snoozing_kitten (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
snoozing_kitten) wrote2011-08-01 10:46 pm
snoozing_kitten) wrote2011-08-01 10:46 pm
Entry tags:
Caught in the Crossfire Ohkura/Junno/Koyama
Title: Caught in the crossfire
Pairing/Group: Ohkura/Junno/Koyama
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10,100
Summary: When a person is born they are implanted with a Pacifist, the neural implant that inhibits violence. Koyama found a cure, and now everyone wants it. Ohkura and the Yakuza want it more then everyone else, but can he keep Koyama safe long enough to kick-start a new world order?
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
je_fqfest, thank you to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sanjihan for the listening to me whining, begging, and beta work she did on this.
It was supposed to end the violence, it was supposed to end the suffering. Well, it sort of worked.
Pacifist was an implant; it was attached to the aggression centers on a person’s brain at birth; impossible to tamper with after the initial few days, it inhibited violence through sheer force. If you tried too hard to ignore it your head would explode. Well not literally, but the neural centers would and it was about the same- mushy-headed mess of brain goop and left-over ganglia. It started in third world countries as a way of ending the violence, and you really needed to wonder if no one else saw the implications as it was happening. Cows had all the aggression bred out of them over time, and look what happened to them-- hamburger.
Slowly it spread across the globe, country by country falling until there was no more war, no more conflict.
There was nothing left. Impossible to tell what was sheep and what was human. Koyama thought it was a good idea; they taught him in school that it was the right thing to do, that people were safe now. Safety is relative.
Selected people, police, army, could have them turned off, the arm of the government with the hammer against a public that couldn’t do anything back. But they were safe, the people starving on the television screen; unable to revolt against the government that stole their money and built an empire off their backs seemed so far away. Koyama had believed that this was good, that this was just. That this was the way things were supposed to be.
Then it all exploded.
His brother-in-law was one of those radicals. Secret meetings in the cover of darkness, book clubs with forbidden texts, speaking about freedom. Koyama thought he was mental. They were free, he was free to get up, go do his research (Koyama was working on his PhD in molecular biology and neuroscience), to come home and eat his mothers cooking, to go out and see friends. He was free. Democracy was a thing of the past, but life wasn’t too bad; Koyama failed to see the problem.
It exploded- a burning car, two children left orphaned to be taken care of their grandmother, and two rebels taken care of. His sister hadn’t done anything; she was innocent in all of this.
Koyama began to wonder.
--
Getting the Pacifist removed was risky. Only about 20% of children survived it, and almost no adults did. Ohkura never did know how many other brothers and sisters he had originally had, only that he made it. There were some elite, very expensive doctors who could do the procedure.
The Yakuza owned just one such doctor.
Ohkura adjusted his hat, watching the city roll by outside of the window. It was a dreary kind of day, the clouds hung really low, pressing down on them and all the little people who ran around, trying to get all their errands done before the heavens opened up on their heads. The first few drops hit the windshield, then the window he was looking out of, streaking horizontal across his vista.
“Looks like it is going to be a bad one.” Junno hummed to himself from the front seat flicking on the wipers.
Ohkura hummed, he was more than used to tuning Junno out by now. Junno was the biggest spout of inane and useless stuff anyone could ever want to know. What is the difference between a crow and a raven? Ask Junno. He’s that kind of Wikipedia-shit kind of guy. Only more annoying; Ohkura liked Wikipedia, you could spend a whole day with that, Junno drove him mental on the best of days.
Every other day he just drove him around.
“Question.” Ohkura spoke, watching the water streak the window. It was really coming down now, waves and waves of water lashing across the sidewalk and some miserable people who didn’t get out of the way in time. “When they took that thing out of your head, they broke something didn’t they?”
Junno smirked at him in the rear view, pink lips against the pallor of his face. Ohkura sighed, watched the car hit a forming-puddle and sending a wave of freezing water over a poor kid walking by. If Junno noticed, he made no indication. They went around the block once, then once more in a bigger circle just to be sure. Ohkura didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He didn’t believe for a moment that they were the first ones there though.
“Leave it running, yeah?” He leaned forward, sliding his hands down Junno’s strong shoulder, meeting his eyes in the rear-view. “This could get hot.”
“Baby, I don’t know any other kind of night.” Ohkura rolled his eyes, pushing open the door and pulling his hat down further over his hair. He needed to run half a block towards the small squat office building. The basement was going to be the future, their future. Or he was going to find a massacre. At least he didn’t look weird jogging, hand holding his hat down in the hope that the rain wouldn’t utterly ruin his hair. The tails of his trench coat flapped against the backs of his knees, chasing him up the stone steps and into the alcove over hanging the door.
