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Snowed Inn

Chapter Text

“This is all your fault,” Kiryu muttered, feet crunching in the snow. 

My fault?” Majima asked, feigning innocence as he trudged up beside him, “I didn’t make you punch the guy we were negotiating with!” 

Kiryu snarled. It was supposed to have been very simple. Dojima had sent him up north to clarify the position of a small yakuza clan in regards to a contraband trade. They had promised Tojo a thousand shipments in pre-cut, jeweler quality diamonds and rare gemstones but now they were dilly-dallying about sending them. Kiryu, on behalf of the Tojo clan and specifically Dojima, was meant to find out what the hold up was and fix it. Which he was absolutely going to do, except… 

“Fuck! I’m freezing my tits off here, where are we even going?” Majima shoved his hands under his jacket covering his purple-looking nipples. 

Somehow Majima had weaseled his way onto coming on this venture too. Shimano didn’t usually offer to share men with Dojima, but either out of whimsy or malice, Shimano had insisted Majima come too. And now here they were, trudging in the snow together, because no one had remembered that asking them to work together was like asking matter and antimatter to play nice. 

Kiryu crested a bump in the slope they were climbing and paused to tap off some of the snow on his shoes on a stump. “The barkeep said there was an old cabin out here we could stay at, since we’re unwelcome in town.” He glared accusingly at his companion.

“Horseshit,” Majima spat, clapping his arms around his sides as he waited for Kiryu to finish his rest, “They sent us up here to get eaten by bears and you’re just too dumb and trusting to know better.” He turned from squinting into the woods in front of them to face Kiryu. “Oh, poor, sweet Kiryu-chan,” Majima sighed dramatically, batting his eye at Kiryu, “your frozen beauty will make the poets weep!” 

“Well, we had lodgings in town, we had food and a warm place to sleep tonight before you started spouting off at the secretary-” Without realizing it, Kiryu had taken a dangerous few steps in Majima’s direction, putting them on a fighting footing before Kiryu could stop himself.

Majima’s eye flashed. “Ohhh, them’s fighting words, Kiryu-chan. Ya wanna have it out now?” Kiryu flinched, hearing the tanto singing through the air before he saw it. Shit, he hadn’t meant to get started. 

Kiryu tried to take a step back, but Majima closed the distance. “Majima-onii-san, I didn’t mean-”

“Weren’t you just saying that this was all my fault?” Majima licked his teeth, his dark gaze boring into Kiryu, “Not gonna stand by your words?” 

Kiryu groaned. “It’s freezing out here, we’d be rolling around in the snow-”

He felt a prick on his arm and a drop of red fell from the tanto to the pristine snow below. Too late to back down then. Fine. 

Kiryu sighed and looked down at the tear in his suit coat. “And now you’ve stained my only jacket. I fucking hate you.” 

With that Kiryu dove for Majima as Majima began cackling. Fighting in the snow was stupid, they were going to get wet and cold and exhausted and they had no shelter yet. But Majima was going for his kidneys and if he wasn’t careful that knife was going to slice up the only clothing he had left and there really wasn’t much choice about to fight or not to fight. There never was with Majima. They were always going to fight, it was only a question of when. And, personally Kiryu would have preferred to do it somewhere warm and dry, he thought as he got Majima by the leg and dragged him wriggling through the snow, but Majima didn’t seem to share his priorities. 

Kiryu decided that throwing Majima into a tree would be too much. They didn’t have medical care on them after all. So he settled for shoving him into the thickest bank of snow on hand, but he immediately decided the tree was too good for Majima because the next second, Majima had bolted out of the snow and had taken Kiryu so by surprise that now they both were face down in the snow, rolling around like they thought hypothermia was a good idea. 

Eventually, Kiryu got on top of Majima, pinning him to the slick ground with a knee on his diaphragm and an elbow to his throat. “Enough!” he roared, “We’re both going to die out here if we keep this up!”

“But… that’s what… makes it… fun!” Majima choked out, still trying to get his tanto into Kiryu, even as Kiryu held his knife hand down. 

“Tch!” It was moments like this that Kiryu understood why everyone called him crazy. And it was moments like this that Kiryu struggled to remember why he didn’t agree. Taking a deep breath, he mastered the annoyance Majima was pouring gasoline on with every flail. “We got into this mess doing what we’re doing now. We’ll do better if we can manage to work together.” 

Majima squinted at him, unconvinced, but his flailing slowed. He looked like he was prepared to say something, but spluttered over Kiryu’s elbow as he tried to draw breath. Kiryu relented, adjusting his grip to hold Majima by the shoulders instead and only too late did he see the trap. In the mere seconds of Kiryu’s eased pressure, Majima delivered a sharp kick to Kiryu’s groin, causing Kiryu to collapse and allowing Majima to wriggle free, leaving Kiryu hunched over in the snow, clutching an empty jacket. 

“That’s quitter talk, Kiryu-chan!” Majima yelled from the top of the hill, sounding hoarse from Kiryu’s punishment, “How will you ever know who’s strongest if you don’t fight me to the death?” 

Kiryu rolled his eyes, refusing to respond. Majima hadn’t quite kicked him in the dick, fortunately, the tender flesh around his family jewels smarted, but he wasn’t in so much pain he couldn’t stand. With a sigh, he slowly got to his feet and brushed off Majima’s jacket. “Put this back on, you’ll freeze to death.” Kiryu held out the cleaned jacket for him.

“Haw?” Majima tossed his knife from one hand to the other, “Why do you care? Don’cha want to paint the snow with my blood?” He grinned, but Kiryu could see him starting to tremble from the cold. 

“Not particularly,” Kiryu sighed and took a few steps closer, still holding out the jacket, “I’m already going to get hell for this fuck up. If you die here too, they’ll probably drum me out of the clan. You’re worth more to me alive than dead.” He glanced up at Majima, waiting for his verdict.

Majima regarded him thoughtfully then, almost imperceptibly, his body relaxed.“Ah, I gotcha Kiryu-chan, watching your back, very clever.” Majima at last sheathed his dagger. “Well, if I’m Kiryu-chan’s insurance, that’s okay then!” He beamed, taking the jacket back and slinging it over his shoulders and then merrily tramping deeper into the woods.

Kiryu just shook his head. He was quite sure just talking and apologizing would be an easier way to settle things, but somehow, that’s never how it worked for them.


It wasn’t too much longer before the cabin was in their sight. And a good thing too, their pace had slowed while they were wet and shivering and the sun crept ever lower in the sky, taking the temperature down with it. 

“See? I told you they sent us here to die,” Majima sniffed, eyeing the boarded up windows and flaking paint. He sneezed, the cold having turned his nose wet and rosy. 

“It’s better than nothing,” Kiryu grumbled, willing himself not to sneeze as well and failing. “C’mon let’s get inside while there’s still daylight.” Kiryu stepped onto the creaking stairs and approached the door. The floorboards were weathered and some warped, but the structure seemed solid enough. They could spend one night here without dying. There was no lock on the door though and Kiryu frowned at that. 

“Careless owner,” Majima muttered, peering at the handle with him, “or a trap. Or something got here before us. Or-” 

“Will you shut up?” Kiryu snapped, “If there was anything inside, it was probably scared off by the sound of your racket.” Without waiting for a reply, Kiryu turned the handle and stepped in. The insides, unfortunately, were not very encouraging. 

“Well, something was here,” Majima insisted, shrugging at the single futon beside the fireplace, which appeared to have one blanket on it that had recently been the nest of something judging by the leaves and twigs in it. 

Kiryu’s mouth pursed. “Well, it’s not trying to kill us, so you can calm down.” 

Majima pouted. “Kiryu-chan, you wound me! I only want you to be prepared for every eventuality. What if something happened to you while I was here? I couldn’t live with myself!” 

Kiryu rolled his eyes. “Your concern is touching.”  Scanning the interior once more, Kiryu took stock of their supplies. One futon, one blanket, a cold, but intact hearth and chimney, and next to it, a hatchet. “Look, they left-”

“A pot!” Majima interrupted, striding towards the hearth. 

“What?” Kiryu frowned. 

Majima reached into the darkness of the hearth and retrieved a small, cast iron pot, complete with handle and spiderwebs. “We can have water once we get a fire going.” He smirked.

“Ah. So-” 

“Get chopping,” Majima commanded, picking up the hatchet and handing it to Kiryu.

Kiryu’s eyes narrowed in annoyance before he remembered that Majima did outrank him and could, technically, give him orders. He took the hatchet, begrudgingly. “And what’re you going to do?” he couldn’t resist asking before turning to head out.  

“Clean up a little, this place is a mess,” Majima tsked, indicating the leaves and dirt all over the floor. 

“Clean up how? There’s no broom.”

Majima stared at him and rolled his eye deliberately before marching outside in front of him. Kiryu followed, perplexed, and watched Majima walk over to a pine tree, yank down a low branch, and- oh. Kiryu gulped sheepishly as Majima waved the long-needled branch in his face. “Still so much to learn, Kiryu-chan,” Majima sang at him, before heading back into the house. 

Kiryu sighed. Why did he always have to be right? At least they would be apart for a bit, Kiryu consoled himself, hoisting his hatchet and beginning to scout around for a log or stump. Maybe his head would clear a little with absence. Majima made it hard to think sometimes, with all the teasing and fighting. He couldn’t honestly say this was the first time he’d wound up in trouble because he’d lost his head trying to show up Majima instead of doing his job.

And he wasn’t presently sure how he was going to get out of this scrape either, he thought as he spied a half-buried log not far from the cabin. The cold was beginning to bite into his legs and hands as the sun dipped ever lower, hopefully he could collect wood quickly. He scraped some of the snow off, trying futilely to pull the tree carcass out of the snow. It wouldn’t budge so he started hacking at what was visible. Good, yellow wood appeared under the edge of the hatchet. He got into the rhythm of it and let his mind drift. 

He was expected back in Kamurocho after tomorrow, with a shipment in tow and a guarantee of no further delays. If he came back empty-handed, at best they’d relegate him to street shake downs for his incompetence, at worst, he could face expulsion again. It wasn’t so long since the empty lot business that anyone had forgotten. And while he had been exonerated and the new chairman Sera had been put on the throne, Kiryu didn’t want to test Dojima’s generosity. At minimum, they would have to go into town tomorrow and make their apologies. It wasn’t right for the Tojo Clan to beg for anything, especially when they were the ones  being cheated, which had been Majima’s point. Sort of. But now between both their egos, they were going to have to beg, making Tojo look weak in the process. God, why couldn’t Kiryu do anything right around Majima?

His blade hit snow and Kiryu fell heavily on it without the recoil. He looked up to find he had split the log into several usable pieces. That was probably enough for now. If Majima wanted more, he could go chop it himself. Kiryu picked up as much wood as he could carry and trudged back to the house. The physical exertion made him feel a bit better at least, a temporary defense against the rising cold.

Kiryu swung open the door to the cabin, difficult with his arms full, to be greeted with a much cleaner floor. He almost felt comfortable setting bare feet on this.

“What took you so long?” Majima whined, stepping away from the windows and taking some of the wood out of his arms, “It’s like you’re avoiding me.” He pouted over his shoulder before depositing the logs in the fireplace. 

“I told you, I need you alive, I wouldn’t abandon you,” Kiryu muttered, setting down the hatchet and excess wood next to the hearth, “The floor looks much better, thank you.”

Majima’s eye squeezed shut as he smiled. “I’d make an excellent housewife.” He winked over at Kiryu, before stuffing the logs with the old dry branches and twigs he’d collected sweeping up. Kiryu just stood awkwardly, unsure how to take that. 

Majima withdrew his lighter and flicked it on before holding it to the dry brush. The leaves immediately caught and burned out, but the embers started to catch on the twigs and branches. Majima withdrew his hand as one strong lick of flame started to fancy one of the logs. 

“There, we’ll get through this yet,” Majima said as he stood and walked over to the futon. Kiryu was still watching the fire when he heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper. Kiryu whirled, body tensing like a fight was about to happen, but Majima was just shuffling out of his leather pants, coat and shoes already off.

“Wh-What are you doing?” Kiryu did not squeal. Barely. 

“Didncha ever do any survival training?” Majima mused, frowning at him, now down to just his socks and underwear, “Those wet things you’re in are only gonna make ya colder. You gotta be dry first before ya can get warm.” 

“...oh.” He did not watch Majima bend over to lay his clothes in front of the fire. 

“C’mon, you’re soaking, take ‘em off,” Majima flicked his fingers at him as he rolled off his socks, “Unless… you wanted me to do it for you?” He leered with a savage grin.

Kiryu turned his back quickly and shrugged off his ruined coat as fast as he could. Majima snickered behind him. Kiryu set his jacket next to Majima’s on the hearth. He chanced a glance at Majima to find him peeling off his gloves, one finger at a time. Kiryu did not watch, he didn’t, he did not. His fingers fumbled at his own buttons and he turned back around, thanking whatever gods there were that Majima didn’t catch whatever that moment just was. 

Kiryu decided it was safest to just wait until all of his clothes were off before putting them next to the fire, which by now was into its adolescence, just starting to give off enough heat to feel it. He laid out his clothes carefully around the little hearth, unmolested now that Majima was lying on the futon and… naked, he saw as he turned around. Kiryu breathed sharply, surprised, then mad at himself for not having noticed Majima’s black underwear lying there, perfectly obvious, next to his coat. 

“What gives? I said all the way off, big boy,” Majima clapped his hands, “Chop chop now.”

Kiryu swallowed his embarrassment. This was no different than a public bath or locker room. He wouldn’t let it be different. And besides, he wasn’t shy or prudish. This was just… a surprise, that’s all. Fixing his eyes on a blank patch of floor, he rolled off his briefs and put them next to his socks before turning back to Majima who held the blanket up for him. 

Majima was smirking and Kiryu did not want to hear whatever his latest observation was. But if he couldn’t stop him from saying it, he at least didn’t have to look at him while he said it. Kiryu defiantly laid down with his back to Majima, pulling the blanket quickly up to his chest. 

“Ah, you really don’t know anything about surviving the cold, do ya?” Majima tsked. 

If Majima was about to insist they have sex to stay warm… “What is it now?” Kiryu growled. 

Majima just tapped his shoulder. “You don’t produce heat from the back, dummy. It’s produced from the front, where the heart is. We’ll be warmer faster front to front.” 

Kiryu thought about that and squinted. “You made that up.” He rolled his head over his shoulder to glare at Majima.

Majima chortled. “Maaaybe, but do ya really want to turn your back on me? Who knows where my wandering eye could be…”

That was unfortunately a very good point. Kiryu rolled over.

“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Majima smiled, propped up on one hand, and for once there was nothing mean or nasty about his smile. It seemed almost genuine. 

Kiryu looked away and fished around for something to say. Majima was behaving himself after all. “How d’you know so much about survival?” 

Majima shrugged. “Was never much of an outdoorsman, but it pays to know all kinds of things in our line of work.” He sighed, unpropping himself and settling down at Kiryu’s level. “That’s a real nice tattoo ya got, tho. Who did it for ya?” Majima nodded towards Kiryu’s back.

“Utabori-san,” Kiryu answered, pleasantly surprised at Majima’s curiosity.

Majima whistled. “The legend.” 

Kiryu started to smile. “Yeah. Said he didn’t get too many dragons, but he took one look at me and he knew.” He dropped his eyes, still humbled by the promise and weight on his back. 

“He was right,” Majima replied. 

Kiryu’s eyebrows quirked. “Hmm?”

“It’s in your eyes,” Majima’s one eye drifted from Kiryu’s one brown eye to the other, “That drive, that will. The unshakeable conviction that you’ll make things better. I could envy you.” Majima swallowed and didn’t continue. 

