Rye - pt. 2 - YAOI

Part Two


“Thou art the unanswered question; couldst see thy proper eye, always it asketh, asketh; and each answer is a lie.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

It had grown dark at some point, the long shadows cast from the setting sun dancing like jesters around the ankles of the late-evening commuters. Already the stars could be seen beneath the haze of red, pinpricks of light in the otherwise spotless sky.

Rye glanced up at the older boy walking a few paces ahead of him, almost immediately returning his eyes to the ground so not to be caught staring. They both walked quietly; so much so that Rye was afraid the other could hear his heartbeat. God knows, it’s all he could hear, pounding restlessly against his temples and fingertips. Rye squeezed his eyes shut and fell back another few paces, feeling faintly dizzy from the weight of what had happened.

He could still feel the faint blush smoldering at the base of his neck, thinking back to the shelter and what the Keeper there had said. Don’t bother with him…he’s useless…completely useless… “Hh…” Rye faltered; not realizing that Jared had stopped walking until he’d nearly ran into him. The older boy, his new Keeper, turned smoothly to face him, his arms folded over his chest. He was staring…

Rye stared back, not sure how to react. The older boy had warm eyes; Rye noticed that first. They were brown, shot through with lighter streaks of hazel and random spots of green. Warm, and kind, and…beautiful. Rye’s ears sunk, his head tilting slightly to the side to test if Jared’s eyes would follow. They did. He swallowed hard, “Sir? Is something wrong?”

Jared blinked. He’d forgotten that Rye could talk. He’d grown so used to seeing slaves standing silently beside their masters; come to think of it, he couldn’t remember ever hearing a hybrid speak before. The sound startled him. It was so human…

“No,” Jared said slowly, “it’s…nothing. We…I never really introduced myself, did I? My name is Jared.” Rye’s ear twitched, rolling the name over in his mind while smiling inwardly. It was a very nice name. He ducked his head, “I’m Rye.”

* * *

Rye stepped lightly over a pile of papers that blocked the entrance of the loft, his tail knocking several loose and sending them drifting over the floor. He was about to apologize when Jared’s eyes caught his own; the older boy’s were waiting…expecting. Rye scanned the loft obediently, taking in every sheet, every canvas, and every paint stain. “You have a beautiful home,” he said quietly, surprising himself by how much he meant it.

Jared’s lips lifted into a faint smile, seeming relieved as he stepped over the stack of papers and shut the door behind him. Rye followed him closely across the open living room, wary of the shadows that clung to the dimly lit corners. He’d always been afraid of the dark; something his previous Keeper had taken a cruel advantage of, sending him out to do chores in the dead of night. Rye nearly ran into Jared a second time when the older boy stopped in the center of the room.

Jared tapped a nearby couch with his foot, sliding his hands into his pockets while doing so. “This couch folds out into a bed…so you can sleep here. Is that okay?” Rye nodded shyly, touching the armrest of the sofa with a strange feeling of appreciation building under his ribs. He’d never slept on an actual bed before; his previous Keeper kept him on the floor of the kitchen.

“Right,” Jared stepped back uncertainly, his finger tapping along the length of his forearm, “…there’s blankets in the cupboard, pillows too. So…you’re probably tired? I’ll just…let you sleep then.” He hesitated, giving the room one last look-over before shuffling to the closed door of his own bedroom. Rye touched the couch again, almost afraid to sit on it for fear of punishment. It wasn’t until he heard the pop of Jared’s bedroom door did he look up.

“Um…Sir?”

Jared looked back, eyes bright, “Yeah?”

Rye set his bag of scarce belonging down and offered Jared a shallow bow, “I just wanted to thank you…for picking me, I mean. I promise I’ll do everything I can to help you. I’ll be the best I can be.” He met Jared’s searching eyes hesitantly, giving him a quick smile before turning his attention back to the couch. Jared watched him unfold the bed quietly, his tail swishing across the floor in smooth fluid movements.

Shaking his head, Jared retreated into his room, leaving the door open just enough for him to hear into the other room. He slid off his shoes and shed his shirt as quietly as he could, listening to Rye’s movements as the little half-breed prepared his own bed. Once he could no longer hear shuffling, Jared lay down and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come quickly.

It never did.

Suppressing a sigh, Jared tilted his head to look at the shaft of moonlight that was filtering in from the other room. He blinked slowly, trying to blur the lines into sleep…though his mind wandered. Did Rye find enough blankets? What if…he was cold? Jared cast off the sheets that covered him and dropped to the floor, crossing the room without a sound and gently nudging open the door.

The living room was illuminated with wavering moonlight, making every detail, corner, and curve stand out bright and sharp. He immediately picked out Rye’s slender figure on the couch, his legs pulled up tightly against his chest with the tip of his tail lingering just under his chin. He’d only picked out one blanket; the shale gray coverlet that Jared had picked up in a nearby grocery store on impulse. His chest rose and fell easily in time with his breathing.

Jared leaned back against the doorway, slowly sinking to the floor until his own knees were pressed tightly against his own chest. Rye’s ear flicked in his sleep, his pale eyelids closed softly. Jared ran a finger over his mouth, listening to his heartbeat and counting the rise and fall of the hybrids shoulders. Did he have enough blankets? He…looked cold.

Jared rose noiselessly, padding across the living room to the cupboard where he drew out another, thicker blanket with tasseled edges. Rye didn’t even stir when he laid it over him, a row of goosebumps rising along his own arms from the chill of the room. He’d really have to fix the heater in here. Rye would sleep better if the room were warmer…

Resisting the urge to brush the loose hair from Rye’s face, Jared crossed back to his own room and firmly shut the door. He had classes early tomorrow morning and needed all the sleep he could get. But even with the covers pulled well over his head, Jared still couldn’t keep his mind from wandering next door.

…did Rye have enough blankets?