Chapter 1: A word about the Shimada brothers
Hello, dear readers!
I wanted to write some more shimadacest, hopefully something a bit more lighter than the previous fic I wrote, and also a place to pour random yakuza trivia.
So here I am, with a brand new story! I tagged "dark comedy" because this story will probably be a bit silly and that's the best I can describe it, but please note that I am Finnish and to me comedy is the backstory of a popular (suicide)hanging tree.
I hope you enjoy this one, and maybe leave some kudos and comments. I'm always happy to hear from you.
I also have a tumblr.
Oftentimes Genji was envious of his older brother and how he seemed to attain everything that was desired of them. They might have competed on equal level in martial arts, which ever they picked, but fighting skills were not the only thing asked of a Shimada man; there was their family history rich with legends to live up to, and endless lectures of the very narrow path in shadows they had to walk. They were to be absolutely loyal to the clan, to choose honor and obligation over human desires and temptations, and to carry on the clan's tradition the same way their ancestors had done for centuries. They were links in a chain, parts of something greater than themselves and they were to do everything in their power to carry that on with pride and honor.
To Hanzo this seemed to come effortlessly, to Genji not so much.
Maybe Shimada blood ran thin in Genji's veins, or maybe he had been spoiled too much as a baby like Hanzo claimed, but he struggled to fall in line. He knew he should have, he knew it was a great honor, but to be honest something being “a great honor” didn't really move Genji's opinion to one way or another. The way the rest of the men of his family spoke of it made honor sound like it was some sort of an enlightenment, something physical and real that had fallen over their shoulders from the high heavens, but Genji didn't feel any of it. He had no idea what it was that his brother felt to make him this driven and disciplined, and all Genji was left with was mimicking him.
Genji did rather what his own living beating heart wanted instead of what his long dead ancestors would have probably approved of, and to him this seemed much more sensible than worshiping ashes. The clan elders, Father and his only brother might have all disapproved of this, but Genji knew how to walk the fine line between testing the clan's patience and throwing traditions to their faces. Genji knew he was smart and he knew how to make amends, and though he begrudgingly admitted that a no small part of that wisdom was due to their family business and Father's teachings, he shamelessly used those skills for his own ends even if it might have made a little bit of a hypocrite out of him.
Walking the fine lines of social relations and making amends was a precious talent though, and Genji took great pride in how it evened the scales between him and his perfect older brother, because if there was one thing Hanzo was completely inept in it was the fine art of social relations. If there indeed was some cosmic scale of honor Genji knew he was raking up points against his brother solely by keeping him out of useless arguments and balancing out his stupid plunders before they escalated into a full-blown fight that would result in some people losing head and fingers. Somehow Genji felt that Hanzo had been born into the wrong century and that he would have done much better back in the time of civil wars or as a ruthless conqueror because he was just as unable to learn the way of bar chatter and just enough banter with the rival clan members as Genji was feeling the blessed cloak of honor and duty.
But Genji couldn't always be there by Hanzo's side to filter out his blunt words and too honest comments, especially when his older brother chose to drink. Despite his proper and disciplined ways in every other moment of his life, Hanzo was a mean drunk. The more he drank the more irritated and rowdy he got, and as it would happen the series of very uncomfortable and nasty events involving some very compromising information was sparked because Hanzo drank a bottle of sake and decided to open his mouth.
Chapter 2: Love on schedule
I tagged "porn with plot". Here's the porn. Please enjoy.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Hanzo stepped out of the taxi three blocks away and walked the rest of the way to the hotel. He walked the street like he wasn't up to anything but the regular everyday business but a block away from the hotel he dodged into the alleys and slinked to his destination through the back so he could avoid even the moderately lit, narrow parking spaces discreetly shielded from the main road.
Checking into a love hotel was shady enough in itself but Hanzo never stopped feeling grateful for the practice that was in place. In Hanamura alone there were dozens upon dozens of love hotels in business and he seldom visited the same place twice, and the chance to choose so freely and without a clear routine or a pattern forming put his mind at ease. Sometimes it felt like love hotels were in business especially for him.
Hanzo always picked a place where he didn't need to face the staff. After stepping into the lobby he faced a large, lit board with the rooming options and a vending machine attached to it, but no staff or even other visitors anywhere in sight. He hastily glanced through the list of options, picked a moderately priced, average room and reserved it for four hours, anxious to get out of the lobby and away from hypothetical prying eyes. The vending machine coughed out a key, Hanzo picked it up and slinked into the stairs leading to the corridors and the rooms.
While he was climbing the stairs he fished his phone out of his jacket's breast-pocket and checked his messages. There was just one, and it read: ”Soon there.” It had been sent ten minutes ago. Hanzo typed back the number of the room.
It had been a rough night and a long day already and Hanzo felt irritated and slightly tired, and because of it he felt temped to send a passive-aggressive ”hurry up” message after the room number but held himself back. He knew from experience that he just needed some rest and stress-relief, and lashing out now at the one person who would be willing to give him that would be counter-productive. Especially since he knew the person was just as anxious to get to him as he was to get the person here.
And patience paid off in the end. Hanzo had just arrived at the fifth floor where the room was and was making his way through the carpeted corridor when hasty footsteps caught up with him and a very out of breath Genji burst from the staircase into the corridor. Hanzo had instinctively spun around when he heard the noise and his heart leaped at the sight when they locked eyes.
Genji had had his feathers slightly ruffled: his green hair was sticking up instead of being combed back, his black suit was wrinkled and had bleach stains on his trousers, and his bright red Hawaii-styled dress-shirt had its two upper buttons open and sweat stains in the armpits. And yet Genji was a very welcome sight, his equally exhausted expression lightened up the second he saw Hanzo there, and after a second of staring he practically dashed across the corridor to him.
Hanzo was torn between opening the door and greeting Genji properly and was caught between decisions with his right hand reaching towards the door behind him and his left towards Genji when the younger one threw himself at him, knocking some of his breath out.
Genji let out a loud, relieved sigh when he got his arms around Hanzo's neck and squeezed, hanging against his older brother and pressing his face into his neck. Hanzo wobbled under the weight and let himself lean his back against the door for support. He had been about to scold the younger one but the relief Genji seemed to feel was mutual so Hanzo decided to just enjoy the moment and wrap the other in his arms just as tightly as he was held.
”It's been forever,” Genji whined into his neck.
”It's been three weeks,” Hanzo said.
”Yeah. Forever,” Genji replied.
Hanzo couldn't argue. It had been a long day for him, but it would have been more truthful so say it had been a long three weeks. He and Genji had had separate duties and a lot of work and they had barely even seen each other for the past three weeks save for having dinner at home a few times and sometimes passing each other at the office of the clan or at home. Having finally succeeded at making this meeting happen was a minor miracle and a great relief for both of them.
”...Yes, forever,” Hanzo finally agreed and squeezed Genji against him tighter to show how much he had missed him, and Genji let out another heartfelt sigh.
The death-grip of Genji's arms was slightly loosening and his left hand dived into Hanzo's hair, lazily rubbing at his scalp and combing through it. His forehead bumped against Hanzo's cheek and he hummed contently. ”That's what I thought. It's been lonely without you, Nii-san.”
”Mm. Same here,” Hanzo answered quietly. It had been long, he was feeling shaky and weak just from having his hair stroked. His eyelids felt droopy and his suit felt heavy and itchy all of sudden. He wanted out of it already and to feel that gentle touch on his skin. He leaned his head against Genji's and pulled him closer, let his hands trail downwards on Genji's back and pressed them into full-body contact.