Kiryu stared at him for a long moment, a question on his lips, but it became clear that Majima wasn’t going to finish that thought. Kiryu cleared his throat. “What about you?”

Majima shook himself, startled. “Haw?”

“Your tattoos.” Kiryu glanced at the dark wings covering most of Majima’s chest.

“Oh!” Majima looked down too. “Oh, well, I thought about going to Utabori, but when I joined up, it was under Shimano and his tattoos were done by a guy called Takahashi. You ever see Shimano’s tattoos?” 

Kiryu shook his head.

“Nah, ya wouldn’t, would ya? The boss doesn’t do much fighting himself these days. But, they’re a lot like mine, with the big black clouds and stuff,” Majima ran his fingers over the whorls on his chest, up and over his neck and shoulder, “And I wanted… everyone to know who I belonged to.” Majima got real quiet again, a dark, far away look coming into his eye.

Kiryu frowned at him. He didn’t really understand the relationship between Shimano and Majima; he’d heard some of the rumors, but he didn’t believe half of them. After all, there were rumors about him that he defeated a demon and took its power, that he’d literally drank dragon’s blood, and the like. But he also knew that Majima’s reputation as a “mad dog” didn’t come from nothing and it wasn’t entirely a positive association. He’d never had reason to think Majima outright disloyal, but… The way he looked now, still and dark and scary, not how he ever was in front of others, Kiryu worried that there may be something quite bad between them. 

Majima shook himself this time without Kiryu having to say anything. “Listen to me, going on and on about ancient history,” he muttered, “I want to hear more about Kiryu-chan!” He grinned, big and bright, all trace of darkness evaporated.

“Me?” Kiryu squirmed a little, put on the spot, “There isn’t much to tell, really.”

“Nooothing?” Majima sang back at him, scooting closer in response to Kiryu’s squirming, legs rubbing together, Majima’s hand pulling at his bicep, “All this power and muscle and nothing? ” He teased.

Kiryu shrugged helplessly. “I’m just really not that interesting.” 

“Tch!” Majima let his arm go to wag a finger at him, “See now, that I don’t get. You’re the Dragon of Dojima, you have a rep and the punch to prove it, you’re stronger than men twice your age; if you wanted to you could rise all the way to Chairman in a matter of years and you say you’re not interesting. Tell me, Kiryu-chan, what about any of that bores you?”

Majima was looking at him like he could see right through Kiryu’s flesh and bone back to that dragon on his back and the message it held. Kiryu swallowed hard. “Well,” he tried to put words to it, “I haven’t done anything yet.” 

Majima squinted at him but said nothing.

Kiryu licked his lips and tried to keep going. “Ever since I can remember, people always expected me to be something, do something great. And… I’ve just always been trying to live up to what people expected of me. But no one expected me to become yakuza. I did that. I did that because I wanted to be a great man, like Kazama-san. But, now I’m here and… it’s different.” He chanced a glance at Majima and was relieved to see him nod with understanding. “It’s not what I expected, but,” Kiryu lowered his voice, “I kinda like it anyway.”

Majima wriggled and Kiryu found himself tangled in an embrace before he could squirm away. 

“Oh, Kiryu-chan! You and I are just alike!” Majima squealed, leaning back just enough to pet his face, “We live for the thrill of the fight, the rush of the blood, the sweet satisfaction of putting your fist through another fucker’s face, eh, Kiryu-chan?” His ecstatic grin took on that knife-edge quality Kiryu knew so well.

Kiryu grit his teeth. He didn’t like to admit it, but it was true. He did love the fight. Hesitantly, he nodded, still held in Majima’s arms.

Majima squealed again. “I knew it! I felt it every time we fought. I knew you couldn’t burn so hot for nothing.” Kiryu flushed and began to try to extricate himself from Majima’s octopus-like grasp. “But ya didn’t answer my question,” he held Kiryu fast as Kiryu started to push away, forcing Kiryu to look up at him and answer, “If all that’s true, why do ya think you’re boring?”

Kiryu groaned in frustration. His hand tried to find an acceptable place to rest on Majima while he tried to think of an answer. His hand eventually settled on Majima’s lean ribs. “Not boring, I guess, I just don’t get it,” Kiryu said, eyebrows knit together.

“Haw?” Majima prodded. 

“The expectation, the way you all talk about me. I don’t get it, why I’m such a big deal,” Kiryu sighed, suddenly finding relief in putting words to this, “I mean, I’m just Kiryu Kazuma.” He looked at Majima and Majima was staring at him, wide-eyed and face slack. Kiryu blinked and Majima erupted into roaring laughter, blanket sliding down to his hips as his spine curled back with it. Kiryu took the opportunity to discreetly pull his hand away and cross his arms over his chest. 

“God, you’re almost too good to be true,” Majima gasped, wiping a tear, “Unfuckingbelievable, you’re a legend in your own time and you don’t get why everyone makes such a big screaming deal. Fuck!” Majima shook his head at him, eye bright, “I gotcha now. But mark my words, Kiryu-chan, you’re not gonna be nobody. You’re gonna get why we’re all watching ya one of these days. You will.”

Kiryu pursed his lips. “What if I just give up now?” 

“Ya won’t,” Majima’s eye glittered and he bent closer, “You’re too good for that.”

“You don’t know that.” His teeth flashed.

“Bet me,” Majima growled and this time Kiryu lunged first, hungry for this fight. 

He laid into Majima unabashedly, punishing his body for the confusion Kiryu felt but couldn’t resolve. Majima took it all with relish, his hands fast and free on Kiryu’s body, pulling him into a fierce headbutt with a tender hand on his neck. They grappled, sending the blanket far-flung and disturbing the fire with their antics. Neither of them seemed to care that they were both naked as the day they were born. Kiryu didn’t hesitate, grabbing full handfuls of Majima to pick him up and slam him back into the ground. Nor did he care when Majima’s legs wrapped around him to twist his spine to pain. Kiryu writhed against it, driving an elbow into Majima’s abdomen, forcing him to release, then planting one knee on Majima’s thigh and pressing him back with both hands on his biceps, exposing the narrow sliver of un-tattooed skin under his armpits. 

“Look at you,” Majima panted, licking his teeth and pulsing under Kiryu’s grasp, “So desperate to prove you’re not what you are, but look at you.” Majima’s gaze bored into him again, almost palpable on his skin and Kiryu shivered against it. “Can’t resist a fight, can’t help winning,” Majima continued, head curved back to reveal his smooth neck to the firelight, “Tell me you can’t feel it inside you. Tell me you didn’t want this.”

Kiryu’s gut coiled tight as he said it. He could feel the thrum of satisfaction under his skin, and what’s worse, a hunger beneath that. Not a cruel hunger, not a desire for pain, but… a desire that answered the way Majima was looking at him right now. It spoke words that Kiryu dare not voice, even to himself. Majima was right; he could not stay still, he could not be nothing, no matter how badly he wanted to. He trembled, caught between the desire and the denial.

“What do you want?” Majima breathed, so soft it might have been the fire itself whispering. 

Kiryu blinked, coming back to an awareness that he was hovering over Majima like a bird of prey, pinning him down like any second he might devour him. Almost in response to the question, Kiryu’s eyes dragged down Majima’s body, coming to new conclusions about acceptable proximity and how this violated all of them. He swallowed and looked back at Majima’s face, who started to exhale even before Kiryu began to move off him. 

Kiryu sat back a safe distance away and unconsciously folded his legs protectively against his chest. Majima stayed there a moment, splayed out and flat against the floor, before standing and walking to the hearth. He picked up his underwear, then found Kiryu’s and tossed them at him. 

“Your pants are probably dry too,” Majima explained, pulling on his underwear. Kiryu watched, with a faint pang of guilt, mesmerized as the Hannya became obscured. He always forgot quite how long Majima’s tattoos were, he never got the chance to admire them in full. And he realized he’d lost the chance now as Majima squeezed back into his leather pants and grabbed the iron pot. 

“I’m thirsty,” Majima offered as he strode for the door, not bothering to check his shoes or socks.

Kiryu tried to think of something he could say to ease the awkwardness, but Majima had closed the door behind him before he came up with anything. Kiryu sighed heavily. He’d thought spending the night with Majima would go a lot of ways but not like this. Kiryu rose and dressed as Majima suggested. His shirt was still damp so he left it by the fire. Looking around, he pulled the futon back to its place by the hearth and fetched the blanket from where they had thrown it earlier. He laid back down and tried to sort out what to do next. He felt like apologizing to Majima but couldn’t quite point to why. Maybe he just would rather they were friends than enemies… Kiryu’s heart twisted at the idea of hurting Majima and maybe that was enough of a reason to apologize.

Majima came back in a short while later and Kiryu opened the blanket for him invitingly. Majima just raised an eyebrow, passing him to hook the pot over the fire. He crouched next to his coat, feeling his pockets for his cigarettes. Kiryu instantly scrambled for his own lighter and flicked it on just before Majima could reach for his. Majima blinked, hearing the click, and turned to see Kiryu leaning out of bed just for the chance to light his cigarette. Majima looked at him, then bent his head and let Kiryu light it for him. 

Kiryu sighed in relief, pocketing his lighter again, as Majima climbed into bed. Kiryu rolled over to look at him and Majima, thoughtfully, blew his first puff of smoke into his face. Kiryu coughed, but he probably deserved that. He knew Majima was watching him now, but Kiryu didn’t mind. Majima took another long draw on his cigarette before speaking, “You’re a difficult man, Kiryu-chan.”

Kiryu’s mouth quirked. He nodded.

“Fortunately, I like a challenge,” Majima said, leaning back in repose, belying his icy feet wriggling under Kiryu’s pants.

“Hey!” Kiryu squeaked, trying to squirm away again, but smiling.

Majima finally smiled again. “Fair’s fair! I go out in the cold, you have to make me warm again.” His intrepid toes wriggled between his legs.

“How is that fair?” Kiryu protested, but didn’t push away.

“I saved you from hypothermia! The least you can do is prevent my frostbite,” Majima pouted, rolling over to press against Kiryu’s chest.

“You caused the hypothermia,” Kiryu retorted, squeezing his legs around Majima’s feet so he couldn’t wriggle anymore.

“Tch!” Majima sneered, lolling back, “Ah, I’m too tired to argue with ya.” He brushed Kiryu aside with a lazy hand gesture, “If I freeze to death in the night, remember me fondly, Kiryu-chan.” So saying, he rolled onto his side, still puffing on the cigarette.

Kiryu rolled his eyes. “If you freeze to death, I’ll freeze to death along with you,” he muttered, fixing the blanket so it fell evenly on them, “we go down together.” Kiryu caught the soft smile on Majima’s face as he laid down too, back to back.

Kiryu looked at the warm fire, the little black pot hanging above the flames. He could see the ice start to sink in the pot. It wouldn’t make much water, but it was something. It was enough. 



“Good night.”

“...good night, Kiryu-chan.”


When Kiryu woke up, it was at the behest of Majima’s feet. 

Kiryu groaned as another swift kick was delivered to his spine. The “anywhere, anytime” mentality was really getting old in Kiryu’s opinion. He rolled over, preparing to throwdown, only to find that Majima was still deep in sleep. Majima’s face was, in fact, screwed up in the grips of some terrible dream as he thrashed, unwittingly stabbing Kiryu from time to time with his sharp toes. 

“Ow!” Kiryu grunted as another kick found its mark on the back of Kiryu’s thigh. Well, dream or not, Kiryu didn’t have to stay here to suffer through it with him. Reluctantly, Kiryu forced himself out of bed, deciding to wait out this fit by tending to the fire. It was looking low anyway. 

He wondered sleepily, as he nudged another branch onto the glowing embers, what nightmares Majima had. Maybe he was losing a fight, although that never seemed to bother him too much. Maybe there was only one snakeskin jacket left at the thrift store and- 

Kiryu started at a wet gasp behind him. He snapped around, coming fully awake, to see Majima bolt upright, clutching tightly to the empty futon Kiryu had left behind. Kiryu’s heart twisted to see the look in Majima’s eye; it was an expression he’d never seen: panic. Pure, unadulterated terror beneath wrecked hair. And suddenly that eye was on him, wild with the natural fear of a scared animal. Kiryu’s mouth filled with dusty gravel, unable to say anything to that look. He instantly dropped eye contact and busied himself tending the fire. 

Moments later, he felt the cold draft of the open door and shortly heard the frustrated clicking of a lighter outside. Kiryu blew out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He retroactively felt guilty for imagining Majima’s demons so lightly. He didn’t know precisely what the man’s history was, but from that little glimpse, he could see why Majima didn’t feel like sharing. 

Kiryu turned back to the empty room and saw the snakeskin jacket left behind. Kiryu grimaced; he’d freeze like that. 

Outside, Majima was so focused on whatever was in his head, he didn’t even look up when Kiryu walked out and stood behind him. But he did flinch before he realized Kiryu had just dropped the blanket on top of him. Majima poked his head out from under it and stared questioningly at Kiryu. 

“Don’t stay out too long, you’ll get cold,” Kiryu chastised, frowning. 

Majima made no answer, but he lowered his gaze in a sort of approximation of a nod. 

Kiryu nodded in return and walked back inside. The fire was going again, so he laid down on the mat,  still warm and slightly damp where Majima had been lying. Kiryu wrapped his arms around himself. It wasn’t as warm now without the blanket, but he’d rather be cold and know that Majima was okay than the reverse. He shut his eyes and willed himself to relax. He was still very tired and, if there was a just god, sleep would find him again. 


When Kiryu woke again, it was to a stab of sunlight in his eyes. Through the poorly-boarded windows, the clear light of morning was streaming in, directly into Kiryu’s sore, tired eyes. He screwed them shut, but it was no use. The light amplified on the snow and his eyelids were no match against the glare. He was going to stay awake now, whether he liked it or not. 

No longer allowed to sleep, Kiryu slowly blinked his vision to adjusting. The fire was now nothing but ash in the grate, long since burned out and cold. The cold should have woken him long before the light then, but oddly he felt comfortable, not quite toasty, but not freezing to death either. Kiryu shifted unconsciously and realized why he felt so temperate as Majima’s arm adjusted with him. 

Kiryu gulped hard as his body helpfully informed him that his heat source was the full length of Majima’s body pressed against his back, his arm curled loosely around his middle, and the thin blanket Majima had, evidently, laid over both of them when he came back to bed. At this revelation, Kiryu completely forgot how to breathe. His body was at war with itself; some parts shocked into total stillness, others frantic and racing. His brain couldn’t decide which side to be on. He was suddenly very paranoid that even his change in breathing would wake Majima and focused on slowing that down. But then his heart was beating too loudly and surely Majima would feel the pounding under his hand. And his body was all rigid now, not lax with sleep, Majima would know he was awake from that alone. Kiryu realized he looked, and felt, nervous. He gulped again, understanding washing over him as to why this was. The morning had blessed him with a stiffness that had nothing to do with cold or nerves and if Majima realized, Kiryu was sure only one of them would leave this cabin.  

When Kiryu thought about the end of the world, he normally assumed it would be some massive bomb drop or an ill-conceived war. He had, truthfully, never considered this as an option. But now it was here, hard in the arms of Majima fucking Goro, and he could not imagine anything more horrifying. 

