Remix for snoozing_kitten Part 2
Title: The Flight of Icarus
Rating: NC-17
Group/Pairing: Ryo/Koyama (News)
Warnings: Sex scene and violence
Notes: Snoozing_kitten, I absolutely love the original story and, despite this being a much bigger project than I've ever taken on before, I'm really glad I got the opportunity to do this. Your AUs never cease to inspire me. I really hope I've done this fic justice.
Huge thank you to my beta; you're awesome.
Link to Original Story: Hymn of Lazarus
Link to Original Writer: snoozing_kitten
Ryo froze, body tensing before he turned to look over his shoulder at Koyama. "Wait, what? Why?"
"Do you want to or not?"
"I don't have a job anymore." It seemed Ryo had been attacked at just the right time for no one to suspect he was missing and again Koyama wondered at just how he had ended up in that situation last night. But no matter if the attack was planned or not, Koyama had become a part of events and he wasn't about to let this man walk away until he knew more of his story.
"You can split shifts with me until you find one," Koyama offered willing to do just about anything to convince him now that he'd made the offer, "I'd like it if you cooked." he added, suddenly anticipating something good in his life for the first time in years.
Ryo shrugged and turned back to the dishes in the sink but not before Koyama noticed the scowl slide off his face.
And so it was that Koyama ended up with a new person in his life. The apartment was small, only one bedroom, but Ryo claimed he was more than content with the couch, his significantly shorter stature making it more comfortable to Ryo than Koyama had thought it to be. There were delicious home-cooked meals waiting for him on the table every evening, he had more time to himself while Ryo was working half of his shifts and best of all, there was someone for him to talk to who was capable of talking back. Ryo was already aware of Koyama's main reason for avoiding people so there was no hideous secret hanging over Koyama's head each time he spoke. It was a huge weight off his mind. After a couple days of jealousy, even Nyanta had come to accept Ryo into the household, somehow sensing how the new man's presence improved Koyama's quality of life.
Ryo found a new job soon enough, splitting the rent now that he had his own pay check. Koyama had feared that Ryo's independence would see him moving out but, thankfully, he made no move to leave despite his back obviously being the worse for wear after the second week sleeping on the couch.
They settled into a pleasant type of domesticity. It was something Koyama had never expected to experience again. Something to be treasured, this chance to be a part of another person's life. To know someone and be known. Ryo was like a blessing in an otherwise cursed life. He still pressed the contact issue. They hadn't touched since the first night but the opportunity was continuously and almost forcibly presented. Ryo would try to brush past him as they moved about their tiny apartment, holding his hand out in a way that could be a gesture but seemed more like an offer, he would even rest his hand across the table during dinner or the couch while they watched TV and even though all of it could be nothing, it was quite clear that Ryo was making a statement of sorts. Koyama wanted to answer him, to reach out and take what was offered but the more time he spent with Ryo the more he came to care about the man. There was just no way that he could risk hurting someone he cared about. Not again.
Time passed between them and after they had settled into their domesticity Koyama came to wonder certain things about this man who walked away from his own wreck of a life only to make a new home in Koyama's own twisted tale. What did he want? Why was he here? Why on Earth did he choose to stay? It all seemed a little too good to be true.
Koyama's little fantasies would float around his head, thoughts of Ryo giving up on sleeping on the couch and sliding into Koyama's bed, tucking his strong limbs around Koyama's lanky form and warming him better than Nyanta was ever capable of. It was doing things to his mind, living with temptation just a few feet away and no intention of giving in. He knew it was taking over his thoughts too often. He tried dealing with it when he was alone but it wasn't enough. He tried touching Ryo after patting the cat but it seemed that contact though gloves was offensive to Ryo; he yelled so much after that simple touch to the shoulder that Koyama had put the gloves in a drawer and not been willing to get them back out for two days, much to Nyanta's disgust.
Nyanta made himself scarce after that. Koyama wondered if he'd really upset the cat that much. Ryo had other theories, ones that involved the possibility of gorgeous little Nyanta kittens. The reality of it though, sent him crashing back into reality when Ryo screamed at him from the back room in the middle of a morning shift. His tone of voice scared Koyama and he went skidding into the back room to find Ryo crouched over a bleeding mass of fur. It took a while before Koyama's eyes adjusted and he was able to make out what he was seeing. His Nyanta, looking like so much road kill and mewling pathetically.