Genji jumped a bit, pushing Hanzo tighter against the door with the motion and and let out a startled shaky breath, but when he sought out eye-contact again his gaze was everything but startled. He looked determined and hungry, his eyes dark and cheeks red, and suddenly he was pushing his face towards Hanzo's.
Hanzo dodged and glanced around the corridor, alert. ”What are you doing?!” he hissed under his breath. ”We're not in the room yet.”
Genji took a hold of Hanzo's chin and turned him towards him again, breathing on his mouth. ”Relax, there's no one here. C'mon, didn't you miss me? I missed you. I missed you a lot.”
He mumbled the words practically against Hanzo's mouth, their lips brushing and breaths mingling and Genji's dark eyes peering up at him, and Hanzo felt all his resistance melting away. He closed his eyes and surrender to the kiss.
Genji's hand stayed in Hanzo's hair as they kissed. Hanzo felt himself growing slack and turning hot under his collar, his body sensitive and eager after three weeks of total loneliness, and Genji just as eager as he kept serving him wet open-mouthed kisses with the tip of his tongue occasionally probing at his mouth. Genji was melting against him and molding into the curves of his body without any coaxing, and Hanzo loosened his arms from around him and slipped them to his front, creeping under his suit jacket. The shirt Genji was wearing was damp and thin when Hanzo pressed his palms against him, so thin he could almost be touching bare skin already.
The thought made a current snap through him like static electricity, and the same current prompted Hanzo to tilt his head and open his mouth to deepen their kiss. Genji hummed against his mouth and pushed against him insistingly, his lips and tongue trying to taste him and his hips rubbing up against him. His left hand was still deep in Hanzo's hair but the right one roamed, rubbing at his back and feeling its way down, stopping at the belt but reaching lower again to palm at his backside and prompting him to push against his rocking hips.
Hanzo's face burned and his head was swimming, but even through that haze a thought pushed through: Anyone could see us. We're exposed.
”Genji,” Hanzo spoke into the kiss, muffled. ”Genji, we have a room.”
”Uh-huh,” Genji breathed while lewdly licking at Hanzo's lower lip.
Hanzo turned his face away to fumble with the key again, but opening a door while having his back to it proved difficult. Genji leaned against him and wrapped his arms around his neck while watching his struggle. ”For how long?” he asked.
”Four hours,” Hanzo replied and finally managed to open the door, and they half fell, half stumbled inside. The door shut and locked behind them.
”Four hours, ugh,” Genji whined but soon swallowed his complaints. ”That'll do.”
Hanzo tried lighting the lamps in the ceiling but the room ended up illuminated almost painfully brightly and made him feel exposed as if he was already naked so he switched it off and instead walked to the bed and lit one of the bed-side lamps. Turning back to Genji after turning his back once to him was difficult but Hanzo did so anyway, glancing at him through his bangs.
Genji was lingering by the door and toeing his shoes off while hastily looking around the room. Hanzo felt his skin prickle in self-consciousness. He had picked a moderately priced average room with a bed and a bath but with the essentials also came an aesthetic, something one couldn't avoid in love hotels: This room was moderately tame, furnished in Western style and trying to appear luxurious, the floor was carpeted and the room was decorated with deep red poppy and rose patterns, shining dark wood and silk pillows on the bed. Hanzo stood by the bed awkwardly and waiting for the situation to evolve in someway or for Genji to say something, maybe joke about the room even though he already knew the younger didn't care about their surroundings any more than he did.
Genji didn't make a comment, just pushed his shoes against the wall and shook off his suit jacket, tossing it onto a delicate looking fake antique chair by the door. He took a few careful steps further inside the room but stopped in the middle, swaying on his feet and picking at his hands. No matter how many times they did this or how little time they had it was always a little bit odd, especially with this much space between them.
Genji cleared his throat softly and jerked his head towards the bathroom. “I... I think I'll do a little washing first. I'll be quick.” Then he strode to the bath and closed the door behind him, leaving Hanzo alone by the bed.
The sound of a tap running behind the thin wall echoed, and Hanzo lingered on his place wondering how long Genji would take and what he should do in the mean time. The burning and tingling from their tangling in the hallway was still there, making him feel restless and a little warm, and after Genji's aggressive kisses Hanzo felt his lips swollen and tender, and the dry skin was easy to peel off with his teeth.
He took his jacket off too and went to put it on the same chair as Genji's. He took off his shoes and put them next to the other pair, then walked back to the spot by the bed he felt like he had claimed for himself by turning the lamp on. He debated sitting down but felt too anxious to do so.
The bathroom door opened and Genji stepped out. He had apparently been washing his hands as was evident in how the sleeves of his dress-shirt were rolled up to his elbows. They locked eyes, and now after washing Genji looked a bit more relaxed. Either he had rid himself of the feeling of dirt or putting a closed door between them had fanned enough honest longing alive again, because Genji stared at Hanzo with almost tender gaze and a small smile, a stark contrast to his funeral black suit and obnoxious shirt, hair-style and gold earrings.
Genji bowed his head and circled the bed, making his way towards Hanzo all the while smiling at him from under his brows, almost innocent looking. Innocent and eager. Hanzo swallowed. He wanted to reach out to Genji.
Genji stopped toe to toe with Hanzo and smiled at him softly. “Sorry. It's been a shitty day.”
“I see. For me, too,” Hanzo replied. He didn't really want to ask about Genji's day, it was probably just like the thousand other shitty days they both had had at his line of work, and after all they were here now. He lifted one hand to Genji's jaw and softly stroked his cheek with his thumb.
Genji's expression turned even softer but his eyes shifted darker, and he leaned forward. He raised both his hands and started to undo the buttons of Hanzo's shirt. “No time to waste, right?”
“Yeah,” Hanzo breathed. He felt himself tremble slightly as a button after button came undone under Genji's hands. The more his shirt fell open the more exposed he felt, and the sensation burned him in so many ways he had to close his eyes. He reached out with his own hands to return the favor.
They unbuttoned each other's shirts and pushed them off their shoulders in silent tandem. The garments dropped onto the floor, and Hanzo opened his eyes again, finding Genji staring up at him and biting his lip. Hanzo felt a wave of protectiveness coming over him and reached up to cup Genji's face in his palms.
“It's okay,” he whispered to him before leaning in to kiss him.
This kiss wasn't the same biting frenzy as the first one they has shared in the corridor full of pent up tension and desire after weeks apart, but the same hunger was thrumming in it nonetheless. They kissed with open mouths, slotting their lips together and winding around each other again, swaying on place and trying to get closer. Genji was back with his panting breath and tongue, probing between Hanzo's lips and licking at the inside of his lower lip as if trying to drink him up, arms wrapping tightly around his waist and pulling them together.
Hanzo pushed his knee in between Genji's legs while yanking him up against him, making him mount his thigh and cling on him tighter to stay there. The motion forced Genji to stand up straight and a whine left his throat as he wiggled his hips against the limb between his legs, dragging up and down and really giving Hanzo a chance to feel the growing hardness there.
