry of sound and motion from the outside world that startled Nyanta into sitting up and staring at the open door with wide eyes.
“I’m home,” Ryo called.
“Welcome back,” Koyama said sweetly. There was a lot of banging around in the kitchen that had Nyanta perking up and leaping off the bed and darting into the kitchen in hopes of the detective feeding him. Koyama also uncurled himself from his spot on the bed and padded into the kitchen, finding Ryo digging into a bowl of left-over dinner. He looked pleased, meaning he had closed the case and ended his double shift. It was different from the antsy, barely contained energy from when he came home in the middle a case for a nap. “Confession?”
“Two,” Ryo grinned around his spoon, words muffled by the food he was chewing. Koyama draped himself across the other man’s shoulders and pressed his cheek to soft black hair.
“What happened?”
“Honda flipped when we cornered him with evidence that he’d been in the vic’s car. His story before was that he didn’t even know him. He gave up his partner pretty easy after that.” Ryo finished the bowl and moved to rinse it off before putting it in the sink.
“Did he say why?” Another dead, and usually over such senseless things. The world was a crazy place; Ryo made sense of it, one piece at a time.
“Drug deal. They didn’t want to pay, claim they didn’t mean to kill him, but he wouldn’t give up the loot.” Now there was a kid without a dad and a young mom who needed to deal with things all on her own.
“The world sucks,” Koyama whined softly, rubbing his cheek against the other man’s head.
“Yeah.” Ryo tilted his head back and pressed his lips against Koyama’s cheek. “But that’s my job.”
You make it better.
Ryo was exhausted, that much was clear, and a little rank from spending a full day in the same suit. Koyama couldn’t care less. He lead Ryo back to the bedroom where his book was still lying face down on the bed. Peeled the stale dress-shirt from him, pressing a small chaste kiss against Ryo’s lips with every small button he slipped through its eye. The shirt from his shoulders, still tucked into his pants and catching his elbows.
Ryo growled at him and Koyama just gave him a flirty smile. He leaned in to press his face against Ryo’s shoulder, kissing his neck as he toyed with the belt buckle, tugging on it and releasing it.
“Koyama,” Ryo hissed against his hair, pulling on the light constraints of his dress shirt.
“Hm?” Koyama grinned, biting softly on the skin of the other man’s neck. He tasted old, like sweat and the chemical tang of the other man’s cologne. Tugging on his belt again he flicked the slim leather through the loops and tossed it on the floor. The metal buckle landed with a soft sound on the thin carpeting of Koyama’s bedroom.
The zipper was next, the folds of Ryo’s dress pants clinging to narrow hips over his briefs. Koyama licked the patch of skin he found, running his nails across Ryo’s flat tummy and listening to soft, muted sound Ryo made in his chest. Ryo wiggled out of his shirt and grabbed the hem of Koyama’s t-shirt and tugged it until Koyama gave in and lifted his arms up so it could come off.
Ryo shoved his shoulder hard and Koyama fell into the bed with a laugh, the sheets cool against his naked back. He wiggled out of his underwear while Ryo stripped off his undershirt and kicked off his loose pants.
Koyama spread himself across the bed, knowing full well how long and slim his arms and legs were and the effect it had on Ryo. That the other man liked it when he offered himself up like that. The detective stared at him, banked hunger that made his eyes seem endlessly black.
“Hands and knees,” Ryo said, voice soft and sharp and this time. This wasn’t about comfort or anything like that; it was about hunger and lust and all the things that burned between them too hot and bright to be talked about unless they were right there. “God you look so pretty like that.” Ryo’s voice rumbled through the room and Koyama’s breathing hitched when soft lips touched the subtle curve of his spine, hot breath making his skin tingle.
“Yeah?”
“It really is the best angle for you.” Hands on his ass, fingertips digging into the sparse flesh and cupping the sharp, boney curve. “Hot and eager for me.” A faint pressure swiping over his hole and Koyama broke out in gooseflesh, arching back against it. “Just like that.” Koyama had his eyes closed and Ryo’s voice seemed sharper, clearer that way; he could pick out the slightly awed tone he took.
“Ryo.” He pushed back against the hands and lips on him, smacking kisses pressed into the curve of his ass, the faintest scrape of teeth.
“Shhh, baby.” Ryo ran his hands down the outside of Koyama’s thighs. “Hold still.”
Koyama managed to bite down on his shifting, spreading his knees for better balance. Letting his face fall against his arm so he could press his ass higher, wordlessly begging.
“That’s a good boy.” In reward he got fingers gliding down his spine from the nape of his neck all the way down the very top of his cheeks. “Now hold it.”
“Okay.” Knowing what was coming didn’t make it any less shocking, a hot wet stripe that he could feel all over his body at once. He jerked faintly against the sensation and fingertips dug into his hips, holding him steady.
It wound him up tight and hot, right in the center, his chest getting tight in time with his dick. Ryo’s teasing tongue, wet and so hot, just barely stretching him open. Less piercing pleasure and more like wet suction with the barest hint of teeth that had him moaning loudly, barely resisting the urge to press closer. Long broad licks, soft kittenish flicks of his tongue, and all of it was burning him from the inside out, a super nova in his stomach.
Something thicker, firmer, pressed against him, a maddening push and a slight jolt as it slipped inside. One of Ryo’s fingers slick with saliva, not quite slippery enough to remove the sting of friction, but all the better for it. Finger and tongue taking him apart bit by bit. One finger became two, and the tongue hadn’t let up, pressing inside him with the fingers, then licking around the sensitive rim where he was stretched and open.
“Please, oh please please.” Koyama’s voice cracked when Ryo’s fingers hooked and pushed and he was unable to stop the faint jerks of his hips away from the pressure and back into it.