Kiryu grit his teeth and tried desperately to think of a way out of this. A quick dip in the cold snow would shrink this right up, but it was already morning, already time to be awake, and he couldn’t risk a sudden movement waking Majima the rest of the way. He could try to imagine terrible, disgusting things to turn himself off the hard way, but, and here he was already blushing, he was honestly too goddamn comfortable for those thoughts to take. And that was the real root of the problem. He could pretend this was down to a lot of things, but when push came to shove, Kiryu didn’t consider himself a man capable of lying to himself. He knew, deep down in some completely unhinged part of him, that this… reaction he was having was actually about Majima. The thought should have made him retch, should have made him shoot out of bed, shame be damned, and march into town rather than spend another second here. But not one muscle fiber actually wanted to leave and that fact, more than the erection itself, scared Kiryu to his core. That Majima- fuck! 

Behind him, there was a stir and then a faint groan. “Mmm,” Majima hummed, high and breathy. His face nuzzled his back and then found his neck, bare. Kiryu froze. Oh no. 

“Goooood mornin’, Kiryu-chan,” Majima purred in his ear, insufferably cheerful first thing in the morning. 

Kiryu swallowed hard and bit down on his tongue, terrified of what sound might come out of him. He nodded stiffly. 

“Awww, don’t be that way,” Majima whined, squirming as he moved to see Kiryu’s face properly, “I just wanted to thank ya for-” In his rebalancing, his hand had swept low on Kiryu’s belly and. Well. This was how Kiryu Kazuma died. 

Kiryu kept his eyes determinedly fixed on the woodgrain in front of him, rendered coarse and extreme in the harsh light of day. He did not register Majima leaning back in his periphery, or the blanket getting pushed off them for confirmation, or the hedonistic, triumphant, giddy gleam in Majima’s one eye. 

A crowing laugh bubbled up from Majima’s chest and spilled out, growing in volume until it filled the whole cabin. Kiryu felt sick. 

“Welly, well, Kiryu-chan! I was going to ask you if you slept well, but I see there’s no need!” Majima could barely contain his giggling. 

“Shut up,” Kiryu mumbled. 

“Awww, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Majima whined, sliding down next to him until Kiryu could feel an answering hardness pressed against his thigh. Kiryu bit down on his tongue even harder. 

“It’s quite the compliment ya giving me, I’m mighty flattered.” Kiryu could feel the shit-eating grin behind him as he said it. He tried not to picture whatever dark and intoxicating deeds were probably dancing around in Majima’s glowing eye.

“I said shut up,” Kiryu growled at length, voice thick with what he hoped he could pass offer as sleep, “it’s got nothing to do with you.” 

Majima snickered. “Yeah, and the snow’s got nothing to do with the sky,” he cuffed Kiryu’s shoulder, “face it, kid, ya got it bad -” 

Kiryu finally rolled over, forcing Majima to scoot back or get sat on which- Kiryu didn’t permit himself to think about how that might have gone. 

“Ohhh, now I’ve made you angry,” Majima grinned up into Kiryu’s glowering face, “You wanna take a swing at me, I can tell,” he purred and Kiryu didn’t understand why it all seemed the same to Majima, fighting, sex, it didn’t seem to make any difference. Here they were, lying in bed together, at various states of arousal, and Majima was lying back on his elbows, open and receptive, but his mouth was full of barbs. Kiryu didn’t get it and he didn’t have time to try to get it either. 

Majima cocked his head. “You’ve made up your mind about something.” His eye glittered.

“Have I now?” Kiryu refused, stalling for time. 

“Ohhh yes, I know my Kiryu-chan like the back of my hand,” his mouth spread wide, “I can tell what you’re going to do before ya even think to do it.”

It was bait, obviously bait, but Kiryu was too frustrated and the wires between aggression and attraction were too muddled for him to stop himself. He grabbed Majima by the shoulders, hauling him up until they were nose to nose kneeling on the mat. This close, this dangerously close, Kiryu could feel the crackle of tension in every place they weren't touching. “And what have I decided?” He breathed, eyes locked on Majima's. 

Majima stayed annoyingly silent. Such a chatterbox, right up until the second it mattered, right until he knew Kiryu was in too deep. Kiryu hated it; he loved it.  

“Kiryu-chan….” Majima whispered and Kiryu suddenly noticed how warm and soft Majima looked, there was something heated in his eye, but not the usual mania or bloodlust. Something else entirely. 

“Kiss me.” Kiryu’s fist collided with his mouth just as he started to grin. Majima fell to the side in a shuddering collection of giggles.

Kiryu reeled back, disgusted. Just when he thought something was happening… But never mind that, it was apparently all one big joke to Majima. “You’re the worst,” Kiryu sneered. Majima peered up at him, still all smiles, and Kiryu’s heart lunged uncomfortably. Shit, what was going on?

“Oh, the worst am I?” Majima growled, then shot at Kiryu, tackling him to the ground. 

Kiryu gasped in surprise before his instincts kicked in, trying to fit his legs under Majima’s abdomen to throw him off. He wasn’t sure what was happening anymore as they tossed each other around the futon, but he felt breathless and dizzy. This was much easier than whatever they had been doing before, but the weird, pent-up energy inside him hadn’t abated yet. In his distraction, Majima swept his legs, landing him face down on the futon and Majima pinned him with ease. 

“Ha ha! Losing your edge, Kiryu-chan!” he crowed, hands tight on Kiryu’s wrists, straddling his hips so Kiryu couldn’t wriggle free, “What’s a-matter? Something on your mind?” 

Kiryu snarled and tried to buck him off, but Majima held tight, rolling with him with a tight squeeze on his hips. “Whoa, easy now!” Majima chided, “I haven’t heard your admission yet.”

Kiryu went still. His heart beat in his throat. “A-Admission?” He tried to sound normal. 

“Of defeat,” Majima clarified. “Why?” he drawled, “What other admission could I mean?” Kiryu knew that patented false innocence anywhere and deigned to respond. 

Kiryu tucked his chin in and buried his face in the foam mat. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was safer than worrying Majima could read all his fears and desires on his face. Not that it was easy to fool Majima about anything. There might have been a way out of this, if Kiryu was a smarter, cooler-tempered man, but as it was he was hard and frustrated, hot and adrenaline-addled, and it was about all he could do to not think about Majima, mostly nude and hard above him and the position they were in. So, beset from all sides, he gave up. “I lost,” he muttered.

“Hmm? What was that?” Majima bent low until Kiryu felt one of his stray hairs brush his ear. 

Kiryu forced his head to the side so his mouth was unobscured. “I lost, you won,” he repeated, with a slight tingle of anticipation. 

“Mmm,” Majima hummed pleasantly, tightened his grip on Kiryu’s wrists… and slid off him. 

Kiryu blinked. That… wasn’t how this was supposed to go, was it? He stayed in that position for a second, trying to process. Majima had had him totally at a disadvantage, he could have stayed there as long as he wanted, he could have pushed for more than just an admission of defeat. And Kiryu found he was a little disappointed that Majima hadn’t. 

He sat up slowly, rubbing his wrists that still burned with friction and stared at Majima plaintively. But Majima just sat contentedly on the floor, legs stretched out before him. Kiryu watched him reach over to the pile of his jacket and fish around for his pack of cigarettes, take one out and light it, like there was nothing at all he wanted. Kiryu swallowed around something messy and writhing and was about to ask why he had stopped when there was a knock at the door. 

“Now who could that be?” Majima exhaled before lifting himself up and padding over to the door. Kiryu just watched helplessly, an ache of loss growing inside him. 

“Majima-san!” An official-looking man with a troupe of rough men, some of which Kiryu recognized from yesterday, stood at the door, bowing low in the bright light. 

Majima snorted, blowing smoke out his nose. “Yeah? What ya want?”

“I am Tanaka, lieutenant of the Shibara family. My men and I offer our sincerest apologies about the misunderstanding yesterday and the offensive way you have been treated since,” Tanaka remained in bowing position, “We have no wish to cause any further distress to the Tojo Clan and want to make amends. If you and your compatriot will join us in town, we would be most honored to escort you to proper lodgings where we can make terms.” He finally rose, gesturing graciously back down the hillside to the town. 

“Bullshit,” Majima grumbled, flicking his cigarette to the floor and stamping it out under his heel, “you’ll give us terms here and now.” 

Tanaka blinked hard, as did Kiryu, clearly not expecting this response. “E-Excuse me, sir?” 

“What, ya want to butter us up with your cushy chairs and hot food, which we’ll be very grateful for after a night out here in the ball-biting cold, and make us forget why we came in the first place?” Majima started to bear down on the shorter man, “So we’ll be so overcome with gratitude, we’ll let bygones be bygones, as if your boys weren’t ordered to give us a hard time and start a fight, hmm? Not fucking happening.” 

Majima had all but crowded him out of the doorway now and the rest of the men were slowly backing up into the snow. “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna give us two shipments,” Majima held up two fingers, “Not one, two, to take back to Tokyo. And you’re gonna sign a guarantee that there will be a shipment every month waiting for us with your name on the fucking bottom, not your boss’s. Because guess who gets a visit from us again if there’s even a whisper of delay?” 

Tanaka looked like he regretted living to see this morning. “Yes, sir,” he whispered to the floor.

“And, just to prove there's no hard feelings, you will serve us breakfast, out here in the hut you feel we deserve. Make sure it's piping hot and a lot of it, we both put away half a cow each on a good day and I'm feeling like it's gonna be one hell of a morning!” His grin was all dazzling daggers in the sun. 

He turned back to Kiryu, hidden in the interior of the cabin, still sitting dejectedly on the futon. Majima was painful to look at in that early morning sun, the reflection off the snow making a blinding halo of backlight. Kiryu could just make out the fall of his hair as he tilted his head to trill, “Ain't that right, Kiryu-chan?”

Chapter Text

“I’m glad to see it was a profitable trip,” Dojima praised when Kiryu had finished giving his report. He stroked his mustache, eyeing the two crates of jewels just inside the door, “You did well.”

Kiryu bowed his head. “Thank you, Dojima-san, but it was really Majima-san who-”

“Fah!” Dojima snapped, interrupting Kiryu, “Not another word!”

Kiryu frowned, but hesitated to question his boss.

“As far as I’m concerned, you completed the transaction and therefore all your profits are entitled to me,” Dojima explained, greedy eyes drifting back to the crates, “and as a word of advice, learn to curb that honest tongue of yours. The Mad Dog is never going to amount to anything, but your reputation could do with a boost.” His beetle-black eyes turned back to Kiryu and he softened slightly, saying, “Take praise when it comes your way and don’t correct people. It’ll serve you well.” 

He must have thought that what he was saying was comforting because he smiled at Kiryu as he dismissed him, but Kiryu was only more concerned. He didn’t like taking credit he hadn’t earned and besides which, what was Dojima’s set against Majima about? He wanted to ask someone, but Dojima was right about one thing: Kiryu did have to look to his rep before he started making waves again. And Majima always seemed a touchy subject with everyone, especially the higher-ups.

He was so lost in confusion, he almost walked straight into Kashiwagi standing by the door. “Hey, Kiryu!” he called out, putting out a hand to stop him.

Kiryu startled, then relaxed to see such a familiar face. “Kashiwagi-san,” he smiled, “sorry, I was thinking about something.”

“Really? That’s a new hobby for you,” Kashiwagi smiled wryly, “I heard the trip went well, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Kiryu bowed his head again.

“Mostly I’m just glad you came back alive,” Kashiwagi continued, “Surviving an assignment with the Mad Dog is often easier said than done.”

Kiryu had to agree with that, but he wasn’t sure he had the same reasons. “I won’t be in a hurry to do it again,” Kiryu mused, then added, “He’s really not that bad, underneath it all.”

Kashiwagi raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take your word for it. Kazama-san, too, sends his congratulations and wishes you a happy home coming.”

Kiryu brightened at that. “Is he free?” 

“No, unfortunately,” Kashiwagi frowned in sympathy, “There’s a lieutenant’s meeting tonight. I expect it’s just Dojima wanting to gloat over your success, but it’s an official meeting nonetheless. If you hang around Serena the next couple of days, I’m sure he’ll buy you a drink when he can, though.”

Kiryu nodded and tried to be consoled by Kashiwagi’s words, he knew he was trying to be encouraging. “Yeah, I’m sure. Tell him I’d be glad to see him, if you have the chance,” Kiryu looked up at Kashiwagi hopefully.

Kashiwagi nodded solemnly. “Of course. Well, don’t let me keep you from celebrating, I think Nishiki was saying something about a shot for every yen you just made.” He winked, nodding to the door.

Kiryu took a deep breath. “I really hope I didn’t make that much then.” He had his hand on the door and was about to step into the bustling Kamurocho night, but paused. “Kashiwagi-san?” 


Kiryu knew he might regret this question, but he pressed on. “Why is everyone afraid of Majima-san?”

Kashiwagi looked surprised. He was silent a moment, having to think about the answer. “Because no one knows who he is, I think. Did something happen, Kiryu?”

Kiryu shook his head. “No, I was just curious. Thank you.” With that, he stepped out. Probably meant nothing good then that he wasn’t afraid.


As promised, Nishiki did try to drink him under the table. 

“Drink up, drink up! We still have thousands to go!” Nishiki grinned, already starting to sway on the barstool next to Kiryu, “You’re slow tonight, c’monnnn.” He whined.

Kiryu sighed over his fifth shot. He found he wasn’t really in the partying mood and would have rather spent a quiet evening in the Serena, but it seemed like that wouldn’t happen tonight. And he ought to be in a partying mood, this was a victory, it was just… 

“So what was partnering with the Mad Dog like? Got the battle scars to show for it?” Nishiki leaned close, curiosity gleaming in his eye. 

Kiryu glanced toward his arm and the thin scab under his new suit jacket. Hardly a battle scar. Not the Mad Dog reputation, not by a long shot. “Yeah, something like that.” He drank quickly. Wrestling in the snow, wrestling in the bed, Majima warm and languid next to him. “I’m, uh, still healing, so there’s not much to show.” He winced apologetically at Nishiki.

Nishiki nodded wisely. “I bet.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “But you gave him as good as you got though, right?” He smiled, wide and eager. He always wanted to hear the details of Kiryu’s fights and Kiryu knew that Majima was an opponent few had insight on. Of course Nishiki wanted to hear everything. 

His hands on Majima’s arms, on his shoulders, then pinned under him, helpless. “It was never one-sided,” Kiryu tried to smirk.

Nishiki snorted. “Yeah, right. Too modest by far, I bet you thrashed him good and he made you promise not to tell.” He wiggled his eyebrows, conspiring. 

Kiryu just shrugged. “Well, you’d have to ask him.” That, at least, was true. 

“Pfft! You’re so weird, Kiryu,” Nishiki shook his head, leaning a friendly hand on his shoulder, “Reina! Another round for the Dragon of Dojima!” 

“Of course!” Reina smiled, then added quietly just to Kiryu, “Sounds like you’ve been busy.”

Kiryu nodded heavily. “You can say that again,” he murmured.

“But you look like you’re not finished,” she added, setting the new shots on the counter.

Kiryu blinked and looked up at her carefully. She answered before he could ask, “A man who’s finished smiles when he’s partying. And only Nishiki is smiling.”

Kiryu grimaced, instantly guilty that he was ruining a good time.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered, glancing at the now raucously singing Nishikiyama, “I don’t think he’s noticed.”

“Thanks, Reina,” Kiryu murmured, “Next party, I’ll smile. Promise.”

Reina gave him a big, sweet smile herself. “You’re a good man, Kiryu-kun. You’ll figure it out.”

Kiryu sighed and lifted his shot glass. A look of panic, a clicking lighter, a pull in his chest. Kiryu swallowed fast. It’d be nice if he could figure it out faster. 


Kiryu should have swung back into his routine like a long open door finally closing. He wasn’t even gone that long, there was nothing to forget or feel differently about. And yet… He laid awake at night, comfortable on his own familiar futon, relaxed in exactly the clothes and temperature that he chose, and could not sleep. Questions buzzed in his head, incessant as flies, but just beyond his reach to answer. He desperately wanted someone to talk to about it all, what had happened and what… might have happened. But Kiryu had the strangest feeling that there was literally no one he could go to with this. 