Hanzo palmed Genji's bare back, gently massaging the stiff muscles and encouraging his rocking rhythm. Genji was breathing heavily, already too heavily to kiss anymore, just fumbling with open lips against his, and soon quiet, deep moans joined the breathing. Hanzo pushed his thigh snugly into Genji's crotch and savored Genji's moans and the way his wet breaths puffed against his face and his hands restlessly scrabbled at him, searching for support.
“Nii-san,” Genji managed to say in between his moans, “Nii-san, the bed...”
“Yes,” Hanzo replied. He didn't need the other to explain, he just acted. He relented the pressure of his thigh and took a hold of Genji's arms, turned his back to the bed and pushed him down on it, then climbed after him.
Genji let out a relieved breath when his back hit the soft mattress. He wiggled on his back to get in the middle of the bed, and Hanzo crawled after him on his hands and knees. They shifted and turned so neither one's feet hanged off the bed, then stopped to gaze at one another again.
Genji peered up at Hanzo with a pursed half smile on his face, his hands resting on Hanzo's shoulders and fingers reaching to toy with a loose strand of hair that had fallen from back to front.
Genji studied Hanzo's face for a while, then looked down at himself and looked up again with a wicked look on his face. “I'm wearing too much clothes.”
Hanzo rolled his eyes and bent down to kiss Genji's forehead. “Have patience.”
Genji snorted and wrinkled his nose at the comment. “Nii-san, we don't have time to waste!”
“We've got four hours. We got plenty.” If there were any further arguments coming Hanzo silenced them before they had time to form by kissing Genji on the lips again, and the younger gave up on them in order to get back to business. He let out a happy whine into the kiss, hands wandering from Hanzo's shoulders down onto his chest and caressing every curve and dip he came across, absentmindedly toying with a nipple when he brushed by them but too unfocused to actually stimulate them properly.
Hanzo pushed Genji's legs apart with his knee and crawled in between them, carefully laying down on top of him without breaking their sloppy kissing. Genji welcomed him eagerly, and his hands slipped from Hanzo's chest down to his back where he reached for his hips and backside, trying to guide him better against him to get back the sweet pressure and rocking motion his thigh had given him while they were still standing. Hanzo indulged Genji gladly, shifting and turning where he wanted him to while surrendering his mouth to Genji's aggressive deep kisses, happy to just wrap him in his arms and let him to trap him between his thighs in return.
But no matter how snug and warm they were like that, there were more urgent needs building up and those weren't satisfied with deep kisses and light grinding. Hanzo felt his arousal as a throbbing graving between his legs and a tightening knot in the bottom of his stomach, and his trousers had felt itchy, hot and uncomfortably tight for a while now. Genji was making whining sounds beneath him again, and when he opened his eyes to look he saw his face in a drunken state of euphoria, his skin red and sweaty and his eyes closed. Genji was grinding his erection against his through their trousers while suckling on his tongue, and Hanzo knew Genji like this would be perfectly content to do just that and come in his pants.
Hanzo pulled his mouth free and licked his lips, causing Genji to first try to chase after him and when failing opening his eyes to pout at him.
Hanzo had to smile at the sight. “Too many clothes,” he said, repeating his brother's words back at him.
Genji snorted at that, didn't comment but reached down to undo his trousers.
Hanzo sat back at his heels to give Genji some room and do the same for himself. What followed was an awkward few minuted when they fought their way out of their trousers, underwear and socks while still being somewhat entangled into each other and trying to throw their clothes off the bed without kicking each other in the process.
Nudity scared Hanzo if he was perfectly honest to himself, and the way Genji was so relaxed and natural with it only highlighted his awkward shyness. Genji was kicking the covers off the bed at the same time he was trying to get comfortable on it, and Hanzo decided to help him. The cotton sheets and actual blankets and pillows called to them with promises of coziness and comfort that they would get only in places like this, and after some kicking and arranging they managed to build something resembling a nest.
Genji flipped onto his back in the middle of the pillows and the blanket walls, and Hanzo crawled next to him in their make-belief safe place, much like the blanket forts they had built when they were kids.
They lay side by side peering at each other's faces, and for a moment both could forget the tension and the coiling arousal burning their bodies. They just enjoyed each other, the closeness and the warmth.
But the need won over it as it did every time, and Hanzo pushed himself up with his elbow, bent over Genji and leaned down to kiss his lips, then his cheeks and slowly trailing down his neck. Genji loved it when his neck was kissed, and he tilted his chin up to give him more room. He sighed and wrapped his arms around the older one's neck, one hand combing through his hair.
“C'mon,” Genji whispered, impatient. “C'mon, I need you. I want to touch you.”
“I am touching you,” Hanzo teasingly mumbled into Genji's neck, but at the same time pushed closer. Genji huffed, and his hands were ghosting over Hanzo's sides, making him shiver at the light touch. The throbbing between his legs was turning into an ache, and judging by the grunts and whines Genji shared the feeling.
“Oh c'mon already,” Genji hissed and without any other warning pulled Hanzo by the hips against him.
The sudden contact startled a moan out of Hanzo, louder than he could have predicted, and he felt a flash of embarrassment going through him and making his face burn. Genji just snickered up at him, and Hanzo took his revenge by rolling his hips against Genji's, turning the mischievous laugh into a moan.
Genji bucked up against him and hummed in the back of his throat. “There,” he muttered and rocked up, and Hanzo didn't need to ask for specifics to know to keep doing what he was doing now. He licked and kissed at the side of Genji's neck, making him jump and rock up against him that much harder and enjoyed the way Genji's fumbling hands searched support from his hips.
Genji's palms were sweaty and he kept rubbing and yanking at Hanzo to make him bear down on him harder, but their position was a difficult one and without their hands guiding them they couldn't really get the pressure or the friction where it was needed. Still, the tip of Genji's cock left a confused trail of wetness on Hanzo's lower belly as they rocked against each other, and Hanzo knew he was doing the same in return. It felt good, sending a soft tingling feeling rattling lose in his gut, but whatever it was building wasn't enough.
Hanzo was straddling Genji and now let his knees slip further apart, seating himself more firmly on Genji's thighs and gaining more leverage to push against him. Genji let out a long, almost suffering groan at the shift of pressure and force, and the hand he had in Hanzo's hair turned into a fist and pressed Hanzo's face firmly against the side of his neck.
“Go ahead,” Genji panted, “no one will know it was you.”
Hanzo had an educated guess at what Genji meant and took it as the much needed push to sink his teeth into the tan flesh of his neck and sucked. Genji moaned in appreciation and pushed Hanzo's face even more firmly into his neck, and at the same time his hips jumped up like prompted by an electric shock. Hanzo rocked down just as forcefully and worried the skin of the other's neck with his teeth and tongue, suckling and biting and tasting the sweat brimming there, knowing that he was about to make spots of blue and purple bloom there. No one will know.
Fumbling around the covers they had piled around themselves Genji was clearly blindly searching for something, and soon found. When his right hand returned to rest against Hanzo's side, it had something squeezed inside the fist, but Genji was too busy rocking up at him and enjoying having his neck chewed out to address it. Hanzo already knew what the little plastic tube was, and the associations made all the little traces of his previous shyness vanish, leaving only urgent need and hunger behind. He wanted closer already.
He wanted it so much he couldn't hold himself back any longer but let his weight drop forward and leaned against Genji's chest instead of on his own arm, and pushed that freed arm between their bodies and reached down to Genji's cock. His fingers met the wet tip and from there he traced them down the shaft, guiding it against his palm and squeezed his hand around it. Genji stopped breathing and just shook for a moment.
