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andrew_in_dragRating: NC-17
Pairings: Kyo/Toshiya, Kaoru/Toshiya, Die/Shinya, Aoi/Uruha
General Warnings: AU, slash, violence, language, yakuza theme, character death, mental illness themes
Chapter Warnings: mild slash
Previously: The Prodigy | The Rent Boy | The Escort | The Imposter | The Professional | The Shateigashira | The Bargain | The Addict | The Rookie | The Long Night | The Lights | The Chase | The Brothel | The Pits | The Memory | The Truce | The Plan | The Shateigashira's Game | The Oyabun | The Suspect | The Revelations | The Oyabun's Advice | The Fortune Teller | The Escape | The Betrayal | The Aftermath | The Ghost | The City of Ashes | The Special Assignment | The Runaway | The Keyhole | The Geiko's Son
Notes: this is the prequel to Protect Me. For the yakuza terminology and hierarchy that I'm working with, please see here.
When a young prostitute is found with blood on his hands, he catches the eye of the Inagawa clan's prodigy and quickly finds himself tangled up within Osaka's criminal underworld. Taken into a yakuza house and pimped by the mysterious shateigashira, he is desperate for any means of escape - but in a house of cards, can anybody really be trusted?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: THE GENTLE HOUR
Toshiya was awake, but it was easier just to keep his eyes shut and feign sleep. He could sense Kyo hovering by the window, letting in the cold air that had woken him, and there was a lingering, pensive quality to the shateigashira that kept them both quiet.
Like playing dead, Toshiya thought bitterly, fighting the urge to shift against the sheets. His ribs were aching where he had been kicked, but the cool pillow was a relief against his bruised face. More uncomfortable was the torrent of thoughts racing through his head, the endless reliving of the earlier hours of the evening in a vain attempt to understand just what, exactly, had happened. What had changed.
What confused him was the shateigashira's sudden gentleness; the way he had so carefully pushed his clothing aside and touched his body, treating it like it was something special. The words he had said, and what he had done.
Toshiya had been bracing himself to get fucked, and it had terrified him. His body was so torn and sore from his ordeal down in The Pits that he was certain he would be broken in two; that he would be hurt in some terrible, obscure way, and though he knew in theory that people didn't really die from sex – at least, not outside of some pretty weird accidents – that knowledge didn't lessen his feeling that he might simply bleed and bleed and bleed, a stuck faucet, and shrivel into a pale white nothing. He had even begged, hadn't he? I can't, he had said.
Please don't hurt me.
“I never wanted to. I just wanted to touch you. I just wanted to know what you felt like.”
And he hadn't hurt him. He had touched him, had felt him all over, but – no, not hurt him. He had been light as a ghost; had worked him up slowly and then taken his hot, flushed dick into his mouth, and when Toshiya had gasped that he was going to cum and had tried to pull back, Kyo had pushed his hands away – had let him cum. Had wiped his lips with the back of his hand and kissed him so tenderly, it might have been a dream.
Well, maybe it had been.
Toshiya closed his eyes and let two fat, hot tears soak into the pillow.
It was late, but Die couldn't sleep.
He frowned up at the ceiling and then turned onto his side; threw his blanket off and then retrieved it. Curled up, and stretched out. Searched for a cooler spot on the pillow.
He sighed, smacking his head against the mattress lightly in frustration: he had nights like these sometimes, when it was clear that sleep just wasn't going to come, and what did he do? Continue to lie there in bed like a stubborn idiot, watching the hands struggle around the face of the clock and waiting for the first grey light of dawn to ease itself beneath his blinds.
He sat up in bed, feeling blindly in the dark for the lamp next to his bed. In the top drawer of his dresser, tucked away underneath his clothes, he had a small dented tin that contained a pack of king size papers, some loose tobacco, a small grinder and a good-sized amount of pot. Moving very slowly, tiptoeing to avoid creaking the floorboards and waking up everybody who was asleep downstairs – many of the younger brothers still slept together on the altar room floor – he retrieved his tin, settled down on the edge of his bed, and concentrated on rolling a joint that was just strong enough to get him good and sleepy.