His wingtips were sloshing with water, and he sent a brief prayer for the leather, it was probably the least of his worries.
The door opened into a dim hallway. The top two floors were contract lawyers, shabby, easy to afford or charity cases. The bottom was Koyama’s office, he had an official lab at the university, but he had been funnelling the odd amount of cash into this secret little office. He was careful, meticulously so; all of the finances were set up to look like child support, keeping an illegitimate girlfriend secret from his family. It was brilliant really. That wasn’t illegal really, but what he really kept there would have him killed if anyone ever found out. Only people knew now, people like Ohkura and his family, and any other number of rebel factions, crime syndicates and if Koyama was really unlucky the private little army of the Prime Minister.
Nothing in the hallway moved and so Ohkura walked towards the stairs, moving like he had nowhere else important to be. His shoes squeaked with every step, and it was probably good that he wasn’t trying to be stealthy; soggy ninjas inspired no fear.
He was half-way down the dimly lit staircase when the shot rang out, clear and cutting in the otherwise stillness. Ohkura swore under his breath and jumped the last three stairs, landing with a slap of his soles, dashing down the last few steps. He could only pray that he wasn’t too late. He had wanted to do this the easy way, only that didn’t look like it was going to work anymore; the wet coat was a bit of problem, but he got his revolver out of the its shoulder-holster.
The door was halfway down the hall and he ran towards it. Ran right into someone coming out from the intersecting hallway; they had been running full pelt and the two of them crashed right into each other. The momentum carried them both over, hitting the marble floor in a jarring slam, arms and legs everywhere. Ohkura managed not to hit his head on the way down, but he did hit his elbow and his whole arm was numb down to the tips of his fingers with the sudden wash of pain.
Sprawled across the floor next to him looking dazed was the target, Koyama Keiichiro, struggling to sit up and gasping for breath.
Thundering footsteps down the hall, getting closer, and Koyama was trying to get to his feet, tangled with Ohkura’s long coat. “No no no.” He hissed, trying desperately to get away.
Ohkura barely got a look at the man that was chasing them, tall, buff, and most importantly, official badge shining from his chest with the same fatality of oncoming headlights. Then the gun he was pointing. Ohkura shot first. It was loud, so loud and Koyama let out a little less then manly shriek, flattening himself against the floor like that was going to help if people were shooting at him. The man stared, looking shocked for a moment, arms jerking towards his chest, and that wasn’t going to do much with a hole in his lung. No one ever fought back, they couldn’t; and that always worked to Ohkura’s advantage.
Ohkura pulled himself to his feet, and his elbow was going to bruise spectacularly he could feel the heat of it blooming already making his joint stiff, but he had found Koyama. Koyama who was staring at the body with huge eyes.
“You killed him. I--, how?”
“No time.” Ohkura rolled his shoulders, and Koyama was still sitting on the ground looking lost. They didn’t have time for this. If there was one agent there was probably another nearby. “We need to go now.”
“Wait wait.” Koyama pulled himself to his feet and it looked painful, grimace twisting his pretty face up. “Who are you?”
Ohkura sighed, always with the hard way. Why doesn’t anyone like the easy way. “Get your stuff, we are going.” He pointed the gun at his chest and Koyama stared at him confused. “Now.”
He was favouring his right foot as he scuttled down the hall, Ohkura following and watching the exits as best he could, they still had the element of surprise, but that never lasted too long. The inside of Koyama’s lab looked like something large had torn through it looking for something small. The floor was littered with papers and broken glass, twisted metal contraptions, rings and tongs peeking out from under and around the mess. One of his shelves had been completely over turned and the frosted glass of his door was shattered jaggedly.
“Just take what you need.” Ohkura said over his shoulder, eyes on the prize watching both ends of the hall for movement. Koyama stood in the middle of the destroyed lab staring at a bench covered in papers and a fall of pale yellow sticky-notes.
“I—yeah. Okay.” In the bottom drawer, under a false bottom was a leather-bound notebook, he grabbed that, and out of the top shelf he took a first aid kit.
“No time for that.” Ohkura hissed, if he wasn’t bleeding to death now, he would be soon.
“I hid it here.” He snapped back.
A little black case, impossible to tell what was inside, it looked like a glasses case, one of those huge ones for designer sunglasses. He clutched it tight, looking at Ohkura, pale but determined.
“That everything?”
“No, but it should be enough.” Koyama looked around again, the whole place was stuffed with notes, and racks of vials. “What is going to happen to this place?”
“They will probably burn the whole building to the ground. Let’s try not to be here when they do.”
