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Majima doesn’t really recall how the game cartridge ends up in his possession in the first place. When he was walking down Pink Street, maybe, on a particularly good day and he’d offered some barker who couldn’t stop sniffling through his bikini bar sales pitch a pack of crumpled pocket tissues, and in return, the man had pressed it into his hands as some kind of odd thanks. Maybe he’d found it in the common area of Majima family office, left by one of his subordinates on the table next to an overflowing ashtray. Majima is honestly starting to think it might have just magically appeared in one of the many secret places he has hidden around Kamuro to shack up in for a few nights because there’s no way he’d go out of his way to buy it. He doesn’t even have a computer.
He hadn’t really thought much about it as he pocketed it, figuring he might as well see what it was since it belonged to him now. The name of it was odd-- Amigo Picante, which Majima had translated online and found out meant spicy friend and that was… an interesting choice of title, to put things gently-- and the cover image hadn’t really done much to help Majima understand what the game was about. The gaudy blue background featured a few nondescript and vaguely twink looking anime-style characters lounging casually on desk chairs. A school game, then?
The blurb doesn’t really help much either: 18-year-old Abe Hideo is a transfer student at St. Dandy’s Academy for boys, where he meets a whirlwind of interesting students. Join him through his ups, his downs, his friendships, and maybe even a little more.
What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Majima had looked it over in distaste before glancing at the clock on the wall-- almost eight. It’s not like he had anything better to do, so he figured he might as well kill time by playing it.
He called up Nishida, who as always, answered the phone with a shaky Yes, Boss?
“Nishida,” he said, fingering over a small scar on his abdomen. It’s from the time he’d taken a knife for Kiryu. Majima reflected on it fondly for a moment before barking, “Can ya’ get me a laptop with a CD port?”
“Yes, when?”
“Now, obviously. I’m at my place in the alley off Senryo. If anyone sees ya’ come in here I’ll gut ya’.”
Nishida is the only other person besides Majima who knows about this place, and it’s only because Majima has a tendency to get himself half-killed or forget to eat, and if he goes off the grid for more than a few days without telling Nishida, he’d want his body to be discovered before it was maggot-infested and gross. He plans on an open casket, after all.
“Nobody’s ever seen me before.”
And yeah, that’s fair enough.
Nishida was there in less than ten minutes, and he was looking bashful as he handed over a beat up, sticker-covered laptop. “It’s Minami’s,” he’d explained. “Best I could do with the time I was given. He doesn’t care what you do, he just says not to delete anything without consulting him first.”
“What,” Majima’d asked, inspecting the equipment. “He doesn’t want me to get rid’a his porn flicks? Bet he’s into some real freaky shit. Tentacles, maybe.”
“Probably,” Nishida had deadpanned. Majima didn’t know why he even tried.
Majima frowned. “It was a joke.”
Now, Majima sits with the laptop balanced on his chest as he clicks through dialogue. The game, so far, has turned out to be some kind of visual novel following a bland male protagonist with a mop of unruly purple hair and a cool demeanour that’s contrasted with his shyness. He’s always getting flustered. Reminds Majima of somebody he knows. The voice of the character had seemed somewhat familiar when Majima heard it, too, but the package didn’t say anything about who played who and Majima had just chalked it up to being an actor who’s in a lot of things.
While somewhat boring, the game has been eating up more time than Majima might like to admit, considering the fact that he’s realized, between the being shoved up against a wall by the orange-haired character or feeling ‘shocks of electricity run through his hands’ at the touch of the blond one, that this is some kind of boy’s love game targeted at teenage girls. Not that he really minds-- honestly, Majima has done worse things than play a yaoi visual novel alone in one of his hideouts.
His character, Abe, is alone in the classroom with his childhood friend, Michiue. There’s an air of… something hovering over them. Something sort of awkward, but also something a little suggestive. Honestly, Majima is glad he chose this route. He’s a bit of a sucker for childhood friends to lovers.
It’s been a while since we’ve had some time alone together, Abe-kun. Just the two of us.
Majima objectively likes Michiue the best, though they’re all sort of dull and two dimensional. He’s sort of suave while also maintaining an air of goofiness when deemed appropriate, and he’s also just the obvious choice for Abe.
Yeah, Abe says. You’re right. It’s nice to finally be alone.
There’s something about the voice actor that’s bugging Majima. It’s so familiar, but he just can’t seem to put his finger on it. It’s like when you can picture a movie clearly in your head but can’t recall the title, or sing a song but forget the singer.
The voice is warm and mellow, and honestly, a little off for a guy in his last year of high school, but hey, it sounds good, so Majima’s not really complaining. Not that this is particularly arousing-- or even would be if it were targeted at him (which it isn’t, because he’s a yakuza patriarch in his forties and not a fifteen-year-old girl who finds boys kissing just so cute). He doesn’t like anyone under thirty-five, and anyway, he’s never really been into twinks.
You know, it almost feels like fate that we ended up together at St. Dandy’s. I would have been so lonely without you. A pause. Hey, Abe. How do you feel about me?
The screen cuts to Abe, who’s standing in a slightly different pose now. He’s got his arm over his head like he’s thinking, and the action makes his shirt ride up a little. God. What the fuck is Majima doing?
I’ve always seen you as a kind, strong guy.
Something like deja vu hits Majima, and You’ve always been the one guy I could never read rattles around his empty brain for a moment like a lone mint in a metal tin. Majima shakes his head, and the sentence comes out of his ear and dissipates into the air. It’s the same voice that says Majima-no-nii-san? in that stoic but respectful tone.
Nah, couldn’t be.
…Right?
The voice speaks again and says I want you to be my first.
Majima honest to God would be cackling right now at the thought of Kiryu doing voice work in a yaoi game if it didn’t make all the blood in his head rush to his dick like it has no other purpose. What could have possibly compelled Kiryu, the guy who can fight an army of men and come out without a scratch, the guy who’s stopped more wars than Majima can count, the fucking Dragon of Dojima to do voice acting for a yaoi game? And as the bottom no less?
(Not that Majima ever pictured Kiryu being anything but a bottom, but hey, his point still stands. If those descriptors applied to you, would you want to voice a bottom in a yaoi game? He didn’t think so.)
A fleeting thought: Kiryu can’t have done the rest of this, right? The sex scenes, he can’t have possibly voiced those, can he?
Something feels very wrong about continuing the game, but Majima has to know. He clicks enter.
You… Are you sure you want it to be me, Abe-kun? I won’t be able to hold myself back. You’re positive you’re ready?