Hanzo started to move his hand in lazy pumping motions but kept his eyes on Genji's face the whole time. He altered his rhythm and grip, sometimes just flicking his wrist and something dragging his fist all the way from base to tip, fingers fondling and caressing, and Genji stared up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, his gleaming wet lips round and letting out gasps and low moans. Occasionally his tongue darted out to lick his lips, sometimes he bit at them or suckled at the lower one for a while, but he didn't ask for anything nor did his eyes ever leave Hanzo's.
It was a dizzying feeling to have Genji like this, on his back and trapped between his legs, and Hanzo felt almost possessive while he watched him writhe and wiggle while he jerked him off. He could almost ignore the ache in his own groin when he got to lean over Genji and do this to him, just drown him in pleasure while keeping him snug and secure under his thighs.
His thoughts were running amok and his hand worked almost on its own, jerking and squeezing and making Genji turn redder in the face by every passing minute. Hanzo squeezed with his thighs to force Genji's legs together just to make a point and sped up with his hand. Genji groaned in appreciation and finally his eyes glazed over and lost focus, and his red bitten lips parted more to let out louder sounds. He wasn't even squirming anymore, but pumping his hips with intention.
Genji's voice climbed higher and became thinner, his deep moans slowly turning into breathy whines and trembling panting, and Hanzo knew he was only moment away form coming. Genji's arms lay slack above his head, the right hand palm up by his face, and as his hips gained momentum he turned his face a bit and slipped two of his own fingers into his mouth. He didn't bite on them but sucked them in, the tip of his tongue peeking out on his lower lip as he pulled the tips of his fingers into his mouth and sucked them in all the way to the second knuckles. He whined and moaned around his fingers that were quickly becoming covered with saliva, his hips were rocking like a tide in the rhythm of Hanzo's hand, he was flushed and almost completely slack except for his hips, and Hanzo swore he could have watched him like that the entire night.
Genji didn't see him anymore, he was too sunken in his own sensation and chasing the peak that was just outside his reach, drooling on his own fingers and making a small wet spot on the sheet, and then his back bowed off the bed and he let out a long rich moan that was muffled around his fingers and he was coming. His hips jerked up almost compulsively when his cock shot out several spurts of come on his stomach and chest, and Hanzo stroked him through it until the last drop squeezed out from the tip.
Genji was panting and enjoying his high, and his wet fingers slipped out of his mouth leaving a string of spit behind. He was slowly coming back down and blinked a few times before tilting his face towards Hanzo again, offering him a drunken smile.
“Again,” he said.
He sat up, forcing Hanzo to lean back and sit back at his thighs, wrapped his arms snug around his neck and flopped them both down on their sides on the bed. Hanzo went where he was dragged, didn't mind it at all, just kept his palms flat at Genji's back and lightly pet him. They ended up in the middle of the blankets and covers, arms loosely around each other and almost peaceful yet everything but done with each other.
Genji didn't seem to mind the mess on his chest and stomach, and rolled his hips and softening cock against Hanzo. “You're not done,” he remarked.
The friction almost burned on his sensitive skin, and Hanzo bit on his lips to keep a groan from escaping but couldn't stop his hips from bucking up at the contact. Genji smirked.
“Yeah, I'm not. You're too fast,” Hanzo replied, making Genji wrinkle his nose at him.
“That's mean, Nii-san,” Genji said and stuck out his tongue.
“Mm-hm.” Hanzo trailed his palm from Genji's back to his side and downwards from there, fingering at the curve of his hipbone and watched Genji growing more serious under his touch.
“Do what you want,” Genji urged him with a light shrug, his eyes slipping shut and cheeks turning redder again.
Hanzo pulled his elbow underneath himself and pushed himself up from his lazy laying position. “Roll over. I want to hold you.”
Genji smiled up at him without opening his eyes and rolled onto his belly, and Hanzo mounted his thighs. Genji reached over and grabbed the small tube of lube he had almost lost in the covers once before and handed it behind him to Hanzo, who received it without a comment.
Hanzo paused for a moment there and just watched. Genji was squirming minimally underneath him, probably pushing his toes into the sheets or under the covers, and pulled his arms under his torso to brace himself. He lay his head on the mattress, cheek against the sheet and stilled there with his eyes closed, and on his lean, muscular back a large green dragon stared up at Hanzo with its maw open and eyes blazing, bundled up like ready to charge right at him from the midst of the storm. Hanzo touched the dragon gently, traced its horns and mane with his fingertips and imagined he was pacifying it, swearing only friendship and kindness to it.
He opened the cap of the tube and tossed it aside carelessly. The tube was so small he would need all of its contents so the cap was useless, and it was better to just toss it on the floor than to find it by rolling onto it later. He squeezed almost half of the lube in the package onto his palm and slipped it between Genji's thighs just below his buttocks. He felt the younger shivering at the contact and letting out a little muffled whine, and glancing up he saw Genji already mouthing at his knuckles.
Hanzo spread the lube on a small area on Genji thighs and used his fingers to push most of it in between them, watching it turn the skin there wet and glistening and listening to Genji's deep breaths. Genji liked feeling wet like that, vulnerable and naked and passive while he was taken care of and prepared, he had confessed it once after a night like this when he had been a little bit drunk and a little bit high. He hadn't brought it up afterwards and Hanzo wasn't sure if he even remembered saying any of it, but regardless Hanzo knew which buttons to push and that was exactly what he did. He took his time with the lube, almost playing with it as he pushed his fingers between Genji's soft thighs and let him relish in the awareness of what he was doing and what was about to happen.
Genji's breath picked up and lost its composure while Hanzo fingered between his thighs and made sure the slick sounds of it were as loud as possible, and the back of his hand turned as shiny as his lubed up thighs as he mouthed at his knuckles and suckled on them, muffling the sounds he was making. Hanzo wondered if he was already hard again.
The rest of the tube's contents Hanzo squeezed into his palm and spread on his cock. The tube had warmed up first in Genji's fist and now in his hand, but still the lube felt almost cool on his cock that had been neglected this long. His breath shivered when he gasped while giving himself a few slow strokes, spreading the lube and taking the edge off the sensation before he leaned over Genji again, one hand braced just next to the younger's head on the mattress and the other one on his own cock.
Despite knowing to expect it Genji still twitched when the tip touched the back of his thighs. Hanzo guided himself where he wanted, pushed the tip between the other's thighs and then went on to find a better position. The lube made the glide soft and easy and he let his knees slip apart as he sank lower, moved his hands on the bed by Genji's sides and balanced his weight on all fours. His mouth fell open as he let his hips sink down and his cock slipped completely into the squeezing warmth. The lube wasn't cool anymore, providing just the perfect amount of slick, and the skin between Genji's thighs was smooth and soft like no other part of him, all deliciously warm and comfortable. But after the shockwave of the first wave of pleasure he stilled and had to realize it wasn't enough, and from his grouched position Hanzo couldn't use his knees the way he needed to.
“Genji, cross your ankles,” Hanzo said, patting Genji on the side of his thigh.
Genji made an acknowledging sound that was half a groan and shifted a bit, presumably like the other had asked him to. He hooked his ankle over the other and squeezed his thighs together more firmly, and Hanzo gasped.
“Better?” Genji asked.