This was his punishment. He'd wanted too much; got greedy. And so the universe decided to take something away from him. He'd finally used his skill in a big way and then he was selfish enough to keep the man he'd saved, greedy enough to think that he might be able to have a companion and so the whoever decided these things seemed to think he had one companion too many. There wasn't time to heal the poor creature with the plants, a delivery that was due soon cutting his time short.
Ryo seemed to have hope though, shaking Koyama back to reality and telling him to do what he could to stop Nyanta from getting worse. Koyama didn't understand but he didn't care either, if Ryo had thought of something then he was going to trust it. Ryo bolted out of the door and Koyama said a few soothing words to his cat, moving him to the storeroom barehanded before stepping away. He closed up the front of the shop and grabbed a two of the biggest plants he could carry. He took them to Nyanta and sucked them dry as quickly as possible. It wouldn't be enough to heal him, it would probably only be enough to keep the poor animal conscious but Koyama had enough faith in Ryo to believe that what he was doing was going to be helpful rather than just cruel.
He'd gone through five larger than usual plants and countless tears by the time Ryo returned with shoe box. When it was opened Koyama's heart froze. He couldn't, just couldn't do that. He'd already been so selfish, how could he take the lives of these conscious little creatures?
"He'll die," Ryo explained quietly. Koyama still resisted but deep down he knew what he was going to do, "You have to." Ryo pushed; taking the decision away so that Koyama didn't have to do it himself, leaving Koyama to simply reach out toward a soft, twitchy little mouse.
It was awful. As Nyanta became more and more aware, he fought the pain more and more determinedly. The cries and groans were sounds Koyama had never heard from a cat before and they hurt to listen to. But no matter how horrible it was, Koyama continued on. This was not something you could do half-way. By the end Nyanta was healed and content. His fur was matted with blood and dirt but he was, ultimately, just fine. Ryo took Koyama's apron and sent him back into the shop, cleaning up the mess himself. Koyama nodded patting his cat and eyeing off the one remaining mouse. For one horrible second he contemplated using that mouse to replace the plants he'd sucked dry at the start. Koyama hated himself a little for that thought. He could hide the plants for now and reanimate them with a little strength from several other plants later. Maybe the mouse would be quicker but it would make Koyama a monster, to kill something that didn't need to die just for his own convenience.
The rest of his shift passed in a blur and when Koyama finished for the day he dragged himself upstairs to find a freshly bathed cat, a very scratched up Ryo and a little brown and white mouse in a cage. Ryo dragged him out and drove them to the field where they dug five tiny graves for the mice that Koyama had killed earlier. Koyama teared up at that. It meant so much to him to have a way to respect these mice. This was a way to acknowledge that they were conscious, living beings that died for a reason and would be appreciated. Koyama's eyes drifted over Ryo's back as he filled in the graves, coming to settle of what he could see of the man's face.
Who was this man that could heal so much of Koyama's damaged psyche?
"Feel better?" he asked simply and Koyama found himself nodding.
"Actually, yeah," Koyama sighed quietly, shocked at how much this one act had helped. He reached out without thinking, hand closing over Ryo's wrist as he stood, "Thank you."
"Don't mention it. Really." He looked down and away. Koyama smiled gently at just how awkward this man was. For someone who was so determined to make Koyama touch him, he certainly didn't know how to react when it did happen; gruff behaviour hiding the shy man beneath it all and suddenly Koyama just couldn't hold back anymore. He pulled the other man to him, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. His shoulders were solid and warm under Koyama's arms, the skin of his neck soft against Koyama's face.
"Thank you." Koyama said again. But the thanks weren't just for this evening or even just for today. It was for all of it. For being there, for talking to him, for staying and caring and understanding without running off screaming.
Strong arms wrapped around Koyama's waist, holding him there, "I said don't mention it." Gruff words contrasting with the careful grip on his lower back.
"Okay."