Majima swallows thickly. He shifts uncomfortably, pressing down on the unwarranted stiffness in his pants as if to will it away, but it just makes him harder. Go figure.
Yes, I’m sure , Abe says. Kiryu says. But… It’s my first time. Please be gentle with me.
If Majima were a weaker man, he’d likely have creamed his trousers right then and there, but, despite being weaker than he appears under all the gaudy clothes and brash way of speaking, he can conjure up some semblance of self-control, and creaming himself over his once-subordinate asking to be plowed gently is something that applies to. Somehow. Majima’s brain is an interesting place.
The screen changes to a drawing of Abe and Michiue kissing, and wet smacking sounds fill the otherwise quiet room. It’s exaggerated, of course, but there’s something about it that makes Majima’s gut clench. He thinks about pressing Kiryu into the brick wall behind that bar he’s always at, thinks about Kiryu’s jaw falling slack and the little surprised noises he might make as Majima crowds him.
He’s always been so easy to fluster.
Seriously, all Majima would have to do is say something like Oh, Kiryu-chan, it’s so cold, why don’t you come warm me up? and he would take it the exact way Majima means it but thinks he doesn’t, because he’s a little dumb when it comes to those sorts of things. He always gets all flushed and stuttery, blinking fast and avoiding eye contact like it would ever get Majima to stop. Don’t even get Majima started on when he’s doing something seriously incriminating-- like that time Majima caught him buying gay porn and he could see Kiryu’s soul up and leave his body.
Your mouth is so soft, Michiue tells Abe, and Abe-- Kiryu makes a noise that sounds halfway between strangled and awestruck and then Michiue is murmuring, You’re already hard?
Majima wonders, offhandedly, what Kiryu’s dick looks like. He reckons it’d be pretty big, wouldn’t it? Since the rest of Kiryu is. He wonders if he’s cut or not, if he’s particularly leaky, whether he keeps his pubic hair trimmed neat or if he lets it grow wildly to contrast the rest of him-- maybe he just can’t be bothered. Majima thinks about the weight of it on his tongue. If Kiryu would make the same noises he is on screen for him.
It only makes sense that Majima has his own dick out, now, though it certainly isn’t the first time he’s gotten off thinking about Kiryu. Who could blame him, especially now? When you stumble upon media of the guy you’ve been chasing for more than a decade making all sorts of pretty noises, you’re going to whip your dick out. Even more so if you’re as much of a masochist as Majima is. And Majima is a very big masochist.
Distantly, it feels very wrong to be jerking it to a game targeted at young women, but that thought is completely overpowered by the sounds of Kiryu panting and humming as Michiue takes him into his mouth. It’s soft, a weak exhale of breath before he makes a noise pitched slightly higher than his normal voice-- it makes Majima let out a soft sound of his own.
He imagines Kiryu would be pretty shy at the beginning. He’d cover his face with the back of his hand and look away as Majima tongued at him, gloved hand sliding up his abdomen to play with his chest. He’d be bashful in his hips kicking forward, in the subdued sounds of pleasure he’d want to make but was too embarrassed to at first. His hand would pull at Majima’s hair only minutely, thick thighs trembling as Majima deepthroated him.
Michi, Abe whines, it feels good.
This too feels good-- Majima doesn’t remember jerking off feeling like this, though perhaps it’s because he hasn’t got to infer what sorts of noises Kiryu makes when he’s getting laid anymore. Majima feels himself squint as he watches the screen and listens to the wet sounds of Michiue sucking Abe off, nose buried in purple hair.
The image changes; Michiue is fingering Abe open now. Where the lube came from, Majima hasn’t the slightest, but he’s not focusing on the logistics of the game when Kiryu makes the absolute sweetest noise after being breached. Majima thinks about tying him up and milking him until he’s crying, a ring nestled tightly around him to keep him hard, to keep him sensitive. He thinks about dragging his fingertips over Kiryu’s back to watch the dragon dance as he quivers. About the goosebumps that would draw under his tan skin. About nii-san, please let me come.
Majima grips the base of his cock and hisses-- he can’t be shooting off already, not until he gets to hear what he’s been anticipating since he realized it was Kiryu in the game.
Sometime between the fingering and Majima imagining what Kiryu might look like should he edge him for hours, the image on screen changes to one of Abe bent over one of the desks, sweater rucked up his skinny frame and his trousers around his ankles. Michiue leans over him, lips on his neck.
Are you ready, Abe-kun? he asks. I promise I’ll be gentle.
Shakily, Kiryu responds I’m ready, and after a moment, please take me, Michi.
Majima imagines himself in Michiue’s place, bending Kiryu over a desk. Maybe his one at HQ; the one that's been severely underused. He thinks about pressing Kiryu down with a palm flat on his back, about the squeak he might make as his cock is forced into the mahogany. He likes the pain though. They both do. His hands would flip Kiryu onto his back once he was satisfied with feeling him over his clothes, with listening to him pant in wanting. He’d spend time tweaking Kiryu’s nipples over his dress shirt before sinking into him, and too sinking two fingers into his mouth to make sure he couldn’t hide any of his sounds.
Oh , Kiryu moans, needy, whiny. Majima’s cock spits onto his hand. Oh, you’re so big, Michi. It feels good .
Contrastingly, he thinks about pressing Kiryu up against the grimy wall of a public park bathroom, hand over his mouth to keep him quiet as he slides into him. They’d still be fully dressed, wouldn’t they? It’d be inconvenient otherwise, should they need to make a hasty escape. Majima wouldn’t want to take his clothes off in a place like that anyways. Kiryu’s legs would be spread far apart enough that his pants would stay firmly in place around his thighs, and with the hand not covering his mouth, Majima would fist his shirt and blazer to give himself leverage as he fucks into him roughly. Quiet, Kiryu-chan, he’d say, you want the whole city to know how much of a slut you are? Though he’d probably take the liberty of making his boys clear off the adjacent street so there was no one to hear him, aside from maybe the odd subordinate keeping watch. Still, Kiryu would whine into his hand, pressing his hips back insistently. He’d be hungry for it.
Abe-kun, Michiue moans. You feel so good around me. You’re so tight.
Kiryu would, Majima can imagine, feel very good around him. He figures Kiryu probably isn’t super well versed in this stuff, so he would be pretty tight, wouldn’t he? He’d be so hot he’s sweltering, sucking Majima in like he’s the only thing that can satiate the dull burn within him. Soft and pliant. Desperate for it. He’d whine when Majima sinks in, hands reaching to grip at Majima’s sinewy biceps to ground himself. He’d be cute, too, with his eyes dewy and that telltale flush on his tan skin. Lips trembling. Hair mussed and falling over his forehead, giving him an air of youth he hasn’t seen in years, despite only being in his thirties. His youth was stripped away through clan wars and behind prison bars.