Koyama followed him, limping his way up the stairs as fast as he could. Ohkura’s elbow throbbed. He would need to tell Junno that he elbowed the guy in the face before shooting him in the chest; that sounded so much cooler than he ran into Koyama and fell down.
It was still pissing rain outside, and Ohkura wished that he hadn’t made Junno park so far away. Koyama looked ready to bolt, well hobble away, so he grabbed him around the wrist and tugged him out into the rain after him. At some point his fedora had fallen off and the rain slicked his hair down, trickling down the back of his neck under his coat. Great. He made his way down the block to where they could see the car waiting, trying his best not to look conspicuous and probably failing.
Only Junno wasn’t in the car- it was empty and Ohkura hissed his displeasure under his breath. Did they notice him? What if they came and took him?
Koyama gasped, pressing up against the car, and Ohkura spun, reaching for his gun to find Junno standing there, rain slicking his little jacket to his body. “Where the fuck were you?” He snapped. “There is another agent out here somewhere.”
“Not anymore.” Junno grinned and Ohkura couldn’t help it, he smiled back a little.
“You’re supposed to be a driver, just drive.”
“Yes boss.” Junno had the most insolent way of saying it, but Ohkura couldn’t stop him.
His wet ass couldn’t be good for the leather Ohkura thought as he could feel it soaking through him and into the seat. Koyama was pressed up against the far door, watching him carefully. He had to be confused as hell, people coming out of every corner out to get him. Junno walked around the front of the car, looking for all the world like a regular chauffer again, short black coat and white gloves that were now slicked to his long fingers. The large town car roared to life, pulling smoothly out of its parking spot and down the street.
“You killed a man.” Koyama’s voice was strong, no longer terrified, or at least hiding it better.
“Yep.” Ohkura agreed.
“How is that possible? And how did they find me?”
“Well I got my bug taken out when I was a baby. As for you, you have something we all want don’t you?”
Koyama stared hard at the back of Junno’s head, jaw clenched.
“Who are you?” Koyama looked like a wet rat, rainwater slicking his black hair to his forehead.
Ohkura shrugged, his coat weighed a million pounds all wet so he pulled it off, then the jacket underneath leaving his relatively dry button-down and waistcoat. It gave him a few moments to think. “We’ll say I am a friend, they want to kill you, I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Boss.” Junno cut him off. “We’re being followed.”
“Someone wants you, real bad.” He said, reaching across the seat to shove Koyama down. “Can we lose them?”
“Is the sky blue?” Junno asked back.
“No, right now it’s grey.” He mumbled, and the car accelerated slightly, shifting over a lane. He turned right at the red light, and it gave them a little space between the small beater that was tailing them. Of course now they were going in the wrong direction. Junno accelerated to cut a yellow light narrowly.
Horns blared behind them as the car followed them through it, right before the back window exploded in glass and Ohkura swore loudly. “Hide.” He tossed his jacket at Koyama’s head and twisted in the seat to peek over the back. He rain was coming in through the hole where the glass used to be warm and wet, he narrowed his eyes against it. The passenger was leaning out the window. Really? He had a Tommy gun, and ratatatat, Ohkura ducked back down as the boot was riddled with shots.
“Well shit.” Junno said, and the car accelerated, pulling through the crowd with a roar of the engine.
He pulled a hard left and Ohkura slid across the seats crashing into Koyama again; there was glass everywhere and it was a miracle that it wasn’t shoved up his ass by now. Speeding and weaving through traffic, they were going to attract even more attention at this rate, horns blaring in their wake. Ohkura could only trust that Junno wasn’t going to wrap them around a light-post or something.
“Get in the front.” Ohkura shoved hard at Koyama’s shoulder.
He balanced on the back, knees splayed across the seats and leaning out of the rear window, and fired a shot at the windshield of the car following them. He missed, but they fell back a little giving them some time. Koyama was awkwardly trying to climb up in the passenger seat, sliding around as Junno swerved. He hit the brake and Koyama slithered right into the front with a painful sounding thump. In the precious few seconds where the other car had slammed on the brakes and were hydroplaning, swerving madly, the back end of their car swinging from side to side, Ohkura took a breath and lined up his next shot. It hit the glass high up. Tires squealed as the other car sailed past them, trying to avoid being shot back.
“Hang on!” Junno said even as he was pulling into a sharp turn that sent Ohkura skidding across the back.
Ohkura grabbed at the seats, trying to hold himself up as the car swung hard, pulling a u-turn probably too sharp for the size of the car. Then Junno was shooting away, going way too fast for this kind of weather, leaving the other car behind as it struggled to get under control again.
“You’re really pretty for a scientist; sure we got the right guy?”
“Eyes on the road.” Ohkura grumbled.