He always felt edgy about smoking in the house. Kyo disapproved of Die smoking anything but cigarettes when he was 'on duty', and since the shateigashira rarely considered him to be off duty, his opportunities were fairly scarce. Still, he considered it unlikely that Kyo was going to suddenly burst through the door: it was gone midnight and he hadn't seen him in hours; not since he'd been left alone with Toshiya.
As he rolled, Die wondered absently what they were doing. Sleeping, talking, fucking? He found it hard to imagine Kyo in bed with anybody, or even really enjoying anybody's company.
But then, he always had a tough time imagining two men in bed together. In his head, he couldn't find a way to make it work. The limbs got in the way, and besides, what would they do, anyway? Would they kiss? Touch? More? He knew the logistics of it, but trying to turn the mechanics into something real was like trying to grasp smoke.
With that thought in mind, he lit up. He felt pretty proud of his handiwork. The first toke came through smooth and fragrant and green-tasting, like he was burning young leaves, and he closed his eyes in satisfaction as he exhaled through his nose.
And then something nudged his door open by an inch.
Die froze. He was praying that he was just seeing things, but no; he could definitely hear the sound of somebody outside the door, although their footfalls seemed very light and they were breathing in an odd, snuffly kind of way. Whoever they were, they seemed to be tapping gently against the door every so often, almost as if they were bumping into it over and over again. They must have been carrying keys: there was a light jingling sound.
Die wasted no time in mourning his unsmoked joint: he ground it out in his ashtray and opened the window, flapping his arms wildly to get the scent of cannabis out of the air. When he was satisfied, he sat down on the edge of his bed again and groped wildly for a book, trying to look innocent.
The door nudged itself open another inch. The snuffling sound grew slightly louder, as did the jingling, and Die frowned.
“Who is it?” he called nervously, and almost fell back with relief when he heard a tiny, muffled bark. “Miyu!”
Shinya's little dog padded into the room when she heard her name, her triangular ears pointed up inquisitively. She was really an odd-looking creature, Die thought to himself with amusement as he scooped her up, but Shinya seemed to love her whole-heartedly. That was the one thing about Shinya that he could be sure of: everything else about the other man just seemed to lead down blind alleys.
What he was doing in the house; why he didn't like to talk: these were Die's questions.
And then there was the kiss. That wonderful, surprising kiss.
That was the biggest question.
Where Miyu went, Shinya was sure to follow, and soon there was a quick, quiet rapping at Die's door.
“Come in,” Die called, settling Miyu on his lap. He was starting to enjoy himself.
Shinya looked uncomfortable as he slipped through the door, only opening it about a foot; he nodded awkwardly and gestured towards his dog.
Sorry, he signed. Die could read that one.
“That's okay. I wasn't asleep or anything,” he said reassuringly, but Shinya still looked strangely agitated. He seemed in no hurry to open his mouth and speak, or even sign more; he just stared down at his hands miserably.
He still felt it, he noted bleakly. He didn't want it, but it was there like it had always been there: whenever he looked at Die, that fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach; that feeling like everything was suddenly so much sharper and clearer and closer. Like falling, slowly.
“Hey,” the redhead asked awkwardly, “Do you want...do you want to sit down?”
Shinya sat quietly. He felt utterly lost, mired deep in his own muddled mind and struggling with the impossibility of wanting things but not knowing them, being scared of them and not understanding. Affection was something he had never been given freely, and now he found he had no idea how to express what he felt outside of the most basic statements: I like you, I'd be sad if you left, it's good when you're around.
There were words inside him, but they felt thick and sludgy as molasses.
“I put the bell on her collar to scare the birds,” he blurted instead. There was a terrible tightness in his throat, as if every time he said something wrong the pressure rose higher.
It was on the tip of Die's tongue to say that she would have scared the shit out of him with or without the bell, but he stifled it. There was a strange, prickling feeling in his skin, like he was bleeding heavily just beneath: in the smouldering remains of his joint he smelled—
Tent canvas. Campfire smoke. Greenery, early summer, dry twigs and mossy stones and birthday candles.
Die said, “I want you.”