Michi, Kiryu whimpers, I-I feel funny. I think I’m close.
Majima is too, he realizes. Honestly, he’s surprised he’s held off this long. Going to hold off a little longer, though. He needs to hear the sound Kiryu makes when he cums before he’ll let himself finish.
Me too, Michiue tells him. The image switches so that Michiue’s hand has snaked beneath them, though the sight of him jerking Abe off is obscured by one of his thighs-- likely to prevent having to censor his cock. Not that it really matters; Majima isn’t getting off to the drawings.
Kiryu makes a very pretty nose when he cums. It’s high and airy and unlike him, but it sends a shock of heat up Majima’s spine. He imagines Kiryu with his back arched, his jaw hanging open and his brows knit tightly. He imagines the flush that would stretch to his thighs, the way he’d shake as he spills all over himself. It’s very picturesque, Majima does have to say.
It seems only fitting that Majima would cum so hard it shoots up into his hair. It’d be embarrassing, he thinks, if the sound of Kiryu coming down from his orgasm weren’t ringing in his ears. For a moment, he’s just panting heavily, arm thrown over his face as he listens to Abe squeak as Michiue pulls out.
That was nice, he says. I’m glad it was you.
I’m glad too, Abe-kun.
Majima, however, is not glad. It’s not the first time he’s jerked off to Kiryu, and no doubt not going to be the last, but there’s something icky that settles over him as he closes the laptop. Something different, this time around. He thinks about it as he washes the cum out of his hair with water so hot it burns.
-
Majima decides the next day that he’s going to see Kiryu about the game. This, admittedly, is probably not a good idea, considering not only had he played the game, but he’d also gotten off on it. Because of Kiryu. What’s he supposed to say? Hey, Kiryu-chan, found the gay smut game you acted in. Pulled the patch to it. You sound pretty when you come. Maybe he will say that, actually. Or something along those lines. Excluding the part about him getting off to it-- he’s not that much of an idiot, contrary to popular belief.
He makes his way over to that bar Kiryu holes up at-- Serena, was it?-- some time in the evening. It’s getting dark, and the air is slightly brisk as he stubs out his smoke and takes the back stairs up. The bar is empty, save for the mama, who’s drying glasses. She startles only slightly, but then, usually people don’t come in through the back.
Before he can even ask, she says, “You’re Majima.”
He looks down at himself, at his gaudy jacket and leather pants and steel capped boots. “What gave it away?”
“Have you come to destroy my bar?”
Majima is actually, honestly offended at the statement. Sure, he likes to get in fights, and sure he’s caused a lot of money in property damage in the past, but that was the past. He’s a changed man. For the most part. Still, if he and Kiryu have a tussle, he’ll be sure to take it outside. There’s less furniture for Kiryu to slam over his head that way.
“Would ya’ believe me if I said I wanted a drink?” She purses her lips. No, then. That’s fine. “Look, is Kiryu-chan in? Need to talk to ‘im.”
She doesn’t answer. Majima huffs. Piece of work, this one.
“Look, nee-chan. I ain’t here to destroy yer bar. Scouts honor. I seriously just wanna talk to him.”
She looks him over once or twice as though debating before she nods curtly. “Alright. He’s in the back room.”
Majima doesn’t move. “I’d prefer to talk to him alone,” he says. He’s not really sure where this night is going to go, and he’d rather not have an audience for wherever it does. The Mama stares at him blankly. Majima is five seconds away from jumping off the building. “Babe. This might be going places I ain’t really want you seein’ ‘kay? It’s honestly in yer best interest if ya’ just lock up for a few hours.”
“So you are going to fight and destroy my bar.”
“It might be going other places.”
The Mama blinks at him for a few moments before realization hits her. “Oh,” she says, cheeks rosy. Majima fights a very strong urge to roll his eye. “I had no idea.”
“Well, it ain’t happened yet,” he says. “Last thing I need is someone butting their head in halfway through.”
“So you think I’ll let you defile my back room?”
Majima shrugs. “Yeah, I was hoping so.”
Mama sighs. A key is tossed in his direction, and he catches it easily. “Please don’t break anything. And if you have a drink, you pay for it.”
Majima grins, cool and smooth. “Thanks, babe.”
As she walks out the door, Majima lets himself into the back room. It's a small, conservative room, with nothing but a small table and a ratty looking couch, on which Kiryu is napping. He looks stoic even in sleep, Majima acknowledges, eye raking over the downturned corners of his mouth and the way his constantly-drawn eyebrows have softened, but are still pulled together.
He doesn’t admire Kiryu for too long, kicking him with a steel toe that does nothing more than cause a rumble to stir in his chest. Majima crosses his arms, watching Kiryu rub at his eyes. “Oi,” Majima says. “Wake up.”
“Majima-no-nii-san?” he asks, voice groggy. It makes something stir in the pit of Majima’s stomach. “What are you doing here?”
That is the question, isn’t it? What is Majima doing here? Being an idiot, of course, but when is he not?
“Needed to talk to ya’,” he says, shifting his weight so he’s leaning on one side, distantly wishing he’d brought his bat to fashion into a makeshift walking stick. “Show ya’ something I found.”
“Uh,” Kiryu says, sitting up. He’s in just his burgundy shirt and his dress pants, blazer strewn around the back of the couch. He looks soft, almost, with his hair out of place and a few more buttons on his shirt undone than usual. Majima eyes the strip of tanned skin hungrily, but only for a moment. “What’s up?”
“Well , Kiryu-chan,” Majima starts, laying the theatrics on thick. “It was a few days ago that something came into my possession. Something very interesting, I should add. I dunno how I got it, really it just-- poof ! Right into my hands.” He gestures wildly, and Kiryu stares blankly. “It was a video game. Now, normally, I don’t like that shit, you know. Too damn old to be playin’ video games. But I was bored, right, and I didn’t have anythin’ else to do, so I figured, why the fuck not, and called up Nishida to get a computer to put the damn thing in.” Majima pulls out the cartridge from where he’d kept it in his back pocket and holds it up.
“I,” Kiryu says, “don’t quite see how this has anything to do with me.”