Nishiki would be no help. If he breathed a word of interest about Majima, Kiryu was pretty sure Nishiki would disown him out of fear. It was madness, to Nishiki, impenetrable madness to even think of Majima as a person. At best Nishiki would laugh him into next week and refuse to let him take it back, but there would be no advice, no sincere consideration. Even if Kiryu approached him seriously, with more conviction than he would admit to, Nishiki would just be lost. No, he was bound somewhere his brother could not follow, Kiryu was sure of that.

Kashiwagi, too, would just stare at him blankly. He’d school himself into trying to be helpful fast enough, of course, but his first reaction, revulsion, concern, confusion, he could not hide that from Kiryu. He would sincerely try to help, but with the stilted patience of a worried parent. He’d consider this a bad decision that he could not dissuade his wayward son from, and so, was already mentally preparing for the fall out. This was Kashiwagi’s way with most things, Kiryu assumed he got it from Kazama. But Kiryu wasn’t sure he wanted the underlying assumption that he was wrong about this. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be talked down, or to endure someone he trusted and respected not trusting him.

Had Kazama been available, Kiryu didn’t think he could even go to him. Kazama had briefly given he and Nishiki a tutorial on relationships after their sex ed lesson in health class. He explained, when they pressed him for personal details, that sexual relationships between yakuza were not unheard of, but were always messy and often ill-fortuned. Kiryu gathered that that was all the context he and Nishiki were ever going to get on Kazama’s personal history. The only person Kiryu had ever seen him be close with was Kashiwagi, so perhaps that was fitting. Kazama would probably be less judgmental than Kashiwagi, but… something warned Kiryu away. He felt that if he whispered his half-formed desires to anyone the ground might split open and reveal land mines and quicksand where once he’d trusted dry land. He couldn’t say for sure why, but something in the way everyone feared and avoided Majima, the way Majima himself kept no one close, everyone at length, everyone at odds, made Kiryu worry that if he broke that impression, the earth itself might rebel under him. 

He tossed on his futon, rolling over and over again in search of comfort. His head was so full, he just wanted to clear it. Maybe then he could sleep. He thought longingly of a quiet cabin and a friend he could talk to about anything. But of all the fucking ironies, he couldn’t go to Majima with this. Had it been anyone else, Kiryu would have gladly called Majima this second and asked for his help. No one was as clever or as patient with him. Majima would have quit fighting him ages ago if he was a man to give up easy; patience was his real art. If he had been confused about anyone else, Majima would have helped, would have beaten him until his own thoughts made sense again and then made him laugh at the simplicity of the solution. God, he missed laughing with Majima. Had it really only been days ago they spent the night together? Everything since then was hazed in static. Kiryu flopped his arm over his eyes; this shit was fucking frustrating.

The days were no better. Kiryu wandered, listless, through the streets of Kamurocho. There was no pressing assignment, so it was business as usual, reminding small-time cons of their place and picking up cash where he could find it. A quick punch-up was usually a welcome relief to any tension he was experiencing, but right now, the fights all felt empty. Neither his head nor his heart was in it; not that that hurt his ability, no one got in more than a hit or two before they were unconscious on the ground. But Kiryu scarcely remembered any of their faces or crimes or indeed any of his own actions to stop them. The haze was still with him, blocking out nearly everything. 

It was in this confounding state of mind that he found himself at Shimano’s headquarters. Kiryu stopped in front of an off-white building, somehow clean despite all the rubbish strewn throughout the city. He leaned against the wall and took out a cigarette, taking a break from his endless query to take stock of his surroundings. He’d wandered quite far out as he didn’t recognize any of the local bars or clubs. He should probably be getting back before the sun went down and he’d have to beat his way home. He pushed off the unusual building and stepped back to see if it offered any directions and that’s when he finally noticed the family sign above the door. 

It wasn’t hiding, that wasn’t Shimano’s style; it was there in gold and black for anyone to read, Kiryu had just been too damn distracted to know where he was standing. He cursed himself and sucked hard on his cigarette. Maybe he could still walk away without being noticed, he’d only paused a minute or so. He started to walk away and, of course, as soon as he did, the door opened. The glass door was soundless, but the heavy tramp and brutish guffaw after it were not. Kiryu’s shoulders stiffened. Fuck, not a chance he wouldn’t be recognized.

“Oy, oy!” Shimano himself called out, taking a few steps in Kiryu’s direction, “Well, if it isn’t the pipsqueak of Dojima!” 

Kiryu reluctantly turned around and bowed to Shimano’s horrific smile. “Shimano-san, hello.” 

“You’re a long way from home, pipsqueak.” Shimano’s smile revealed even more yellow teeth. “You got a message from old Sohei, do you?” he inquired, unbuttoning his suit coat in the warm afternoon sun.

Kiryu shook his head, though realizing Shimano was no longer looking at him, but instead at a gaggle of young women across the street, he continued, “No, Shimano-san. I was just… in the neighborhood.” 

“Eh? No message?” Shimano turned back to him, his heavy-set brow furrowing, “Then you’re making a lousy fucking spy. Getting caught by the boss is no good.” He shook his head, chuckling. 

Kiryu bristled but knew he could not insult a captain. “My apologies for offending you, Shimano-san. I swear I was not spying. I got a little distracted and didn’t know where I was. I beg your forgiveness.” So saying, he bowed again, lower this time to make his apology seem sincere. 

Shimano guffawed, loud and mean. “You’re a polite dumbass at least! I’ll let it go.”

“Thank you, Shimano-san,” Kiryu murmured and was quickly taking advantage of the excuse to flee when Shimano accosted him again. 

“Not so fast, pipsqueak!” Shimano caught him by the shoulder, forcibly turning Kiryu back around. Kiryu worked hard to keep his resentment off his face; Shimano had no reason to physically force him, he would have turned around as manners dictated, it was only to dominate Kiryu that he did it. “I’ve just remembered that you owe me.”

Kiryu couldn’t help looking distressed this time. “What? I-I mean to say, I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Shimano-san.” He had to get out of here, everything this man said pissed him off. 

“Oh? You don’t know? Well, let me refresh your memory!” Shimano’s hand clamped down harder on his shoulder. “I, generously, gave Dojima one of my men to escort you up there. Now, to my reckoning, that means I’m entitled to a share of the profits. I provided the labor, I should see something for it. Wouldn’t you agree?” Shimano stood too close for Kiryu to make out his face properly. But he was sure his fat, ugly face was spread smug and expectant. 

Kiryu had no place to respond to this. This was an argument between captains, not a foot soldier. But he’d still be held accountable if he answered wrong. Kiryu bowed, as well as he could under Shimano’s grip. “I would be happy to give your complaint to Dojima-san, sir. Please allow me to deliver this message as soon as possible so this grievance can be corrected.” 

Shimano leaned back, squinting at him, but could not find direct fault with that response. He pulled Kiryu upright and clapped him on the back, releasing him. “Who said anything about a grievance?” He spread his hands innocently. “I was merely asking if you thought it was fair to provide something for nothing in return?” He wheedled. 

Kiryu could feel the trap closing around him, but could not figure out why Shimano was after him. His mind raced to find a way out, but he could think of nothing. And the truth, the truth that Majima had simply given him the extra crate, that there had been no debate or even discussion over it, Kiryu guessed would not make matters better for anyone. But he had to get out of this, one way or another. And it was then his eyes caught a flicker of motion behind Shimano and only belatedly registered the short black hair and glittering jacket. 

Shimano, though, caught the change in Kiryu’s attention and turned to see Majima, standing dumbstruck behind him. “Ah, Majima! Perhaps you can settle this debate we’re having.” The man leered and beckoned  Majima into their narrow circle. 

Majima’s face was totally blank, but his walk had a certain stiffness to it. Kiryu noticed that Majima came right to the edge of the intimate space Shimano gestured, but did not actually enter it. It didn’t seem to bother Shimano at all, but Kiryu had seen a lot of Majima’s body language recently and he read distress loud and clear.

Shimano directed his unnecessary force to Majima now, squeezing his shoulder. “I was just asking Kiryu-chan here why it is that Dojima has two jewel crates where I have none, even though you were both on assignment.” Kiryu watched Shimano peer into Majima’s face while Majima held still, unflinching, untelling. 

“Dojima-san is a greedy man, Shimano-san,” Majima replied quickly, “When he heard reports of two crates, he must have assumed they were his.”

Shimano laughed. “Very good, very good answer,” he nodded, squeezing Majima’s arm more tightly, “Though I’m not sure I believe it.” 

Kiryu’s jaw tightened. To see anyone treat Majima this way, worse, to see Majima not even fight back… Kiryu wouldn’t have believed this was possible if he wasn’t looking right at it. And he hated it. He tried to catch Majima’s eye, but Majima wouldn’t even look at him, just stared into the distance, as if he was completely detached from what was happening here.

“What do I keep you around for, eh? If you can’t even keep control of a shipment of goods.” Shimano shoved Majima forward with a hard hand between his shoulders, forcing him to stumble and almost fall. Kiryu started to step to catch him, but Majima caught himself and straightened, still with that distant look in his eye that was beginning to unnerve Kiryu. 

Shimano adjusted his suit, glancing across the street as the clubs started to light their fronts for the night. “Some useless dog you are,” he snorted, “Toothless, as usual.” 

Kiryu wanted to snarl that it was only because of Majima that there even were two crates, but as if Majima could hear his thoughts, Majima finally looked at him. Kiryu started, reading the warning in his look, even if he didn’t understand it. 

Shimano sniffed, his eyes on the pretty streetwalkers and his focus at last leaving this discussion for good. “I’m still interested in what you have to say, Kiryu-chan,” he smiled over Majima’s shoulder, “But we’ll leave that discussion for another time. Give Dojima my regards, won’t you?” With that and a dismissive wave, Shimano turned over his heel and strode off into the night. 

Kiryu exhaled hard and drew breath to start begging Majima for answers, but Majima took off like a shot past Kiryu the second he heard Shimano leave. Kiryu barely had time to turn and watch him dart into a sidestreet and be lost in the smoky dark of Kamurocho. His heart beat painfully, sinking low. He conceded that now maybe was not the best time to talk, but this encounter had left him with even more questions. It had found him at least one answer though: he did hate anyone who treated Majima with disdain.


Days passed and no further answers came. But the tension inside Kiryu was turning into an ache. Anything that reminded him of Majima triggered a wonderful soreness in his mind, but like any other bruise, he could not resist poking at it. Driven to exorcise his feelings, or combust with the intensity of them, most nights found him down at the karaoke bar, singing his loneliness to an empty room and drowning his sorrows. 

Maybe this would never resolve. He wasn’t likely to run into Majima again. After that brief encounter, he was very sure Majima would avoid him as much as possible now. He supposed that he could go find Majima himself, but it would not be Majima he found. Or, not the Majima he wanted to talk to, he would meet the public face, the Mad Dog, not the elusive person behind it that he nearly, nearly had in his grasp and… blew it. Maybe that was the only shot he got and this was what he had to live with now.

He was just walking out of the private karaoke room, frustrated and drained as every other night, when he recognized a slim figure at the bar counter. 

“Heyyyy, Kiryu-chan.” Majima looked up at him with a smile.

Kiryu’s vision narrowed to just Majima. His chest felt lighter than it had in days and Kiryu was so relieved, so pleased to see him he didn't bother to evaluate the feeling or consider how near obsessive his focus had become. 

“Majima-onii-san,” Kiryu sighed, feeling like he was floating as he walked towards Majima. 

“Heard you were coming here more frequently than usual. Didn't take you for a karaoke guy, ya been holding out on me!” Majima wagged a finger at him as Kiryu sat down next to him, knees knocking together. 

Kiryu barely heard. The ache inside him had turned to physical duress. He was panting, he realized, and there was a roar in his ears, slowly building in pitch. He felt so close to finally snapping this tension, finally having some peace, it was all he could think about. 

“, Kiryu-chan?” Majima nudged his shoulder and Kiryu jumped in his seat. 

“Huh? What was that, sorry?” All Kiryu knew was the shine of Majima’s eye and a desperate desire to know what secrets lay behind it. 

“Earth to Kiryu-chan! I asked you if you liked…” He stopped and Kiryu swallowed, worried he'd offended Majima with his inattentiveness. Majima was staring at him now, inscrutable and intense. Kiryu could feel his cheeks heating but didn’t want to look away. The roaring in his ears grew deafening. 

“Are you busy tonight?” Kiryu blurted into the silence. He hadn’t fully meant to ask but his subconscious seemed to be holding the reins at the moment. 

Majima regarded him and his lips turned up, just so. “Would it matter if I said yes?” 

Kiryu had no idea what he was supposed to say to that and Majima must have realized that because he hastily added, hushed and intimate, “I have absofuckinglutely nothing going on.” There was almost a plea in his voice. 

The intensity of Majima’s response should have scared Kiryu, but all it did was spur him on. “Good.” His voice nearly cracked with desperation and he grabbed Majima’s arm, pulling him up in a rush and almost running for the door. He wasn’t consciously aware of all he was doing, but his body doggedly took charge for him. Next to him, Majima was all breathless giggles and soon their hands were intertwined to make it easier to run together. Kiryu’s heart nearly broke with satisfaction. 

They were nearly halfway there when Majima finally asked, “Kiryu-chan, where are we going?” And Kiryu realized he hadn’t actually articulated it. He’d just assumed on the strength of his desire alone Majima would know. And worse, knowing nothing, Majima had followed him anyway.

“Uh, m-my place,” he stuttered, feeling sheepish and determined all at once. 

Majima beamed. “Then what’re we waiting for, let’s go!” He charged ahead, dragging Kiryu behind him now. 

Kiryu gasped a laugh. “You don’t even know where we’re going.” He shook his head, stumbling behind Majima’s hellbent pace. 

“Ya underestimate me, Kiryu-chan.” Majima smirked as he anxiously waited for traffic before darting through the next street. 

Kiryu glanced at the street sign and, lo and behold, it was the right one. He leaned into a long, loud laugh. “You’re such a bastard,” he wheezed as they arrived on the correct doorstep. 

“That I am.” Majima grinned wide and sharp under the streetlight. Kiryu could kiss him. Kiryu could kiss him. He could… fuck, keys. Kiryu pawed at his own pockets before remembering how to use his fingers and extricated the right key, slamming it into the outer door. They nearly scrambled over each other up the stairs to Kiryu’s apartment, soaked in adrenaline, anticipation, and arousal. 

Kiryu paused to take a breath at his own front door, willing himself not to lose it and fuck Majima like an animal right here in the doorway. It wasn’t that he thought they both wouldn’t enjoy it, but he wanted this, their first time to be a bit better than that. After all, they’d waited this long. 

“Did ya forget how keys work again?” Majima panted against the lintel. 

“Mmm-mmm,” Kiryu shook his head, “I just… I want this.” He dared, beyond all reason, to look at Majima. “And I wanted to remember the moment before.” 

Kiryu couldn’t follow the emotions passing over Majima’s face fast enough. He swallowed and Kiryu caught that something large and slippery was inside, but Majima wasn’t willing to share quite yet. “Well. Fuck me, Kiryu-chan’s a poet,” he muttered roughly. 

Kiryu let himself grin as he turned the key in the lock. “That’s the idea.”

The apartment was modest, not much more than two rooms and a kitchenette, not that any of that mattered right now as their only goal was the bedroom. Having slowed down to enter, they both stood awkwardly inside, swimming in electricity, but unsure what to do about it. Kiryu closed the door quickly and looked up at Majima, who just looked back at him, like even now he was afraid of something. 