The words had their own quiet buzz in the room, and carefully he picked up his joint and relit it. His hand was shaking slightly, and he had to chase the tip of it around with his lighter for a few moments before he was successful.
He felt oddly light. It was as if those three words had been sitting inside him for years, ever since those first heady years when he'd caught glimpses of his friends' bodies and felt undone, like he was unravelling; ever since that night with Ryuichi and those tentative fingers grazing over the front of his jeans; ever since meeting Shinya and looking at him and seeing beautiful, secret things inside him. He had tried to ignore them, but they had only grown bigger and heavier.
After a hundred miserable, failed relationships with girls; a hundred guilty fantasies – he felt free. Like he had been standing on the edge of some great precipice for all his life, just waiting to be pushed, and now finally he had just jumped.
Falling. But free.
He took another deep toke and let it out slowly. Whatever happened now, he thought lazily, it was completely out of his control.
There was a kind of luxury in that.
Next to Die, Shinya felt as if he had suddenly been thrown into an ice cold lake. His quick mind had frozen, his fingers were stuck stiff and crooked; his words were suspended, stranded in his throat and he dug his fingernails into the skin over his temples desperately.
Say something! Do it!
He pulled hard on a lock of his own hair, agitated tears springing to his eyes. It wasn't fair: he had never so consciously wanted anything; had never felt such an immense physical and mental and emotional reaction to another person before – and now he was going to lose all of it, just because he couldn't get a single word out.
Idiot he's going to walk away just say something SAY SOMETHING
He was hoping for a miracle that he knew in his heart was not going to come. He felt himself turning in, withdrawing, slinking back inside himself – what could he do? Beg a few minutes to be on his own, cover his eyes and pretend he lived in lonely darkness? Take an hour calming down just to face Die and get tongue-tied all over again?
There had been a time when he had been insistent that he'd wanted to spend his whole life like he was suspended, safe and alone in his own private place with nobody to speak with, nobody to touch – but he wanted Die to touch him. He did. And in making that confession, he had broken down something inside himself: he wanted it so badly he shook with it.
So he did the only thing he thought he could do, and took Die's hand. And the two sat quietly on the bed, Die smoking thoughtfully and Shinya hunched, curling into himself ashamedly.
“I don't know all about it,” Die said at last. “What to do, and stuff. But I wanna know. I think – I want to know. I want to learn about it with you.”
His serious expression broke and he smiled suddenly. “You're so smart,” he said simply.
With that, he twisted slightly on the bed and set his slowly-burning joint down in the ashtray. He felt gently stoned and it made the pot smell very powerful and rich, and he had the impression of parting a little curtain of smoke before he could touch Shinya's hair. He smoothed it carefully around his face and let it slip through his fingers, enjoying the feel of it. He could feel how hot the other man's skin was, and the tenseness in his jaw, and very cautiously he leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.
That was it – just a light, chaste kiss, but it left a timid smile in its wake. It left a good feeling, like a buzz between them – alright, Die was stoned. But when Shinya's smile nudged his cheek in return, he could have sworn he was flying on something stronger; when they each performed the subtle shift that would bring their lips together, he could have sworn he was on crack, on ecstasy; could have sworn his veins were pumping pure heroin. Shinya's lips were so warm and pliant under his own, so shy and yet so steady. It was the easiest thing in the world to touch him; to take his arms and run his hands up that smooth skin, nudging back the stupidly long sleeves of the oversized T-shirt he was wearing; once he had started, it seemed impossible to stop.
I don't know how either.
Those words were on the tip of Shinya's tongue, skittering tentatively over Die's lower lip. They were on the tips of his fingers, pressing hesitantly at the hem of Die's shirt.
But those words could wait, Shinya thought, grinning into the kiss despite himself; suddenly, he felt like he wanted to be kissed for his whole life, beginning to end, just sweet and still like he was.
The words could wait. They had time.
A/N: PLEASE NOTE that odd chapters of this fic are now friends-only. A full explanation of why is given here. If you plan to carry on reading this fic then please be sure to check it out, because the next chapter will absolutely definitely be friends-locked.
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no subject
Date: 2013-08-29 10:05 pm (UTC)From:He took another deep toke and let it out slowly. Whatever happened now, he thought lazily, it was completely out of his control.