Hanzo leaned the most of his weight on his knees and used the leverage to move his hips. The drag back was just as delicious as the first dive in, and Hanzo took his time with it. He leaned down and touched his forehead between Genji's shoulderblades right where the dragon was staring up at him, enjoyed the pressure and the wet slide as long as it lasted before sinking back down again, slipping back into the heat between the younger's legs and listened to the noises of slick skin against one another.
After waiting for this long and watching Genji reach his bliss once already had kept his on the edge and waiting, and now finally satisfying that ache was sending his mind swimming into hot haze that was better than any high, any drug or any other pleasure he could escape to. This was the best he could take, the absolutely priceless feeling, and the climb had only started.
Genji smelled of cologne and bleach and sweat, his body undeniably present intimately in contact with his. Hanzo inhaled those scent, filled his head with them and moaned into the younger's skin as he rocked his hips. Being grouched over a partner on their belly and fucking in between their thighs like this tugged at some primal cord inside him and made him even hotter inside, and the lewd sound the lube was making as his cock slipped in and out between the other's legs coaxed that flame even further. The mixture of clenching heat and wet caress on his cock felt heavenly, easing the impatiently throbbing need and turning it into pleasure, and the intensity of it was stealing breath from Hanzo's lungs and forcing him to pant to get it back. He rubbed his forehead between Genji's shoulderblades and kissed him there, kissed each softly jutting vertebra his lips found and kissed the snout of the snarling dragon.
The pumping motion of his hips was hard even on him, and he felt sweat brimming on his back and sliding down as he moved, but nothing in the world could have made him slow down. In the pit of his belly something was winding tighter, his skin felt electrified and his toes curled as he bucked down harder, faster, and then Genji clenched his thighs and their softness turned firm and Hanzo moaned out loud. The primal part of him had found its voice and refused to be silent again, and Hanzo didn't even mind anymore, all of his shyness and reservations vaporized, and he moaned again and again as he kept pumping down, reaching for the pleasure that had turned burning and spread like a drug in his system. His hair stuck into the sweat on his face as he mouthed at the salty skin of Genji's back, slowly sinking down on top of him until he found the curve of his neck again and sank his teeth into it.
Genji wasn't laying there all passive and quiet anymore either, he was rhythmically clenching and relaxing the muscles of his thighs and slightly rocking up to meet Hanzo's hard thrusts and making a pleased yet tense humming sound every time he was forced back down. He had the first two knuckles of his left hand inside his mouth and he was loudly sucking on them, the noise almost as loud as the ones coming from between his thighs and definitely just as lewd.
Hanzo nuzzled into the side of Genji's neck and the younger rubbed his cheek against his in response while moaning against his fist. Hanzo slipped his right hand under Genji's arm and grabbed a hold of his shoulder, lifting him up from the mattress and pressing him against his own chest. Genji's moan turned into a whine as he was lifted and his hand fell out of his mouth to support his body, now both of his hands on the bed and his upper body bent backwards into a curve with his cheek squished against the older one's forehead. He whined and moaned as Hanzo moved even though the sensation couldn't have been much more than teasingly arousing as the other took his pleasure, but being held like this might have just pushed it to be that much more.
The position was harsh and tougher to maintain, but Hanzo was getting close and holding Genji like this felt too good to give up, and so he just kept holding him and kept fucking into the tight wetness between his legs already feeling the electric tingling starting from the tip of his toes and in the bottom of his stomach, promising bliss soon, so soon. And then he got an idea, now that he already had his other hand on Genji's shoulder and Genji was supporting his own weight for the most part, and so he let go his hold on his shoulder and reached up to brush his fingers against his cheek. He didn't need to say anything as Genji seemed to read his mind and turned his head towards the touch, and then Hanzo felt a short caress from the tip of a tongue on his middle and index fingers before Genji took them into his mouth.
Genji's mouth was hot, wet and soft, he was tender yet vigorous as he started to suck, not even a hint of teeth anywhere, just his soft cheeks and the bed of his tongue. He didn't even bop his head, just swallowed the fingers into his mouth and let them rest there as his tongue lolled over them and he suckled on them like he was trying to force them into his throat.
It was easy for Hanzo to imagine the caress of Genji's mouth down on his cock, and the fantasy joined into the blazing haze filling his head. Genji was moaning now non-stop in his throat, his lips tightly sealed around Hanzo's fingers, and he was squeezing his thighs together and bucking up like urging the other on to go that last stretch before completion. Genji was most definitely hard again, there was no doubt about it, and the blush from his face reached his ears and the back of his neck.
Hanzo wiggled his fingers in Genji's mouth a little, rubbing them against his tongue, and finally he felt the blinding whiteness creeping at the edge of his vision and forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut. The wet heat and compression around his cock and the desperation which Genji sucked on his fingers with became too much in one tilt of the world, all the knots inside him came lose at once, and Hanzo came with a startled gasp and a long moan, spilling first between Genji's thighs and a little on their backs. He watched his come make a mess on Genji's pale legs as he loosened his hold on him and sat back, finally giving a break to his knees and arms and trying to catch his breath as the afterglow settled over him.
Genji fell back on his front of the mattress, one hand reaching behind him and touching at the mess drizzled down his thighs. He lay there, limp and sweaty and his cheek squished against the mattress and with drool all over his jaw, and then he opened his eye and looked up at Hanzo through a curtain of sweaty green hair. Cheeks and lips red, jaw glistening and one dark eye peering up at Hanzo he pushed his hand underneath himself and into his groin.
Hanzo sat at Genji's thighs and watched as his hips started to move again, lazily humping down into his fist and the mattress but with such intensity Hanzo guessed he had enjoyed the previous minutes very much.
Genji kept watching him but the gaze was hazy, he just wanted his pleasure and the wait had made him shameless, the humping movements of his hips and the desperation in them plugging at that primal core within Hanzo that he had found earlier. Hanzo didn't lift a finger to help, simply stared back down at the other and reached out to place a hand to his hip just for the sake of it, not to urge or guide him, just to hold. His thumb brushed the small dimple in Genji's back.
When he came for the second time Genji didn't make a sound, just opened his swollen red lips wider and closed his eyes as he writhed and jerked on his place, his hand furiously rubbing at himself and making the most of his high, trying to prolong it as much as possible. And then it was over and he fell down limp again, this time for real.
Hanzo sat on his place for a second longer before climbing off Genji. He made a face as his sore muscles protested and he was certain his inner thighs would ache for at least a day. All of his limbs were trembling after the ordeal as he collapsed next to Genji. He lay on his front and let out a deep sigh, staring at the back of Genji's head and reached out to push his hand into his hair. There was gel and hairspray in Genji's hair, but still it was soft enough for him to push his fingers through it and massage his scalp. Hanzo just kept doing that for a good while, propped up his arm and supported his chin against his palm, peering down at Genji who was still out of it for now. The green dragon rose and fell with his breath.
Genji seemed to come back down and he turned his head towards Hanzo, watching him lazily through his bangs. Hanzo raised a brow at him, and Genji dropped his gaze before crawling closer to him and curling up against his chest. The nest of pillows and blankets felt safe now just like the pillow forts they had built as kids, but they both knew the moment would last only as long as they lingered in it and didn't break the spell with words. Hanzo pretended he didn't see Genji sneaking his hand into the cover of his curled up position and slipping his thumb in his mouth, just kept stroking his hair and stared over him to the side wall of the room, his head empty of any thought. The covers were around them instead of over them, but they were close enough, almost tangled into each other, to keep each other warm in the spacious room.
