Cole McGinnis 05 - Down and Dirty (13 page)

Ichiro didn’t hear him. The blanket was twisted around him, and he fought to get free of it. “I’m so fucking… lost here. I don’t know what to do. Fuck, someone tell me what to do. What to feel—”

“Why don’t we start with what happened?” Bobby put his bottle down, then tugged at the afghan, opening its folds so he could get closer to Ichiro. “Move over. Turn on your side so I can hold you while you talk.”

“I’m not a damned girl. I don’t need cuddling.”

“Everyone needs cuddling. Even girls. And boys. Maybe the world would be a nicer place if more people did it. Now move the fuck over.”

It took a bit of maneuvering, but the couch was wide enough for Bobby to lie out on—he’d made sure of that when he bought it—so other than the extra weight of Ichiro on him, they would fit. He pulled Ichiro on top of him, then lay still as Ichi squirmed and nudged, getting comfortable. Bobby’s dick came up with a few suggestions, but he ignored it, trying to get Ichi settled.

“I shouldn’t have… come here,” Ichi confessed, mumbling into Bobby’s chest as they shifted about. Sliding over Bobby’s stomach, he lay half on and half off Bobby’s body, cradled in a tightening embrace. “This thing… you and I… I just didn’t know who else to go to. And… fuck, I needed this. Needed you.”

“Talk to me, Ichi. Mouth moving. Words coming out. Talk.” Bobby shifted, angling Ichi closer. “What the fuck happened? And yeah, you can come here any time. We’ll work it out, okay?”

The tale spilled out—about death and bullets, of a young man trying to live his life in a different way and how he’d lost that life in the middle of a sunbaked courtyard, Cole’s shadow stretching over his body like an avenging angel. He heard the shock of gunfire, heard for the first time up close and personal, and the terror those sounds made, knowing each
ping
, every
thwap
sound could be the end.

He’d been there before, wearing a blue uniform and praying to some God he’d broken up with years ago, but somehow in that moment, Bobby’d found the words to beg for some peace and calm in the middle of his death.

A death that walked by him and found someone else, their blood gushing out of their young bodies as the light faded from their eyes.

His first shootout ended badly, his partner at the time gruffly cuffing him across the back of the neck and telling him the kid got what he deserved. Ichiro was luckier. He wouldn’t have to worry if it’d been his bullet that brought Thanatos’s attention to a fourteen-year-old kid. He’d gotten comfort instead of the insult Bobby’d gotten when he lost his lunch in the back of a downtown alley, and the memory of the shooting would fade, instead of coming back to waltz around in Ichi’s nightmares.

Bobby didn’t say any of that. Instead he merely held Ichiro until he was talked out and sleepy, worn out from the emotional terror ride he’d taken. Only then did Bobby trust himself to stroke Ichi’s back, letting his fingers trail down the dip of the man’s spine and back up again.

“And Jae—he just… it’s okay with him,” Ichiro growled. “I want to take Cole and… fuck, I don’t know.”

“Kick his ass?” Bobby chuckled. “Good luck. Your brother’s got a good right hook when he’s pissed off. I’ve been on the end of it before. Not someone to brawl with if he’s got a grudge.”

“Probably spent his time beating Mike up as a kid.” He grumbled in Japanese. “Or Mike beating him up. God, fucking Mike. I wanted to talk to him, but… you know how he is. Okay, so I didn’t really want to talk to him, but he’d have been the logical choice. But he’s—a dick sometimes.”

“Yeah, he’d want to fix it,” Bobby replied softly, his hand making another circuit down Ichiro’s back. “Not what you want, eh?”

“No.” He sighed, his muscles relaxing under Bobby’s touch. The shivers and cold were gone, bled out during Ichi’s rant. “I just needed… you. And it fucking pissed me off wanting you. Not even for fucking, because, you know, I want that too, but just—because I needed someone to hear me. Jae and Cole were like those bobbing head things with each other.
Yep yep, that’s just how Cole is—gotta love him for it
. I wanted to punch them both until their brains came back.”

“Thing is, Sunshine, that
is
how your brother is.” It was regrettable but a truth. “Angels look at him and say, fuck, dude, kick it back a little bit. Shit, he knew Jae for what? A half second, and he went into a bombed-out building looking for that damned cat.”