“Looks like we caught someone else’s attention.” Junno said back, and Ohkura heard the wail before he saw the sirens. Fucking great. And he was all wet.
Junno took the next corner hard, and this was the last time he ignored Junno when he told him to buckle up- his bruises had bruises. The city flew by, buildings giving way to rundown houses, flying into the bad end of town. The lights flashed behind them, falling behind, and disappearing sometimes but always back, chasing them down as Junno tried his best to lose them.
“We could bail. Hide out.” Junno said, and he actually sounded annoyed, he wasn’t used to being out-driven.
“Koyama hurt his foot when we were running before, not going to get far.” Ohkura sunk into his seat first wrapped in the seatbelt to hold him in place; the rain was letting up a little, still falling hard but not trying to drown them. “Okay, head towards the factory district, get far enough ahead that you can drop us off, then lead them away.”
“Yes sir.”
At one point Junno slid across an intersection, pulling the huge car sideways at an impossible angle before tearing off straight as the police cars flew by in the totally wrong way. Ohkura didn’t even know such a heavy car could pull stuff like that.
The factory district was full of huge old hulking buildings that stood silent watch over the dark alleys, abandoned in the last depression. The engine roar followed them through the tight alley-ways. He clipped a stop-sign, the screech of metal-on-metal loud in the absence of other sounds. They stopped really suddenly, Ohkura sliding forward on his seat barely catching himself before he landed in the wheel well.
“Let’s go.” The alleyway was narrow, just enough space for him to slip out the open door. He pulled Koyama the rest of the way out of the car, pulling them towards a small entryway hidden in the shadows. The rain was still coming down in a steady stream and what he had managed to keep dry was quickly wet. Gross.
Ohkura used his body to press Koyama into the furthest corner of the entry way, Junno and the car tore down the alleyway, fishtailing at an intersection before taking off left.
“Will he be okay?” Koyama’s breath was hot against the side of his face, skin chilled by the rain. They didn’t move. The sirens were closing in, echoing everywhere and making it too hard to pinpoint them exactly.
“Yeah.” Because Junno was the best driver he had ever seen, and he was going to be okay or Ohkura was going to kick his skinny ass. “Hush now.” Ohkura pressed closer into Koyama’s chest, squishing them both into the shadowy corner. Tense moments, Koyama’s pulse thundering against his chest, and one, two, three police cars whizzed by, screaming down the alleyway after Junno.
“Keep moving.”
The doorway they were in was padlocked, so sticking close to the side of the building they searched for another way in. There was an old dumpster pushed up against the wall, all but closing off the alley, the top was high enough that maybe they could get in the window there. It wasn’t easy to get Koyama up there, he couldn’t put too much weight on his ankle, but eventually he was sitting on top of it while Ohkura heaved himself up.
Now not only were his clothes wet and gross, now there were trash-cooties all over him too.
The window was locked, but the lock wasn’t as hard to break at the one of the door, and offered very little protection against Ohkura’s desperation to get somewhere dry. The drop down was pretty bad, too high up and nothing to land on. He couldn’t risk leaving Koyama out here alone so he would need to go first, and landing on his foot wasn’t going to be easy.
“Sorry.” He muttered, more or less shoving Koyama through after he boosted him up. This part of town was still, like a crypt, where the dreams of economic glory lie entombed. He looked down both ways of the narrow strip of pitted tarmac, nothing at either mouth moved so he scrambled less then gracefully up and over.
Koyama was sitting leaning against the wall, soaked and looking to be in quite a bit of pain.
Well they were dry, and for the time being safe –so that was something. Ohkura slicked his hair back, running his hands through it. It held, all thick and heavy and wet.
There was a tear in his shirt, cuts all over his hands and arms from the glass in the back and the scramble around the dumpster.
“This is the worst rescue ever.” Koyama said. He hadn’t moved from his position against the wall. His hair was everywhere, clothes stuck to him highlighting how skinny he was.
“I never said anything about rescue. I was kidnapping you.”
“Well then, this is the worst kidnapping ever.”
“What are you kidnapped regularly?” Ohkura drawled, Koyama gave him a filthy look, and okay fine, touchy. “I’m going to look around, don’t... uh, go anywhere.”
Koyama glared at him as he walked away. The warehouse they had broken into was cold and dark inside. The giant shapes of shipping crates rose out of the gloom, long abandoned. Once Junno got back they would lie low here for a bit, until some of the heat eased off, then steal a car and get the fuck out of Dodge. A bath and his bed, hand Koyama over to his grandfather to decide what they were going to do with him. If Koyama’s little experiment worked. Well, the implications were so big he couldn’t even fully comprehend them.