Hanzo tried to subtly wipe his right hand clean onto the sheets some place where neither one of them would roll on it, but even if he got rid of the remains of the lube the smell, stickiness and the feeling of dirtiness stayed, and he knew he'd need water and soap to get rid of those. The bathroom was tempting him with the promises of hot water and relief to his full bladder, but on the other hand here he was lying in bed with Genji and didn't know when would be the next chance to have another of these nights.
Eventually Genji made the choice for him by suddenly sitting up and getting up from the bed. “I'm going to the bathroom”, ha announced when he was already going, leaving Hanzo alone on the bed and closing the door behind him.
First the sound of a toilet and then the shower seeped through the thin wall into the bedroom, and Hanzo sat up on the edge of the bed and started to look for his phone. He hadn't thankfully gotten any messages or missed any calls, and when he checked the time to his relief noticed that they had a little over two hours left in the room before they'd have to get out. He tried to be careful when handling his phone but ended up getting lube and sperm stains on it anyway and tried to angrily wipe it clean on the sheets before dropping it on the bedside table. He wished Genji would hurry up and finish in the bathroom so he could at least wash his hands already, it was annoying to feel this dirty without anything to do about it. He made a mental note to bring wet towels or baby wipes with him the next time, something to ease the discomfort of sticky fingers and crusty skin while waiting for his turn in the bathroom. He hoped he'd remember in the next time.
In the end Genji didn't take up more than three minutes in the bathroom, and they passed each other at the door when they switched. Hanzo didn't bother with the shower, just emptied his bladder and then got washed up in the sink. Genji had no doubt showered to get his thighs and belly clean, and had left his towel on the wet floor in a bundle. Typical.
When Hanzo returned to the room Genji was back in the bed, still naked and on his front, swinging his legs in the air and his phone in his hands. He didn't lift his eyes from the screen when Hanzo entered the room or when he climbed back in bed with him. Just when the older settled on his side facing him did Genji lock his phone and look at him again.
Hanzo raised a brow. “Hi.”
Genji crossed his arms on the mattress and put his chin on them, blinking up at Hanzo almost playfully but without his usual mischief. He looked like he wanted something or was at least trying to say something, and so Hanzo waited patiently without asking. The wait paid off when Genji tilted his head, pursed his lips childishly and finally said: “Pet me.”
“You brat,” Hanzo scoffed but did as he was asked anyway. He put his hand on the back of Genji's head and gently pet his hair, sometimes stroking down to his neck and giving him a gentle scratch or two. Genji lay there, timid and relaxed and almost adorable, as far as that was possible for a young man of his size and nature with a blatantly obvious tattoo offensively glaring at his back. But this was Genji, his Genji, and when he was like this he was adorable, even if so only in the eyes of Hanzo who was close enough to see that, as he affectionately thought to himself.
“This is nice,” Genji murmured quietly, carefully shifting closer to Hanzo, his shoulder almost brushing against his chest.
“Yes, it is,” Hanzo agreed wholeheartedly and watched his comment make Genji smile. His heart throbbed with affection and for a second he felt like he couldn't caress Genji tender enough to communicate the feeling.
“We had to clean up a body with Kasamatsu tonight,” Genji suddenly said. “That's why I wasn't here earlier.”
So that was what the “shitty day” had been about. It wasn't a wonder that Genji hadn't wanted to talk about it earlier. “Is that so,” Hanzo said.
“Yeah. That one moron was dealing on Shimada territory again. Kiri-san lost his patience tonight and told me and Kasamatsu to clean up, and we had to bring the asshole a set of clean clothes too.”
Hanzo rolled his eyes. The men Genji was running with weren't exactly under Hanzo's supervision since he was already on higher tire than they were, but he could still empathize with Genji's frustration with others' incompetence and how others around them got the splatters when they screwed up.
“I hate it when they call you Aniki,” Genji muttered, suddenly bitter.
Surprised, Hanzo glanced down at him and met the almost angry stare of Genji's dark eyes.
“I get that the clan is a family,” Genji said quietly, “that Father is like a parent to all of us and that we are all brothers and sisters, I get it, I really do. But you are my brother for real. You are really a big brother only to me, no one else.” Saying that seemed to be harder to Genji than it had first seemed since his brow furrowed and his voice grew bitterer by every word, and maybe it was a trick of the light but his eyes seemed to gleam.
In a sudden wave of tenderness Hanzo reached out with both hands and took Genji's face in them, gently yet firmly cradling him, thumbs stroking his cheeks. “I know that,” he said, leaning in close. “I feel the same. It's not sake in our veins, it's blood. And whatever we are, whatever we do, and whatever we become, nothing will change that.”
Genji raised his hand to touch Hanzo's wrist. He didn't look angry anymore, but his eyes still gleamed. “Nii-san?”
Thank you for reading! If you liked this, leave kudos, and maybe even drop by in the comment section below to share your thoughts of this work.
Chapter 3: The crash
Hello, dear readers! Finally we have an update.
A moment of stupidity results in a quick punishment. We're in deep waters now.
Luckily the inhumane pressure of the past few weeks was finally relenting, and Hanzo actually got to sleep for six hours and weak up on his own futon at his own pace without anyone fussing or yelling. He was still wearing his suit trousers from last night, but his jacket and dress shirt had been spared the cruel treatment of being slept in. He didn't allow himself to stay under the covers for a moment after waking up but pushed himself up, folded the futon and piled his covers, sheets and the pillow on top of it and headed towards the bathroom for a quick washing before breakfast.
Cool water from the tap felt refreshing against his face that was covered in dried sweat that had simmered against his pillow all night, and Hanzo splashed some of it on his chest and neck too, rinsing himself quickly hoping to banish the worst of the possible smells. He felt around his cheeks, jaw and neck for stubble and found it in patches, and there was no denying that he needed a shave already. His beard had started to grow properly only during the last two years, and he needed to shave almost every morning in order to look neat, whereas Genji had been spared the ordeal and only had to go through the trouble once a week or so.
He felt a prickle of guilt and latent regret thinking of Genji now. Turning his head in front of the mirror and twisting his body as far as it would go Hanzo saw small purple spots along his neck and shoulder, as well as scratches on his back. He poked one of the purple spots hard enough to feel the familiar ache of a bruise and he didn't really know why he did so. He knew that they were bruises, he knew they were love bites, and he knew Genji had put them there the night before, and still like a curious cat he stuck his paw in them.
Hanzo wouldn't say he felt bad or regretful of what had happened, but the euphoria and joy from last night was crashing fast, leaving him with an empty throb in the gut that was like a mixture of disappointment and hangover. He wasn't disappointed in their tryst, he was disappointed that it was over again and the high it had provided was already gone and he was back in the real world.
He finished washing and went back to his room for clean clothes. He picked a different dress shirt and the same jacket from last night, took his katana from the floor where it had laid next to his futon and headed downstairs to the kitchen. There was no one there at the moment with all the service staff busy with other duties at this time of the day and his mother was most likely with them, but he found cold breakfast food in the fridge, in a bowl covered with plastic wrap and with a post-it note with his name on it. He didn't bother with sauces or miso, just took the bowl and a pair disposable chopsticks, shoveled the cold rice and fried fish in while standing and put the empty bowl in the sink.
