Work Text:
Majima loves fucking Kiryu.
Having the strongest man he knows under him is a thrill he can usually only get by fighting said man, but with sex there’s the added feeling of thrusting his dick into something as tight and warm as Kiryu’s hole. It gives his persistent libido some needed satisfaction. There’s just nothing quite like that suctioning heat, squelching with every push and pull. Music to Majima’s ears.
There is also something to be said about the way Kiryu clings to Majima. He never seems to get used to the pleasure of sex, so he holds Majima close, legs around his waist, arms around his shoulders. It makes it a little harder for Majima to do his job of fucking Kiryu’s brains out, but he doesn’t mind it. He wants to say it’s because it feels like they’re wrestling, because Majima can never get enough of fighting Kiryu. He wants to say that, because it’s not completely true.
Usually, Majima tries not to think about it—how intimate it feels. Like Kiryu’s wrapped around him because Kiryu wants him . Like he holds Majima close enough to kiss because he always feels a little less tense when they do, because he likes Majima’s presence. Like they do this because Kiryu actually loves him. It crosses his mind, sure, but why dwell on that when he can dwell on Kiryu’s fat tits?
Majima feels a little sappy tonight, though. It’s been three years since he last saw Kiryu, after all. It makes him feel a little cruel too. He doesn’t let Kiryu hold him so close, sitting up as much as he can to look at Kiryu’s face. Kiryu’s perpetual pokerface is pinched, eyes shut and brow furrowed. Kiryu can’t keep his mouth closed around punched out pants, voice hitching with each of Majima’s thrusts. He looks like he’s in pain. It’s kind of funny, honestly, but the full flush of his cheeks makes him look so sweet.
Majima impulsively slips his thumb into Kiryu’s mouth. Kiryu automatically bites down hard. He lets up when Majima hisses, soothing it with a little suckle. His eyes open just enough for Majima to see how teary they are. Now Kiryu looks properly debauched, like he’s come from an AV right onto Majima’s cock. It drives Majima a little nuts. So much so, he’s crazy enough to think Kiryu is looking at him with something besides lust.
Majima pulls at Kiryu’s cheek before slipping it out. He grabs Kiryu’s hips and fucks him hard enough to get himself off. Majima jerks Kiryu’s dick while he softens inside him.
Cleaning up is mindless, for the most part. The passing thoughts Majima does have end up being about Makoto.
They’d reunited years ago, had both gotten the closure they needed after almost 20 years. It doesn’t mean Majima ever forgot about her though. When he’s at his loneliest, his stupid brain makes him think about when they were planning to run away. He imagines what it might have been like if they had succeeded. If the van hadn’t exploded, if Sotenbori wasn’t Majima’s worst fucking nightmare, if Lee had survived and they all ran away and figured things out cleanly and lived happily ever after. If he could have ever been the one Makoto married and had a son with.
And that just reminds him of the mess he made with Mirei, and all his silly little fantasies flush straight into a shitslick drain.
He thanks the heavens he didn’t think about her while he and Kiryu were going at it animal-style. Definitely would have killed his boner.
Majima slips into bed behind Kiryu. If it were anyone else, he would have left right after his shower, but this is Kiryu-chan. If the Dragon of Dojima wants to be cuddled after sex, then who is Majima to refuse? Nevermind how much he likes cuddling too.
But that’s the problem, isn’t it. Majima isn’t meant for cuddling. As much as he’s tried to resist it for the past 20 or so years, he really is just some mangy mutt at the end of the day. His role is to be in the doghouse, called out only when needed. He doesn’t care if he’s alone, if he never gets married, if he never has kids to call his own. He’s not built for that kind of domesticity, he’s built for the cold, dirty streets of Kamurocho. He shouldn’t want all these human things that make his chest all warm and icky. He shouldn’t want what Kiryu is supposed to have. He shouldn’t be the one doing this for Kiryu.
For the first time in four years, Majima remembers Kiryu’s love interest. Not the cop that never even had a chance, but the hostess-turned-amnesiac that’d been around as long as Majima has known Kiryu. The one he made fun of Kiryu for having a crush on.
Yumi, her name was.
Majima never kept track of her personally, but when he’s given dots across a decade, he can connect them. All a bunch of convoluted bullshit about her running away from a hospital, having a surprise sister, and 10 billion yen in her pockets.
She’s dead, he knows for sure. He also knows that she’s the mother of Kiryu’s adopted daughter. Part of the reason why Kiryu loves Haruka so much in the first place.
Majima starts talking before he can really think about it. “Kiryu-chan, you awake?”