“Hold still.” A stinging pinch to his thigh and Koyama groaned, the sensation flashing through him like lightening. Not pain but something better. He desperately wanted to fuck himself back on those fingers, feel them stretch deep inside, not quite but almost the same as taking a cock. Still, Ryo told him to so he held back.
“Please,” he whined.
“Soon.” A soft bite to the skin on his ass and Koyama groaned.
“Ryo.” He could beg so as long as he didn’t move. “I want it, just fuck me already. I’ve been good.” The last part was more of a whine.
“You have,” Ryo growled, biting down harder on his skin and Koyama squeaked. Couldn’t help the shudder that ripped through him when Ryo busied himself sucking a hickey into the thin pale skin on his upper thigh. “I could get your dildo out, fuck you with it first.”
“No,” Koyama hissed. “Later, whatever. Just fuck me.”
Ryo laughed, delighted. “Your wish, my command.”
Hands on his hips and finally, finally, Koyama felt the thick head of Ryo’s dick pressing against him, barely stretching. He made a frustrated sound and barely managed not to press back; Ryo made a pleased hum. There was actually part of him that wanted to beam with pride but most of him was wrapped up with the burn and stretch of Ryo rocking inside of him in jerky thrusts.
The sheets muffled the sounds he made, crumpled against the bed with his ass lifted as high as he could. Ryo’s hands were on his hip, using the grip on the bony parts of his hips to pull him back into the sharp thrust. The friction and stimulation at this angle were overwhelming. He dipped his spine, gripping the sheets and whining because it was constant and too much and not enough to have him coming. Arms trapped where he couldn’t use them, his cock heavy between his legs, begging to be touched.
Ryo rode him hard and fast and just the way he wanted it. Koyama’s breathing caught in his chest, pressing his face into the bedding as it washed through him, making his toes curl into the bed and his skin tingle. Ryo grabbed his hips and pulled him back into the cradle of his hips.
He moaned, jerking against Koyama, hands tightening and nails pressing into his hips; tiny bright points of pain. It would have been better and worse if he could see it, face pressed into the bedding as Ryo came apart above him. Ryo’s skin was hot in all the places they were pressed together, along the backs of his thighs and the hands against the small of his back.
Koyama shifted under the faint press of the other man’s body, the angle all wrong for getting his hand on his dick.
“Roll over.” Ryo’s lips were pressed against his shoulder blade, and the other man bent over him to press a kiss there before pulling away entirely. He felt sore, stretched, wet and probably a little open, lying on his back with his legs spread, and hard. Ryo grinned at him, flushed from his own orgasm and pretty. Koyama licked his lips, didn’t really care how dirty it was; he wanted to lick the faint trail of come on the head there.
Ryo was climbing between his legs, running hands along the smooth lines of Koyama’s legs, pressing in closer and using his shoulders to force Koyama to bend more and accommodate him. The faint pull of his hips was nothing because Ryo didn’t waste any time in taking his cock in his mouth and sucking hard. It felt like Ryo was trying suck his spinal column out through his dick and Koyama was nearly sure that he really could do it, because he’d been hard and on edge before and he was so way beyond anything that all that could remain was impossible. A finger pressed inside of him, rubbing and moving and Koyama squeaked, his voice stuttering in his chest.
Koyama came so hard and so fast that he saw stars from how hard he pressed his eyes together, back curling as it tore through him. Ryo kept gentle pressure through it, petting his hips and thighs to help him come down.
They both lay there, dazed and half asleep, hands roaming and petting without intent or purpose. The way nights should be spent when they weren’t out being the spear and shield of justice and all that jazz.
“It’s crazy, you know,” Koyama sighed, kissing Ryo slow and lazy, tasting salt and musk, nicotine and coffee and too many late nights. He wanted to say ‘how everything you do means so much to me.’ But it wouldn’t come out right, not without sounding too mushy, or just too much. Impossible to vocalize.
“Hey, babe.” Ryo looked at him, looking all too serious for a moment, wild hair and dark shadows under his eyes. The not-so-caped crusader that made the streets safe at night. “I do know.”
Pairing/Group: Ryo/Koyama
Rating/Warnings: NC-17; public sex, slight bdsm,
Word Count: 7,489
Summary: His world was Morse code in the ridges of fingerprints and Rorschach tests in blood splatter. His true love, written into the very code of his DNA. The story of a murder; a detective and a CSI and a whole lot of sex.
Notes: Originally written for FQF 2010 I had a great lot of fun writing this. I like flaunting my knowledge of forensics about.
“Walk me through it,” Ryo hummed, surveying the small clearing. In the fading light he looked tired, the purple bruises under his eyes more pronounced like some racoon-hybrid.
Koyama ran his hands through his carefully styled hair, disturbing it. He was still in his suit and dress shoes from a court appearance earlier in the day, with his snappy shoes and wire glasses sitting delicately on his nose. They made him look smart, gave him that added little bit of confidence from the jury to go on top of his stunning good looks. They also went well with the suit and tie look which he was rocking that particular Tuesday evening.
The crime scene was familiar; two days ago, a jogger found the body and called it in and he’d been called out of bed. Ryo probably had about five hours of sleep and too much coffee since then. Koyama had helped process it himself, Ryo had just come on from vacation fresh and rested looking. Now he looked like a detective again, all tired and desperate. It was probably wrong that he looked more right, more familiar.
“According to rigor, the body had been here for less then eight to twelve hours. Making the T.O.D. sometime between eleven and one A.M.,” Koyama began, careful not to step in mud as he walked forward, cutting a wide arc around the edges of the scene. There was a red stain in the grass where the body had been found, the rain having not washed it away yet, thunderstorms tomorrow. “Massive amount of blood-loss and trauma caused by multiple stab wounds to the chest, arms, and face are the probable cause of death.”