After that night they slipped back into their usual routine, lives slotting back into place around one another. Koyama didn't touch him again but he was desperately aware that he wanted to. His previous contact with people had never had that effect. It made him feel different; desperate, scared and thrilled all at once. He wasn't naive, he knew it was attraction but it was still so new to him that he wasn't really sure what to think about it. He'd seen romance movies, read books, watched porn. It's wasn't like he was an uninformed kid but he'd never allowed himself any of the experiences that went along with attraction. Usually when he realised he was attracted to someone he would do his best to stay away from them, going so far as to be rude to them in the past just to avoid endangering someone. This time though he'd already gotten too involved to walk away. Ryo was a part of his life and he didn't want to lose that.
What he needed was privacy. Maybe if they had a bigger place and Koyama could walk out of his bedroom without laying eyes on a sweaty sleeping Adonis lying on his couch each morning, then he would be better able to cope with the situation. Besides, it wasn't fair on Ryo to have to sleep on that couch forever and Koyama certainly didn't want him leaving. Clearly, they needed a bigger apartment.
He brought it up one morning over breakfast. Ryo didn't seem too happy about it. At first he was just shocked before helping by finding reasons why every available apartment advertised wasn't right for them. Koyama figured he was just picky but his unenthusiastic attitude continued to rear up every time Koyama raised the subject. Maybe he didn't really want to stay after all. Maybe he saw sleeping on the couch as his escape card. Considering how easy it was for him to walk away from his last life, there was a fair possibility that Ryo just wasn't good with commitment. That was okay though; Koyama was fine with leaving Ryo's name off the lease if it made him feel a little better.
"I think I found a good one." Koyama announced a few days later as Ryo arrived home from a walk, leading him back toward the kitchen table and the waiting newspaper.
Ryo followed him in but he didn't stop, backing Koyama up against the table.
"I'm going to kiss you." Ryo announced, changing the subject with the one thing Koyama couldn't ignore.
Koyama could feel his eyes just about bugging out of his head. He couldn't run, the table was in the way and climbing over it would take long enough that Ryo would catch him. For a moment he considered climbing under the table and using the chair legs as protection but in the end it was Ryo. Koyama didn't want to hide from him.
"Ryo, you can't."
"Why not?"
"I'll hurt you."
"Then why did you let me stay?"
"I..." Koyama didn't have an answer for that. Ryo was here because of Koyama's selfishness but that wasn't something he wanted to admit. Koyama didn't need to find an answer though because Ryo wasn't listening. Koyama froze at the touch of lips on the corner of his mouth. Soft and warm and just a little bit hesitant. Ryo's weight shifted, slowly settling against Koyama's and pressing him into the edge of the table.
"See, still here," Ryo assured him, his breath skittering across Koyama's face. He kissed Koyama again, tongue joining in to flit across his bottom lip and making Koyama's heart flutter, "And still here." Ryo's hands drifted down to grip Koyama's hips; this time Koyama found himself kissing back.
"What about now?" he asked as they came up for breath.
"Yeah, still fine."
Koyama seemed to dissolve after that, everything melting into a stream of kisses and touches. Ryo was pulling at him, pressing strong hands into his back and forcing them into each other's space. It was more than anything he'd ever thought it would be. Ryo's mouth and the way their tongues moved together, the fingertips sliding along Koyama's sides, the feel of Ryo's solid muscles beneath his shirt. It all sent Koyama's mind reeling.
Ryo kissed down along his neck and Koyama's knees gave out at the feeling. He clutched at Ryo, head thrown back, offering his throat up. Ryo supported his weight, pressing him back against the table and moving down to lick at Koyama's collar bone. But the table dug into Koyama's back and he no longer had the ability to push away from it as Ryo became ever more fervent.
"Hey, ow." Koyama tried to warn him but Ryo didn't listen, still kissing, touching and basically distracting his quarry. Koyama pulled back, regaining his feet and pulling away from Ryo.
"What?"
"Table." Koyama explained, having to repeat himself before it registered enough for Ryo to allow them to stand independent of one another.
Koyama felt awkward and strange and really didn't know how to go back now that he'd let things get this far. It didn't matter though as Ryo cut off his chance to say anything. He towed Koyama into the bedroom and flopped down on the bedspread, pulling Koyama down by the hand.
"Is this okay?" Koyama asked, wondering as much about the intimate repercussions as he was about the physical dangers of what Ryo was getting himself involved in.
Ryo's ineloquent answer about having wanted to do this forever settled Koyama quietly, though it could have also had something to do with the fingertips trailing along the underside of his arm and raising goose bumps in their wake.