“I’m getting there, Jesus. Yer so impatient, Kiryu-chan. Anyway. So I load up the game, right, and it’s some sorta click-through visual novel type deal with some pretty anime looking boys and whatnot. Now, normally I wouldn’t dream of touching such a thing-- why would I? But, like I said, I was bored. So I load it up, and I start playing, and there’s something so familiar about the main character that I can’t put my finger on it until I can . Let me tell ya’, Kiryu-chan, realizing that was a real’ doozy.”
Majima tosses the cartridge in Kiryu’s lap, and he picks it up, inspecting it. “I still don’t get it,” he says, after a moment.
“Sure you do,” Majima leers, leaning over and tapping Abe’s face on the front cover. It doesn’t seem to stir anything within Kiryu, but then, Majima assumes he’s probably purged the memory of recording for the game from his brain. Most people would. “You’re in it, ain’tcha?”
“I’m in it?”
“Yeah, Abe-chan,” Majima laughs. “You made some real’ pretty noises, you know. What would everyone think of ya’ if they knew the big ol’ Dragon o’ Dojima did voice acting where he got fucked over a desk by his childhood best friend? And others, I’m assuming, but I only did the one route, ya’ know.”
Any traces of sleep are wiped from Kiryu as the colour drains from his face. Bingo. “I…” he trails off, maintaining eye contact to try and hide the fact that he probably wants to crawl into a hole and die. Majima doesn’t blame him, but it’s not like he’s going to stop ribbing. Kiryu is so easy to rile up. It’s so cute. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, nii-san.”
“No?” Majima questions, playful lilt to his tone. “How ‘bout I jog yer memory, huh? That help?”
“Please don’t.”
But he’s going to, because it’s Majima. “Oh,” Majima moans, emulating that high pitched tone that had found itself in Kiryu’s voice the night prior. He makes a show of reaching a gloved hand down to grab at his crotch as his face scrunches in pseudo pleasure. “It’s my first time, hah, please be gentle mmh~! Oh, you’re so deep! It feels so good, Michi! Oh!”
A hand slaps over his mouth, and Majima’s body slumps, opening his eye back up uninterestedly. Kiryu’s face is so red he looks sunburnt. “I mean this in the most respectful way I can, nii-san: please shut the fuck up.”
Majima bites his hand. He stumbles backwards. “I’m gonna tell everyone,” Majima says, even though he has no intention to. “And then everyone will know what the Kiryu Kazuma sounds like when he takes it up his ass.”
Kiryu makes a startled noise. “Don’t you dare.”
“Or what? What’re ya’ gonna do, huh?” Majima asks, grinning sly. “Gonna fight me?”
They haven’t done it like this in a while, and it feels good. Nostalgic. Him ribbing Kiryu, pushing his buttons and giving him a reason to throw down, and Kiryu, giving in eventually, because he needs the release just as much as Majima. Honestly, Majima doesn’t know why he hasn’t done this in so long. It’s so good.
He loves seeing the little quirk in Kiryu’s upper lip as he contemplates his options, likes the way his eyebrows furrow even more to deepen his permanent scowl. “You’re really pulling this stuff again, nii-san?”
“Who would I be if I wasn’t?”
Kiryu grabs his wrist, tugs him so they’re walking out of the back room and into the bar. If he notices the Mama is gone, he doesn’t question it.
“Woah,” Majima laughs, though he follows Kiryu like a dog. “Easy there, big boy. I make you that mad?”
They’re out the bar, down the stairs, and Kiryu is forcing him up against the wall with a hand fisted in his jacket and a scowl on his face. Heat licks up Majima’s spine, and he grins widely.
Majima tries to shift under him but he’s being held firmly in place. “I will end you if you start spreading rumours about me, nii-san.”
Majima scoffs. “Hardly rumours if they’re true,” he says. “What, you don’t want people knowing what you sound like when you’ve got a dick in ya’? I think ya’ sound pretty good, Kiryu-chan. Ya’ really went all out with that voice acting. Makes me wonder if ya’ weren’t really acting at all. Isn’t that funny, thinking ‘bout you gettin--” The knee to his stomach cuts him off, and he splutters, trying to get his breath back. Once caught, Majima laughs airly, tipping his head back. “You know, that ain’t self-defence, Kiryu-chan. I could sue ya’ for that.”
“You provoked me,” Kiryu says flatly, blinking slow. “I’m defending my dignity.”
Majima headbutts him, and he recoils enough Majima can slink out of his grasp. He takes a swing at him, but Kiryu dodges. They circle around each other for a few moments as Majima replies, “not sure how that’ll hold up in a court of law, Kiryu-chan.”
“This coming from the man who kidnapped my daughter and attacked me with a knife and bat for a year?”
“Fair enough.”
Majima makes a dive for him, and Kiryu just barely manages to get out of the way. When he tries again, it’s the same outcome. They continue to circle each other, neither making a move.
He sucks his teeth, eye narrowed at Kiryu. This is no fun if he doesn’t play along-- he was the one who threw the first punch (or knee, Majima supposes) after all. “Oi, oi. Don’t be like that. Thought you were gonna beat me into submission, huh? To protect your little secret. Surely ya’ don’t think a knee to the gut will cut it, Kiryu-chan. That shit won’t even bruise.”
Majima realizes distantly that he’s been backing Kiryu into the wall for the past few moments, and also that Kiryu is following. That’s… strange. What’s up with him?
“What’s yer problem?”
“Nothing, nii-san,” Kiryu says. His voice is strained. How curious.
Majima steps closer. Kiryu’s back hits the brick. “Somethin’s the matter,” he states, matter of factly, as it does happen to be a matter of fact. Majima’s not quite sure when the change in Kiryu’s behaviour occurred, but it’s certainly noticeable now. “You were nothin’ but eager a few minutes ago, Kiryu-chan. Wanted to shut me up so bad. What changed?”
“Nothing changed.”
“So why are you the one up against the wall right now?”
Majima looks him over, head to toe for a moment, and oh, oh. Alright then.
“Yer hard,” Majima points out. He is-- Majima can see the outline of his dick where it’s straining against the tight material of his trousers. His mouth waters involuntarily.
“No I’m not,” Kiryu says stupidly, as though Majima’s lone eye is just as useless as the crevice where his other one used to be.
Without thinking, he reaches a hand back to grab Kiryu through his slacks, squeezing at him through the fabric as he raises an eyebrow as he says, “Yer not, eh?”
“Is this not sexual assault? Have we moved on from physical?”
Kiryu doesn’t sound too offended, though. In fact, the blush on his cheeks and the way his chest is heaving in silent pants are telltale signs to Majima that he likes it. Probably. Hopefully. At least, if this ends up with him getting pummeled, he’ll be able to say that he got his hands on Kiryu once.