“Twelve,” Ryo injected and Koyama bobbed his head. Twelve sounded about right; there had been blood all over the victim, soaking into the ground around him. The human body can hold up to three litres of blood and most of it had soaked into the ground around him from lacerated organs.
“Defensive wounds on the arms indicate the victim-- Ken Matsumoto-- was alive and fighting back when the stabbing occurred.” Koyama moved in a slow circle, prowling around the small clearing, eyes narrowed. Far away, imagining the scene as it was that morning with police crawling around and neon yellow tags showing points of interest. It had smelled like dawn with dew and the copper tang of blood and almost sweet smell of meat already going rancid.
“Timeline, Kei,” Ryo said. The first stars of the evening were coming out and there were no overhead lights in the field, just them. Koyama paused and looked at him sharply. This wasn’t his job, but when Ryo called, well... When Ryo called, Koyama jumped. Couldn’t help the desperate way he wanted to be everything Ryo needed.
“Two sets of tire tracks coming in and leading out. The victim either came in with one party or drove in himself, but either way, there were two cars. One car had a wider wheel-base then the other. Probably an SUV or a sedan, the other a compact.” Koyama pointed to the area where the tire tracks had been found and photographed. “The number of different sized footprints and tread patterns indicates at least three people were present. There could have been more in the car, only three sets prints in the mud.”
Koyama could feel Ryo’s eyes on him and shifted on the balls of his feet; he didn’t let it distract him. A soft wind blew through the field and he imagined he could see shadowy people moving around. He’d mapped out all the footprints on his sketch of the area. The smaller Nike shoe in blue, the large loafer in red, and the large Nike in purple, outlining where each person had left full or at least partial prints. Matsumoto’s shoes matched Blue. There had been a lot of prints--enough to make your head spin round and round.
“Foot prints show that they walked around, and then Red and Purple got into a fight with Blue.” Koyama moved, pointing to the prints still faintly visible in the half-light. “The ground is all churned up here; it is hard to tell what happened. More fighting, I suppose.” He hummed low in his throat. An argument, maybe? Twelve stab wounds over something petty probably. The motivation was a mystery to him, but the evidence never lied.
“Then?”
“Then Blue went down and he didn’t get up again.” Koyama wandered into the heart of the crime scene, standing next to where the body was found. “The vic was found here in the morning.” Koyama gestured at the ground. “Foot prints indicate that the men went to different cars and drove away.”
Ryo nodded. Koyama could barely see the details of the other man’s face now that the light was failing, squinting with the effort.
“We have an A.P.B. out on the car registered to the victim. Nothing yet,” Ryo sighed.
Koyama returned to Ryo’s side, bumping his shoulder against the detective’s. “What’s up?” Ryo hardly ever called him out after work to spend time. They would get home at all hours of the night, spend time dreaming together and then it was go-time again. Ryo flitted in and out of his life like a confused butterfly and Koyama found that it suited him just fine. He liked being there for the other man.
“His wife is just a kid really, and she’s got a kid of her own now.” Ryo said it like it didn’t matter to him, another fact in another case. It is never easy when someone dies because even if your heart own doesn’t hurt for them, there was always someone else, someone who will be waiting for them to come home. It was those people who Ryo felt for, and it was written in his face and the way he spoke with families even when he wouldn’t admit it.
Sometimes Koyama had nightmares about Ryo’s partner, Shige, knocking on the door to tell him Ryo was found dead and if he could please grab his jacket, they need to process the scene already. The body was growing cold.
He was cut off by Ryo’s forehead butting his shoulder and the detective’s other arm coming around his waist and pulling him closer. “Don’t make that face.” Ryo’s voice was surprisingly soft.
“What face?”
Butterflies and Tigers flit through his mind, wing dust and huge paw prints, Ryo’s hand in his hair tilting his head for a hard kiss. Ryo kissed with the same determination and passion that he did everything else. All lips, tongue, heat, and the faintest press of teeth as Ryo tried to get closer to him, like he was trying to crawl inside Koyama’s skin through his mouth. He pulled Ryo closer using the grip he had on Ryo’s leather belt.
They were leaning over the hood of the car, Koyama’s hip pressed tightly against the cool metal, Ryo’s legs tangled with his, keeping him off balance. He moaned deep in his chest and Ryo ate it up, tongue sweeping through his mouth and making Koyama’s thoughts blur and fade. It was always like this when they kissed, like the end of the world. It had never been like this with anyone before Ryo, never so devastating.
Ryo pressed on his shoulders, pushing him away, and Koyama clung for a moment, refusing to budge. Taking Ryo’s bottom lip in his mouth even as the other man pulled away; leaving him leaning against the car, suddenly cold without him pressing too close into his space. He leaned back on the hood, his hips jutting out against the cotton of his trousers obviously, with the press of his dick through his briefs outlined in pinstripe.
He licked the traces of Ryo off his lips and stared at him.
“Hold that pose,” Ryo growled and Koyama smirked, leaning back a little more on his arms. The hood of the car was cold against his hands, probably a little dirty from a day of driving down leads and asking questions across the Tokyo district. He couldn’t see whatever Ryo was doing, just let himself go limp. It was too dark, night falling too fast for his eyes to keep up.
The dome lights in the car clicked on and flooded a small sphere of light around the cab and Koyama smiled, Ryo appearing like a shadow in his dark suit, slinking out of the shadows and up to him.
“Better?” Koyama asked, spreading his legs a little, knowing full well what he must look like. Just a little sluttish, more like desperate for Ryo’s hands back on him.
“Much.”
Koyama laughed, reaching for Ryo as he stepped up to him, eyes shadowed in the strange half-light cast by the car. Ryo bat his grasping hands away.
