Working Title: Ashes II Author: Ebonbird Notes: This is afte Ashes. Maybe Mistled comes in after this. I'll pretend it happens after that story, maybe. Or maybe I'll call it, `Earth', or `Birth'? June 25, 2000 Lying on Jun's bed in her room, they were cuddling. He realized this with something akin to marvel. Him cuddling with Jun, not something that he'd ever thought he'd be doing. She needed a hug, someone to lean on, walking her up there and being with her, that was fine. It wasn't like jun did the let's drink and laugh about it the things that are bothering me. No, that was more his thing, and only Ryu could appreciate it and he'd kick Jinpei's ass if he caught him drinking. This cuddling thing was funny. But it was more for his sake then her's tonight. "I don't like this paid dating business," Ken said. "It's not paid dating. It's, it's bodyguarding. I only look like their paid date." "Nambu can't like it." "It's money in the bank, Ken. And I don't care what people say or think. They already figure I'm a whore anyway." "One of `Nambu's girls.'" "That's so not fair to him." Jun said. "Oh, yeah, his female protegees never end up," Ken's voice trailed off. "He's been good to us, right?" "Yeah." She hugged him. Her voiced didn't sound to sure. He wasn't either. Sure. Nambu had not told him that his father was alive. That his father was the rat bastard special agent who delighted in tormenting Ken. Red Impulse. It surprised Ken that he could feel anger when it was Jun who was feeling sad. Of them all, Jun was the only one who stayed in the business. Supplementing her income with paid dating. Jinpei had asked him to talk to her about it. It wasn't paid dating, and if he was the type of person who got scared about little things, he would have thought he was terrified. Body-guarding. She was getting dressed up at night, and sometimes during the day to step in the path of bullets and blades. "I want you to stop." Ken said. "You're not my commander anymore, Ken." She replied, and snuggled against his shoulder, putting her hand on it and yawning. And the war was over. Had been over for over a year and Joe was dead, but he and Jun and Jinpei and Ryu had survived, and her want, it was making him hard, and he didn't understand this state of being, where there wasn't sadness or regret, but the pleasure, and yes, it was pleasure, of this girl who was attractive in a cerebral sense, but there was the unmistakable hard on he was sporting, for sure she'd seen it, because her breath was stirring the short hairs on his chest, and she hadn't moved for a while and she was breathing hard. Softly, but hard, and hey, he was breathing just as hard, and just as shallow. Ken shifted a little, and her thigh was against his and yes, his fingers were running along her side, and yes she had her arm over his chest and he felt warm and maybe, happy yes that was it, he lifted his arm from her nice side, nice and not so soft, she was muscled her softness was in her, yes, that was her hip he was touching, and it was soft and he felt that smile that was trying to stretch his face into some stupid shape loosen his chest and shoulders and he put his hand to his mouth and she shifted a little, drawing her leg off of his and yep, he was smiling and that heaviness that was on his other thigh? Oh, yeah, that was an erection. He had an erection. For Jun. Whadda ya know. "Move over a little," and to his surprise, his voice sounded normal. She did, looking up at him with her big eyes. Leaning over, he hugged her, careful to keep his legs off her. His arms closed around her back, and her hand rubbed the underside of his upper arm and that felt good. Her want was turning him on. This had to be the slowest building heat he'd ever been in. He closed her eyes and thougt hard, really hard, took his mind off his heavy dick and hugged her to his chest and rocked her a little concentrating on the softness of her breast, it was like banking through clouds, aimed at the sun, holding her like this, letting all the softness, fragility, tender responsiveness take his weight. Was this love? Was him holding her and letting what he was feeling, and wasn't, swim up through him. Was love the fear he had for her, the concern he had for her. He didn't want anyone to hurt her and he wanted her to be safe, and happy and he never wanted her to die, and he never wanted her to be in a position to be hurt, and he wanted to keep her there, in bed, and cover her with him so that nothing could get on his nerves, and he could get used to her stupid little voice and the way she smelled which was almost, but not quite, annoying. Was this love, this fear that she'd get hurt, this want for her to be safe, always, to never be in another position to get hurt? Was that it? How he wanted to protect her? He wanted her off the team, and there wasn't a team anymore, and there wouldn't be, she'd try to kick his ass otherwise, was that what had happened, this want, and Joe was dead, he'd died, Ken hadn't been able to save him, keep him safe, and now jun, holding him back, making little shuddering cries, he was talking out loud wasn't he, yes he was. Safe, be safe, safe, be safe, never be hurt. They were alive, they'd made it, they were