There was nothing to see, just more emptiness, he scouted out into the darkness for all the good that did. It was impossible to tell how long he had been gone, but Koyama was still sitting there when he got back, alone under the puddle of pale light that shone through the opened window.
“Is that you? Mr. Kidnapper.”
“Were you expecting someone else?” He slid down the wall until they were sitting next to each other.
“Not really, but it’s been a weird sort of day.” His breath hitched at the end there, and sitting down it was really quite cold on the hard floor. His jacket was gone, and Koyama had never been wearing more than his button-down and slacks to begin with.
“What did you expect when you announced what you found, honestly?” He listened to the chatter of Koyama’s teeth.
“I thought I was being discreet.”
“Revolution is never discreet.”
When Junno came back, (far too much later, Ohkura was mad that he had made him worry, that bitch), he found Koyama on the floor curled around his messenger bag and Ohkura curled right up behind him, clinging to him for warmth.
Junno was soaked and exhausted looking, drooping in places that usually were quite perky.
“You’re back.” Ohkura noted, and Junno shrugged. “What took you so long?”
“They are searching the area, it wasn’t easy.”
No, but Junno made that kind of thing look easy. It was one of the reasons that Ohkura hated him so much. Clown may have been an idiot, but he was good, very good, made them expect more from Ohkura, and he didn’t like needing to do more then was required of him.
“No one followed you?”
“Nope.” Junno sat down, and it was going to fall dark soon, their light was failing fast, the rain was still drizzling outside, Ohkura could hear it on the roof, amid the random other drips and drops of leaks here and there. “Is he okay?” Junno tilted his chin at Koyama whom was fast asleep.
“Great.”
“Your grandfather is going to be worried.”
Ohkura wasn’t thinking about that. He had a mission, get Koyama, bring him and his research back. He had Koyama, it was only the bringing him back part that was going to be a problem. They wouldn’t move tonight, it was too risky to bring in another car and Koyama wasn’t running anywhere fast. He wasn’t supposed to break the scientist any more then necessary to get him to comply. Koyama was proving to be quite easy, most pacified people were. What other choice did they have?
Ohkura had grown up around violence; every member of the family was un-collared. The news called them that, like rabid dogs, they could attack at any time, un-collared (they avoided using the words unleashed that sounded too positive). When they were kids they used to flight, oh how they would fight, during summer vacations there would be black eyes and broken fingers and whatever damage they could inflict on each other for only the glorious reason of they were young and dumb and they could.
“You couldn’t hide in a blanket warehouse?” Junno griped.
“Get your skinny ass down here.”
“Pot, kettle. Or underfed waifish spatula, you know, huge head, skinny little body.”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Ohkura would have punched him in the face, but he was so gloriously warm along his back that he couldn’t be bothered to move.
At some point in the night, after his hip and shoulder had fallen asleep and he lost feeling in his toes, but before he woke up slowly and painfully needing to take a piss, Koyama had rolled over, so that he was pressing his face against the leather of Ohkura’s gun holster. Junno’s octopus arms and legs were all over him from behind, one of his long arms going as far as to curl around Koyama’s hip right over him. Well, at least Ohkura was warm now.
They were all tangled together like puppies and Ohkura seriously wished that more of his days would include waking up all squished between two gorgeous men. Of course, in an ideal world it would be in a king sized beg and not on the hard ground. And they would be cuddling with him because they wanted his dick and not because it was colder than a witch’s tit in here.
Well he had kind of always assumed Junno wanted his dick. But that was because Junno was a little fey, and Ohkura had a nice dick. Koyama was a little more surprising, he didn’t fit the archetypal lab geek at all. He was all slim and sleek and beautiful, legs as far as the eye could see. He’d probably make good money dancing on a stage if he wasn’t such a brilliant biochemist.
His hair had dried in tufts that stood up oddly, and his back was pointy and pressed up between them, protected.
“Okay?” Junno rumbled against his hair. And his voice rumbled through his chest where they were pressed so close together he couldn’t be sure which heartbeat was his own.
“Need to piss.” He said, and his voice came out all rough with morning.
His whole body was stiff and sore, deep ache centered in his elbow lesser aches in his hips and shoulders. Ohkura hobbled away from them, curled up like puppies on the floor. They didn’t look cute, not in the least, Junno sliding over so he was pressed closer to Koyama’s back and the warmed spot Ohkura left.
They should get out of here today. The further from the windows he got the darker it was and he kept bumping into things. He shuffled slower, wingtips scraping across the cement. His heels felt blistered, his shoes were not meant for running in the rain, they were meant to match the jacket he lost.
When Ohkura figured he was far enough away he chose a corner and just pissed there. It wasn’t worth it to stumble around in the dark looking for a proper toilet. Zipping up he took a moment to lament the lack of a brush and a mirror. He must look a mess, letting his hair drip dry, all the product reduced to a greasy mass on his scalp.