“Nope. Hands at your sides,” he said, voice low, and Koyama grinned. He barely saw it coming; Ryo’s reflexes were quick, a hand twisting in his thin purple tie and pulling him forward. It didn’t tighten, but the pressure on his neck made his legs crumple. He went willingly into Ryo’s grip, the other hand grabbing his chin and forcing him to tilt his head back. He couldn’t help the way his blood pounded and his cock throbbed as its blood pooled, his breath quickening. Well on his way to getting hard without a single touch.
Koyama moaned, Ryo’s fingertips tightening on his jaw briefly, stroking across his skin a moment later. Dominance and compassion. Koyama moaned, opening himself further for Ryo. Never one to decline an open invitation, Ryo pulled on his tie and if Koyama could have moved the way Ryo was pulling him, he would have.
The younger man pulled away with one last bite on Koyama’s lips, hard and stinging and just what Koyama wanted. His bottom lip throbbed in time with the rush of blood in his ears and Ryo took a step back, hand curled tight in his tie, regarding him down the make-shift leash. He licked red lips and Koyama might have whimpered a little at the sight.
“Knees.” Ryo tugged on his tie and Koyama dropped to his knees. He was keenly aware of the fact that they were parked in a public field, on the edge of a crime scene no less, but this place could use a little good karma. He tilted his head back a little, the solid pressure of his tie cutting into his neck and he looked up through the shadows up to Ryo, who was watching him with a sharp smile. “Good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ryo pet his free hand through Koyama’s hair, mussing the style up even further. “Real pretty.” Ryo used one finger to push Koyama’s glasses back into place, as they had been slipping down his nose.
This was comfort, and this was real closeness. He opened his mouth, sitting, barely repressed want as Ryo undid his belt and pulled down the zipper on his slacks. It took all his will not to squirm, mouth beginning to water in anticipation of the taste and texture as Ryo pulled down his briefs; he was obviously just as eager as Koyama was. His cock was mostly hard and right in Koyama’s face, sight and smell, and Koyama leaned forward just a little so he could breathe on the head. Ryo made a soft sound of amusement.
“Want it?” Like that wasn’t obvious. The grip in his tie tightened, the purple silk wrapped around Ryo’s knuckles, his other hand in Koyama’s hair. With no control, Koyama could only let his mouth go slack and blink up at Ryo through his glasses. Waiting.
“Please?” Koyama smiled, knowing full well what kind of power he had over Ryo in return. Far from helpless.
In return he got a mouth full of cock. It slid along his tongue and across his lips and Koyama moaned in response. The tie jerked and he shut his eyes, pleasure shooting through him, completely unrelated to the heel of his hand that he pressed against the line of his dick in his slacks.
“Hands on my legs,” Ryo growled, and if Koyama could have smiled he would have. Ryo knew him too well. He grabbed Ryo’s slacks, ignoring the heat of arousal fizzling through him to focus on Ryo.
“Good.” Ryo ran his hands through his hair to rub behind his ear, following the sharp line of his jaw to his hollowed cheek.
His mouth was stretched, Ryo pressing deeper with every faint jerk of his hips and tugs on his tie for harder and deeper. He couldn’t use his tongue or really do anything but try and suck and let Ryo rock into his mouth. His back was to the car, trapped completely.
He hummed low in his chest and Ryo jerked, almost gagging him as the blunt head slipped against his throat. He could barely breathe until Ryo relented--not the grip on his tie, but at least how deep he was. Koyama tried to follow it, but his tie held him back.
“Not too bad?” He couldn’t respond--can’t talk with your mouth full--so he tapped Ryo’s leg once. One for yes and two for no if Koyama was unable to speak. “That’s good. Can you take more?” One tap. He blinked at Ryo through his hair, and the other man smiled thinly. “Great.”
His head was pressed back against the car, Ryo brushing the hair away from his face almost tenderly, while Koyama flicked his tongue in kittenish flicks along the head of his dick. He let the faintest scrape of teeth and Ryo jerked the tight grip on his tie in warning to go along with a soft growl. Koyama tried to smile; it didn’t work out so well and Ryo scoffed.
“Shh, just take it,” Ryo cooed.
Ryo was rocking against his face, gentle pressure and Koyama opened up, trusting Ryo not to strangle him. Not able to touch, not able to speak, it always brought him down and put him in a strange place, erased all the facts and theories that zipped through his head and just let him feel. The fain ache of his jaw from being forced open, the pressure of his tie around his neck, and the slightly damp feeling of dirt and too-long grass on the knees of his slacks.
Too much; his jaw hurt and his throat was getting sore from the abuse. Not enough; sensation spiralling through him, the fizz of sex in his head and the sensation like he was about to explode but it just keeps going higher instead.
“Keep your mouth open,” Ryo hissed, his voice strained and scratchy with arousal. It wasn’t like he could do anything else, opening his eyes and blinking through the darkness up the line of Ryo’s body, all white starchy shirt and a flushed face. He opened his mouth and waited, could see movement and the slick sound of Ryo’s fist moving over saliva wet skin. He didn’t have to wait long, closed his eyes just in case. Ryo made a soft sound and the first streaks of warmth hit his tongue. A taste like salt and musk; he wanted to close his mouth and let it roll across his palate like fine wine, but patiently waited. More heat along his tongue, hitting his lips and running down his chin, already a mess of spit. When it seemed like there was no more he licked his lips, chasing what he could with his tongue and smacking his lips.
His tie went slack and Ryo used one finger to mop up the mess on his chin and push it into his mouth.
“Clean me off?” Posed like a question but not really. Koyama licked the wet head of his dick delicately cleaning away all of Ryo’s mess. It wasn’t so much the taste as the meaning that he adored, the closeness.
Leaning back against the car, his lips were sore, his jaw was sore--even his knees were sore from kneeling--he was hard. He stared up at Ryo in the faint light and the other man pet through his hair with a soft, almost hazy smile on his face; Koyama made a soft, happy sound.