“You sayin’ ya’ want me to stop?” Majima purrs. Kiryu doesn’t answer. A serious look graces Majima’s features. “Do you want me to stop, Kiryu-chan?”
Kiryu doesn’t say anything once again, and without hesitation, Majima makes a move to pull his hand away. He’s not that much of an asshole. Sure, he wouldn’t hesitate to punch someone in the face for no reason other than particularly feeling like it, but Majima would never take advantage of someone like that. Especially not Kiryu.
To his surprise though, Kiryu’s big hand wraps around his wrist, pulling his hand back to palm at his length. Majima cocks an eyebrow, lips curling upwards again. “Oh?”
And Kiryu just says, “nii-san,” all small and soft, and Majima is as good as gone.
It’s his turn, now, to do the dragging. He hauls Kiryu by the wrist back up the stairs and through the back door of Serena, and as soon as they’re in the back room he’s shoving Kiryu onto the couch, tugging off his gloves and crawling onto his lap.
The kiss Majima presses to his mouth is hot and wet, tongue coaxing his lips apart and hands holding either side of Kiryu’s face to keep him in place, not that he’d move. Kiryu’s own slip under Majima’s jacket, fingers running deftly over the jut of his spine as he makes a soft noise into Majima’s open mouth.
He sinks his teeth into Kiryu’s bottom lip, grinning. “You sounded so good,” he murmurs, moving to nose under Kiryu’s ear. He smells like cologne and tobacco and sleep. Majima feels himself get drunk on it, head hazy as his mind is filled with Kiryu on repeat like a mantra. “In the game. So fuckin’ pretty.”
Kiryu makes an indignant noise, embarrassed. Majima brings his chin back where he’s turned away to hide his face. He’s so flushed, cheeks dark and hot where Majima smoothes a hand over one.
“I got off to it,” he says, dragging his teeth over the exposed skin where he’s taken the liberty of pulling Kiryu’s collar to the side. Kiryu’s hands stutter in their exploration of Majima’s back, tilting his head to the side to offer more area. “Listenin’ to ya’. Thought about getting on my knees for ya’. Fuckin’ ya’. All yer pretty noises drove me up the wall, Kiryu-chan.”
“R-Really?” Kiryu breathes out shakily, pupils blown wide as Majima pulls back.
“Mhmm,” Majima hums. “Would ya’ like that?”
“L-Like what?”
Majima looks him over, eyeing his heaving chest. He slides his hands down to pop open some of the buttons, to reveal smooth tan skin and sharp collar bones. “Me getting on my knees for ya’,” he explains, hand slipping inside. He runs his finger tips over a nipple, circling it, and Kiryu leans up into his touch. “Fucking ya’.”
It takes a second, but Kiryu says, “Yes, nii-san.”
Majima smiles, pleased. He sits back, picking open the rest of Kiryu’s shirt buttons. He lets it fall open, smoothing over the hard plains of his abdominal muscles which quiver under his touch. Kiryu is so pretty, all muscles and smooth, tan skin for miles; dark nipples and a flushed chest and his eyebrows all screwed up like he’s contemplative. Majima wants to devour him.
“Good,” Majima says, sliding off Kiryu’s lap and settling between his knees, squeezing at his thick thighs. “Good, Kiryu-chan. You’re so good.”
Kiryu makes a noise at the praise, and Majima locks it away for later-- figures he’d have a praise kink. He undoes Kiryu’ belt deftly, not bothering to pull it out of its loops as he pops open the clasps and slides down the zipper on his slacks. He runs his hand over Kiryu through his underwear for a moment as he contemplates whether or not to get him to shimmy out of his pants just yet. He ultimately decides against it, pulling Kiryu’s underwear down and tucking them back so his erection stands.
Majima whistles low through his teeth. Kiryu is somewhat like he imagined; thick, flushed and ruddy with the foreskin pulled back over his head. It’s hot and heavy in his palm, twitching as Majima thumbs over his slit a few times, not yet weeping but Majima figures he could get there should he be teased enough.
Majima doesn’t want to tease him now, though.
“Shit,” he says, low, giving a few pulls that have Kiryu sucking in air above him. “Ain’t you a sight to behold, eh? Pretty cock for a pretty boy. Thought about gettin’ this cock down my throat for ages, Kiryu-chan, you have no fuckin’ clue.”
“Nii-san,” Kiryu huffs indignantly, looking down at Majima like he’s got two heads.
“What?” Majima asks. “M’I embarrassing you, Kiryu-chan?”
“A little,” Kiryu relents.
Majima grins. “Good. Yer cute when yer flustered.”
Taking Kiryu into his mouth is easy. He’s slow about it, lazy, though he feels jittery in eagerness at the taste of Kiryu’s cock finally on his tongue. It’s jumpy like it’s never had a mouth on it before, and it would make Majima choke were he not seasoned. He slides one hand up Kiryu’s chest, fingers circling and tugging at his nipples as the other reaches to find Kiryu’s hand where it lays tightly balled by his thigh, uncurling his fingers. He places it on his head, encouraging Kiryu to tug.
He doesn’t, of course, but Majima hadn’t really been expecting him to. He’s a relatively gentle person when it doesn’t come to beating people up. Kiryu’s other hand is covering his face, palm outward, slightly muffling the gentle mewling noises he keeps making. Majima’s stomach twists. He’s so cute.
He pulls off to press kisses up the shaft, to dip his tongue into the slit, all the while his eye remains focused on Kiryu so he can catalogue the minute changes in his face. The way his eyebrows draw tighter then relax. The way he habitually bites his index finger and then releases it. His jaw clenching and releasing tension every few moments. He’s pretty. Majima is going to have this tattooed on the inside of his brain so he can look at it every time he shuts his eye.
Swallowing Kiryu down again, Majima presses the heel of his palm to himself to alleviate the pressure of his cock straining against the fly. He’s lax in his movements, unhurried. He doesn’t want to rush this. Majima has been waiting to get his mouth on Kiryu for years.
“Nii-san,” Kiryu says, voice shaky and pitched slightly higher than normal. Majima looks up at him lazily, unyielding in the slow, lax bobs of his head. “I’ll… come if you don’t stop.”
Majima pulls off, still stroking lax with his hand. “Can ya’ go more than once?”
Kiryu is flustered by the question, but then, he’s flustered by everything. “Probably,” he says, after a little time spent on what Majima can only assume was jumping over mental hurdles. “But I don’t really want to come like this.”