“What’s the plan boss?” Junno met him, standing just on the edge of where they camped, stretching out his stupid endless arms. “We’re going to need to get him back. If you don’t turn up soon--”
“I know.” Ohkura sighed, what a pain. “I’ll go scout around, you watch our guest.”
“I can go.”
“You went yesterday.” Ohkura said with a smooth shrug. He wanted to tell Junno not to be stupid, but that hadn’t worked the hundreds of times he had said it before and the chances were it wasn’t going to work this time either. He couldn’t be bothered.
“Okay, just.” Junno reached out and Ohkura didn’t move fast enough to avoid the other man’s friendly hug, loose arms like wet spaghetti. “Be careful.”
Of course that’s when he noticed Koyama watching him, it was too dark to see what kind of face he was making but he was sprawled across the floor, eyes catching the light in the darkness. He couldn’t help even ruffled and dirty, that Koyama was kind of unreasonably attractive. Life wasn’t like a movie and the damsel in distress was never actually smoking hot, Ohkura wondered at what point he had checked out of normal life and into some cheesy action movie.
“Off me, Dr. Octopus.” Ohkura grumbled and Junno huffed a laugh way too close to his ear for comfort. “Or I will Spiderman all over your shit.”
“Kinky.” Junno laughed, but he was letting go, moving back over to crouch near Koyama. “I’m on prisoner watch, are you feeling better.”
“Peachy.” Koyama said. “Better if you would bring me back coffee.”
Ohkura snorted, pushy kidnapee.
He left Junno and Koyama sitting up against the cement wall looking at the swelling on his ankle.
Everything was still a little damp from yesterday’s rain and the sun hadn’t seared away the morning mist yet giving the world a hazy blurred around the edges kind of effect. His shoes were really beginning to bug him, slapping against the asphalt with a small hush sound and tight in places they weren’t before, rubbing against his baby toe. He should have just made Junno go; it wasn’t like Junno would complain, he’d just smile and do as he was told. Idiot boy.
There were a few years in his past where Junno hadn’t been around. After he turned ten and they stopped beating the shit out of each other for fun. Until he was nineteen, and Junno came back suddenly taller and a lot more blond, filling in his stupid nose and feet that had always seemed too big for him when he was a kid. Ohkura mused as he walked. Thinking about the shapes of his past in the mist, and about the future he could build now. Koyama was a key, or maybe he was the lock. Either way they needed him.
He wasn’t wearing a watch and it could have been ten minutes or an hour. It was hard to tell when all the buildings looked the same and there wasn’t a single car around to hotwire. Eventually when the warehouses got smaller and smoothed into a rundown train yard with tiny block houses on the other side.
“You car is mine.” He had the gun out and pointed at the man, older with hair only around the edges of his scalp.
“Stop joking punk.” He said, giving Ohkura a foul look. He was used to this part. It was so easy it was boring—there was nothing this guy could even do to stop him. Ohkura cracked him across the face with the butt of the gun, it would bruise pretty but it wasn’t enough to drop him completely. His shocked expression was one of many in Ohkura’s little book of ‘people freaking right the fuck out’.
“Keys.” The gun was steady- he was hungry and cranky and not above shooting this guy right in the face for a cup of coffee.
He dropped the keys then dropped to his ass right there in the driveway holding his bleeding mouth with hands that shook. To his credit he didn’t faint. Sighing heavily Ohkura stooped to pick up the keys and unlocked the car. It was a small little beater, but it would do. The door slammed too hard and the engine rattled, but he threw it in reverse and drove away.
Ohkura only got lost twice trying to find the right warehouse, and stalled the engine no less than four times (he wasn’t the driver, he sat in the back and told people where to go). It wasn’t his fault they all looked the same, just all in a row, endless walls of corrugated steel. Eventually he pulled up to one next to a familiar dumpster. Well at least this one looked familiar, like the last two and the window above it was broken. The clutch whined, but everything was parked and off.
It was with the thought of a huge breakfast and a hot shower that he scaled the dumpster and hauled himself through the wall and promptly dropped into a whole lot of gloomy nothingness. Koyama and Junno where nowhere to be found. There were some suspiciously wet stains where they had been, shadowy and dark smudges. Panic shot through him, sudden and cold.
He was about to call out when a shouts broke out somewhere towards his right. “There, shit, he’s running, get him,” the shout finished too quiet to hear. Heart pumping suddenly fast he took off down towards his right hoping his eyes would adjust enough that he wasn’t going to land in a heap on the floor again. It had worked out last time, but he wouldn’t bet money on his luck holding.