Kiryu licked his lips, guessing that he’d have to make the first move here. His mind scrambled for something cool, something sexy, something that would not scream virgin. His body couldn’t take this waffling though, he reached for Majima, taking his hand and pulling him a few stumbling steps towards the bedroom. Majima came as willingly as a dog on a leash. 

“I’m still thinking about it,” Kiryu gasped, his brain catching up with his actions just as they entered the bedroom. 

Majima blinked hard, mystified. “What?” His low voice had a ragged edge to it, like he couldn’t quite believe they were still talking

Kiryu looked up at him as he sat down on his futon, hand still on Majima’s, tugging him down with him. “In the cabin, you asked me what I wanted.” Kiryu was shaking now and his voice started to tremble. 

Majima’s eye widened and he pulled out of Kiryu’s grip to slide his hands up Kiryu’s body, feeling him shiver. Majima pressed close, pulling Kiryu to him in the same movement. He pushed his forehead against Kiryu’s as they panted the same sweaty breaths together. He said nothing, but his shy fingers curled into Kiryu’s shirt in a mute plea.

Kiryu’s hips canted themselves, spreading his legs, inviting Majima to grind against him. “You,” he nearly choked, “You.” Majima barely let him get the word out, kissing him in a rush of needy lips and cooled saliva. Kiryu whimpered, god help him, surprised by how cold their mouths were, but not for long. Kiryu slid a hand under Majima’s coat, his fingers curling around his neck, pulling him closer. Majima needed no further instruction and expertly hitched Kiryu’s hips onto his lap, swinging them upright with a firm arm around his back.

Kiryu gasped, finding himself nestled in Majima's lap. He looked down at him, about to ask. 

"You'll feel more this way," Majima explained, his hand pressing at Kiryu’s back, urging him closer. 

Kiryu obeyed, folding his legs around Majima and willingly pressing up against him. “Fuck,” he gasped, really feeling Majima’s chest for the first time, not distracted by the best way to injure him, “You’re so hot.” His brain slowly realized this was absolutely a virgin thing to say as Majima tried to hide a laugh. 

Trying his best to save Kiryu’s dignity, Majima just smiled. “So are you,” he replied, threading his fingers between Kiryu’s buttons. 

Kiryu started, then remembered Majima took to wearing gloves. Kiryu grabbed his hand and started pulling it off, too hurried to be seductive. Kiryu felt Majima’s eye on him and blushed at Majima’s unasked question. “I was… mmm,” he mumbled, paused with Majima’s long-fingered hand in his, “What you said about… feeling…” Majima saved him from the rest, taking his other hand off his hip and removing the glove himself. He slid his hands up Kiryu’s shirt and started unbuttoning it, making lots of room for touching. 

“This better?” he asked, leaning up to press a soft kiss to Kiryu’s jaw. 

“Yes,” Kiryu gulped. Majima’s hands untucking his shirt, flirting with his waistband. “Y-Yes.” Majima’s hands drawing lines over his neck and collarbone, his mouth trailing over his jaw. “Yes.” His fingers moving down, pressing on his pecs, thumbing his nipples, making sure Kiryu could feel all of it, all of it. “Yes!” He felt like crying, like singing, he didn’t know anything could feel so good at once. And he wanted to make Majima feel that way too. He scrabbled at Majima’s shoulders, immediately mad at how stiff and unyielding the snake scales were. He pulled and tugged at the jacket, even as Majima methodically worked down his neck with kisses over his pulse and behind his ear and- oh fuck, it was hard to think now. 

“Mmm, you wanted something?” 

Kiryu swam back to himself through a fog of ecstasy, still trembling from all Majima’s kisses and teasing. His eyes readjusted to find Majima self-assuredly rocking him in his lap and smirking up at him, lips red from all the sucking he was just doing a second ago. Kiryu wanted to punch the smug look off his face, but far more he wanted to kiss it away. Rather than confirm what Majima already knew though, he dug his heels into Majima’s back, forcing him to arch closer, and whined petulantly, tugging uselessly at his jacket. 

“What, this?” Majima took a hand off him to pull at his own lapel. 

Kiryu hissed at the absence and grabbed Majima’s hand back, but instead of putting it around him, where it had been holding him tight, he put it to his mouth and started licking at Majima’s fingertips. He wasn’t the only one who could fucking tease, damn it. 

“Oh, now that’s…” It was Majima’s turn to shiver now as Kiryu sucked quite ardently on his first two fingers, working them with saliva and the hot-soft press of his tongue. Kiryu actually watched Majima’s eye flutter closed and his mouth drop as he panted. Ha fucking ha, he stowed that mental image away for later. 

After a moment though, Kiryu could feel Majima thrusting his fingers into his mouth unaided. Majima was recovering now and there was a terrible, hungry look in his eye. Kiryu worried he might regret having baited him. “So, a little fucking cocktease, are we?” he snarled, lip curling, revealing shiny teeth. His fingers pressed and spread Kiryu’s lips, getting Kiryu’s curious tongue between his fingers. Kiryu swallowed, greedily watching Majima’s intent expression before finally withdrawing his fingers, pulling a long line of spit with them. 

Kiryu whined, but Majima cut him off with a look. “If you keep doing that, you’re never going to get me out of these clothes,” he chided. 

Kiryu pouted. “Well, you were moving too slow.”

Majima stopped dead, his eye going very wide and Kiryu’s brain caught up with how stupid that was to say. A split second later, Majima had pitched them forward, slamming Kiryu onto his back, his legs still, somehow, tight around Majima’s waist as Majima grabbed a handful of his hair, pulling his neck back. “Cocktease and a hypocrite too,” Majima hissed, sinking his teeth against the rosy bruise he’d sucked onto Kiryu’s neck earlier, causing Kiryu to jerk against him. Kiryu was back to breathless gasping, heart hammering in his chest. 

“I really wouldn’t complain about the pace, if I were you,” Majima purred in his ear, so close Kiryu more felt the vibrations of his voice than heard him. He whimpered again, helplessly clutching at Majima in supplication. Fuck, how could it all be so intense? 

Majima relented briefly, nuzzling Kiryu’s face as he buried it in his shoulder, trying to escape. Then slowly, agonizingly, Majima rolled his hips, just once, just to give him a taste of what he was missing, earning a sigh from Kiryu that tapered into a little choked whine at the end. Then Majima pushed him down again, just enough to look him in the eye. “I could go much slower than this, Kiryu-chan.” His eye sparkled. 

Kiryu well believed him and nodded quickly. “I- I’m sorry,” he tried, but Majima shushed him with a finger to his lips, bending low to start kissing down his chest.

“And you ,” Majima muttered between kisses, pulling at his chest hair with his teeth while Kiryu shuddered, “had me buck naked in that cabin and didn’t do a thing .” He moved a hand down to press tellingly on Kiryu’s hip, his fingers just on the inside of dangerous. Kiryu bucked, feeling a live wire of nerves he didn’t even know he had under Majima’s touch. Majima leered up at him, taking in Kiryu’s helpless looks, before working his fingers along the inseam of his pants. Kiryu hissed and gasped by turns, almost sick with how bad he wanted Majima to just fucking touch him already and- And all at once, Majima stopped. 

Kiryu’s head snapped up, ready to scream in frustration, but Majima was just waiting, hovering above him, not touching him at all. Kiryu swallowed slowly under Majima’s thoughtful gaze. “It’s enough to make a guy wonder if he was misreading things.” He cocked his head, like Kiryu was some curious art piece he couldn’t make out. 

Kiryu, with some difficulty given the obscene tent in his pants now, sat up. Majima didn’t move, just watched him. Kiryu thought he understood now why Majima was so patient, what he was waiting for. It’d taken him this long to figure out, but at last he thought he had it. He gently pushed Majima into a sitting position too. Majima frowned, but obeyed, sitting back on his heels. Kiryu scooted close and began to pull off Majima’s jacket himself, peeling it off as gently as he could. Majima only helped marginally, letting Kiryu move him and touch him however he wanted. Kiryu cast the jacket aside and shrugged off his own shirt. 

Kiryu knew what the next obvious move was, but somehow that didn’t feel quite right. If all he wanted was Majima’s cock, this probably would have been a lot easier. Instead, he was gunning for something a lot more dangerous and a lot less comprehensible. He couldn’t really blame Majima for wanting to know for sure. Kiryu could feel an itch in his palm telling him what he wanted, but Majima was looking at him, just a little too open to be lying, and he knew if he fucked this up, he could scare Majima off for good. Better to move slow then. 

Enduring the eye contact the whole time, Kiryu lifted his hand. Majima’s focus shifted imperceptibly, aware of the movement. Good, Kiryu didn’t want to take him by surprise. He leaned forward slowly, bringing his hand closer. Majima didn’t move, didn’t flinch or brace, but Kiryu could hear his breathing change in anticipation. He could just touch his chest, his neck, even his back. Those were all probably safe and would at least prevent a nuclear fall out. But Kiryu didn’t want to signal safety. The risk-reward ratio was too low for his tastes. If he was going to do something, and Kiryu was very much afraid he was going to do something here, he was going to do it whole, not half, not part. That’s the only way doing things ever made sense to him. And Majima… Majima deserved something whole.

He let his fingers brush Majima’s face. Majima tensed then, finally, a skittish instinct he couldn’t overcome. Kiryu didn’t mind. He pressed his palm to his cheek, his fingers just touching the line of the eyepatch, realizing with a start how much it dug into his skin. He cupped his face and at last that itch was sated, his thumb coming up to rub his short bristle of mustache and goatee. Majima was trembling, his breaths coming in short hisses. He looked shattered, staring at Kiryu with a sort of awe that Kiryu didn’t really want to face. But for all that, he was…. “Beautiful.” 

Majima’s eye widened, then shut, nuzzling his hand in a slow, tender motion. Shit, he must have really said that then.  He nudged closer, longing to be back in Majima’s lap, to have the whole of him in his arms, under and around him. He couldn’t get enough. Kiryu brought his other hand up, holding Majima’s face like a treasure. Majima blinked at him, his face now almost entirely obscured as Kiryu gently pulled him closer. It finally came to him now, what he should have said, what Majima needed to hear. 

“Please,” Kiryu begged, before pressing his lips to Majima’s again, desperate for that warm curl in his belly when Majima kissed him back. 

Majima, in a rare moment of clumsiness, flung himself at Kiryu, haphazardly scrambling into his lap. Kiryu had to lean back to contain him and in their momentary fumbling, the eye patch slipped off. Kiryu didn’t notice at first, too busy keeping Majima’s face where he could kiss it, but Majima immediately flinched, ducking, his hand flying up to cover the injury. He turned his whole face away, searching for the eyepatch with his free hand. 

Kiryu found it, tangled accidentally in his fingers. He slipped it back into Majima’s hand as carefully as he could. Majima snatched it back, then swallowed hard. “You didn’t see… did you?” He kept his gaze down, not that Kiryu could see much of his face at this point.

Kiryu shook his head. “No, nothing.” He kept his hands off Majima, nervously curling them at his sides. 

Majima nodded curtly. He started to lift the eyepatch then hesitated. 

“Do you… I can um…” Kiryu swallowed and scratched the back of his neck, “I can‒ look away, if that’s easier…” 

Majima was silent a long moment, then exhaled very slowly. Kiryu watched him turn back to face him, hardly daring to breathe. Majima kept his hand tight over the left side of his face, then, with great effort, started to lift his hand. Kiryu’s breath came sharp in surprise and instantly regretted it, fearing he’d upset Majima. But Majima didn’t stop, his fingers came away slowly, but surely, and at last the dark indent where his second eye should have been was revealed. 

Kiryu swallowed hard. It almost looked normal, like just a really bad black eye. Except for how hollow it was, except for the way the skin sagged with nothing to be stretched over, except for the little white scar on his lower lid where whatever took his eye got the skin too. No, actually, there was no way not to know what had been done to him. 

“Pretty fucking ugly, isn’t it?”

Kiryu started. He looked away from the evidence to take in Majima again, head bowed, staring numbly at the floor, eyepatch still clenched tight in his fist. Part of Kiryu knew this was heartbreaking and part of him was outraged, but a third part of him knew that Majima wanted nothing to do with either of those feelings. He hadn’t shown this to him so he could get angry or feel bad for him. He didn’t walk around every day bearing that eyepatch, a knife, and a grin, so that people would feel bad for him. 

Kiryu cleared his throat. “They tell stories about you, y’know.” 

Majima’s eyebrows wrinkled and he started to lift his head. 

“The new guys especially but even some of the old hands,” Kiryu pressed on quickly, “They say you cry blood, some of them even say you do it intentionally, to freak out your opponents.” 

Majima started to smile. 

“They say that you can steal souls,” Kiryu grinned, “if anyone sees what’s under your eyepatch, it’ll take their soul and then they have to do your bidding for eternity.” 

Majima started to laugh. 

“Some of them even, and I swear this got passed around by a guy you beat into a dumpster, claim that you gave your eye to a demon in exchange for one that could tell the future. That’s why‒ stop it‒ that’s why no one can catch you in a fight!” They were both laughing now, Majima pawing at Kiryu to stop, Kiryu not quite batting him away. “You see all the moves coming!” Kiryu wheezed. 

Majima doubled over, head butting Kiryu’s chest, almost crying with laughter. “Fuck, I remember that guy!” he gasped, “He moved like an ox, it was too fucking easy to run circles around him.” He giggled, passing a hand over his face to wipe a tear. “Easier to pretend I’m a demon than admit he’s slower than my fucking grandma, I suppose.” Majima smirked at Kiryu. 

Kiryu shook off the laughter and got his face straight and serious. Majima started to react, but Kiryu cut him off, holding him tight so he couldn’t back off. “But you are a demon,” he nodded firmly. 

Majima eyed him, eyebrow raised. “Kiryu-chan…?”

“I’ve been under your spell since we left the bar.” Kiryu gulped.

Majima burst into a new fit of laughter. Kiryu blushed, but did not regret it at all. 

“You’re so fucking cheesy!” Majima gasped, clutching Kiryu’s shoulder with one hand and wiping a fresh tear with the other. Kiryu noticed, with a surge of something in his chest, that the eyepatch was no longer present. 

“I’ve been under your spell a lot longer than that, actually,” Kiryu murmured, cheeks red hot but figuring he had already started this, “Sorry it took me so long to figure out.” 

Majima sobered a little at that, regarding him at arm’s length. “Awww, now Kiryu-chan, why’d you have to go and say a thing like that? Ruining the mood and all.”

Kiryu squirmed and opened his mouth to apologize, but Majima pressed his fingers over his lips and smiled. Clearing his throat, Majima wrapped his legs snugly around Kiryu’s middle and continued, “I thought we were just here to fuck like rabbits but now ya giving me butterflies.” 

Kiryu had to press a kiss to Majima’s fingertips in response to the tender look he was giving him just then. He had one or two butterflies himself, come to mention it. Not that that was a problem in Kiryu’s mind. 

Majima leaned close and his smile started to spread a little too wide. “For that, I’m gonna treat ya extra nice,” he purred, curling his fingers into the back of Kiryu’s head and pulling his neck back to kiss down his barely recovered pulse once more. 

Kiryu’s eyes widened, a little afraid now, but mostly excited as his still hard cock reminded him. Majima’s muscular legs squeezed him tight and he rolled his hips, causing Kiryu to hiss. 

“Ah, then ya are still interested,” Majima breathed in his ear, then looked down, leering. “Just had to check,” he hummed, returning to the business of kissing down Kiryu’s shoulder and neck and letting his hands fall to Kiryu’s belt, unlatching it immediately. 