His fingers ran down along Koyama's ribs, tickling enough to make him want to squirm but not enough to that he couldn't contain it. Ryo professed to wanting to touch all of him and Koyama gave in, acquiescing to Ryo's will and laying back to accept whatever was offered.
There were fingertips, rubbing palms, tangled limbs and, throughout it all, lips. There were touches everywhere and then the hands weren't just running over skin or on him, they were there; pressing, rubbing.
Koyama came up onto his elbows, back refusing to stay straight against the mattress. Ryo smirked at him, proud and lustful and reassuring him that this was going to be as awesome as everyone says it is. By the feel of it Koyama feared that it might even be better than he had suspected.
Ryo bent forward, his mouth against Koyama's chest, thrilling him despite the layer of cotton between them. It all began to blur together as clothes slowly disappeared and Koyama's nerves were increasingly lost, all of it melting into a giant ocean of sensation even as each individual touch burned itself into Koyama's memory.
The feel of a sweaty palm sliding down under his jeans, the denim peeling away, the strange feeling of being caressed by eyes, the warm, moist pull of Ryo's mouth swallowing him down, the sound of his own voice making new sounds and the look in Ryo's eyes. It all built together to make something amazing and new. Koyama lost his mind though it all, he remembers hearing himself begging, constantly saying please, though he couldn't remember actually saying it, just the sensations as it happened and then his world broke apart and he was coming, hand gripping at a shoulder like a lifeline as Ryo swallowed his excitement.
He hadn't expected his vision to go. He realised he must have gone cross-eyed as his eyes slowly readjusted and took in the sight of Ryo settling down beside him, desire still shining in his eyes as he lent forward to kiss Koyama. It was all open-mouthed tongue and little movements against one another until Koyama became very aware of the fact that Ryo was still hard, twitching against Koyama's hip.
Koyama moved his hand down and clasped his fingers around Ryo's length. It wasn't at all like he'd imagined. Koyama had just assumed that all cocks felt the same; sort of a 'if you've held one, you've held them all' mentality. But the truth of it was that Ryo was different. He was hot and solid and thicker but mainly, he was Ryo and that meant something. It was the difference between holding his own hand and holding someone else's; the meaning, the feeling, the repercussions all changed.
As Koyama started moving his hand and Ryo's hips joined the rhythm, as panting breaths and delicious moans puffed against Koyama's shoulder and hands travelled mindless paths and mouths joined, Koyama realised that while he'd been protecting people, he'd been stopping himself from living and feeling and falling in love. This was love for Koyama. Maybe it was something else for Ryo but somehow he doubted it. People don't put in that much effort to stay by the side of a potentially dangerous contact-phobic stranger without a reason. Koyama basked in the thought as Ryo's moans reached fever pitch, short fingers reaching out to twine against Koyama's free hand and gripping strongly as the orgasm rocked through him.
Ryo curled up beside him then and Koyama couldn't help but stare at the way they leant against one another, sweat-slicked skin sealing them together. There were few words between them but Koyama didn't feel like they were necessary anyway. Their bodies had already said everything important. Instead they rested, drifting off entwined to wake up the same way and indulge in another round of lovemaking including an amazing amount of Ryo exploring every minute detail of Koyama's untouched body with his tongue.
The days followed on like that, Koyama gradually getting more and more used to touches, even becoming the one to initiate it sometimes. It took a whole week together before Koyama accepted Ryo's hand in his own as they walked home from the shops. A couple of the locals smiled at him. One girl, a regular at the flower shop, looked upset but overall, despite most people not caring in the slightest Koyama felt like he'd hurdled over a milestone. Not only was he happy but he was willing to announce it.
He sat in the small kitchen, staring at Lazarus the mouse running around in his exercise wheel and tapped his fingers against the newspaper on the table. For years he'd lived scared to use his skill, scared to reach out to another human being, scared to so much as pet his cat without gloves and now here he was sitting in his simple little home with a mouse who lived because Koyama had spared his life, not through mercy but simply through luck of the draw, a cat whose life had been saved at the drawing of five other mice and a man whose live had been saved though a mess of some near four dozen potted plants. He was living now and it felt important to make a move. This apartment was a sign of his former, simple, lonely life. Koyama wanted a new one. A home, not a place. Somewhere that was Ryo's too; a place that they could share equally. He picked up the phone and dialled the number listed on an ad for a second story two bedroom. The second bedroom might not be used much now that Ryo had moved into Koyama's bedroom but if Koyama ever got hurt badly enough to need to heal slowly, he'd need to stay away from Ryo until he healed and it wasn't fair to keep banishing him to the couch.