“Come on. I’ll drop you off at home.” His clothes were wrinkled and he was hard, underwear uncomfortably damp and the knees of his pants were stuck to his knees with dirt and moisture from the ground. There was probably drying cum and spit on his chin; he smiled up at Ryo, fuzzy and happy. Ryo helped him stand on unsteady legs; his feet had fallen asleep on him.
Ryo manhandled him into the car and flicked off the dome light as he circled the police vehicle and slid into the driver’s side. Koyama melted against the seat, leaving his hair and clothing a mess. He must have looked as freshly fucked as he felt.
The car purred to life. This was Ryo’s car with an eight cylinder every bit as aggressive and noisy as Ryo could be. The police radio cackled, a faint tinny voice spilling from the scanner. Koyama sank into his seat, shifting and spreading his legs to ease the pinch of his pants. He watched the way Ryo sat down and adjusted himself. He seemed content. Koyama smiled lazily, basking in the endorphins and the buzz of prolonged arousal.
“Tell me, do you want to wait until you get home? Or do you think you can do it quietly in the car?”
Ryo threw the car into reverse and Koyama smirked at him. Oh, he could do it. He shifted in his seat until he could undo his thin belt. Ryo smiled at him, looking both ways before turning onto the quiet residential street. It didn’t take long for Koyama to tug his underwear out of the way and pull his dick out. Conscious of the fact that he was essentially in a glass box with Tokyo Police emblazoned on the back.
“You gonna do it?” Ryo’s grin was sharp, daring. Koyama shifted, getting his grip. He ran the tips of his fingers up the side and it sent tingly little bursts of pleasure through him, like the flutter of butterfly wings.
“Yeah.” He stared at the sharp profile of his face in the yellowed light of the street lamps, Ryo’s thin nose and lips and chin, all razor edges. You could cut yourself on them if you were not careful.
They were driving across the city towards Koyama’s apartment, going to cut through downtown on the highway. In the middle of the night, traffic was sparse, but not non-existent. Long slow pulls on his dick, base to tip, nothing to slick the way and too much friction. He couldn’t fuck his fist the way his body demanded, had to settle for the slow build; each touch was that much closer. He’d been keyed up already, all shaken up and ready to pop.
Right on the edge.
“Hold on,” Ryo growled, slipping his hand from the gear-shift to Koyama’s thigh, squeezing the muscle there.
“Please,” Koyama groaned, the head leaking softly and slicking the way a little, making the glide easier. He would only need a slightly harder touch to send him flying into orgasm. He just needed for Ryo to say the word.
They pulled off the highway and into one of the major streets that they would need to follow to get to his apartment. On the highway they had been zipping past cars and Koyama had felt safe, but now they rolled to a stop next to another car waiting at the intersection. Koyama’s mind was so fuzzed he couldn’t even focus on the colour or make of the car nor the people in it. He could only feel the all-encompassing burn of the need to come. He was going to explode. He mind failed, whirled and clicked and just desperately wanted to come.
“Now,” Ryo growled.
Koyama’s hips pressed upwards and he leaned back against the seat, making an aborted keening sound as it slammed through him like lightening, body trying to tighten up as he tried to keep himself loose. His eyes fluttered closed as he pulsed sticky into his cupped palm.
It left him feeling drained and weak, staring blankly at the windshield as the light changed and Ryo stepped on the acceleration too hard and they jerked forward. Koyama grinned, using his free hand to dig through the glove compartment for a wad of tissues from the last fast food place Ryo hit up. He wasn’t disappointed when he found a pile of yellow McDs napkins and used them to clean his hand, though it did nothing for the smell of musk and sex in the car.
“God, you’re good.” Ryo pet his thigh and Koyama melted back against the seat.
The rest of the drive Ryo rolled the windows down and Koyama tried not to fall asleep as the warm wind played with his hair; he was in a pleasant place. He woke up to Ryo tugging on his hair, leaning over the seat divide and pressing into his personal space. It was enough like waking up curled in sweat soaked sheets that he couldn’t help but smile.
“Morning already?” He asked, practically sharing Ryo’s air. “I don’t want to wake up.”
“Stupid,” Ryo laughed. “Go to bed. I need to work; I’ll be back ... whenever.” Ryo smiled wryly and Koyama kissed the tip of his nose.
“Then I’ll see you whenever.”
~~
Koyama was processing some fingerprints found on a jar full of baggies of weed when his phone rang. Stretching out his back, he put the magnifying scope down and leaned across his desk for the phone.
“Hello, Crime Scene Unit. Koyama Keiichiro speaking.”
“Can you come and process a car on the spot or do you want it towed back to the garage? It is in relation to the homicide from the other night.” Ryo’s case.
Koyama smiled to himself. “I’ll be out in a bit.”
Koyama grabbed his ‘Forensics’ jacket and logged the evidence back into the records room and was off in a show of blatant favouritism. Coffee and doughnuts was so stereotypical, but Koyama liked doughnuts and coffee was more of a comfort food then anything to really keep him awake, so he stopped anyways. What was wrong with a little icing sugar powder stereotypical? Nothing.
He arrived at the scene just as Ryo’s car was pulling in. Shige was talking on his mobile in the passenger’s seat and Ryo saw Koyama and smiled. A wolf’s smile.
“Hey,” Koyama nodded to them both, pulling his kit out of the trunk of the black SUV he drove. Junno would meet him here later; Koyama was just here to look at it and prep it for transport.
“If you could come down to the station that would be a big help, ma’am.” Shige was propped against the hood as he spoke into the phone, in pretty much the same place that Koyama had been last night, and he felt a spike of heat go through him. From the look Ryo was giving him, he knew exactly what dirty thoughts were on his mind. Couldn’t help but remember that time Ryo mentioned that Shige would look great kneeling, too. “Thank you for your cooperation. Yes, goodbye.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Ryo imitated Shige’s voice and the other man scowled, running his hands through messy black hair. The two of them had probably worked the night through and it was mid-morning now.