“He found her, though,” Ichi murmured sleepily. Exhausted, he slithered into a boneless heap. Bobby could feel him relax, his body unclenching as he warmed up. “God, I’m so fucking tired. The Harley, I love it, but it’s like riding a bone snake. I ache everywhere and not in a good way. I should have at least been fucked hard to feel like this.”

“Not the best image there, dude,” Bobby warned him gently. “You’ve got a Jeep. Shoulda driven that over.”

“I needed space around me. Hell, I don’t even know how long I rode around. But the thing’s all rattles and jerks. Hard on the body, but I wanted to just go.” He grumbled something Bobby couldn’t quite catch, then sighed. “I left my helmet downstairs on the bike. Someone’s gonna rip it off.”

“Probably,” he conceded. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“Don’t need your money. Grandfather—my father’s father—and my mother left me enough. I think he thought I’d turn out better. Maybe more traditional. Not a nice guy, but… I think he liked me well enough. Told me once I had to go out and see the world. My father told me I had to stay and root in Japan.” Ichiro grimaced, turning his face up to look at Bobby. “It’s not that I’m not Japanese. It’s that I’m—I didn’t fit. It was too tight on my skin. My father doesn’t understand that. I don’t think he ever will. Maybe Megumi will give him that son he wants. Or he’ll like the daughter he’s getting enough to make her his heir. Fuck, that poor kid.”

“Things okay between you and Megumi? Will she let you see the kid? Or are they going to be assholes like Cole’s dad?”

“Megumi and I were close—are close. She wants me to name her daughter, so I guess I’ll want to see her. It’s a little weird, you know? Fuck, she hurt me, but I think I was kind of relieved. I wanted out. She wanted… in. Sometimes I want to throw it into my father’s face that he’s with
my
leftovers, but that’s not… hell—”

“Not you, man. That’s not you. You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re not a dick.”

“No, not to her.” Ichi rubbed his nose against Bobby’s chest. “But it’s awkward. Family things are awkward. My aunts don’t like her. Probably because she’s young enough to be their daughter, but she married the head of the family. Lots of conflict. Tight smiles and backstabbing. So political, and everyone watches to see who’ll stumble.

“If I were Megumi, I’d want a food taster, but she’s not… bright in some ways. She’s sweet, though. I’m more worried about her surviving the family than anything else.” He yawned, stretching like a cat. “Fuck, look what it did to my mother. She could barely make a decision without worrying about what the family would think or do. It’s a fucked-up minefield they’ve made to live in.”

“I should move you to the bed,” Bobby teased. “You’re falling asleep on me here, Sunshine. And if you wake up sore, just remember, it was the bike. Not me. Although I wouldn’t mind if it was me. I’d leave you rattled.”

He regretted the flirtation as soon as he said it, but there was no going back. Playing snipe and tease with Ichiro was a habit, a very dangerous habit and one that was going to bite Bobby in the butt.

“Thought we weren’t going to do that—
thing
thing. You kicked me out yesterday, remember? Now, shit… you and I, we’ve either got to go or stop here. One or the other.” Ichiro propped himself up, sharp elbows digging into Bobby’s ribs. He winced but kept quiet, startled by the dark circles under Ichi’s eyes. “I go into your bed—even to sleep—and we fuck this up. Hell, I probably already did that coming here, no?”

“No,” Bobby whispered. “You didn’t fuck this up. You needed… someone, kid—”

“Not a kid, Dawson. I keep saying it, and yet you keep calling me that. It’s like an excuse for you.” Ichiro reached down and cupped Bobby’s crotch, squeezing at the bulge he found there. “And this is telling me you don’t think of me as some kid.”

“You’re the same age as my son, Ichi. Bad enough you’re Cole’s little brother. I could be your father.” He moved his hands down to Ichiro’s hips, intending to get off the couch. “And… shit, reasons. So many fucking reasons, Ichiro.”