Kiryu jerked and scrabbled for Majima’s hips, panting a little too eagerly. “Of course, I’m fucking interested,” his frustrated brain babbled before he could think better of it, “You’re half-naked on top of me and- ha!” He choked, Majima having unzipped him and unabashedly palmed him through his underwear. 

He could tell Majima was chuckling by the rhythmic puffs of breath against his neck but he couldn’t muster the brain cells for embarrassment now. As long as Majima kept touching him, he didn’t care if the whole Tojo Clan knew he was a virgin. He wouldn’t be for much longer at this rate.

“Too fucking cute…” Majima growled before kissing him hungrily, almost devouring his lips between tongue and teeth. Kiryu just had to hold on for the ride, trying to give back as good as he got, but it was hard to concentrate with Majima’s fingers working his shaft. All he could really do was whimper back and pull Majima closer, his fingers digging in as hard as the stubborn leather would let him. 

“Y’know,” Majima broke after a moment, panting himself, “there ain’t no call to stand on ceremony.” His gaze was dark and lidded, capturing Kiryu’s full attention, compromised though it was. He squirmed his hips under Kiryu’s touch. “If you were waiting for permission, it’s yours.” 

Kiryu swallowed. He hadn’t realized he was being shy until Majima said. Trying to push away the sudden self-consciousness, Kiryu slid one hand around to Majima’s ass and squeezed. He’d never properly felt up a man before, or anyone come to that, and he wasn’t entirely sure about what he was doing. 

Majima giggled and pushed his ass into Kiryu’s touch with an arch of his back. “Such a polite boy.” He smiled down at him, making Kiryu flush again. 

“Awww, c’mere.” Majima took pity on him, taking his hands off him to unbutton himself. Kiryu whined a protest, his cock throbbing in discontent. 

Majima tsked. “So needy . Just hold on a second now, ya won’t be sorry,” he explained, starting to wriggle the hot, supple leather off his hips.

Kiryu growled in his throat, about to offer another complaint, but he was quickly distracted by Majima’s cock springing into view as Majima shoved his pants down to a tight belt across his thighs. 

“Thaaat’s better,” Majima sighed, settling his bare ass between Kiryu’s knees, “Eh, Kiryu-chan?” 

Kiryu’s brain felt like soup, overcome with the sight of Majima’s hard cock gently bobbing in front of him and the sensation of Majima’s ass resting warmly on his legs. “Hnnn?” he eventually managed, dragging his eyes up to Majima’s face. 

Majima was smiling and licking his lips. He lifted Kiryu’s hand for him and pressed it firmly against his ass cheek. “C’mon, don’cha quit on me now,” he teased, bucking a little to get Kiryu’s attention refocused. 

Kiryu gasped at the hot, soft flesh suddenly under his hand, but his instincts took over fast. His fingers dug in without any conscious decision to do so, releasing a whine from Majima. His hands sated their curiosity, palming and squeezing Majima’s cheeks as much as they wanted as his mouth fell to adoring Majima’s skin. His lips and teeth lavished Majima’s throat as he moaned and writhed at his touch. Kiryu almost giggled, feeling the vibrations of his voice before he heard them. He was beginning to love the fast intake of Majima’s breath with every hard squeeze and he regretted the obstruction of Majima’s pants so that he couldn’t pull Majima against him and grind with abandon. 

Majima dragged his fingers down Kiryu’s back, making him press closer. Kiryu adjusted his grip on him and let one finger swipe down his crack. Majima bucked, a pathetic whimper escaping him when Kiryu just brushed his anus. “Fuckkk,” Majima moaned, his hands desperate on Kiryu’s shoulders, his eye fluttering, “it’s been too long…” 

Kiryu flushed but was glad he wasn’t the only one saying more than he probably should. He lifted his mouth off Majima’s neck as he came back to himself, a question striking him. 

Majima just patted his face, heedless of the saliva smeared all over. “Not today, that’d take too long,” Majima explained and Kiryu wondered if it was more for his benefit or Majima’s, “And I promised to treat ya.” With a sigh, Majima unlatched his legs from around Kiryu and swung off him. 

Kiryu wanted to protest, but Majima had his hands on him again almost instantly. He pulled off his shoes, throwing them aside, then tugged at his waistband. Kiryu instinctively lifted his hips, letting Majima slip off the rest of his clothing in a long fluid motion. 

Majima looked him up and down, appraisingly. “You’re a sight for sore eye, Kiryu-chan,” he sighed.

Kiryu just blushed and swallowed as Majima bent down, pushing Kiryu’s legs apart. It was only when Majima settled on his belly that Kiryu at last realized what Majima intended. 

“Wait, wait!” he gulped, hastily pushing at Majima’s hands as they braced against his thighs. 

“Awww?” Majima frowned from between his legs, his fingers idly tapping on the sensitive skin, “I promise it’ll feel real nice.” He winked. “I’ve been told I’ve got a knack for it.” And he leered, directing his gaze back to Kiryu’s erection and licking his lips. 

Kiryu choked on a whimper, but closed his eyes and focused on breathing so he could continue. “I- I don’t doubt it, but- you don’t have to do that for me,” he mumbled. 

“Who said anything about doing it for you?” Majima whined, pinching his thigh. 

Kiryu flinched and blinked down at him. “Wh-What?”

“Can’t a guy just want to suck another guy’s dick?” Majima leered again and Kiryu spluttered into laughter. 

Majima beamed up at him and wrapped his fingers around Kiryu’s shaft, only applying gentle pressure to ease him out of the laughter. 

“Ah, ah…” Kiryu gasped, looking down at Majima, “But-”

“It ain’t no hardship for me,” Majima insisted, flicking his tongue out over Kiryu’s head once. Kiryu hissed, but Majima continued. “And you’ll have your chance to reciprocate, if that’s what’s worrying ya.” He glanced up at Kiryu. “Ya got me rather aching for it,” he growled in that low register he only used when he was being sincere. 

Kiryu shivered, still blushing, but hearing Majima confirm that this wasn’t going to be one-sided did reassure him. He sat back a little and Majima read the relaxation immediately. With little more than a snarl of hunger, Majima seized on him, pulling his mouth over Kiryu’s head in a wet kiss. Kiryu squeaked in surprise, his hips jerking instinctively, but Majima clearly wasn’t new to this and had a hand exactly where he needed to on Kiryu’s pelvis to stop him. Majima kept his other hand on Kiryu’s shaft, gently pushing at his foreskin, letting him get used to all the feelings. 

Kiryu was distantly reminded of being in a jacuzzi, with the hot water containing him, but this was much, much better than that. Majima’s mouth was plush and focused and moving ever-so slightly around him. He could feel Majima’s lips rolling around the edge of his head, taking the edge of his foreskin and then not. He was just getting his breathing back when Majima moved his tongue, lapping at Kiryu’s head.

“Hnngh!” Kiryu groaned, his breath leaving him hard, “D-Do that again.”

Majima obeyed, licking at him in broad, fat strokes. Kiryu’s toes curled and his legs tried to squirm against the pleasure. Majima didn’t seem to mind, focused on his task. The hand on his shaft slowly tightened and Kiryu whimpered. His squirming became more insistent and his hand shot out of its own volition, curling into Majima’s hair. 

Majima broke off, grinning up at him. “There ya are,” he panted, “Go ahead and tug when ya feel like it. I want ya to come undone.”

Kiryu had to bite his lip to stifle a moan. No one had ever said this kind of thing to him before and he had greatly underestimated how hot it was. Majima had always had a charming mouth and- Kiryu’s thoughts fizzled out into incoherent moans and grunts as Majima bobbed his head, taking more of him into his mouth each time, his tongue lingering on his underside with each pull, saving a good strong lick for his tip as he went.

Kiryu gurgled and clawed futilely at any bit of Majima he could reach. His hips started rocking themselves, following Majima’s pace. His mouth just stayed open, gasping breaths between the most embarrassing noises he’d ever made. 

Majima broke off again and Kiryu almost cried, looking heartbroken at him. “Shhh, trust me,” Majima hushed, sitting up with one hand tight on his base, “I got you.” He held him tight enough that Kiryu nearly didn’t have a reason to complain, but his eyebrows still scrunched as Majima leaned close, looking at him intently.  

Majima lifted one of his hands, keeping the other tight, and started licking his hand thoroughly. “You’re just too fucking cute, Kiryu-chan,” he explained, keeping eye contact with him between dripping fingers, “I wanna see this.” He spat on his palm for good measure and slid his hand firmly over Kiryu’s head. 

Kiryu jerked and his head snapped back. Majima closed his hand around him again and started jerking him off at a blinding pace, slick smacks marking the tempo. Kiryu writhed under the onslaught, his arms coming up to clutch onto Majima. “P-Please…” he whimpered, his eyes opening just enough to make out Majima staring back at him, lips parted, hypnotized. “Pleeease,” Kiryu whined again, burying his face in Majima’s neck. 

“Come on, baby, I got you,” Majima murmured in his ear and then he did something with his hand, twisted his wrist somehow, and it let Kiryu thrust into his fist with abandon. 

Kiryu cried out something garbled, he wasn’t sure it was even meant to be words, but in a few short thrusts he was coming over Majima’s fingers and Majima pumped him through it all, the slick sound of their skin getting squelchier. Kiryu eventually slowed, shuddering, and laid back against the futon, completely limp and spent. 

Majima leaned over him, Kiryu’s eyes were closed but he could feel the heat of his body thrumming close by. And when he opened his eyes he found Majima beaming at him with the biggest, dopiest smile he’d ever seen. 

“What?” Kiryu groaned, voice thicker and rougher than he would have liked. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Majima whispered, full of adoration, “You’re fucking gorgeous, Kiryu-chan.”

Kiryu hid his face in his hands. Now that he wasn’t wound tighter than wrestler’s knots, the embarrassment at his own vulnerability was much stronger. And yet, he felt like a dam had broken inside him and he was awash with a sort of warmth and relief that made regret impossible. If Majima looking at him like a holy object was the price he had to pay for this, well. There were worse things. 

Recovering a little, Kiryu lowered his hands to find Majima licking his cum off his fingers. His hands nearly went right back up, but instead he just cringed. “You don’t have to-” Majima looked up at him innocently, not stopping. “Let me get you a towel or something,” Kiryu insisted, sitting up and casting around for something suitable. 

Majima just shrugged. “What for? You were gonna come in my mouth anyway.”

Kiryu’s eyes dropped closed. Maybe regret was possible after all. Majima giggled and Kiryu turned his face away, blushing. 

“So prim,” Majima teased, crawling over to Kiryu and planting a big kiss on Kiryu’s mouth before he could react. 

Kiryu flinched away. “Ugh!” He wiped his own cum off his mouth. “Why’re you… blehhh…”

Majima cackled. “Virgin’s penalty,” he mocked, “and what, you’ve really never tasted it?”

Kiryu stopped dead and Majima burst with laughter. Kiryu stiffened and decided to just wait out his laughing fit, scowling at him the whole time. 

Majima finally came back down, rolling onto his back and revealing his cock still hard and ready. “So, having second thoughts then?” he wheedled, head cocked. 

Kiryu’s scowl turned into a glare, pushing forward to take the dare head on, but Majima grabbed his wrists before he could do anything. 

Majima waited until he looked up at him to say, “Seriously. Ya don’t have to.” His face had that same warm, soft quality that made Kiryu’s knees weak. Why’d he have to look at him like that? 

Kiryu swallowed hard and summoned a determined look. “No offense, but there’s about 80 businesses outside where I could have gotten the same thing you just did. I didn’t want just that.”

That seemed to bring Majima up short. He was quiet, then slowly whistled, staring at Kiryu with one wide eye. “Damn, Kiryu-chan,” he blinked rapidly, “Every time I think I’ve got ya pinned, ya find a new way to hit me.”

Kiryu wasn’t sure if he should be worried about that or not, but now was probably not the right time to discuss it. Instead he swallowed and continued, “What about you? Second thoughts?”

Majima’s eye flickered in surprise and then he started to smile. “Me?” He leaned back, releasing Kiryu’s wrists. “Ohhh, Kiryu-chan, I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.” As his back touched the floor, he tilted his head back to bare his throat in a submission pose that hit Kiryu in a place he didn’t even know he had.

Kiryu followed him to the floor like he was caught on a string, his hands going around his hips, his mouth going to that exposed neck. He couldn’t help it, Majima was begging to be marked, to be cherished, to just be someone’s. Kiryu couldn’t fight the urge to take him if he wanted. 

Majima squirmed under him and successfully pulled his long legs around Kiryu, even with his pants still in the way. That reminded Kiryu, feeling the smooth leather pressed against his belly. Kiryu broke away and leaned back to pull off Majima’s shoes. 

“Ha… hey!” Majima snapped as Kiryu moved to toss his shoe somewhere, “Careful with those.”

Kiryu blinked hard. “You’re worried about your shoes? ” 

Majima pouted, hearing the withering judgment in Kiryu’s voice. “Those shoes cost more than your salary, musclehead,” he replied testily, “you’re gonna treat ‘em nice.” 

Kiryu rolled his eyes, but obediently set Majima’s shoes down as far away from the chaos of the bed as he could reach. “Happy?” he retorted as Majima beat him to yanking his pants off. 

Majima flopped back, spreading his legs suggestively. “Mmmm, not yet.” He winked. 

Kiryu’s face heated a little, but he missed the warmth of having Majima all around him and slid happily into his place between Majima’s legs. Majima caught his face and held him close for a second, just looking at him. 

“Beautiful Kiryu-chan,” he sighed, stroking his cheek, “Always thought ya were beautiful.”

Kiryu blushed a little and moved to kiss his thumb. “You’re beautiful, Majima,” he mumbled. 

Majima blinked. “What was that?” he whispered. 

Kiryu levered himself more fully on top of Majima, pressing hard on his hips. “Majima,” he repeated, enunciating carefully. 

Majima trembled under him and his hips started to arch up, begging for attention. “Ya know I always hated it when ya called me-”

Kiryu cut him off with a deep kiss and Majima pulled all his limbs around him, hugging him tight. Kiryu moved his hands to the floor to prop himself up and let Majima rock against him as much as he wanted. And he kissed him and kept kissing him and then slowly brought a hand between them over Majima’s cock. 

Majima snapped back with a gasp, looking down to where Kiryu was touching him. Kiryu curiously curled his fingers around Majima’s shaft, acquainting himself with the shape for the first time, and Majima made a soft sound in his nose. 

Kiryu stroked him once experimentally and Majima hissed. Really there shouldn’t be too much to learn, he knew what felt nice to himself at least. Mostly he was just curious about the little sounds and expressions he could draw out of Majima like this. Feeling confident, he licked his hand as Majima had and tightened his grip to start stroking him in earnest. 

Majima moaned beautifully and arched up into him. “Ha… that’s real nice, Kiryu-chan.” He smiled at him breathlessly, his one eye just a slit now, echoing his smile. Kiryu licked his lips. Now he could understand why Majima looked hypnotized watching him; this was hungry work. He squeezed at Majima’s head, testing his sensitivity, and dragged his thumb over the slit at the top. Majima practically convulsed, his legs tensing around Kiryu. Kiryu made a mental note to do that a lot more times.

“Y-You’ll probably want more lube if you’re gonna do any more of that,” Majima panted his instructions. Kiryu licked his palm messily, then focused on squeezing his foreskin over the tip over and over again, rubbing his thumb over him whenever there was space. 

“Like this?” he asked, redundantly, as Majima whimpered. He made an incoherent noise in reply, his body writhing and unable to settle; Kiryu took that for a yes. 

He kept tugging at him, but he wanted more, he wanted Majima to flood the way he had. Steeling himself, he bent low and murmured in Majima’s ear, “Tell me what you like.”