“Alright,” Majima murmurs, pulling his hand away. “No problem, Kiryu-chan. Whatever ya’ want.”
“Could you… Could you kiss me again?”
Majima grins, moving to climb back onto Kiryu’s lap and claim his mouth once again. He’s more confident this time around, less fumbling. He’s sure of himself as he pulls Majima closer by the lapels, and too as he smooths a hand over the irezumi on Majima’s chest, skin heated under his fingers. Majima stops him when his hand goes for his belt. “Let me.” He stands for long enough to allow him to shimmy his tight leather pants off, leaving him in his just his tight black briefs and jacket as he settles back on top of Kiryu.
“Kind of expected you not to be wearing any.” He slides his palm over the cotton on Majima’s hips.
“Have you ever free-balled in leather pants? It’s like a fuckin’ pool down there with how sweaty that shit gets. I have dignity, Kiryu-chan.” He slips his jacket off his shoulders, though not before he makes a move to dig in the pocket for the stuff he’d shoved in earlier. Except: “Aw, fuck.”
Of course he wouldn’t have the hindsight to bring a condom. Lube, but no condom. He’s so stupid.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t have a condom.” Majima rubs at his face, sighing. “I mean, we can always go all the way another time, Kiryu-chan. I can just get ya’ off if you want.” It’s disappointing, but he’s not just gonna rawdog Kiryu the first time they fuck. He’s classier than that. Usually. The thought is a bit intoxicating, though.
“No, it’s alright,” Kiryu tells him. “We can do it without one.”
Majima blinks. That easy? “Ya’ sure? I mean, I’m clean and since you said that I assume you are too, so it’s fine with me either way, but are ya’ really sure?”
“I’ve never, um…” Kiryu trails off, waving his hand as if to explain. After a moment, he decides to say, “I’m clean, too.”
He’s never what? Never had sex without a condom? Never had sex with a man? Never-- oh, God, he’s never had sex at all . Majima can tell from the way he’s blushing furiously and turning away that this is what he had meant.
“Yer a virgin?” Majima blanches. Life imitates art, and all that shit.
“I mean, I’ve like, made out and stuff like that. Been groped over my clothes. But yes, I’m a virgin. Is that a… problem?” Kiryu, the poor bastard, actually looks as if he’s worried Majima won't want him now. Majima’s chest squeezes.
God, Kiryu is forty and he’s never gone past second base. Majima isn’t making fun of him, or anything, and truly, honestly it doesn’t matter, it’s just that Kiryu is so hot. He has people throwing themselves at him constantly-- it’s hard to believe he’s never done anything more than kiss. Majima had figured Kiryu probably wasn’t super well versed in this stuff, but a virgin? It’s endearing at the same time it makes Majima want to cry.
“No, Kiryu-chan, Jesus, it’s not a problem. S’just… You really want to do it like this?” He pinches at the bridge of his nose. He can’t believe Kiryu was about to let him take his virginity in the back room of Serena-- that’s, like, majorly fucked up. He deserves better than that.
Kiryu tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
“Shouldn’t it be special or something? Ya’ know. Flower petals and smelly candles and prolonged eye contact and shit. At least a proper bed, Kiryu-chan, seriously. Not a haphazard fuck with me in the back room of yer favourite bar.”
“Nii-san, I’m in my forties. I think I’m past the point of caring about that stuff.”
Majima makes a face. “Yeah but,” he starts, sighing. “Don’t you at least want it to be with someone ya’ really like?” Someone who isn’t him is what he means. Why would Kiryu want to waste his virginity on a guy who lives to tease and torment him?
Kiryu looks at Majima like he’s stupid. “I do like you, nii-san.”
“That ain’t what I mean.”
Kiryu takes Majima’s face in his hands, squeezing his cheeks a little. He looks serious. More serious than he usually does, at least. “Why do you think I put up with all of your antics and mannerisms and backwards way of dealing with things?”
“I dunno,” Majima says. “Cuz ya’ feel bad?”
“No,” Kiryu deadpans. “Because I like you, nii-san. Romantically. I don’t mind that my first time is going to be in the back room of my favourite bar, because it being with you is what makes it special. Not any of that cheesy stuff.”
Majima presses their foreheads together. Something sickly sweet fills his chest and he pushes it down. “Alright, alright,” he says, “I like you, you like me. Yer a virgin who’s going to be deflowered by someone ya’ like. Glad we’ve established all that sappy shit.”
“Sappy shit.”
“Now, since that’s all cleared out: are ya’ sure ya’ want it to be me, Abe-kun ?” Majima recites, snickering. “I won’t be able to hold myself back. Are you positive you’re ready?”
“Shut up,” Kiryu groans, but he lets Majima slip off his shirt where it’s pooling around his elbows.
“I’m just teasing,” Majima murmurs, leaning down to kiss his collar bone. “I’ll take real’ good care of ya’, Kiryu-chan. Promise.”
“I wouldn’t expect any less.”
“Think that highly of me?”
Kiryu shakes his head. “Just trust you.”
Majima presses his face to Kiryu’s shoulder, cheeks burning. “You seriously are such a fuckin’ sap, Kiryu-chan. God. What the fuck . This all started cuz’ I’m an asshole who found yer porn game and yer talkin’ to me like that. Fuck.”
“Would you rather me try my hand at bad dirty talk?”
“Fuck, no,” Majima bites, moving to get Kiryu to shimmy out of his pants. “I can imagine it already: Oh, Majima-no-nii-san. Please fill my slutty virgin hole. I’m aching for you. Please,” he imitates Kiryu’s typical deadpan, and Kiryu’s face flushes red.
“Please don’t call it a slutty virgin hole.”
“It is one, ain’t it?” Kiryu doesn’t answer. “I’ll be real’ nice, ‘kay? Open ya’ up nice n’ slow for me.”
Kiryu turns his head away bashfully. “Why are you good at bad dirty talk?”
“Cuz’ I’m hot, obviously. Now, you gonna let me see that virgin hole o’ yours or what?”
Kiryu squawks indignantly, but moves so he’s lying on his front regardless, one leg hanging off the side of the couch. Majima settles in behind him, smoothing his hands over Kiryu’s cheeks, over his dragon. He’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at; like staring at the sun. Majima could study him for hours: the ridge of his spine, the irezumi that paints his back in colourful swirls of ink, the curve of his thick thighs, the sharp line of his calves. It’s honestly hard for Majima to think of someone more stunning than Kiryu is.