alive, and he was happy, forgive me, joe, Ken thought, because he was happy and he wasn't going to let go of Jun ever, she was his to take care of, his to make safe and it was release he felt, an exhalation that took the burden of years off of him and he stopped hugging her, pushed up on his hands and looked down at her. Her eyes were narrowed at the corner, and she was smiling a little, it looked. Barely restrained by the look in her eyes, he smiled, and touched her neck. He sat back, lay back and took her hand and put it on his thigh, where his erection was caught between his jeans and his leg and her hand (she had the tiniest wrists) was trembling. He knew this girl. Sparred with her every day for five years straight. Her eyes opened their widest, her face relaxed, line free, worry free, he'd stunned her. Hell, he'd surprised himself. `are you serious?' her eyes were asking. Yeah, it was her lucky day. Who'd a thunk it. Maybe she was the smartest person he knew and he'd been the walking tool all these years. He took her other hand and kissed her palm, licked between her fingers, closed his eyes and held that warm, capable sexy, yeah, dead sexy, deadly, gentle, pretty, capable, lived in, hard used hand against his cheek. "You're cute." He said, and she was. Very. Her want was in her body, the rolling motion of her hips under his, and, oh hey, I'm humping her leg, is this what being horny with Jun means? Oh, she was scratching the back of his neck lightly and it brought al the hairs on his neck and arms to attention and he shivered luxuriously. She hadn't been ticklish in years, but he reached for her knee, brought his fingers together, touched them to her knee and opened his hand, slowly. She shook, and gasped, surprised by her reaction. He did it again, and she put her face to the side, and her mouth opened, and her neck went long while she tilted her head and her nipples got harder beneath her shirt and she mewled like a kitten. And the next time he opened his hand on her, it was on her breast, and she bit her arm, hard, leaving marks and saliva and her leg wrapped around his hip and she arched up off the bed and against him. Okay, he'd never been harder in his life. He probably had the biggest erection in the history of the world. "Off, off," she was panting, "take it off." Oh, he had her arms pinned over her head. Licking at her nipples through her shirt he started on her pants. Damn. Her hair was over most of her face, and the delicate shape of her ear was partially obscured by the damp blackness. He covered her ear with his open mouth and licked and kissed at it and she went loose and mobile beneath him. And she was making all these sounds, not so talkative Jun, making an orchestra for him. Why hadn't he done this before, he wondered alternating between kissing her ear, and looking at her profile. She looked great, cheeks all red, eyes shut tight, her face pure of make-up fresh as flowers, her eyelashes thick and black against her perfect skin. She smelled, oh, god, wonderful, or funky, but he wanted more of that in her lungs, even her bellybutton smelled wonderful he hadn't noticed. When he let himself breathe it in, and savor it, that smell of soap and water, and conditioner and that little hint of all the garlic she liked to eat, he wanted to lick all up on her shoulders and suck on the back of her neck. He must've been dizzy, because she had him pinned to the bed and he was pushing mouthfuls of her hair out of his face. And she reached over him and opened her drawer and he grabbed her arm as it passed him, and kissed her wrist, and the inside of her elbow and she fell down on him, forcing the air out of him, and he said, "Hey!" And theirs stomachs were touching, and with an odd look she grabbed the edge of his shirt with both hands and pushed it up to his colar and, oh, god, Ken's head banged against the wall and he didn't care, and nine out of ten girls went for the chest and she found the spot, that third almost nipple, on the under curve of his right pec. Jun was on him and Ken had to be kicking the hell out of her bed and she was holding his shirt out of the way with one hand and he was screaming, hoarse voiced and grunting, panting, his hands colided with hers at the fly of her pants and the bed was rocking as she wriggled and he got her out of her pants, and his jeans were tugged, kicked off, too. Her shirt was in the way, but he reached for Jun's hips and grabbed the strings of her itsie-bitsies and pulled down. They tore. He held them in his hands, in disbelief. They were soaking. For him. She'd been like a river. Was. "Wow." He said. "For me." Jun crossed her legs, and nodded. "Yeah." So he kissed her, held her face in his hands, watched her eyes close. Studied the shape of her mouth with his, hoped the look on her face as he did so was true desire. There was a tension in in her features he wanted to get rid of, but she held him close, and she rarely spoke, and Ken wondered if the lightness inside him was the absence of fear. * * * Working Title: Ashes II Author: Ebonbird Notes: This is afte Ashes. Maybe Mistled comes in after this. I’ll pretend it happens after that story, maybe. Or maybe I’ll call it, ‘Earth’, or ‘Birth’? June 25, 