“Fuck you too, Nishikido.”
“Play nice, kids,” Koyama laughed. “What do we have here?”
“Parking cop called it in. It is the vic from the other night’s missing car. We were waiting for you,” Ryo said smoothly like Shige had been the one to start it all along. Koyama was mildly surprised that Shige hadn’t resorted to pulling his gun on the other detective yet. “You processed the body. So far, we have a witness who gave us the names of two men she saw with the victim. We’ve pulled photos and she’s going to come in and ID them. If she picks them out we can bring them in for questioning.”
“If you could link them to the car, that would be great,” Shige said, pointing to the red boxy car haphazardly parked in a no-parking zone.
“I will collect what I can,” Koyama smiled. He circled the car a few times. Nothing stood out so he approved it to be towed into the garage. Watching as Ryo ran his hands through his hair in a tired gesture and Shige shoved his shoulders; ‘stay awake cowboy, we’re on the right track.’
~~
He was bent over, half inside the passenger seat of the car and dusting for more prints. The garage was mostly empty, some mindless pop playing on the radio in the other corner, teasing just the edges of his ears.
“Good view.” Ryo’s voice cut through the silence and Koyama shivered, backing out of the car and pulling the mask over his mouth to hang around his neck, giving the other man a look. “Can’t say the cover-alls are doing a lot for your figure.”
Ryo, on the other hand, looked dangerous in his black suit, barely showing the fact that he had probably worn it for the past 24 hours. At some point he had switched his shirt out for a pale blue one that did wonders for his tanned skin and black hair.
“Looking pretty good from where I am standing too.” He briefly imagined using the powder blackened tips of his fingers to trace the curves of Ryo’s face. It would leave a sooty trail, could leave marks on Ryo’s skin like bruises. Write his name on his chest, his hips, and all those place that other people looked at too often when Ryo strode into the room, all power and feline grace. Write his name where Shige could see it so he would know that, without a doubt, as sweet at Koyama was, this was his. He smiled. “How is the case going?”
“It’s getting hot,” Ryo smirked, all the glee of a child mixed with the determination of a predator. “We’ve got one of them in interrogation with Kato right now. He’s not breaking yet.”
“Would some fingerprints help?” Koyama smirked.
“Fingerprints always help.” Ryo reached into his jacket pocket and produced a sheet. “I even had Junno pull his ten card from a prior.”
“If I find anything, you will be the first to know.” Ryo left it on the desk, turned like he wanted to say something but stopped himself as someone clattered into the garage loudly.
Then Ryo was gone like he’d never been there, which was so characteristic of their relationship. Koyama was used to it by now. He knew why the older detectives were all divorced; what woman could handle this? For the most part Koyama knew that Ryo was his. After all, he was always a good boy for Ryo. Koyama was hot and they sparked off each other explosively. What more could he want?
Still, counting minutes, Ryo spent every bit as much time with him as he did Shige, and if he squinted and tilted his head a little he could see them together. Shige’s unsure straight boy hands running over Ryo’s chest, touching his shoulders like he’d never touched another person before.
“Hey. Do you want me to process this side?” Junno was in his space all of a sudden and Koyama jumped, breath caught in his throat for a moment. The tall man was a damn ninja. “Spooked ya.” Junno grinned, amused.
“Yeah.”
“Do I detect that there is something wrong?” Junno’s voice was muffled by the face mask but his eyes were twinkling. Koyama grinned at him, shaking his head before pulling his own face mask back on.
“Not now.” He took off his old gloves and switched them out for a new pair. “We have a car to process.”
They were both half in the hot, smelly car, Junno’s blond hair clipped out of his face when he spoke next.
“You know he loves you.” Junno was partially under the steering wheel and Koyama looked down at him; he was sort of kneeling on the passenger seat and trying not to get powder in Junno’s hair as he processed the rear view mirror. “The evidence never lies.”
“You’re such a dork,” Koyama laughed. “Speaking of, I think I found something.”
They lifted all the prints they could find and some garbage and napkins--the usual car floor junk.
They brought the ten card and all the prints upstairs with them for a quick look. There were a lot of exemplars to compare. No one was in the forensics unit bullpen; everyone out on various calls. His and Junno’s desks were in a corner near a window and he pulled out his chair. The other man’s desk was littered with photos of his friends, while Koyama’s was mostly his cat. It would be a little inappropriate to have photos of him and Ryo up everywhere, after all.
He felt a slight twang of something unfamiliar, like anger pulling at his heart strings, unable to make a formal claim on the other man. He really only needed to remember the ache in his jaw to know that, figuratively, Ryo’s name was written all over his skin. Invisible lip prints on his legs, arms, eyelids, and all those places Ryo liked to worship. Scent marking the way his cat did.
You could use lip prints to make a conclusive match. The thought made him feel better. After all, Junno was right; people lied, but the evidence didn’t.
“Can you look at this?” Junno passed him a card that had a print lifted off of a can of soda found in the back seat of the car.
He carefully mapped out different points. They would need to pass it off to another examiner for an official match, but that was good enough for a preliminary.
“Awesome,” Koyama grinned and passed the card back.
“You go deliver the news. Maybe get a few favours out of him first.” Junno winked at him and Koyama scrunched up his nose in return and flicked a rubber band at the other man’s face. It missed.
He took the stairs down to homicide but Ryo wasn’t at his desk. He poked Masuda until the other man swatted at him with a scowl and told him that they were in interrogation. He then straightened the folders Koyama had pushed out of place with a bitchy look, his phone cradled between his cheek and his shoulder.
He found Ryo lounging in the room, watching the television feed from the interrogation room where Shige was with the suspect. Yamashita was there too, watching. Koyama tossed them smiles.