He seriously hoped the clan and the life in Hanamura in general was now in for more stable times. So much grief could be caused by arguments about dealing territories and gambling money, and of course no one would admit to their own faults no matter what. It was selfish to let your own gambling habit drag your subordinates down with you, but admitting to a weakness like that was not an option and neither was criticizing their superiors to the ones being dragged.
Hanzo had gotten more and more reasons to admire their father as he had spent the last three weeks accompanying him to nearly every meeting in offices, clubs and restaurants to speak to the oyabuns of their allied clans, Shimada-gumi's generals, political allies, their allies in the police force, and various rival yakuza clans' representatives. Sojiro had such a perfect balance of negotiating, bribing, threatening and violence that Hanzo was still only reaching for, and after a few especially difficult, tense meetings Hanzo had found himself meekly hoping that father would live to be hundred years old and never retire so Hanzo wouldn't ever have to take all the reins from him.
And all that business had only been added on top of his regular responsibilities. For the past year Hanzo had been overseeing all the gambling houses Shimada-gumi ran, for practice father had said, and he spent the most of his time keeping an eye on the finances, big player customers and appointing the right people to treat the guests. Carrying money from one place to another and picking out the right kind of violent people for security was not what Hanzo particularly enjoyed doing, but he was good at pushing the pawns, and father was pleased that the income was on the rise thanks to him. A nod of acknowledgment from father was rare and Hanzo drank it up, but that alone didn't stop him from hoping for a hit job season.
The rest of the morning and most of the early afternoon Hanzo ran routine errands. He sent emails and visited accounting, checked on their credit card traffic and spent three hours just going over their numbers, and the entire time his katana followed him as a weight on his back or in his hand.
It was a little past four in the afternoon when he was making his way through the streets and back towards home when his phone buzzed in his trouser pocket. Hanzo didn't stop, just changed his katana from his right hand to the left, lifted it on his shoulder and took his phone out in case it was something important or urgent.
His phone screen showed a notification of two new messages from an unknown number, and as Hanzo was holding it a third one came through. He tapped in the security code and opened the messages.
You always pretend to be such a honorable warrior, Shimada Hanzo. You act like you're the only real yakuza and the only real man in all of Japan.
Well I always thought you're just a regular faggot with your girly hair and pretty face and silk clothes. A pretty, faggy rich boy, that's what everyone thinks of you.
So I followed you, but I found out you're so much worse than that. I have proof.
Hanzo's heart skipped a beat and he stopped suddenly in the middle of the street. He stared at his phone while trying to wrap his mind around what he was seeing there, but even though his heart thumped and his skin crawled with sudden cold sweat his mind refused to accept what he was witnessing.
Someone was messaging him from an unknown number, and otherwise Hanzo could have brushed it off as meaningless chatter or a prank on a dare, but the image that he was looking at didn't allow that to him. What he was looking at was a slightly unfocused picture, but one couldn't mistake the two men in it to be anyone else except Shimada Hanzo and Shimada Genji, in a corridor of a love hotel, in the middle of a passionate embrace and kissing.
There was no mistaking about it, the picture was clear enough, it was absolutely, simply damning. Even a tight embrace could have been explained away as something between close brothers, maybe drunk or particularly exhausted or maybe heartbroken, since no one would have wanted to believe anything else, but there was nothing brotherly about the way they were touching each other here. They were clearly kissing each other, lips locked and clinging to each other, in a love hotel.
Suddenly, Hanzo felt sick to his stomach. He felt his palms turning sweaty and for one wild moment he wanted to throw his phone away like something filthy as if that could undo the damage the extent of which Hanzo hadn't even fully realized yet. He just stood still as seconds dragged by, squeezing his phone in hand and staring at the sickening evidence of his actions in the dark, sent to him by a stranger. He felt chilly and clammy in his skin, sick and exposed, and finally he couldn't take it anymore: He sprang into motion, running through the streets and towards home.
He had to find Genji.
That was the only clear thought that made it through the haze in his head. Genji had to be informed about this as it involved them both, and along that thought came the realization that Genji was also the only one Hanzo even could tell about this. If anyone else found out, that would be disastrous.
Or did Genji already know? Had he received his own messages, his own insults and threats?
Or was this Genji's idea of a prank? Hanzo had been on the receiving end of Genji's sometimes spiteful humor many times, and even though this seemed too absurd, cruel and stupid he would have given anything to learn that this was just a joke. But even that would have required someone to take the picture...
Shimada castle came into view and Hanzo didn't even bother with going around through the gate but instead tied the katana on his back, climbed the wall and jumped over the deep moat and ended up rolling on the training grounds. He could still see his own arrows from his practice a week ago in the wooden targets, left there in a hurry and never retrieved, and he didn't stop to do that now either.
His feet itched with adrenaline and he wanted to continue running but held himself back in fear he would look suspicious. His phone burned in his trouser pocket and he felt like it was branding his thigh, leaving his secret out in the open for all to see.
Where was Genji? That was the question, and Hanzo speed-walked through the dojo, the yard and the gardens, climbed on the roofs to see better, then headed to the bathhouse, then the kitchen, all the while trying to appear determined and calm as if nothing was wrong when he passed the servants folding laundry and cleaning the floors and prayed he wouldn't run into father or – somehow even worse – mother since he was sure he couldn't look either one in the eye at the moment.
The more Hanzo looked the more desperate he felt: If Genji had already gone out there was no catching him before the evening, and the situation at hand really called for action without delay. The last place in the castle he looked for was Genji's bedroom that was right next to his own, and without any real hope Genji would still be there he didn't knock but just threw the door open.
The room was dark and the futon was still out, and to Hanzo's amazement there was a bump under the covers. Genji was still in bed and most likely asleep too, laying on his front like a starfish and breathing deep and steady, and suddenly Hanzo felt a burst of anger: it was late afternoon already and they had a crisis at hand, but the little prince was slumbering on.
“Genji! Wake up, you lazy brat!” Hanzo snapped, slammed the door shut behind him and strode to the futon, kicking his brother not too gently in the side.
Genji jolted and groaned, turning to his side and peering up at Hanzo, his eyes barely open and clearly irritated at the unkind disturbance. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked with a voice rough with sleep.
“For heaven's sake it's almost five in the afternoon!” Hanzo hissed at him, dropping on his knees next to the futon. “We have a situation, and this concerns both of us.”
Genji pushed himself up to his elbows, rubbing at his eyes. His green hair was sticking straight up except for the left side where it had been pressed flat against the pillow. “So what if it's almost five, I was tired. What's so urgent?”
Hanzo huffed in frustration and in a flash the sick feeling was back in his stomach. He shrugged the restricting katana off his back and let it thump on the tatami and fought to get his phone out of his pocket. While unlocking it and impatiently tapping at the message log Hanzo felt a curious mixture of anxiety and anger, like despite having been cornered by whoever was behind the unknown number he still held a small amount of power and that allowed him to burst Genji's lazy comfort. How was it right that Genji, who was just as much at fault here, got to sleep to his heart's content and not worry about a thing?
“Someone sent me messages from an unknown number,” Hanzo said in a hushed voice. The phone felt like a soap bar in his sweaty fingers, and his cheeks flushed at the crude insults in the messages. “Last night. Someone saw us.” He thrust the phone in Genji's face.