2000 Lying on Jun’s bed in her room, they were cuddling. He realized this with something akin to marvel. Him cuddling with Jun, not something that he’d ever thought he’d be doing. She needed a hug, someone to lean on, walking her up there and being with her, that was fine. It wasn’t like jun did the let’s drink and laugh about it the things that are bothering me. No, that was more his thing, and only Ryu could appreciate it and he’d kick Jinpei’s ass if he caught him drinking. This cuddling thing was funny. But it was more for his sake then her’s tonight. “I don’t like this paid dating business,” Ken said. “It’s not paid dating. It’s, it’s bodyguarding. I only look like their paid date.” “Nambu can’t like it.” “It’s money in the bank, Ken. And I don’t care what people say or think. They already figure I’m a whore anyway.” “One of ‘Nambu’s girls.’” “That’s so not fair to him.” Jun said. “Oh, yeah, his female protegees never end up,” Ken’s voice trailed off. “He’s been good to us, right?” “Yeah.” She hugged him. Her voiced didn’t sound to sure. He wasn’t either. Sure. Nambu had not told him that his father was alive. That his father was the rat bastard special agent who delighted in tormenting Ken. Red Impulse. It surprised Ken that he could feel anger when it was Jun who was feeling sad. Of them all, Jun was the only one who stayed in the business. Supplementing her income with paid dating. Jinpei had asked him to talk to her about it. It wasn’t paid dating, and if he was the type of person who got scared about little things, he would have thought he was terrified. Body-guarding. She was getting dressed up at night, and sometimes during the day to step in the path of bullets and blades. “I want you to stop.” Ken said. “You’re not my commander anymore, Ken.” She replied, and snuggled against his shoulder, putting her hand on it and yawning. And the war was over. Had been over for over a year and Joe was dead, but he and Jun and Jinpei and Ryu had survived, and her want, it was making him hard, and he didn’t understand this state of being, where there wasn’t sadness or regret, but the pleasure, and yes, it was pleasure, of this girl who was attractive in a cerebral sense, but there was the unmistakable hard on he was sporting, for sure she’d seen it, because her breath was stirring the short hairs on his chest, and she hadn’t moved for a while and she was breathing hard. Softly, but hard, and hey, he was breathing just as hard, and just as shallow. Ken shifted a little, and her thigh was against his and yes, his fingers were running along her side, and yes she had her arm over his chest and he felt warm and maybe, happy yes that was it, he lifted his arm from her nice side, nice and not so soft, she was muscled her softness was in her, yes, that was her hip he was touching, and it was soft and he felt that smile that was trying to stretch his face into some stupid shape loosen his chest and shoulders and he put his hand to his mouth and she shifted a little, drawing her leg off of his and yep, he was smiling and that heaviness that was on his other thigh? Oh, yeah, that was an erection. He had an erection. For Jun. Whadda ya know. “Move over a little,” and to his surprise, his voice sounded normal. She did, looking up at him with her big eyes. Leaning over, he hugged her, careful to keep his legs off her. His arms closed around her back, and her hand rubbed the underside of his upper arm and that felt good. Her want was turning him on. This had to be the slowest building heat he’d ever been in. He closed her eyes and thougt hard, really hard, took his mind off his heavy dick and hugged her to his chest and rocked her a little concentrating on the softness of her breast, it was like banking through clouds, aimed at the sun, holding her like this, letting all the softness, fragility, tender responsiveness take his weight. Was this love? Was him holding her and letting what he was feeling, and wasn’t, swim up through him. Was love the fear he had for her, the concern he had for her. He didn’t want anyone to hurt her and he wanted her to be safe, and happy and he never wanted her to die, and he never wanted her to be in a position to be hurt, and he wanted to keep her there, in bed, and cover her with him so that nothing could get on his nerves, and he could get used to her stupid little voice and the way she smelled which was almost, but not quite, annoying. Was this love, this fear that she’d get hurt, this want for her to be safe, always, to never be in another position to get hurt? Was that it? How he wanted to protect her? He wanted her off the team, and there wasn’t a team anymore, and there wouldn’t be, she’d try to kick his ass otherwise, was that what had happened, this want, and Joe was dead, he’d died, Ken hadn’t been able to save him, keep him safe, and now jun, holding him back, making little shuddering cries, he was talking out loud wasn’t he, yes he was. Safe, be safe, safe, be safe, never be hurt. They were alive, they’d made it, they were alive, and he was happy, forgive me, joe, Ken thought, because he was happy and he wasn’t going to let go of Jun ever, she was his to take care of, his to make safe and it was release he felt, an exhalation that took the burden of years off of him and he stopped hugging her, pushed up on his hands and looked down at her. Her eyes were narrowed at the corner, and she was smiling a little, it looked… Barely restrained by the look in her eyes, he smiled, and touched her neck. He sat back, lay back and took her hand and put it on his thigh, where his erection was caught between his jeans and his leg and her hand (she had the tiniest wrists) was trembling. He knew this girl. Sparred with her every day for five years straight. Her eyes opened their widest, her face relaxed, line free, worry free, he’d stunned her. Hell, he’d surprised himself. ‘are you serious?’ her eyes were asking. Yeah, it was her lucky day. Who’d a thunk it. Maybe she was the smartest person he knew and he’d been the walking tool all these years. He took her other hand and kissed her palm, licked between her fingers, closed his eyes and held that warm, capable sexy, yeah, dead sexy, deadly, gentle, pretty, capable, lived in, hard used hand against his cheek. “You’re cute.” He said, and she was. Very. Her want was in her body, the rolling motion of her hips under his, and, oh hey, I’m humping her leg, is this what being horny with Jun means? Oh, she was scratching the back of his neck lightly and it brought al the hairs on his neck and arms to attention and he shivered luxuriously. She hadn’t been ticklish in years, but he reached for her knee, brought his fingers together, touched them to her knee and opened his hand, slowly. She shook, and gasped, surprised by her reaction. He did it again, and she put her face to the side, and her mouth opened, and her neck went long while she tilted her head and her nipples got harder beneath her shirt and she mewled like a kitten. And the next time he opened his hand on her, it was on her breast, and she bit her arm, hard, leaving marks and saliva and her leg wrapped around his hip and she arched up off the bed and against him. Okay, he’d never been harder in his life. He probably had the biggest erection in the history of the world. “Off, off,” she was panting, “take it off.” Oh, he had her arms pinned over her head. Licking at her nipples through her shirt he started on her pants. Damn. Her hair was over most of her face, and the delicate shape of her ear was partially obscured by the damp blackness. He covered her ear with his open mouth and licked and kissed at it and she went loose and mobile beneath him. And she was making all these sounds, not so talkative Jun, making an orchestra for him. Why hadn’t he done this before, he wondered alternating between kissing her ear, and looking at her profile. She looked great, cheeks all red, eyes shut tight, her face pure of make-up fresh as flowers, her eyelashes thick and black against her perfect skin. She smelled, oh, god, wonderful, or funky, but he wanted more of that in her lungs, even her bellybutton smelled wonderful he hadn’t noticed. When he let himself breathe it in, and savor it, that smell of soap and water, and conditioner and that little hint of all the garlic she liked to eat, he wanted to lick all up on her shoulders and suck on the back of her neck. He must’ve been dizzy, because she had him pinned to the bed and he was pushing mouthfuls of her hair out of his face. And she reached over him and opened her drawer and he grabbed her arm as it passed him, and kissed her wrist, and the inside of her elbow and she fell down on him, forcing the air out of him, and he said, “Hey!” And theirs stomachs were touching, and with an odd look she grabbed the edge of his shirt with both hands and pushed it up to his colar and, oh, god, Ken’s head banged against the wall and he didn’t care, and nine out of ten girls went for the chest and she found the spot, that third almost nipple, on the under curve of his right pec. Jun was on him and Ken had to be kicking the hell out of her bed and she was holding his shirt out of the way with one hand and he was screaming, hoarse voiced and grunting, panting, his hands colided with hers at the fly of her pants and the bed was rocking as she wriggled and he got her out of her pants, and his jeans were tugged, kicked off, too. Her shirt was in the way, but he reached for Jun’s hips and grabbed the strings of her itsie-bitsies and pulled down. They tore. He held them in his hands, in disbelief. They were soaking. For him. She’d been like a river. Was. “Wow.” He said. “For me.” Jun crossed her legs, and nodded. “Yeah.” So he kissed her, held her face in his hands, watched her eyes close. Studied the shape of her mouth with his, hoped the look on her face as he did so was true desire. There was a tension in in her features he wanted to get rid of, but she held him close, and she rarely spoke, and Ken wondered if the lightness inside him was the absence of fear. * * * It wasn’t the same. Making love to Ken, it wasn’t the same. Of course not, he was a different man, but those short short days with Joe, his arm across her back and cupping Her buttock, on the small of her back, his legs against her hips, his voice rubbing through his skin and hers and into her chest, taught her that the rush wasn’t about the penis, that sex wasn’t about the hard and invasive heat of a