“Do you have some good news for me?” Ryo perked up like a dog after a bone, relentless.
“I do. Unofficially speaking”--YamaPi, the boss around here, grinned at him--“your suspects prints cannot be excluded as the source of some prints found on a coke can in the car.”
Ryo’s grin was two parts viciousness and one part victory.
“Got you,” Ryo snarled, stalking towards interrogation like a predator; a black shadow in a suit and eyes that could cut. Koyama shivered thinking about it; Ryo had once interrogated him, had him kneel on the floor and prowled around him asking him questions. He pulled Koyama’s hair, making his neck arch back when he wouldn’t answer. He asked over and over until Koyama cracked just the way he’d known he would.
‘I want you to make me take it, Koyama finally broke down, a sob catching in his throat, ’I want you to pull your gun on me, hold it to my head and make me blow you.’
Koyama never doubted Ryo’s interrogation technique.
“You okay?” YamaPi was looking at him oddly.
“Yeah, zoned out. Sorry.” Koyama smiled and turned away just as Ryo slinked into the interrogation room on the television, flashing Shige a ‘cat-got-the-cream’ smirk. “Long night.”
YamaPi leered at him. “I bet.”
~~
Koyama was curled on the bed with a book when Ryo came home, a flurry of sound and motion from the outside world that startled Nyanta into sitting up and staring at the open door with wide eyes.
“I’m home,” Ryo called.
“Welcome back,” Koyama said sweetly. There was a lot of banging around in the kitchen that had Nyanta perking up and leaping off the bed and darting into the kitchen in hopes of the detective feeding him. Koyama also uncurled himself from his spot on the bed and padded into the kitchen, finding Ryo digging into a bowl of left-over dinner. He looked pleased, meaning he had closed the case and ended his double shift. It was different from the antsy, barely contained energy from when he came home in the middle a case for a nap. “Confession?”
“Two,” Ryo grinned around his spoon, words muffled by the food he was chewing. Koyama draped himself across the other man’s shoulders and pressed his cheek to soft black hair.
“What happened?”
“Honda flipped when we cornered him with evidence that he’d been in the vic’s car. His story before was that he didn’t even know him. He gave up his partner pretty easy after that.” Ryo finished the bowl and moved to rinse it off before putting it in the sink.
“Did he say why?” Another dead, and usually over such senseless things. The world was a crazy place; Ryo made sense of it, one piece at a time.
“Drug deal. They didn’t want to pay, claim they didn’t mean to kill him, but he wouldn’t give up the loot.” Now there was a kid without a dad and a young mom who needed to deal with things all on her own.
“The world sucks,” Koyama whined softly, rubbing his cheek against the other man’s head.
“Yeah.” Ryo tilted his head back and pressed his lips against Koyama’s cheek. “But that’s my job.”
You make it better.
Ryo was exhausted, that much was clear, and a little rank from spending a full day in the same suit. Koyama couldn’t care less. He lead Ryo back to the bedroom where his book was still lying face down on the bed. Peeled the stale dress-shirt from him, pressing a small chaste kiss against Ryo’s lips with every small button he slipped through its eye. The shirt from his shoulders, still tucked into his pants and catching his elbows.
Ryo growled at him and Koyama just gave him a flirty smile. He leaned in to press his face against Ryo’s shoulder, kissing his neck as he toyed with the belt buckle, tugging on it and releasing it.
“Koyama,” Ryo hissed against his hair, pulling on the light constraints of his dress shirt.
“Hm?” Koyama grinned, biting softly on the skin of the other man’s neck. He tasted old, like sweat and the chemical tang of the other man’s cologne. Tugging on his belt again he flicked the slim leather through the loops and tossed it on the floor. The metal buckle landed with a soft sound on the thin carpeting of Koyama’s bedroom.
The zipper was next, the folds of Ryo’s dress pants clinging to narrow hips over his briefs. Koyama licked the patch of skin he found, running his nails across Ryo’s flat tummy and listening to soft, muted sound Ryo made in his chest. Ryo wiggled out of his shirt and grabbed the hem of Koyama’s t-shirt and tugged it until Koyama gave in and lifted his arms up so it could come off.
Ryo shoved his shoulder hard and Koyama fell into the bed with a laugh, the sheets cool against his naked back. He wiggled out of his underwear while Ryo stripped off his undershirt and kicked off his loose pants.
Koyama spread himself across the bed, knowing full well how long and slim his arms and legs were and the effect it had on Ryo. That the other man liked it when he offered himself up like that. The detective stared at him, banked hunger that made his eyes seem endlessly black.
“Hands and knees,” Ryo said, voice soft and sharp and this time. This wasn’t about comfort or anything like that; it was about hunger and lust and all the things that burned between them too hot and bright to be talked about unless they were right there. “God you look so pretty like that.” Ryo’s voice rumbled through the room and Koyama’s breathing hitched when soft lips touched the subtle curve of his spine, hot breath making his skin tingle.
“Yeah?”
“It really is the best angle for you.” Hands on his ass, fingertips digging into the sparse flesh and cupping the sharp, boney curve. “Hot and eager for me.” A faint pressure swiping over his hole and Koyama broke out in gooseflesh, arching back against it. “Just like that.” Koyama had his eyes closed and Ryo’s voice seemed sharper, clearer that way; he could pick out the slightly awed tone he took.
“Ryo.” He pushed back against the hands and lips on him, smacking kisses pressed into the curve of his ass, the faintest scrape of teeth.
“Shhh, baby.” Ryo ran his hands down the outside of Koyama’s thighs. “Hold still.”
Koyama managed to bite down on his shifting, spreading his knees for better balance. Letting his face fall against his arm so he could press his ass higher, wordlessly begging.