It was pretty dark in the heart of the warehouse and he could only hope that it would give Junno and Koyama enough cover to hide. He actually almost ran right out in front of someone, skidding to a stop in the last moment when he heard something slam hard against the metal.
“If you come out now I won’t shoot you in the fucking foot.” Someone snarled and there was another slam, the sound of it echoing loudly. Ohkura peered around the box he was pressed against. He unhooked his gun from the holster sliding it against his palm comfortingly.
There was a man, slick to the nine’s white suit the only thing that made him visible in the gloom.
“How about I cut off your toes-- can’t run then. Come on little scientist, your friend is dead by now; if the police get you they won’t be so nice.”
Ohkura grit his teeth. Fuckers were trying to kidnap what he had already kidnapped. There was no way they killed Junno, he could take care of himself. He just needed to hold on a little longer. Something made a muffled thump, too close.
“Found you.”
“No!” Ohkura shouted and lunged out of hiding, they couldn’t get Koyama. The shot went off and Ohkura was still stumbling forwards waiting for the pain to hit. Nothing, the white shadow crumpled backwards hands scrabbling at his throat and bleeding in aortal arcs all over the place.
“What?”
Out of one of the thickest shadows painting the area between two blocks, Koyama emerged clinging to the edge of the packing crate, face pale and luminous in the darkness and smudged with blood. He was holding Junno’s revolver in a hand that shook so badly he was barely even pointing it at the body on the ground anymore.
“I-“ The gun hit the ground with a bang and Koyama was sliding down the side of the wall unable to take his eyes off the body. Picking his way over the corpse, he crouched down in front of Koyama, taking his face in his palms when snapping didn’t seem to be working.
“Are you okay?” Koyama blinked at him, and his whole body seemed to shake for a moment and now was not the time to be falling apart.
“I’m okay.” Koyama said, staring up at Ohkura.
“Good.” He used his thumb to rub at one of the blood smudges on his cheek without even realizing he was doing it. “What happened?”
“They found us somehow. Junno, he’s hurt you need to go find him.” Koyama’s fingers were wrapped tight around his lapels, frowning hard.
“He’s a big boy.” Ohkura just had to believe that.
“I took the drug. I’ve never tested it on humans before.” A nervous little trill of laughter just on the right side of hysterical, “I guess it works.”
“You’re telling me I went through all this trouble to kidnap you for a cure that wasn’t tested?”
“I’ve been having trouble getting it through the FDA.” Koyama joked, his smile was weak, but it brought back a little colour to his face and he didn’t seem so close to the edge of some sort of breakdown.
“Okay, I’m going to need you to go over there and hide. I’ll go get Junno then we can blow this popsicle stand.” He picked up the gun, and replacing it for his own, Junno was going to be missing it. “Just, stay hidden.”
Koyama clung to his arm to lever himself up without putting too much weight on his foot, and hobbled over to another shadowy corner, melting into it with a tired sounding sigh.
If Junno wasn’t okay Ohkura was going to punch him right in the smug face. As soon as he found him.
“Son of a bitch.” Was the first thing Ohkura heard, faint, too far away. The echoes made it hard to find, but he was running towards the sound of voices, and the unmistakeable sound of two people tussling.
They had managed to find a puddle of light from a dirty window on the roof and Junno was pinned under a rather butch looking fellow. He had fists like Christmas hams, all intent to bash Junno’s face in. Which was Ohkura’s job. He took aim, ready to fire when Junno arched, grabbing his attacker’s shoulder as he wrapped one leg behind his knee and they rolled. Impossible to tell what was going on with limbs were flailing everywhere in the gloom but Junno came out on top, sitting on the man’s chest, knee pinning one of his huge arms to the cement.
Junno was completely silent when he grabbed the man’s head and hit it hard against the cement. He was out like a light, breathing shallow, but no longer a threat. Ohkura whistled, and Junno was grinning through a split lip when he looked up, blood spilling all down the front of his grey button-down. The smile looked painful, Ohkura kind of wanted to kiss it, to taste the copper that hung in the air.
“You’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay.” His knuckles were all scraped up, and there was a graze on his shoulder where his shirt stuck to his skin with a dark looking stain.
“Was there only the two of them?”
“Yeah, the two from the car yesterday.” Junno climbed off the comatose guy, being none to gentle where he put his feet and knees. He ran a hand through his ruined hair, it was falling across his face in a platinum fall, all downy soft without the grease he usually slicked it back with. “Koyama?”
“Safe.” Ohkura shrugged and Junno nodded at him looking relieved.
“Can we go home now?”
“You’re the driver.” Ohkura smiled at him fondly, “I can’t work a clutch worth shit.”