With an appointment to view the apartment set up for ten the next morning Koyama sat happily, twiddling with the radio past news reports about death tolls and serial killers until he found real music, getting up to clean up a little as he sang along. Maybe he wasn't the second messiah. Maybe he wouldn't fill the world (beyond his home) with the walking dead. And maybe, just maybe, Koyama would get the chance to fly without his wings melting and hurling him back to Earth. Because just at this moment in time, Koyama was really, truly happy.
Ryo tried to get out of the apartment viewing the next day, claiming that days off were for long lazy bedroom romps not schlepping out past two train stations just to look at an apartment. The bedroom, or really anywhere in the apartment that involved a basically flat surface and a lack of clothing, seemed to be Ryo's favourite way of getting out of discussing apartments but it wasn't going to distract Koyama when there was someone waiting for them. He refused to be so rude as to stand up the realtor.
Ryo sulked the whole way there and Koyama felt increasingly uneasy about it. Was a new apartment such a problem that Ryo needed to act like a child about it? Did he not see what it symbolised to them? But now wasn't the time to discuss it. Koyama knocked on the door to the apartment and watched it open toward a tall, slightly elder man. Something felt off about this guy, sallow facial features contorting into a scowl at the sight of Ryo stepping in to shake his hand.
Koyama shook off the feeling and moved further into the space, following the man into the main bedroom and nodding as Ryo announced that he was going to check out the kitchen. The flooring was nice; polished wooden floors with plush carpeting in the bedroom. Koyama never got to really see the room though; he was unconscious before he had a chance to look up.
...
The world came back into focus with a dull throbbing that was either in Koyama's head or was making the entire atmosphere of the Earth pulsate. From what he could tell, he'd been knocked over the head. Koyama tried to move and found himself bound to a chair in the middle of the abandoned apartment. Ryo was nowhere in sight and Koyama panicked as he stared that the man with the knife in front of him.
He was gagged but he tried to speak anyway. He needed to know where Ryo was. Was he all right? What had the man done with him?
"Shut up."
Koyama struggled at that. Obviously asking questions of knife-wielding strangers who knocked people out and tied them up was not the best of plans. There was a small amount of give in the rope where it tied his left hand. If he could just move his arm a little, he might be able to take advantage of his girlishly slender wrists. Though what good a single left hand would do him when the rest of him was still tied to a chair was a mystery.
"You should have come alone Koyama... Can I call you Keiichiro?"
Koyama shuddered at that. It had been so long since a person had called him that. He hadn't even had the guts to ask Ryo to use that name yet.
"Bastard." Koyama glanced wildly toward the sound of Ryo cursing, finally noticing him lying on the floor, bleeding slightly at the temple with his hands tied. At least he was basically okay for now.
The man muttered something and kicked Ryo where he lay before turning back to Koyama. He ranted at him, calling him Keiichiro in a sickly voice and gloating about his infamy on the news. He announced himself as the chop-slash killer. It was a name that Koyama had heard on the radio many times in the past weeks, each time with a larger number attached to it but Koyama had always changed the channel or stopped listening. He'd made a promise to himself many years ago to only focus on the positive in the world in a last ditch effort to stop himself from being crushed under the weight of depression. Now he wished he had listened, wished he had heeded whatever warnings they'd given out. At the very least he wanted to know what he had to expect.
"When I heard you on the phone I just knew you had to be the next on. They are going to find your pretty body; and it will be my best work yet."
A sick feeling twisted in Koyama's gut and for a moment he thought he was going to vomit, gag or no. Ryo was on his feet then, rushing across the room and screaming for the man to leave Koyama alone. Koyama twisted his arm, pulling his wrist free and thinking that he might be able to help Ryo knock the guy off balance at the least. He didn't get the chance though.