Genji narrowed his eyes at the phone screen and grabbed the phone, steadying Hanzo's hand and tilting the screen into a better angle. He stared for a good while, the cover slipping from his naked shoulders when he sat up and crossed his legs. He had been sleeping in his briefs and a light scent of stuffy sweat and sleep lingered around him.
“Oh shit,” Genji said blankly, brows raised and his lip round. “Shit.”
“Yes, exactly,” Hanzo hissed. “We got caught.”
“Who's the sender?” Genji asked.
“I don't know. Probably a burner phone, and these aren't exactly signed.”
“Yeah... Figures,” Genji muttered, scratching his chest. Then he did something that made the sickening anxiety in Hanzo's gut flare into anger again: He laughed.
Hanzo couldn't find any words to address the noise. He didn't know what he had expected, but the quick burst of snorting laughter hadn't been among the options.
Genji combed his fingers through his hair, glanced at the messages once more and laughed again. “Oh shit, Aniki. That's some shit someone's holding against you.”
Hanzo felt his face burning and the anger becoming sharper, and for a second he wanted to slap Genji to make him take this seriously. In the dojo he might have, but here he saw the fresh blue spots peppering Genji's neck and felt the immediate danger lingering over their situation, and the mixture made him still his hand. “Genji! This is serious! This is exactly why I told you to wait until we get in the room!”
Genji's laughter died down into a smirk and he raised a brow at older one. “I know this is serious, but it's not like we're staring at the barrel of a gun. Relax a little, will you?”
“No, I can't relax!” Hanzo hissed through his teeth. “Are you stupid?! Someone saw us, and someone took a picture! And since this is pretty much your fault, could you take this seriously for one second?!”
Blaming Genji was a low blow and a poor substitute for a slap, and Genji's expression soured at it. “This is hardly all my fault. I can clearly see that's your hand pawing my ass, and it's just as damning as what I'm doing here, Aniki.”
Genji was of course right, and Hanzo felt his face burning even hotter at the notion and he glanced away. A punishing slash of shame joined the anger coiling in his belly, acid-like and restless without a target. “This isn't the time to fight among ourselves,” he grunted.
Genji huffed. “You started it!”
“Fine!” Hanzo snapped, then stilled to get a hang of himself. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice: “Fine. What I should have said is that we're in trouble. You must realize how bad the situation is.”
“Yeah, I do,” Genji muttered. He glanced around the room and behind Hanzo as if trying to spot eavesdroppers behind the walls, and Hanzo felt a brush a relief now that Genji was taking this seriously and was apparently almost as self-conscious about it as Hanzo was.
“But who is this guy anyway?” Genji wondered then, snatched Hanzo's phone from him and tried to scroll up the nonexistent message log, as if there would be more to see if he looked hard enough.
Hanzo shrugged, gritting his teeth. “I don't know. Someone who followed me last night.” It was embarrassing to admit it; for all his precautions and all the trouble they went through for this it still hadn't been enough. If this person had been a hitman on a job they would both be dead.
Suddenly Genji dropped Hanzo's phone on the futon and started to pat the futon and the covers around him until he found his own phone. He unlocked it, and Hanzo expected him to find messages or perhaps even start to go through his number log, but the younger tossed his phone aside almost immediately. “I haven't gotten any messages,” he said.
Hanzo frowned. His heart was beating hard and fast like he was ready for battle, but it made thinking hard. “Well... Anyone would know that they need to only reach one of us to have us both.”
“Yeah,” Genji admitted, picked Hanzo's phone up again and stared at the messages. “This sounds really personal.”
Hanzo wrinkled his nose and shrugged. He knew what some people said about him behind his back, and this was nothing new. “The regular garbage,” he spat.
“Yeah, but this someone went far enough to dig up some actual dirt on you, not just call you a fag to his idiot buddies over a beer, “Genji said. “I hear the shit-talk too, you know, and I can tell you all of them are too terrified of you and the Shimada-gumi to actually do anything or even say that to your face.”
“On us,” Hanzo whispered. “This dirt is on us.” The shame was quickly overthrowing the anger and he didn't care so much about some stranger with a bone to pick with him, he had more urgent matters right here closer to him.
Genji laughed again, but now Hanzo heard the manic edge in his voice. Genji averted his gaze and scratched his neck compulsively. “Yeah... Yeah, us.” There was a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth and he chewed his lower lip to subdue it.
Hanzo could barely believe his eyes. “Genji, this is no laughing matter!” he whispered, glancing around the room, paranoid and anxious. “Do you understand what happens if this gets out?! Do you?”
Genji sucked his lower lip in his mouth and bit down before answering: “We're in some deep shit.”
Hanzo gave his younger brother a withering look. “Father will kill us,” he said. “I'm not kidding, I'm not exaggerating, I'm speaking the bare and honest truth: Father will first excommunicate us from the clan, and then he will kill us.”
Genji stared stubbornly past Hanzo at a spot on the floor and didn't reply, and Hanzo grew desperate. He reached out, grabbed Genji by the chin and turned his face towards him.
“Do you understand me?!” he demanded. “Remember when I dragged you home from that party when you got high and I told you that Father will kill you if he catches you? Well I lied, he wouldn't have killed you, he would have taken a belt and slapped you a few times, but that's it. But this thing here, this thing of ours, this he would seriously, literally kill us for. He'll take his katana and show us our insides, because this, this is dishonor, little brother. Genji, I need you to understand!”
The lip Genji was chewing on was bleeding now, and finally the younger lifted his gaze to Hanzo's eyes and looked serious. “I understand, okay?”
Hanzo let go of his chin and sighed. They sat there in silence for a while, a respectable amount of distance between them and both angled away from each other. The phone's screen glowed in the dark, the incriminating messages bright and all too real.
“We need to do something,” Hanzo finally said and picked up his phone to read through them again. He read them, read them again, judged the sender for picking such a self-absorbed word to refer to himself with and using more simple characters than kanji, and read them over once again. There wasn't much material, but he was determined to squeeze every ounce of information he could out of it.
Genji was thinking too, and he asked a question first: “Do you think this guy is a yakuza or a cop?”
Hanzo glanced at the younger one, still sitting cross-legged and leaning his chin on his palm, then back at his phone. “Sounds like a yakuza,” he said. “A cop wouldn't get this worked up over my honor and status.”
“That's what I thought,” Genji said.
Hanzo glanced at him. “What should we do?”
Genji shrugged. “There's actually very little that we can do, don't you think, Aniki?”
Hanzo frowned and had to admit that Genji was right. He disapproved how little this seemed to bother Genji even with the threat of violent death, but at least he was willing to think of a plan.
“True,” Hanzo said. He tapped the “reply” icon and an empty speech bubble appeared. “What should I say to him?”
Genji thought for a moment while suckling on his lower lip. “Ask him what he thinks he'll get with this. There must be something he wants, that's why he's contacted you and not, say, Father.”
Hanzo shivered at the very thought and started to type.
“What do you want?”
The message went and they sat there waiting. Two minutes went by, then three, and then the phone binged with a new message.
“That took you a long time. Scared??”
Hanzo wrinkled his nose again and Genji snorted when he saw the reply.
“I could keep this to myself, but it won't be cheap.”
Hanzo and Genji exchanged a look.
“I believe we are being blackmailed,” Genji said.
“I want to kill him,” Hanzo said.
Genji huffed and nodded towards the phone. “Ask him when and where he wants to meet and then we'll discuss the money. We'll go and resolve things in person. He sounds bold enough to actually meet with us.”