“Ha…” Majima gasped and tried to look over at Kiryu, “Y-You sure?” 

Kiryu moved enough that he could see him and nodded. 

Majima bit his lip, but then wrapped his hands around Kiryu’s neck, keeping him where they had eye contact. “I like it when ya touch me,” he said, “When you put your hands on me, I like feeling ya.” Though no command was issued, Kiryu moved his other hand up Majima’s stomach, touching as much of him as he could while keeping his other hand busy. 

Majima groaned. “Mmm, tighten up, and- ah, yeah, that’s it…” Kiryu watched him sigh and arch into it as he adjusted his grip, trying to follow the subtle cues of Majima’s hips. 

Majima opened his eye again to watch him, even though it was clearly a battle against sensation. Kiryu couldn’t complain though, Majima looking at him made him all the more determined to make him feel so good he couldn’t keep it open. 

“Y’know you’re just my type, Kiryu-chan,” Majima purred, smirking. 

Kiryu raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” He bent his head and tried sucking at Majima’s nipple. Majima wriggled, whimpering a little. Kiryu squinted up at him, continuing to work his tongue over his nipple as he asked, “What about me is your type?” 

Majima squeezed his thighs hard around Kiryu’s middle, almost pulling himself off the bed just by pulling against Kiryu’s core. “You’re strong ,” he moaned appreciatively, “I go fucking hard for strong guys.” He leered up at Kiryu. 

Strong, huh? That gave Kiryu an idea. Reluctantly, Kiryu let go of him and Majima made a regretful noise, high and thin. But the next second Kiryu had his arms around him and was lifting him into the air. Kiryu’s thighs strained as he straightened into a kneeling position, but it was worth it to see Majima’s mouth drop open in surprised delight. “Shit!” he gasped, pressed tight against Kiryu’s chest, “Where am I going Kiryu-chan?” 

Kiryu let himself smirk. “You said you liked strong,” he explained, forcing himself to his feet, Majima still in his arms, “Thought you might like a demonstration.” He groaned with effort, but made it to a standing position with an excitedly squirming Majima, his cock still hard and throbbing faintly against Kiryu’s chest. But he wasn’t done yet. Majima gasping and babbling “Kiryu-chan” the whole time, Kiryu took two powerful steps and backed Majima against the wall with a satisfying thump. 

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Majima panted, eye rolling, “fuck, fuck… No one’s ever fucked me in this position before.”

Kiryu couldn’t fight the leer spreading over his face. “Well, you were clearly fucking inferior partners.” 

Majima shivered and he stared down at him, wide-eyed. “Oh, I like this Kiryu-chan.” He licked his lips messily. “C’mon, baby, gimme some more.” 

Kiryu grinned, rather pleased with himself now. He shifted his brace around Majima’s lower back, pinning the rest of Majima’s weight on his shoulders, to free one arm and start jacking him off again. He felt slicker than before and Kiryu felt the compliment. 

“Ah, yes, yes!” Majima was babbling now. “Fuck, won’t be able to get this out of my head the next time ya throw me against a wall,” he panted, digging his fingers into Kiryu’s shoulders. 

Kiryu dropped his head and growled against his throat, “Me neither.” And he nipped that soft skin for good measure. Majima yelped and tried to buck, but couldn’t. 

“Shit… fuck…” Majima’s mouth hung open between words, a little drool trickling out. “This is so good, baby, you’re so good, ffffuck!” Kiryu planted his mouth in that tender spot between collarbone and shoulder and sucked hard. Majima whined beautifully, a writhing mess now. Kiryu was distantly frightened by how much this was turning him on, but turning Majima into a sobbing wreck was taking up all of his focus at the moment. 

“C-Can ya do one last thing for me?” Majima managed to get out after several gibbering attempts. 

“Anything,” Kiryu sighed, hand tight and slick on his cock. 

“Spread me,” Majima begged, “I- I like t’feel stretched, u-used…” He looked at Kiryu helplessly.

Kiryu chewed his lip, thinking about the logistics. “I might have to stop-”

“S’fine,” Majima waved him off immediately, “I can get myself off. I just want to feel you. I- Fucking hell, baby, I can’t think. Just-” Majima interrupted himself to grab the hand that was on his cock and guide it lower between his legs. “Just please ,” he rasped.

Kiryu flushed hard, but couldn’t deny a request so desperately given. He couldn’t process that he was about to finger Majima on their… first date? No, that was too much to think about right now. And really it was hard to think about anything with Majima hot and writhing and whining at him, for him. Swallowing his nerves down, Kiryu tentatively brushed Majima’s anus again and Majima shivered so hard his head slammed back against the wall.

Kiryu bit his lip and looked up at him, worried. But Majima was just laughing. “Ohhh fuck,” he grinned, “I’ll probably feel that tomorrow. Fuck, it’s been-” He caught Kiryu’s eye and paused just for a moment before pressing on, “-been too long. I’m hard up for it and jumpy as hell. J-Just keep going though, baby. I’m alright.” He smiled reassuringly and Kiryu had seen Majima take a lot worse and come out standing, so he could probably trust this. 

Kiryu tried again, this time not flinching back when Majima moaned and tensed around him. Instead he kept rubbing, pressing the furled bud of flesh, which was strangely giving, almost sucking him in. 

“Ugh… yeah, yeah, like that,” Majima babbled, staring up at nothing, “go ahead and push.” 

Kiryu did as he was told and Majima’s whole body squeezed him tighter. At that point he felt Majima’s hand fumble between them, reaching for his cock. Kiryu couldn’t resist and looked down to see Majima stroking himself, long thoughtful pulls at first, with a little release just at the end. He swallowed, feeling a little dizzy with how fast blood was shooting back to his own cock. 

“Yeah?” Majima called him back with a raised eyebrow, “Looking a little distracted there, Kiryu-chan.” 

Kiryu slowly shook himself out of it, but decided that if Majima had enough brainspace to tease him then he clearly wasn’t fucking him right. Kiryu started moving his finger, rubbing it around, feeling as much of Majima’s insides as he could. Majima instantly stopped smiling, gasping for breath, his hand faltering in its pace and starting something much faster and sloppier. Kiryu listened with relish at the wet smack of it. 

“Oh! Oh! That’s… more, gimme more,” Majima babbled, pressing his back hard against the wall so he could rock his hips against Kiryu, begging with voice and body. Kiryu followed his lead, thrusting into Majima’s rhythm, dragging his finger in and out, as Majima’s whimpering devolved from words to sounds. His eye fell closed, his hand working overtime against the pleasure. 

“Fuck, Kiryu,” he whined, a look of near pain coming over his face at the tension, “This is- this is- I can’t-”

Kiryu gripped him tighter and leaned  close to whisper “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” 

Majima made a sound like a sob and came violently, thick ropes of cum shooting onto both their stomachs as he shuddered, thighs contracting like heartbeats around Kiryu. Kiryu gulped and slowly stopped thrusting into him, unsure what the proper etiquette was. When Majima was just shivering and panting, he withdrew completely, causing a little yelp, then helped Majima down off the wall. 

Majima could hardly stand after all that, so he kept his arms around him and laid him all the way back down on his own futon, before starting to move off to grab a towel.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Majima asked roughly, snatching Kiryu’s arm back. 

Kiryu’s eyes widened, surprised at Majima’s almost insult at him backing away. “I was just going to get a towel-”

“Mmpf.” Majima pouted and just pulled at Kiryu, insisting he come back to bed. “S’fine, washes off skin like nothing. Fabric on the other hand s’nother story. What’re ya still doing over there?” He leaned off the bed enough to glare at Kiryu. “Come t’bed.” 

Kiryu flushed. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to take being ordered into his own bed, but weirdly it made him feel pleased to have Majima say it. To have him tugging at him and crawling into his arms and settling on the bed like it was… their bed. Like Majima had some claim on him and he Majima. It was a nice thought. 

“Gotta teach ya proper post-coital manners, I see,” Majima muttered, curled up on his chest. 

“So, we are doing this again?” Kiryu asked hopefully. 

Majima froze.

Chapter Text

Kiryu didn’t know how, but he felt like he had shattered something. That in the moment that he had asked what he had nearly taken for a given, he’d just broken the spell on a very dear dream. 

Majima sat up, without saying a word, the post-coital softness and warmth all gone from him now. He shot Kiryu a look, then frantically began searching for his eyepatch, flinging their clothes off the floor as he went. 

Kiryu sat up uneasily, unsure which landmine he’d stepped on. “Majima?” he tried, but Majima didn’t look up and didn’t stop moving things around, desperately searching. 

Kiryu swallowed, throat going dry. “Look, we- we don’t have to. If this was just a, a “thing” for you-”

Majima stopped short, his face absolutely ashen, and Kiryu realized that it was pain. He was hurt by the idea that Kiryu didn’t think he cared. But then why…? 

Kiryu moved forward, trying to get in his face, trying to force Majima to confront him. “Then what is this about? Explain it to me, I don’t understand.” 

“This was a mistake,” Majima muttered when Kiryu finally trapped him with no easy way around without touching him. Kiryu felt lacerated by the words, but he wouldn’t budge. Majima still wouldn’t look at him. “This was a mistake and I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have done this.” 

Kiryu swallowed down the hurt, trying to focus. Something about what he was saying didn’t quite make sense. “I mean… I was doing a lot of this too,” Kiryu said slowly, squinting at him, “You didn’t… do this alone.”

Majima just shook his head. “No, I shouldn’t have done this,” he repeated, looking away, “I need to go; where’s my fucking eyepatch?” He was beginning to fray in desperation. 

Kiryu took a cursory glance around and realized he’d been sitting on it just as Majima realized. He knew it would be cruel to refuse Majima of it and so bit down the urge to grab it first, but he had to think of some way to keep him here long enough to explain before he ran away into the night. It would be one thing if Majima genuinely regretted doing this but… and Kiryu was no expert, but what he was saying didn’t sound like regret. It sounded like fear. 

Majima sighed, but didn’t sound all that relieved when he had the eyepatch back on. He immediately started grabbing at his clothes and started jerking them on, his nerves betraying a clumsiness that normally wouldn’t have existed. 

“Okay, just- if you can’t explain, then at least tell me, do you really want to go?” Kiryu was just saying the first thing that came into his head. He couldn’t waste time strategizing, Majima would take off before he even had an idea. 

Majima didn’t respond, shucking on his pants, but even with the left side of his face to him, Kiryu could see he looked distressed. Kiryu knew Majima was a good liar, when he was in a mood to. For whatever reason, he couldn’t or wouldn’t lie now. But neither would he admit to anything. 

Kiryu tried to build on that. “Okay, then, I can’t let you go.” 

Majima snorted softly. “Think ya can fucking stop me?” he growled, shrugging his jacket back on. 

Kiryu saw him getting ready to stand and stood too. “Yes. If it comes to that.” 

Majima glared at him. “It was a nice night; let’s leave it that way. Don’t make this harder.”

It wasn’t like Majima to threaten. Goad, flirt, challenge, never threaten. Kiryu ground in his heel, even as he watched Majima put on those steel-toe wingtips. “It was a nice night, until you decided to flip out. I’m not letting you go until you explain.” 

Majima laughed once, mirthless. “What, thought we were gonna go steady? Hold hands in the park, buy dumb shit for each other, get takoyaki and talk about nothing? Fucking pathetic.”

It was designed to hurt. It was designed to make him mad. Kiryu clung to that understanding, let it center him through the maelstrom of pain. “You’re trying to make me hit you so we don’t have to talk,” he said deliberately, watching Majima’s nervous motions; he was clearly looking for an exit. “I don’t know what this is about, but I do know you don’t want to hurt me.” 

“You don’t know shit!” Majima hissed and Kiryu saw a hint of that wild, unknowing fear that he saw before. And just as before, something about it dropped the bottom from his stomach. But he wouldn’t back down this time. 

“Then tell me!” Kiryu snarled back, “I want to know-”

“You don’t! You really don’t,” Majima was crouching now, preparing to charge at him, “and if ya have any fucking sense in ya, you’d let me leave!”  

With that, Majima ran at him full tilt and Kiryu tried to catch him in his arms, but Majima was too fast today. He swung up and over Kiryu’s shoulders, his attack just a feint to get to the door, but Kiryu knew that. Majima was too desperate to lie well right now and Kiryu pulled hard on his leg before he could get away, sending them both crashing to the floor. Majima yelped, but Kiryu didn’t release, holding him down with all his strength, trying to claw more fully on top of him. 

Majima kicked out, hard enough it winded Kiryu momentarily, stunned by the force of it, but Majima’s scream of freedom was enough to snap Kiryu into action, punching at any part of Majima in reach and not caring what he damaged. He didn’t get very far, only just recovering his breath, when the white-hot pain of a blade sliced his knuckles. Kiryu grunted, but didn’t have time to flinch; he forced himself through the pain and just kept pummeling into Majima, feeling his fists collide with hard, sharp leg bones as he tried to work his way up. Majima’s knife kept coming at him, slices on his arms, his ribs, one really good dig near his collarbone where Kiryu tried to sit up to get to his abdomen and Majima got one clean shot that was now painting them both in blood. 

The blood seemed to work in Kiryu’s favor as when Majima tried to turn out of Kiryu’s barrage, he slipped on the blood beneath him, accidentally turning too far and Kiryu lept on top of him, delivering a two-handed hit to his back so heavy he thought he heard a rib crack. Majima crumpled under him and stayed still. Trusting nothing, Kiryu wrested the knife out of his limp hand and threw it across the room, putting a lovely red stain on the opposite corner. Only then did he press a hand to his bleeding shoulder, glad that the gout was finally slowing. 

After a moment of complete silence, Kiryu decided it was safe enough to speak. “Can you breathe?”

Majima groaned weakly. 

“Hmmm,” Kiryu sighed and reluctantly took the hand off his shoulder to move his position, settling his weight on Majima’s ass so he wasn’t blocking his diaphragm, but by no means allowing him an easy escape. 

Majima took a grateful breath.

Kiryu waited, but Majima said nothing. He was about to prompt him when Majima finally said, “Still think I don’t want to hurt ya?” 

Kiryu felt the stickiness of his red fingers. “Yes,” he replied stubbornly. 

“Then you’re a goddamn idiot and I never should have come here,” Majima muttered. 

“You already knew I was an idiot,” Kiryu retorted, losing patience, “Stop acting like it’s a surprise.” 

Majima actually laughed softly. Kiryu wasn’t expecting that. Despite everything, hearing Majima laugh made him smile a little too. He swallowed, knowing trying again might just mean that they go back to killing each other, but he had to try. “I don’t think you regret what we did,” his voice trembled a little, “I think you’re scared. And… I can’t tell why.” 

Majima’s answering silence was thick. Kiryu felt like he could hardly breathe through it. 

“Please let me go,” Majima whispered and Kiryu was flooded in panic because he sounded like he was crying. 

Kiryu swallowed hard. He hadn’t meant to… it just seemed like if they talked about it, he’d be able to help. It was obvious even to him that Majima was suffering and he just wanted to… he didn’t want to make it worse. 

“I-I’m sorry,” Kiryu apologized, starting to move off him, when his hand touched Majima’s back. In their struggling, his coat had flipped up, exposing a great deal of the Hannya. But what caught Kiryu’s attention wasn’t how it looked. He moved his hand further up under the coat, maybe he had just caught a bad spot. Majima whimpered, “Stop.” But it was too late. 

Scars were a necessary hazard in their line of work, there wasn’t a yakuza Kiryu had ever heard of who didn’t have scars. But Majima’s back‒ Those weren’t work scars. Even if you’d been in the life 60 years and had a knife fight every day, the scars wouldn’t come out so regular, so repeated, patterned in the long, straight stripes of someone taking their time, someone making sure it lasted. Kiryu felt his heart turn cold. How had he been so close to Majima for so long and had never noticed? 