“Hm.”
“You can kick my ass for asking this, but what would ya do if that Yumi girlie never died?”
Kiryu looks back at Majima with an incredulous frown. “Wh- what…?”
“Ya think ya woulda married her? Raised yer little girlie together with her?”
Kiryu blinks. “…Why are you asking this all of a sudden?”
“Just curious,” Majima says, even though the real reason is because he needs to know if Kiryu thinks abt this too, if Kiryu has sex with Majima to fill the hole in his heart when it gets too big. He’ll only be a little teensy bit hurt when Kiryu says yes. Less than ripping off a bandaid hurt.
Kiryu falls silent for a long while. Majima stares at him from over his shoulder, waiting for an answer. Kiryu’s jaw clenches and unclenches. It must be hard, to think about his late love and considering an impossibility.
“Think you were meant ta be a family man, Kiryu-chan,” Majima encourages, “Not in the yakuza sense, but in the nuclear sense. A wife, kids… ya got half of it down at least.”
Kiryu’s eyes close. Majima feels a little bad for being mean. Only a little.
“Ya got a nice, quiet life in Okinawa, now—” he cups Kiryu’s cheek “—Ya think she could fit into yer life now?”
Kiryu’s eyelids flutter, so Majima stops. He doesn’t want to see Kiryu cry anything but tears of pleasure.
“…Yes,” Kiryu says honestly, after a long moment, quiet and emotional. A shuddering breath “—I would have asked her to marry me. Asked to raise Haruka with her. Asked to run Morning Glory with me.”
That’s all Majima needs to hear. It hurts more than ripping off a bandaid, Majima will admit, but he’s a big boy. He won’t break.
But Kiryu continues, looking Majima in the eye. He holds the hand on his cheek. “But she’s not here now. It’s just you. You’re alive, and you’re here. I don’t want that to change, even if it would bring her back.”
Majima thinks, for a second, that if he had his other eye, maybe he’d process this better. Whatever this is. Having only one eye is making him hear badly, so he doesn’t really get it. At least, he tells himself that he doesn’t get it. So instead of getting it, he swoops down for a kiss.
He’d wanted it to be wild and messy, like it usually is. Too much tongue, too much teeth, all Majima. But Kiryu’s palm on the back of his hand fucks him up, so he ends up kissing Kiryu gently. Like a prince waking a sleeping princess. The sickly sweetness of it all makes him cringe. Majima tries to make it deeper and faster—moving his hand to the back of Kiryu’s head and getting on top of Kiryu—but Kiryu keeps the pace slow. His arms wrap around Majima’s shoulders and the intimacy hits Majima like a sack of fish.
Majima pulls away, the wet smack of lips audible. He stares down at Kiryu with as blank a face as he can muster. “What was that. A confession or somethin’?”
Kiryu glances away. “Maybe.”
“Ya can’t want me. Yer a civilian. I’m what ya wanna be the least associated with.”
“I know,” Kiryu responds, “but even if I go — if we’re apart — you’ll still be here, right?”
“You expect me ta just wait around fer ya?”
“You always do.”
And Majima can’t say anything to that, because he always does. Always will. He’ll live and wait a thousand years if this man asks him to.
“I could die before ya.”
“You can’t die until you’ve killed me first. Your words.”
“So what, yer gonna stay alive until I kill ya?”
“I’ll try to.”
“What if I killed ya right here, right now?”
Kiryu just pulls him down for another gentle, domestic kiss. Majima concedes—Kiryu makes a good point.
“Nii-san,” Kiryu calls when they part.
“Hm?”
“I…”
Kiryu chews on the words. Majima knows what he wants to say. As much as saying he would have had a nice little family with his late lady love cracked Majima's heart, hearing him say those few words would really break him. He’d never said them to Makoto, never said them to Mirei, wouldn’t dare say it now to Kiryu. If Kiryu says it, though, he would be helpless to follow. They’d soften him, deconstruct the Mad Dog into a house dog, and he… he can’t afford that. Not right now, at least, when he’s doing something Kiryu asked him to do. He can’t pull Kiryu back, and Kiryu can’t bring him down. They know this.
“…I’ll kick your ass in the morning,” Kiryu says.
Majima lays back and holds Kiryu close. He kisses Kiryu’s shoulder. “Lookin’ forward to it, Kiryu-chan.”
Majima wants to say he dreams of dragons and princesses and all that fairytale bullshit, but he doesn’t. Instead, he has a dreamless sleep — a nightmare-less sleep — with Kiryu-chan in his arms.
Majima really loves—