“That’s a good boy.” In reward he got fingers gliding down his spine from the nape of his neck all the way down the very top of his cheeks. “Now hold it.”
“Okay.” Knowing what was coming didn’t make it any less shocking, a hot wet stripe that he could feel all over his body at once. He jerked faintly against the sensation and fingertips dug into his hips, holding him steady.
It wound him up tight and hot, right in the center, his chest getting tight in time with his dick. Ryo’s teasing tongue, wet and so hot, just barely stretching him open. Less piercing pleasure and more like wet suction with the barest hint of teeth that had him moaning loudly, barely resisting the urge to press closer. Long broad licks, soft kittenish flicks of his tongue, and all of it was burning him from the inside out, a super nova in his stomach.
Something thicker, firmer, pressed against him, a maddening push and a slight jolt as it slipped inside. One of Ryo’s fingers slick with saliva, not quite slippery enough to remove the sting of friction, but all the better for it. Finger and tongue taking him apart bit by bit. One finger became two, and the tongue hadn’t let up, pressing inside him with the fingers, then licking around the sensitive rim where he was stretched and open.
“Please, oh please please.” Koyama’s voice cracked when Ryo’s fingers hooked and pushed and he was unable to stop the faint jerks of his hips away from the pressure and back into it.
“Hold still.” A stinging pinch to his thigh and Koyama groaned, the sensation flashing through him like lightening. Not pain but something better. He desperately wanted to fuck himself back on those fingers, feel them stretch deep inside, not quite but almost the same as taking a cock. Still, Ryo told him to so he held back.
“Please,” he whined.
“Soon.” A soft bite to the skin on his ass and Koyama groaned.
“Ryo.” He could beg so as long as he didn’t move. “I want it, just fuck me already. I’ve been good.” The last part was more of a whine.
“You have,” Ryo growled, biting down harder on his skin and Koyama squeaked. Couldn’t help the shudder that ripped through him when Ryo busied himself sucking a hickey into the thin pale skin on his upper thigh. “I could get your dildo out, fuck you with it first.”
“No,” Koyama hissed. “Later, whatever. Just fuck me.”
Ryo laughed, delighted. “Your wish, my command.”
Hands on his hips and finally, finally, Koyama felt the thick head of Ryo’s dick pressing against him, barely stretching. He made a frustrated sound and barely managed not to press back; Ryo made a pleased hum. There was actually part of him that wanted to beam with pride but most of him was wrapped up with the burn and stretch of Ryo rocking inside of him in jerky thrusts.
The sheets muffled the sounds he made, crumpled against the bed with his ass lifted as high as he could. Ryo’s hands were on his hip, using the grip on the bony parts of his hips to pull him back into the sharp thrust. The friction and stimulation at this angle were overwhelming. He dipped his spine, gripping the sheets and whining because it was constant and too much and not enough to have him coming. Arms trapped where he couldn’t use them, his cock heavy between his legs, begging to be touched.
Ryo rode him hard and fast and just the way he wanted it. Koyama’s breathing caught in his chest, pressing his face into the bedding as it washed through him, making his toes curl into the bed and his skin tingle. Ryo grabbed his hips and pulled him back into the cradle of his hips.
He moaned, jerking against Koyama, hands tightening and nails pressing into his hips; tiny bright points of pain. It would have been better and worse if he could see it, face pressed into the bedding as Ryo came apart above him. Ryo’s skin was hot in all the places they were pressed together, along the backs of his thighs and the hands against the small of his back.
Koyama shifted under the faint press of the other man’s body, the angle all wrong for getting his hand on his dick.
“Roll over.” Ryo’s lips were pressed against his shoulder blade, and the other man bent over him to press a kiss there before pulling away entirely. He felt sore, stretched, wet and probably a little open, lying on his back with his legs spread, and hard. Ryo grinned at him, flushed from his own orgasm and pretty. Koyama licked his lips, didn’t really care how dirty it was; he wanted to lick the faint trail of come on the head there.
Ryo was climbing between his legs, running hands along the smooth lines of Koyama’s legs, pressing in closer and using his shoulders to force Koyama to bend more and accommodate him. The faint pull of his hips was nothing because Ryo didn’t waste any time in taking his cock in his mouth and sucking hard. It felt like Ryo was trying suck his spinal column out through his dick and Koyama was nearly sure that he really could do it, because he’d been hard and on edge before and he was so way beyond anything that all that could remain was impossible. A finger pressed inside of him, rubbing and moving and Koyama squeaked, his voice stuttering in his chest.
Koyama came so hard and so fast that he saw stars from how hard he pressed his eyes together, back curling as it tore through him. Ryo kept gentle pressure through it, petting his hips and thighs to help him come down.
They both lay there, dazed and half asleep, hands roaming and petting without intent or purpose. The way nights should be spent when they weren’t out being the spear and shield of justice and all that jazz.
“It’s crazy, you know,” Koyama sighed, kissing Ryo slow and lazy, tasting salt and musk, nicotine and coffee and too many late nights. He wanted to say ‘how everything you do means so much to me.’ But it wouldn’t come out right, not without sounding too mushy, or just too much. Impossible to vocalize.
“Hey, babe.” Ryo looked at him, looking all too serious for a moment, wild hair and dark shadows under his eyes. The not-so-caped crusader that made the streets safe at night. “I do know.”
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Date: 2010-09-26 04:27 am (UTC)Your ending lines (the last three) are amazing and are a fitting ending. :)
P.S. I enjoyed it, if you never guessed ;)
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Date: 2010-09-26 07:23 pm (UTC)Thanks :D
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Date: 2010-09-26 01:16 pm (UTC)Thanks a lot for sharing
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Date: 2010-09-26 07:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-27 09:57 am (UTC)Thank u^^
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Date: 2010-09-27 02:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-03 05:05 pm (UTC)thank you for sharing