“Who?” Kiryu asked without thinking, “Who- What-?”

“S’none of your business,” Majima muttered,  trying to squirm away. 

“How…” Kiryu stopped and tried to get a hold of the horror and panic inside him. Majima would only still be afraid if the people who did this were still alive and able to find him. So whoever did this was close, probably someone who could hurt Kiryu too. 

“Was it Shimano?” He blurted out. Majima snarled and finally wriggled free, doubling back to tackle Kiryu to the ground.

“Shut up!” His voice was vicious, his hand was squeezing around his throat, but his eye was pained. Oh God, had he lost the eye when… 

Was it?” Kiryu tried to scream, in spite of Majima pressing on his windpipe. 

Majima tried to snarl, but nothing came out. He closed his eye and took a deep, steadying breath. “That’s… not it.” 

Kiryu scoffed, but it got choked at Majima’s hand. Majima reluctantly released, and sat back, suddenly very tired. 

“How would it even work?” he mused as Kiryu pushed himself up to sit, “You’re the Dragon of Dojima, I’m the Mad Dog of Shimano.” He shook his head slowly. “We just can’t.” 

Kiryu didn’t see what this had to do with Majima’s past and apparently on-going abuse or the panic attack he just had, but he was talking now so that was progress. “Why not? We’re just dating.”

Majima snorted and sneered, “Don’t be stupid. Ya think they’d just let ya get attached to me? Ya think they wouldn’t question everything ya ever did in case I had told ya to? They’d never trust ya again. You’d lose everything over me.” Majima looked hard at the floor, already at work blaming himself. 

Kiryu wanted to deny it, but his words called to mind Nishiki, Kashiwagi, Dojima. None of them would take kindly to him sauntering through the streets with Majima on his arm. And he hadn’t forgotten that Majima had conveniently left out what would happen to him and Kiryu could guess it would be even worse. Majima wouldn’t have panicked over a little social and professional tension. 

“So, we’ll date in secret,” Kiryu tried. 

Majima rolled his eye over to him with an unconvinced look. 

“I’m serious,” Kiryu frowned, “I think I’ve seen it done before. We could go on like we always have in public and find places to-”

“And we’ll spend the rest of our lives hiding from certain death to bone every once in awhile? Sounds real enchanting.”

“Why did you come here if this was so clearly a waste of your time?” Kiryu snapped at Majima’s dismissal, “I didn’t make you or anything.”

Majima flinched and swallowed. “That’s fair, Kiryu-chan.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess I need a lesson in post-coital manners too.” 

Kiryu sighed and tried to pick up the conversational reins. “I don’t know how you feel, Majima.” Majima brought his head up sharply. “Maybe you do regret it,” Kiryu shrugged, keeping his eyes away from him, “If you do, you can leave right now, but I-”

“I love you.” 

Kiryu’s breath stopped. Majima had a hand slapped over his mouth, like he could keep back the words he’d already spoken. His eye was wet. 


“I love you and I’ll kill you,” Majima choked, starting to sob. 

Kiryu scrambled over to him. He didn’t know what was happening, but he was not going to let Majima sit there and cry alone. He pulled his arms around Majima, sensible of the fact Majima was too far gone to move himself, so he crowded Majima into his lap as best he could, just sheltering him through the wracking sobs. 

“I’ll kill you” wasn’t exactly the most comforting thing in the world to hear, but the sentiment felt far distant from the crying man in his arms. He’d fought Majima many times and, unless Majima was a much worse fighter than he thought, Majima had never tried to kill him before. Defeat him, hurt him, but even at their most vicious with each other, Kiryu had never feared for his life. So he couldn’t quite put together what Majima meant. But even inside himself, those concerns felt so secondary to what was torturing Majima. He felt a weird sort of kindred hurt for him, it hurt looking at him like this and he just wanted to make the hurt go away, any way he could. 

Kiryu pressed him as close as he could, his chest hot and sticky with blood and tears. He felt bad that he was getting blood on everything but there was nothing he could do for that at the moment. He put a hand over Majima’s head, petting his hair gently as the sobs slowly became weaker. 

Majima eventually sat back and rubbed under his eyepatch, a messy patch of red left on the right side of his face. 

Kiryu blinked. “Is it- do you still…?” 

“No, but it feels like it. Sympathetic nerves or some shit,” he mumbled, readjusting the eyepatch until it felt settled again. “Fuck, I’m a terrible lay,” he muttered and neither of them laughed, “You don’t deserve all this…” He waved vaguely and Kiryu captured his hand quickly, arresting his attention. 

“I love you,” Kiryu said steadily, “I wouldn’t have- I wouldn’t have brought you here if I wasn’t prepared.” 

Majima shook his head and tried to take his hand back, his eye on the floor. “No one’s prepared for this.” 

“I don’t care,” Kiryu insisted, holding his hand tighter, “I know I might be stupid sometimes, but when I make a decision, I stand by it. I’m not scared.”

Majima groaned, but he was too exhausted to lash out at him now. “You damn fool,” he sighed, “Why won’t ya just let me go? I’m trying to save your life.”

Kiryu shook his head once. “Not until you explain.” 

“Because everyone I love winds up dead,” Majima met his eyes hard, “or gone.” 

Kiryu didn’t have a reaction for that and frowned. Everyone died, eventually, but Majima clearly didn’t mean like that.

“There, I’ve explained, now I get to go.” Majima tried to stand. 

“That’s not an explanation and you know it.” Kiryu yanked him back down. Majima collapsed back, falling onto his ass. 

“Oof!” He winced. “Not nice to do to someone you’ve just fucked, Kiryu-chan,” he pouted weakly. 

“Don’t care, you tell me why you’re so sure I’m going to die.” He glared at him. 

“What does it matter? You’ll still be dead.” Majima was looking miserable with guilt again. 

“Snap out of it!” Kiryu hissed, “I don’t know anything about what happened to you before, but I’m not those people. I’m here and I’m a fighter and I’m strong. So whatever this is, I’ll fight it with you. Just let me.”

Majima swallowed, a look of longing coming over him. “Sweet Kiryu-chan, my sweet Kiryu-chan… I did think, for just a second, that, maybe…”  He stopped, dropping his head, and drew a deep breath. “Did ya ever hear about the year I was missing?” 

Kiryu combed through his memories. “Maybe,” he squinted, “I did hear about some guy not long after I joined. People would ask about him and they’d say he disappeared, I never got a name though.” 

Majima nodded. “I wasn’t the only one this happened to, so not surprising. But I’m one of those guys that just disappeared. This would have been about a year before we met, a year before my rampage on the Tojo Clan.” He glanced at Kiryu and Kiryu nodded quickly, well-remembering that legendary night. It had been the making of both of them. 

Majima sat up a little and swallowed. “Before then… It doesn’t matter why, but I was sent to a black hole, by Shimano.” 

Kiryu’s anger started to swell, but Majima held up his free hand. “Now, before you start, I deserved it.” 

Kiryu’s eyes shot wide open. “Deserved-?! No one deserves torture!” 

“Don’t argue with me or I’m not telling the rest of the story,” Majima snapped. 

Kiryu wanted to fight him, but apparently he was only going to talk Majima into doing so much good for himself at once. Kiryu bit his tongue and kept his objections to himself, but he didn’t pretend to like it. 

“For reasons that don’t matter to this conversation, I was sent there,” Majima resumed, “They took my eye. They ripped me open and left me hanging on a wall, for a year. I won’t… I won’t defend what they did.” Majima swallowed hard. “I wouldn’t see anyone else in the shape I was in. But after a year, the boss let me out. Gave me clothes, a position, told me if I did good, he’d let me back into the clan.” 

Kiryu frowned at him. “I know, it didn’t make sense to me either,” Majima shook his head, “I should have been dead… Or at least, I should have known why I was being let out, but I didn’t. Turned out, I only thought the torture was over.” 

Majima scratched his chin, looking back into the past as he continued. “So, I did what I was told. I ran this club down in Sotenbori, making money for the boss, hoping for my chance to get back into Tojo. And then the chance came. I was told to do this hit. Do this one hit, I get back in.” His eye flicked back to Kiryu. “Ya wanna take a guess who I was told to hit?” 

Kiryu didn’t have that many applicable names, but if he had the timeline right, then this would have to be… “It wasn’t… but you were protecting her?” 

Majima nodded hard. “Damn right I was protecting her. I was first told it’d be someone else, but I worked it out fast enough. They wanted me to kill this blind girl and I wasn’t doing it. And it turned out everyone in the whole wide world wanted a piece of this poor girl. Seemed to me that was pretty unfair, so I protected her.” 

“Don’t get the wrong idea, don’t want ya to think she didn’t have a friend in the world until me,” Majima paused, “Lotsa people showed up trying to help, trying to help her, trying to help me. They’re all dead.”

Kiryu blinked. “There was a lot happening then.” This he could say from experience. “Everyone was scrambling over the empty lot, of course people got caught in the crossfire.” He could think of a few losses himself.

Majima shook his head, face hard. “No. This wasn’t like that. One of them bit it on a car bomb that was supposed to take us to safety. Another, two actually, got themselves shot to death saving me and me alone from those bullets. I watched my jailer for those cruel months shoot our Chairman because he held out a hand to me.” Kiryu inhaled softly. “No, Kiryu-chan, they’re all dead because of me.”

Kiryu felt his guts turning cold, but before he could process, Majima pressed on, “And ya know what else?” 

Kiryu shook his head, fearing the cruel glint in Majima’s eye. 

“I. Was. Bait,” Majima spat with a mean smile, “Shimano told me so himself. See, he never wanted the girl killed. Needed her to sign over that empty fucking lot. And he knew if I was sent in to kill her, I wouldn’t. And instead I’d do everything in my power to protect her. And while I was busy doing my damnedest to do the right thing, all these good people came out of the woodwork to help.” Majima shrugged helplessly, the mania building in his voice. “I was a fucking beacon to ‘em, leading them like lambs to the slaughter. Played right into his fucking hands. Ain’t that funny, Kiryu-chan?” His eye snapped to Kiryu.

Kiryu felt sick. 

“Ain’t that the funniest thing ya ever fucking heard?” Majima snarled. “People try to help me and they get killed, I get good people killed. And Kiryu-chan, you’re too good for this whole fucking world.”

The full brunt of everything Majima had borne until now slammed into Kiryu like a coal train. He had very much hoped that Majima had invented some narrative where he could never be happy, but it looked like he actually had some reason to believe it. Kiryu tried to shake off the shock and find an out. “It wasn’t your fault-”

“Bullshit!” Majima roared, standing in a swift motion. In his focus on Majima’s story, he’d let his grip grow lax and now Majima was free of him. “Not one of those bastards would have died if not for- did you ever hear what happened to Awano?”

Kiryu’s eyes widened and Majima’s gaze flickered. “Ya knew him, didn’t ya? Well, he was one of those fucks that died defending me.” 

Kiryu’s mouth dropped open, in spite of himself. 

“Dojima didn’t tell ya that, did he?” Majima swallowed hard. “We weren’t even on the same side. I met him, fought him, and he decided I was worth dying for.” A tear trickled down Majima’s red cheek. “I don’t want- no one else- dyin’ for me.” His voice was breaking but he had to say it. “And if you died, if you died, Kiryu-chan, I…” Majima closed his eye tight, trying to push away the terrible thought by sheer force of will. 

Kiryu stood too and put out both hands, just gentle on his shoulders, letting Majima know he was still there, letting him lean against him again. In a moment, Majima recovered well enough to keep breathing. 

“That’s why I, I’ve got to-” Majima whimpered, turning his head up to plead with Kiryu once again. 

Kiryu swallowed and took a deep breath. He had to be careful how he said this. Very lightly, he took Majima’s chin, wanting the security of soft touch. “Knowing all this, then,” Kiryu asked, “why did you come?” It wasn’t an accusation. It was just a question. And it could be Majima didn’t have an answer, and if so, Kiryu needed to know that too. 

Majima’s red eye clouded once more. “Because I,” he hesitated, “I thought, for a moment- I thought maybe you wouldn’t die.” Majima bit his lip like he regretted saying that out loud. 

Kiryu exhaled slowly, a soft smile curving his lips. “Then you do think it’s possible.” 

Majima tried to shake his head, but Kiryu held onto his chin. “No, I’m a fool, Kiryu-chan.” 

“I’m strong,” Kiryu reminded him at a murmur, stepping a little closer, “and I love you and I want to try.” 


“Shimano-san will threaten to kill me so he can use you, right?” Kiryu summarized, “He’ll kill me if I get in his way?” 

Majima, distraught, jerked out of Kiryu’s grasp to shake his head. “He’ll kill ya for less than that. If he thinks I like ya, if he thinks there’s even a chance I’d choose ya over him–”

“Do it,” Kiryu hissed, a gleam coming into his eye. 

Majima wrenched back, eye bulging. “What?!” 

“Do it,” Kiryu insisted, stepping closer again, “Choose me, I can protect you.” 

Majima’s mouth dropped. “Have you not been fucking listening? Everyone who tried that got killed!” 

“I won’t-” Majima’s fist came fast and hard for him, nailing him in the diaphragm before he could finish. Kiryu choked as his air left him, doubling over for a moment so he had to look up at Majima’s furious expression. 

Don’t .” He glared down at Kiryu, fist still tight, “Don’t ever fucking promise me that.”

Kiryu wiped his mouth and stood upright, even as his diaphragm protested. “I at least know to watch out for him,” Kiryu clarified, “and even if you leave here tonight and refuse to have anything else to do with me, I’ll never stop trying to protect you.”

Majima stepped back, color draining. “Son of a bitch , Kiryu, you can’t fucking do this to me!” He ran a hand through his hair. “Didn’t I just get done telling you I’ve literally watched people-” 

“Let him try,” Kiryu growled, folding his arms.

Majima just stared at him, arms hanging limply at his sides. “You’re crazy,” he whispered, starting to smile in spite of himself, “You’re fucking crazy.” 

Kiryu smirked slowly. “Crazier than you’ll ever be.”

Majima offered a breathless laugh. “I still don’t think ya fully grasp what it is you’re daring here, Kiryu-chan. Shimano won’t go down easy; he’s a captain with men at command and he’s paranoid. Even if he doesn’t catch on to us–” Kiryu felt a little warmth suffuse him when Majima said it. “–you’re a rising star, he’ll come for ya.” 

Kiryu prepared to reiterate his position that Shimano could fucking try when Majima cut him off with a raised hand. “Before ya spout anymore heroic bullshit, understand that if it comes down to it, I will kill you myself.” Majima met his eyes with a hard, cold look. “No one else is going to fucking die for me, especially not a goody-goody meathead like you, too sweet for his own good. Got it?” He punctuated with a jab in the chest. 

Kiryu nodded, face set. “Yeah, I figured.” 

Majima considered that and stepped back to run an appraising eye over him, baptized in blood and cum and tears. But standing straight and daring the gods themselves to come for him. How could Majima ever resist?

Kiryu cocked his head. “You’ve made up your mind about something.” 

Majima’s eye widened. “Have I now?” 

Kiryu’s smile grew wide. “Ohhh yes. I know my Majima like the back of my hand. I can tell what you’re going to do before you even think to do it.” 

Majima stepped in very close. “You complete bastard,” Majima murmured, before wrapping his arms around Kiryu and crushing their mouths together. 

After a long, knee-trembling moment, Kiryu murmured back, “That I am.” 

Majima rolled his eye. “C’mon, let’s get cleaned up.”