Rye - pt. 6 - YAOI

Part Six

"They say there is no rest for the wicked, but I will rest tonight knowing that there are those more wicked than I."

* * *

Rainwater had turned the sidewalks to streams. The gutters ran with swollen tendrils of water spotted with chunks of wood and paper swept up by the flow. Those who dared brave the persistent downpour found themselves blocked by flooding traffic, the cars turned into virtual boats that skittered and swerved over the thin film of water that blanketed the concrete. Faces were replaced with carbon-copy black umbrellas that bobbed like the debris floating in the gutters beside them.

Jared absentmindedly kicked a Starbuck's styrofoam coffee cup between his feet as he walked, watching it roll ahead a few feet before coming to a stop until he was close enough to kick it again. The  Art History professor at the University had been absent from the lecture today, so class had been canceled early. This left the majority of the afternoon and evening open with free time that Jared rarely had the pleasure of sporting.
Rye would be elated to see him home so soon.

The coffee cup made a hollow gurgle as it spun into the gutter, almost instantly carried away by the fast current. Jared watched it with a slight frown. His thoughts had been on Rye a lot lately. And not just on what he was doing, or how he was managing at home all by himself...more often than not Jared thought about what Rye was feeling.

The younger boy always seemed so happy all the time...but  nobody was happy all the time. It just didn't make sense for him to be so overjoyed about doing housework and staying in the loft by himself every day. More than once Jared had assumed the little hybrid was just putting on a brave front. What if he really was miserable? Spending so much time alone?

If only there was someway he could show Rye how much he loved hi-

Jared balked, his head reeling from the unchecked thought that had crept into his silent conversation. He pressed a palm to his forehead and closed his eyes, already feeling the slight blush that was crawling up his neck. Loved him? Is that really what he'd been thinking? It wasn't...love. He cared about Rye more than any other person and only wanted him to be happy. But that was a normal feeling for someone who'd found a good friend. Definitely not love...right?

“Ah!”

Jared's eyes snapped open, his head turning in the direction of a thin alley molded into the wall on his right. It was such a thin, dark space he normally would've walked right passed it if not for the sound that had drawn his attention. He stepped closer, brushing the stray hairs from his face as he strained to hear over the constant patter of the rain.

“Hh-ah!”

There it was again.

Lowering his umbrella, Jared folded the flaps shut and propped it over his arm, ignoring the rain that now fell on him unchecked as he took a hesitant step into the alley. It had already been a dark day due to the rain, but the alley was nearly black. It almost felt as though he'd just stepped into night from the other side of day. At least in here the eves of the houses on either side blocked the rain...

“Stop...”

The umbrella dropped to the ground with a clatter.

Near the end of the alley a group of two men, both of them only a few years older than Jared, were standing in a semi-circle around a figure on the ground. One of the men kicked at the fallen form while another pressed a boot against its chest, firmly holding the victim in place despite the hushed pleas that fell from its lips. It wasn't until Jared had stepped closer did he see who the victim was.

A hybrid.

His thoughts immediately went to Rye. This hybrid had the same eyes, wide and as blue as the sky once the storms rolled away. The little hybrid's dark hair fell over her face like a stained curtain, the small rivulets of blood sliding down her chin just barely visible. Her long, elegant tail was crushed under the other boot of the man who held her down, her ears pressed so flat they were nearly non-existent. And for a moment all Jared could think was...thank God it isn't him.

“Hey!”

Both men turned, the simpering smiles on their faces dropping at the sight of the one who had intruded on their fun. The one holding the hybrid down took a step back, freeing the girl for the narrowest of moments. She bolted immediately, crawling back before stumbling to her feet and brushing passed Jared into the warm, rainy street beyond. Jared wanted to follow, and ask if she was going to be okay...but he had a bigger problem right then.

Two problems, actually.

And neither of them were very happy with him.

* * *

Rye hugged the wide ceramic bowl close to his chest, stirring the thick brown mixture inside with a firm look set on his brow. He'd always loved brownies, but had never dared attempt to make them before now. It wasn't until he'd officially mastered the entire cookbook did he turn his attention toward the sticky treat. As the saying went: there's no time like the present!

He set the bowl aside, pushing open the kitchen door and shuffling across the main loft floor to the stand where the television sat. It still sent a little thrill of happiness every time he turned on the box; his previous master would have never allowed such freedom. Ears swiveling, he pushed at the buttons until something that resembled a channel fuzzed into view. On the screen an animated sunflower pulled itself out of the ground with its leafy arms and danced in the sunlight.