him, But arms to hold and hands to learn a body that was more hers than hers had ever been. Ryu’s kisses were sweet on account of intent and the clove cigarettes he didn’t quite sneak. Jun had seen their effects first hand, and she knew from limited experience what clove smoke did to the mouth of the smoker. He’d be sitting in his corner booth in the snack J, exhaling smoke through his nostrils and his big white teeth. Little girls who wanted to be in his entourage giggled. He was the guy you could buy nail polish with and try new hairstyles. The girls he dated were small, more petite than Jun and they stuck to Ryu’s side. Not quite jealously, but Jun would see if his bulk moved enough for her to see, a little thing, probably not under fifteen, crowding Ryu’s knees. It was obvious that they adored him, these little girly-women in their fuku’s –skirts rolled up so they hem rested well above their knees --- regulation cut hair spiked up with the same colors they glossed on their eyes and lips. Uniforms made for versatility, and their legs were good and they knew it. Most of them looked far younger than they claimed to be. Jun took out the garbage. “Ryu,” she warned after coming across him by the J dumpster, sitting on a crate and heard a girl’s ask, “Honey?” and the his drawled reply, “No.” A moist silence followed by the girl’s voice asking, “Sugar?” Hoping to all the God’s and their Lord that Ryu wasn’t enticing minors with candy Jun poked her head past the dumpster, saw Ryu sitting on a crate, leaning forward with his hands on his knees, the latest girl cupping his big face in her tiny hands, her fingers white against his deeply tanned, water lover skin, laying a kiss on him that Jun felt to the base of her spine and the start of her rear. “Just kissing. What kind of monster do you think I am?” he asked when she confronted him. Jun loved Ryu, but she didn’t know him that well. Just kissing he claimed, his light brown eyes wide, his blue painted fingernails clutching his red highlighted hair in his distress. Just kissing Ryu said, but he didn’t specify where. Jun didn’t ask him, too. She loved Ryu, but she didn’t know him that well. After that she kept her distance. He’d come by the Snack J though, hanging out, bringing his friends, and yes, his little girlfriends. But one day he came by really early, she was out on the fire escape doing her toes and he skinned up the fire-escape, and she’d stopped to admire his speed and form. Even at sixteen Ryu was massive, he lifted obscene weights at 3 reps a set, but he was still fast. “Hey,” he’d said. “Hey,” she’d answered. “You mad at me?” He’d asked. She’d had to redo her second toe, which was long and a little crooked. Nambu said it was the mark of a natural athlete. “A little creeped.” She’d replied. “Okay.” And he’d pulled out a pack of clove cigarettes and lit up without so much as a ‘you-mind?’. He offered one to her silently. She’d noticed that the black polish on his thumb was chipped and she’d passed the pot of nail polish remover to him. “How’s a fifteen year old get a bar/restaurant of her own to run?” Nodding Jun took a puff of the clove cigarette. She pulled it away from her mouth, smacking her lips at the sweet taste. “Sorry, Ryu. That was kinda unfair. Date whoever you want to. It’s none of my business.” “I’m only seventeen.” He said. “and you’re not even close to that…” “Okay, okay. Change subject,” and smiling put her hand on his arm. And he’d smiled at her, his eyes sort of sad still, but different sad. “You gonna be okay, Juni? You not in trouble or anything?” “Nambu wouldn’t let me get too deep in anything like trouble, you.” she responded affectionately, rolling ‘sky larking’ and ‘excellent’ in her hand. Ryu poked the bottle of ‘excellent’ with one big finger. “I think you look good in green.” He’d said and after that, they were pretty inseparable. Carefully, Ryu’s lips pressed against her cheek and he straightened, his Hand still on her opposite cheek. He looked sad. “You’re going to have to get over him.” Ryu said. Shakily, that sob fighting her overall tightness she said, “Who?” “That man you loved. Love. Our friend. Our teammate.” She sharpened her eyes at him and he stood his ground. His soft wide face implacable in its gaze. He was looking right down into her soul and his eyes were watering from what he saw. “Jun, this is not good. For you. For Jinpei?” “I don’t see you getting over it.” “It’s different for you.” Ryu licked his bottom lip, bit it and arched an eyebrow at her. “How come your first real boyfriend was a dead ringer for Joe?” Ryu hunched his shoulders and crossed her arms. Choji. Long brown hair, tall and lean, a motorcycle enthusiast like her. “God, you’re right.” She said hollowly. She covered her face with her hands and leaned into Ryu's comforting bulk. He was huge. Thick with muscle, wide as a building, his arms couldn’t hang straight down and he’d yet to wear a knit shirt that wasn’t extra, extra, extra, extra large that didn’t gap at the waist, but he was soft all over, perfect with fat, and leaning against him and letting the pain shake her as it wanted, knew why Jinpei played all video game death matches pressed up against Ryu’s bulk. He was better than a dad. * * *