Ryo ran straight into the knife that was in the man's hands. The man pulled his weapon back out, blood staining up to the wrist and Koyama could do nothing but watch as Ryo crumpled, blood and thicker things pouring out onto the ground in front of him.
The man turned back to Koyama, disregarding the life dissolving at his feet as if Ryo was an inconsequential scrap of collateral damage. Koyama had no fear for himself or the knife now pointed at him. He cared only for the fact that Ryo's eyes were unfocused, the gush of blood slowing along with his heartbeats.
He didn't think, didn't care about the man in front of him as he lifted an unexpected hand and gripped at the man's wrist as the knife moved forward. He didn't concentrate or hope or wish, he just decided and the life seeped out of that man and into Koyama. His eyes going wide as he fell to his knees and flopped to the side, obscuring Koyama's view of the man he loved. He kept holding even after there was nothing left to draw out of him. Koyama knew how much life there was in a plant, in a mouse or a hamster or a cat. He knew how much life should be in a full grown man who was significantly shorter than this one but there just wasn't as much there. Maybe he was sick but even so he'd have to be half dead to have so little energy to be drawn out. There might not be enough.
Koyama bent forward, picking up the dropped knife and trying not to balk at the amount of blood on it. He gripped as tight as he could and cut through the ropes as quickly as possible. He pulled off the gag last as he toppled out of the chair and pushed past their attacker's body to reach for Ryo, hand's covering the wound in his stomach.
It took all of what he'd taken from the man as well as the large potted ficus in the corner and still Ryo wasn't okay but it was enough for him to regain consciousness.
"Koyama." Ryo sighed, smile curving weakly over his features.
"Are you okay?"
"No. Did you kill him?" Ryo asked quietly.
It hit Koyama then. He had taken a life; a human life. A weak, twisted disgusting excuse for a human, but a human none the less.
"There was no other way," he explained, half explaining and half reminding himself.
"Good," Ryo acknowledged before relaxing into Koyama's arms. For a hideous second Koyama thought he hadn't done enough and Ryo was slipping away, "He deserved to die. It is okay."
"No it isn't," Koyama disagreed despite just wanting to agree and leave it at that, "I killed a person."
"You saved me," Ryo pointed out, pulling himself closer with a fierce cringe, "I still feel like hell."
Koyama explained about the pathetic amount of life he'd been able to gather. Ryo nodded and told him to clean up, pulling his shirt off and feebly trying to use it to mop up his own blood. Koyama wasn't sure what he was doing but he helped as best as he could, making Ryo sit still while he went about mopping up the blood and loaning Ryo his jacket.
They left the apartment like nothing had happened; they'd moved the man into the kitchen and taken the knife with him. There was no visible blood left and Ryo's DNA wasn't on file so even if they found the blood the police wouldn't know whose it was.
Koyama helped Ryo down to the car and took him home, to use up a few more potted plants. They threw the shirt and the knife into the burnable garbage. The knife didn't break down but all the dna on it did, after that they threw it in the river. The discussion about what to do with the knife was the one and only time they talked about what had happened that day.
Koyama couldn't stop himself from retreating into his shell in the aftermath. He, who had coveted life above all else, had done what he had sworn never to do again. He had taken a life and he'd done it by choice. How could he live with that?
The news reported on how the killings had stopped. They speculated over the reasons; was he getting better at hiding the bodies, did the police find him without issuing a statement, had he moved on? When they did bring up the possibility of a 'vigilante' having dealt with him, there were always words of praise and people voicing loudly how much they thought that was the case. If the man had been caught, his life would have been forfeit to the law. Ultimately Koyama had done the same as others would have if given the chance. He'd just gone about it differently. At least that's what he told himself so that he could live with the fact of his actions.
But at the end of the day, it was Ryo's face, peering down at him and forcing Koyama to eat, even if he wouldn't get out of bed. It was the way Ryo's warm, living form would cling to him as they slept. It was the fact he was not alone that got him to pull himself out of bed and continue on with their life. Ryo was right; they didn't need a new apartment. They just needed to be together.
Eventually, as time and Ryo slowly healed his psychological wounds, Koyama came to believe that maybe it was fair to think that using his skill wasn't what sent him crashing back to Earth. Maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that he had this skill that kept him going in the first place. Maybe this Icarus would get to fly after all.