There was a kind of luxury in that.
Bery King-esque and laid back. I liked that.
And Shinya, Shinya, oh Shinya.. I love how absolutely stunned he was to hear Die say this. For once, he didn't have an answer or a quick reply, he was just frozen there, trying to make himself say something. Cute, really cute. And really Shinya. That "what am I doing here?" kind of thing.
And let me just say that, balls deep activities put aside, I'd love to be a man and have Kyo do that to me. Well, in fact, let's bring the balls deep thing back for a while. But, damn... Big bad yakuza going down on broken Toshiya, the knowledge is kind of hot. I love how Toshiya brings out the gentleness in Kyo without even trying. Kyo just wants to...
and Kyo swallowing... *groans* I didn't know it could sound so interesting, because it's Kyo, you know.. but... it IS Kyo after all...And Miyu... ⥠Oh, Miyu, you cute thing, scaring Die like that :P
no subject
Date: 2013-08-29 10:20 pm (UTC)From:Also, part of me just really enjoys writing Die addled on soft drugs. I think this is the second time he's smoked pot in this fic. I can so easily imagine him as a stoner, it's not even funny.
Then again, I love the smell of it, so there is that. But I find it really weird to kiss people if I'm stoned. Being on pot makes taking a shower a fucking magical experience so kissing is just too much.
Also hilarious.Miyu...dogs are my biggest fandom. A+
Thanks as always, darling! <3
Also this balls deep thing is developing a life of its own. BALLS BALLS BALLS
no subject
Date: 2013-08-29 10:40 pm (UTC)From:I really need to try writing Kyo. Who knows how he will turn out?
Die kind of looks like he would do drugs like that. When you look at him and his easy going smiles, it's easy to think that he is either really happy all the time, or that those stupid grins are drug-induced.
Miyu would maybe enjoy that dane/chihuahua show. But then again, maybe Miyu is as shy as her master.
BALLS. EL Barba's balls. (Ew, just imagined them with a Mexican hairstyle. Yes. His balls. Do they have mini sombreros, too?)
no subject
Date: 2013-08-29 10:56 pm (UTC)From:I'm protesting as if I haven't written things involving Kaoru's balls before. I totally have.
Miyu? What a fucking pervert. I'm worried that within this post, there is actually no visible context for this dane/chihuahua show thing, which makes you and I look...shady. Very, very...shady.
As for writing sex scenes, this fic is the first fic where I've actually looked forward to writing the sex scenes. The KT in this fic has come really naturally and it's been SO GREAT. So this means I'm clearly planning more KT scenes in the future, and there's probably going to be more spanking because...why not. Why the hell not.
And yes! I love reading Kyo; I think it's so interesting how differently other writers portray him. Wriiiite Kyo!
no subject
Date: 2013-08-30 11:02 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2013-08-30 11:08 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2013-08-30 11:21 pm (UTC)From:Can't wait for more. I have actually been home sick the past two days so ANYTHING to keep me occupied is great. I had forgotten what it's like to not have work take up 99% of my time!
no subject
Date: 2013-08-30 11:48 pm (UTC)From:Well, thank you very much. After throwing a few minor hissy fits about people reading and not commenting, I've kind of made some peace with it. I decided that the best thing I could do was just to spread some good karma by commenting when I think somebody's work is good, and by just trying to inspire people to share their thoughts by doing the best I can with this fic. You don't get what you don't earn, right?
But I think I'm really one of the lucky ones. I have some really nice people leaving me great feedback and being really encouraging, so I'm super super grateful for that!
And now you just became one of those people, so thank you so much! Sorry for writing you a mini-essay; apparently time flies when I'm talking about myself. Feel better!
no subject
Date: 2013-08-31 12:09 am (UTC)From:Yeah, time off sick does stink. I actually had 2+ weeks off from the office I normally work in. This week I was supposed to work in a separate branch to pad my personal time and this happens. I really dislike when things don't go according to plan. Oh well...
no subject
Date: 2013-09-17 07:59 am (UTC)From:And I feel like after the incident Kyo is just more frustrated with the relationship between him and Toshiya.