And not even just on the outside either, though Majima is certainly not complaining about his looks, he’s genuinely a good guy. Good guys are hard to come by, these days. And sure, Kiryu’s ways of solving his problems usually end in fists, but he wants to help people. Majima has seen Kiryu running all over Kamuro helping people with the most random shit just because he’s good like that.
“Nii-san?” Kiryu asks. His skin is pebbled from the cold draft.
“Sorry,” Majima says, drumming a short beat on Kiryu’s ass with his hands. If he could see Kiryu’s face, he’d see his cheeks darken more. “Got distracted. Yer a real’ sight fer sore eyes, know that?”
“You think?”
“Have ya’ looked in the mirror lately?”
A pause. “Thanks.” Another moment passes. “Are you going to prepare me, nii-san?”
Right, that.
He clicks open the lube and drizzles it over Kiryu’s hole until it’s glistening in the stark fluorescent lighting of the back room. When he’s sufficiently wet, Majima makes a move to press one digit in. He works slow, considerate of the fact that Kiryu has never done this, and below him, Kiryu sucks in a breath.
“Y’alright?”
Kiryu nods. “I’ve… tried this by myself before,” he explains. “Been a long time, but.”
Mental images flash through Majima’s stupid horny brain. He sees Kiryu, maybe early nineties, sinking down onto his own fingers, lip caught between his teeth, sweat gathering at his hairline. He imagines the curve of his body as he folds sideways to accommodate the reach, and also the soft little breaths that would escape him and the way his brows would knit when he can’t get the right angle.
Majima rests his forehead on Kiryu’s lower back, whining. “Yer gonna kill me, I swear.”
“What?”
“You can’t just tell me that you’ve spent time fingerin’ yerself before, Kiryu-chan, seriously. You have any idea what kinda shit is going through my head now?”
Kiryu shudders as Majima’s finger twists slightly inside of him. “Something-- mmh, less than savoury?”
“Less than savoury?” Majima asks incredulously. “So fuckin’ sweet I have cavities.”
He works him open on one finger, and then two, until Kiryu’s hips are stuttering into the plush of the couch, until he’s mewling, until: “Oh, shit, what the fuck, nii-san?”
Majima presses his fingers to the same spot, and Kiryu moans. “Found yer prostate.”
“No kidding,” Kiryu huffs, pressing back against him. “It feels weird.”
“Bad weird?” Kiryu shakes his head, pressing his face into his forearms. “Thought this ain’t the first time you’ve had fingers in ya’?”
“The angle was never good enough for me to-- ah, reach it.” He whines as Majima rubs circles into the spot, arching. Majima’s eye rakes over him, drinking in the curve of his spine, the rivulets of sweat that roll down it. “I feel like I’m cumming but I’m not.”
“Good, right?” Majima asks, giving a few last twists of his fingers before he takes them out. Kiryu clenches open and closed at the loss. “Want me t’fuck ya’ now?”
“Yes,” Kiryu tells him. He lifts his hips slightly, presses backwards, almost as if to present himself. Majima’s stomach flips. “Please.”
“You’re so good, Kiryu-chan.” He slicks himself with little preamble, tossing the bottle aside once he’s sufficiently wet, and lines himself up with Kiryu. The first press inside is slow, considerate. Kiryu’s back has gone rigid, and not a sound escapes him. “Ya’ need to breathe,” Majima tells him.
“I’m trying.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No!” Kiryu’s hand flies back to grab Majima’s wrist where his hand rests at Kiryu’s hip. “Please, keep going. It’s just new.”
He gets in about halfway and asks, “Y’alright?” Kiryu nods. He continues to press in until his hips touch Kiryu’s skin. “All inside,” he tells him.
Kiryu lets out a shaky breath. “You can move now, nii-san.”
He’s slow, careful in his pulling out and pressing back in, eye fixated on Kiryu as though to catch any minute display of discomfort so he can alleviate it as soon as possible. There’s something warm swimming within him; he’d come here in hopes of relieving the sexual tension they’ve had for years, but now finds himself overflowing with the want to take care of Kiryu. Majima reckons Kiryu probably hasn’t had anyone to take care of him like this before. He’s never wanted to take care of someone like this before, except for maybe back in the eighties. It’s an overwhelming feeling, but despite being somewhat unheard of for him, it isn’t bad.
Kiryu gasps under him, back arching minutely as Majima fucks him slowly. “Ya’ alright, Kiryu-chan?”
“It feels good,” Kiryu tells him. His fingers are biting into the material of the couch, knuckles growing white as he lifts his hips back to meet Majima.
He sounds so pretty. Prettier than the game, Majima thinks, though it’s likely because he knows this is the real thing. His voice is soft, breathy, little whines and mewls that he tries to hide in the meat of his arm. Majima leans down to kiss him between the shoulderblades, hips grinding and rolling smooth as he trails one hand under Kiryu’s chin to lift his face.
“Sound so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he tells him, tonguing over his nape. Kiryu only moans in response and presses back more insistently. He trails a hand backwards to grasp at Majima’s forearm where he’s bracing himself on Kiryu’s hips. “God, lemme see ya’.”
He pulls out, and Kiryu makes a discontent noise at the loss.
“None of that,” Majima chides. “C’mere. Wanna see that pretty face.” He settles so he’s sitting, and after a moment, Kiryu clambers over to straddle his lap. Majima grins up at him, wolfish, and slides his hand over Kiryu’s abdomen.
Kiryu’s cheeks are red, and his eyes are glassy, and a few strands of hair have fallen out of place where they're usually so stiff. He looks shy, timid, almost, as he rests his hands on Majima’s shoulders and sinks down where Majima’s holding his cock upright.
“Oh,” he says, eyes fluttering as he gets used to the feeling. “Nii-san.”
Holding Kiryu’s hip with one hand and using the other to play with his chest, Majima plants his feet and begins lifting his hips to meet Kiryu in the middle. Kiryu gasps, stomach clenching seemingly without intention, and he falls forward so that their faces are close. They work out some sort of rhythm, a mix between Majima fucking up to meet him and Kiryu rising and falling so he’s always got at least half of Majima in him, and it feels good. Sweltering almost. Kiryu has that effect on him.
“You’re so-- deep.”
Majima lets out a shaky exhale, something akin to laughter. “Yeah? That a bad thing?”
Kiryu shakes his head furiously. “It’s really good.”
“Glad you think so. Good for me too. Yer little hole sucks me in so well.” He’s only half taking the piss.
“Please shut up.”