“Name
one
good one. Name one good reason we can’t just… do what we want without anyone knowing. Why can’t I just for once in my life do something—have someone like you—without the rest of the world poking their nose into it?” He exhaled, his breath a hot wind over Bobby’s chest and neck. “Yesterday—shit, it was only yesterday you were pushing me away and telling me no. Today I spent a good fucking long time sucking on a piece of road hoping someone wasn’t going to put a damned bullet in me, and then my stupid brother decides he’s going to go be a hero and get into the middle of it.”

“Same shit as yesterday, Sunshine. I’m a bad idea—”

“I’m covered in bad ideas.” Ichi sat up all the way, straddling Bobby’s hips. Shucking his sleeves back, he bared the ink embedded under his skin. “See these? They’re supposed to be my idea of running into a burning building, because what I’ve done to myself is
everything
my family hates. The symbols, the ink—everything. But it’s my decision, and I took the consequences.”

“Nothing’s changed since then,” Bobby insisted. He didn’t want to look at Ichiro’s bared anything. Something about the man dug into him, and he was struggling to let it go. “You’re still Cole’s brother and—”

“Dawson, trotting Cole out like he’s a cross and I’m a vampire isn’t going to cut it. Age. My brother. None of that shit matters, and you know it.” He leaned over, pressing his hands on the couch arm, his weight dimpling the stuffing. “I want you. I want to fuck you. You want to fuck me. I needed you, and you answered that need. And right now, I need… more than just a cuddle. I want to feel like I’m going to fucking live through this damned thing, because I’m scared. Today fucking
scared
me, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with it. So yeah, I want… more than this cuddle. So give me that one good damned reason why you and I can’t—”

“Because if I do this with you, Ichi….” It was a confession he couldn’t stop. The words were coming up out of a scared dark place he’d buried years ago, but Bobby found himself staring down into the abyss, watching his personal Pandora’s box crack open to release his demons. “Because if you and I go to that bed, and I get to do what I want with you, I might not ever want to let you go. Then what’s going to happen to me when you get tired of it and walk off? Then what? I don’t want to go through that again, Ichi. It hurt too fucking much the first time around.”

Ichi’s eyes moistened, and he lowered his face, brushing his lips over Bobby’s parted mouth. He left a wet trail with his tongue under the breadth of Bobby’s bottom lip, then whispered, “What makes you think I want to let you go? Take a chance on me, Dawson. Take a chance on both of us.”

Chapter 8

B
EING
IN
the same room with Bobby, naked and writhing under his touch, hammered at Ichiro’s senses. He’d stood once in the middle of a hurricane, young and foolish to face the wind and the pounding rain, hoping in some primal part of his brain the fury of the storm would wash away his sins and imperfections.

Trembling there in the dusky heat-brushed Los Angeles night and wrapped tight with the want of Bobby boiling up under his skin, Ichiro finally realized he’d been standing in the wrong storm.

He’d needed a hot, sweaty thunderstorm with a foul mouth and rough hands—one that whispered Ichi’s name as if he were in the middle of a cathedral, and Ichiro was its altar.

God, those hands.

Hard and scraping, Bobby’s fingers were scored with calluses and scars. Ichi felt every bump and bruise in Bobby’s life raking over his back and shoulders when Bobby explored his body. The man wasn’t gentle. Not by any means. He’d stripped his clothes off without a thought to seduction, perfunctory and practical, but his dark eyes were swallowed black with his arousal, and the jut of his thick erection as it sprang free from Bobby’s jeans was a temptation all on its own.

The man definitely spent time pushing his body to its limits. It showed in every long plane of muscle sculpted over his broad shoulders and flat belly. Bobby’s thick thighs rippled with power when he braced himself and pushed Ichiro down onto the bed, his tongue licking his top lip as if he were debating where to start on Ichiro’s body.

Ichi didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Clasping his hands on Ichiro’s hips, Bobby tumbled down on top of him, chuckling when Ichiro’s breath left him in a rush. Shoving at Bobby’s chest, Ichi coaxed the man to turn over, then straddled his belly. The tickle of soft hair around his lover’s navel teased Ichiro’s cleft when he slid up Bobby’s abdomen. Stretching his arm back, Ichiro found Bobby’s cock, flicking his fingers over its soft head until it wept with excitement.