Rye worried the tip of his finger between his teeth and smiled, wrapping his tail contently around his ankles as he watched the dancing flower. Several seconds later, the sunlight was swallowed up by dark clouds and slanted drops of rain began to fall. The sunflower folded its arms over its head and sunk tot he ground...it didn't get back up...

Rye started at the sound of the front door opening, the remote control nearly tumbling out of his hand from the unexpectedness of it. He knew Jared had classes all day toady...who could it be? He flicked the television off and bounded toward the door, secretly praying that the scary landlady hadn't returned to inspect the house again.

“Jared! You're home ear...ly.”

Rye faltered, his ears dropping until they hung on either side of his head. It was then that he wished it had been the scary landlady...anything but this.

Jared was bleeding. The bright red liquid trickled from the edge of his mouth and from a deep scratch above his eyebrow. He was leaning against the doorway for support, one arm wrapped tenderly around his ribs which clearly pained him at the smallest movement. He took half a step inside and gently closed the door behind him, his calm, dark eyes riveted with anger and hurt. It wasn't until he glanced up at Rye did the anger fade, leaving only the pain behind.

“Rye...could you please help me? I don't think I can walk much further.”

Rye swallowed hard, sliding his arms around the older boy's waist and taking on most of his weight as he stepped away from the support of the wall. They moved across the living room in silence, the stillness only interrupted by Jared's occasional flinch and faint gasps of pain. Once inside the bathroom, Jared eased himself to the floor, his back propped against the side of the tub. There, he closed his eyes and released a deep breath.
Rye knelt next to him, already feeling the threat of rising tears as he leaned against the older boy's shoulder. When he didn't respond, Rye buried his face into Jared's neck, finally letting the tears come as he wrapped his thin arms around the hand closest to him. “Jared? Hh...what's wrong? Why aren't you talking?”

A hand touched lightly at the back of his neck.

“Sorry.” Rye could hear the words echo in Jared's throat when he spoke. “I'm just tired. Please don't worry about me. I just need to rest...for a while...”

Rye closed his eyes hard and waited for the tears to stop. He could hear Jared's heartbeat, strong and rhythmic in his ears, the only sound he allowed himself to listen to for the longest time. The older boy's breathes became slow and peaceful, his chin sinking to his chest as he drifted into sleep. Rye pressed closer, determined not to let go. He didn't care how Jared had gotten hurt...just so long as he got better as soon as possible.

Careful not to disturb him, Rye pulled himself to his feet and quietly opened the medicine cabinet. He remembered where Jared kept the bandages from when he'd cut his hands on the broken shards of the bowl. But...he'd never had any experience with medical procedures at all.

Biting hard at his lip, Rye sank back to the floor and began fumbling with the buttons that ran the length of Jared's shirt. His ribs had seemed to be the most serious of the injuries. Rye wanted to make absolutely sure that he wasn't bleeding. The buttons came away to reveal his collarbone and the top of his ribs. Rye hesitated, leaning back and firmly placing a hand over his mouth. Already he could see some blood. A large red smear that came up from under his ribs, and area still covered by the shirt.

He didn't dare look any further.

“Rye?”

Rye started, his ears flicking as his gaze met Jared's. The older boy's eyes were half-shut, still clouded with the leftover sinews of sleep. “Come here,” Jared tugged Rye's sleeve weakly. The younger boy pressed his lips into a worried line and scooted closer, switching his tail around until it touched Jared's knee. “Are...you okay?”
Jared's lips lifted in a tired smile, “Yeah. I'm fine...Rye? I want to ask you a question. And...I don't want you to answer in a way that would make me happy. I want you to answer truthfully...even if it might make me sad. Okay?” Rye hesitated. He only wanted to make Jared happy. What if he agreed to respond truthfully and the answer wasn't what Jared wanted to hear? “O-okay.”

Rye's breath wavered as Jared raised a hand to his jaw, skimming his fingertip along the bone until it rested direction below the younger boy's lip. “Rye...do you like me?” Rye breathed a sigh of relief, clasping Jared's raised hand between his own and lowering all three of them to his lap, “Yes. Of course I like you. You're my Keeper, how could I not?”

Something flickered behind Jared's eyes.

“Rye...” He squeezed the younger boy's hand tightly and lifted his free hand to the back of Rye's neck, leaning forward without hesitation and pressing his lips to Rye's own. His hand moved up into Rye's hair, tilting his head back ever so slightly as he parted his lips against the younger boy's. Giving Rye's hand a final squeeze, he pulled back...but only just.

“Rye...” he traced gentle circles at the base of Rye's snow white ears.

“Do you love me?”