This time, Majima laughs outright. “Sorry,” he says, even though he isn’t. He moves so that he can catch Kiryu in a kiss, long and open-mouthed, and snakes a hand down to stroke him off in time with his leisurely thrusts. He smooths his thumb over the head of Kiryu’s cock at the same time he shoves his tongue in his mouth. Kiryu whines, suckling on it, and he clenches around Majima so tight Majima can’t help but let out a noise of his own.
He fucks Kiryu until he’s shaking, until his legs give out and he can’t move to meet Majima’s thrusts anymore, but Majima doesn’t blame him. He’s been so good for him, so eager, even though it’s his first time. Majima can’t stop kissing him all over; his mouth, his cheeks, his neck, leaving wet trails of saliva and fading pink marks, lapping up the salty sweat that collects on his skin.
“Nii-san,” Kiryu whines. His face is now shoved into the space where Majima’s neck meets his shoulder, jerking himself off since Majima’s hands are occupied with holding him up enough to get leverage to thrust inside. “I’m going to cum.”
“Yeah?” Majima huffs out, hips never ceasing. “Go ahead, Kiryu-chan. Ya’ deserve it. Been so good for me, haven’t ya’? Such a good boy."
At the praise, Kiryu shudders and lets out a high keen, not unlike the way he did in that game, and Majima can feel the cum splatter over his chest, warm and tacky. He collapses into Majima, who drops his thighs in favour of wrapping around his waist, lifting from his middle to fuck Kiryu onto his cock.
“Good,” Majima murmurs, now only thinking of getting himself off. “Good boy. So good, Kiryu-chan. I ain’t gonna last.”
“Inside,” Kiryu is babbling, every syllable curling around an over-sensitive whimper. “Inside, inside. Come inside me, nii-san, please.”
Majima does not last long, all things considered. His arms tighten around Kiryu as he gives one final thrust upwards, spilling inside of him. Kiryu moans, fingers digging into Majima’s sides.
For a while, they just lie there. Kiryu’s breath evens out slowly, and Majima traces shapes on Kiryu’s back with his fingertips. It’s not until Kiryu starts to shiver that Majima speaks.
“Come on,” he says, patting Kiryu on the bum. Kiryu does not move. “I know yer cold, Kiryu-chan, don’t be difficult.”
“But,” Kiryu says, not lifting his head. “I’m comfortable.”
He’s going to be the death of Majima, he swears.
Warmth spreads through his chest, but he scowls. “God, Kiryu-chan. You can lie down on me once ya’ put yer clothes back on. Who knew ya’d be so damn clingy after sex?”
Begrudgingly, Kiryu shimmies off of Majima and slips back into his underwear, even though Majima knows it’s going to be a little uncomfortable when the seed inevitably starts to trickle out of him. Majima watches him slip his trousers back on, and too his shirt, though he doesn’t button it. The only article of clothing Majima puts back on is his briefs.
“How come you don’t have to get dressed?”
“Cuz’ yer gonna be lyin’ on me,” Majima says. “C’mere.”
They settle so that Majima is lying on his back with Kiryu tucked into his side, a leg thrown over his waist. It’s a tight squeeze, and nowhere near an ideal sleeping situation, but Majima is content with it, considering it’s Kiryu.
Speaking of, it’s been quiet for so long that Majima thought Kiryu might have fallen asleep. That is, if it weren’t for the fact that his body has started vibrating a little. Majima looks down at him, concerned, and at the small sound that escapes him, he realizes Kiryu is laughing.
“What’s yer problem?”
“You just took my virginity because you found out I acted in a porn game.”
Heat rushes to Majima’s face. “Jesus, Kiryu-chan. Don’t say it like that.”
“That’s what happened.”
“Yeah, but,” Majima has to break himself off as a jab of his own laughter bubbles up from his chest. “That is pretty funny,” he concedes. “I’ll give it to ya’. How could you forget voice acting in such a thing?"
"Honestly," Kiryu tells him, "I think I just blocked it out."
That's fair enough. "Anyways," Majima murmurs, "Not my fault this has been my only in.”
“Has not.”
“Sure it has,” he says. “Ya’ know how hard it is to figure you out, Kiryu-chan? Thought ya’ hated me for so long ‘til I realized yer just like that with everyone.”
“Oh?” Kiryu asks. “I thought I was obvious.”
What. What. How on earth could any of Kiryu’s behaviour come across as obvious?
“What the fuck are ya’ talking about?”
Kiryu shrugs. His hand is splayed over Majima’s stomach, finger absentmindedly playing with the trail of hair that goes from his navel to his underwear’s band. “You know,” he says, and no, Majima doesn’t know, actually. “How I’m always saying that I like spending time with you. How whenever people doubt you I tell them I trust you wholeheartedly-- and I do. The way I’m so obviously amused by your… Majima-isms.”
“That’s obvious to you?”
“It isn’t to you?”
“Kiryu-chan, I bulldozed a crowd of men to save you once. I drove a truck through a building so that I could get yer hands on me. I chased ya’ around the city for a year because I missed ya’ while y’where in the clink. I have literally been stabbed for ya’.”
Again, Kiryu laughs. “Fair enough. I guess we just have… different ways of showing our attraction to one another.”
“Yeah, putting it lightly.”
“Did you know people call you my ‘eye-patched life partner’?”
Majima chokes. No, he didn’t know that either.
“I heard people saying that. Isn’t it funny?”
Funny, yeah, sure. Majima clears his throat. “Ya’ know, there’s… implications there, right?”
“How so?”
He can’t be serious. Majima looks down at him, sees he absolutely is. “Well, that implies…” He can’t do it. Can’t say it. “Never mind. Just forget it, Kiryu-chan.”
“Okay,” Kiryu says. “What did you do to Mariko-san?”
Is that what her name is?
“The Mama?” Kiryu makes a noise of affirmation. “Told her I was comin’ to see ya’. Implied something might happen. She hightailed outta here to give us some privacy.”
“You told her you came here for a lay?” Well, not in those terms, but yes, basically. Majima shrugs. Kiryu presses his nose to Majima’s rib cage. It’s cold. “When’s she coming back?"
“Not for a while,” he tells him. “Maybe not ‘till tomorrow. I dunno. Y’can get some shuteye. Since I interrupted yer nap earlier.”
“You don’t want to… talk about it?”
The sex? Where they stand now? Not, really, no. Majima would rather not ruin the moment with intricacies if he can help it.
“We can talk when ya’ wake up.”
“Okay.” Kiryu settles deeper into Majima. His body fits like it was made for him. “You sleep too.”
Majima does.