“Let’s go get the lab mouse, and blow this popsicle stand.”
“Who even says that, you’re so lame.”
Junno just grinned like he knew Ohkura had said the exact same thing earlier.
~~
Junno had bruised ribs and his face was a mess of bruises when they finally limped into the head house supporting Koyama’s weight between the two of them.
It had been two weeks since then, and Junno’s bruises were just yellow smudges on his skin, barely there except for in the right light. Ohkura and him spent their time recovering (his elbow still twinged, but he was used to the scars—there was something to be said about the sociologist and the over-violent sub-culture from organized crime. Him and Junno pulled some crazy-ass shit.
He knew Koyama was somewhere still in the house, but he didn’t emerge from his room, papers spread everywhere. Ohkura had peeked in on him once (or twice, or more but he wasn’t feeling in the mood to count), watched him bob to the music coming softly from his laptop as he read or wrote out pages of notes.
Ohkura wore loose sweats and a tight wife-beater, bouncing on the soles of his trainers. He could go for a run yes, but he would rather spar with Junno. Or maybe he could teach Koyama to fight; the other man didn’t seem to know what to do with his new found abilities.
He just sort of assumed that Junno would be out in the courtyard where the ring was set up, sunlight dappling through the tresses that disguised it as a rooftop garden. He was right; Junno was sitting on the roof, but he wasn’t going through his katas he was on the bench, playing with a strand of Koyama’s hair, twisting it between callused fingers. It looked like a peaceful moment, Koyama lying across the length of the bench with his head in Junno’s lap, both of them murmuring quietly together. Ohkura hadn’t been noticed yet; Junno leaned over, grinning stupidly as he tickled the end of Koyama’s nose with his own hair.
Ohkura wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the twisting feeling in his stomach. If Junno was going to shag their newest pet, he should have at least told Ohkura, not only was Ohkura the boss, but he’d thought they were closer than that. Well, he wouldn’t say it, but he’d kind of assumed that’s what Junno’s smiles and tentacle-hugs meant.
“Hey.” Koyama’s arm waved, looking lazy and content.
“What’s shaking?” He waved back feeling awkward.
“Taking a break, I think I am close to a breakthrough on remaking the original compound, just I can’t isolate it from my own blood anyways, and without my own brain tissue I need to try and synthesize it from scratch.”
“You just need to use your head.” Junno tugged playfully on his hair and Koyama swatted at him, mock scowling.
“I’m going to go for a jog.” Ohkura said, beating a tactical retreat. He wasn’t sure what to do with something he couldn’t hit.
Ohkura wandered around after his shower harassing the cook, and generally making himself a pest. Tonight he was going to go cruising, he would find himself some pretty young thing all tiny and delicate and he would thrill them by getting rough because he could. They always got off on his dick like that, gasping all hot and wet like they had never had anything quite like him.
“You know he loves you right?”
“What?” Ohkura wouldn’t admit under pain of death that Koyama had just scared him, sneaking up where he was lounging in the library reading. “Who?”
“Junno.” Koyama sat up on the edge of couch he was doing his best to sprawl across. Ohkura looked at him, up and upside down, frowning, well an upside down frown is just a smile right?
“No he doesn’t.” That was silly. That didn’t make sense at all, Junno was a big boy with fists and feet, and he fought and drove but he didn’t love. He did whatever Ohkura told him because that was his job.
“He told me. Said, that you can do it, that you can hurt people if you have a reason to do so, if you need to.” He looked caught somewhere between sad and determined. It was a curious expression, made him kind of look constipated when he was upside down.
Koyama had been raised pacified, he was one of the sheep. Ohkura never thought about it, he just did, your first was only an extension of your arm after all. It had never bothered him. He was born this way. He didn’t need a reason; a new world order was enough wasn’t it? Fight to survive-- that was human nature. Well it was supposed to be.
“I can’t imagine him making some sappy love declaration.”
“He didn’t need to; I had a sister you know. She was good at this kind of thing.”
“Was that—?“
“Yeah, why I developed the drug. I couldn’t take it anymore, all the death and misery. That is why I’ll.”
Ohkura wasn’t sure what it was; maybe something in the way Koyama was looking at him (like he was something difficult, pursed lips and a tiny frown between his eyebrows), but he was leaning up on his elbows. Koyama leaned down, bracing himself on the couch and the kiss was awkward, both of them straining to meet properly, but it sent a little thrill of adrenaline through him, bright and warm and pulsing alive.
That was how Junno found them, Ohkura lazily sprawled back on the couch, Koyama straddling his lap, fingers in Ohkura’s hair and kissing wet and messy and unhurried. He had his hands on Koyama’s hips, letting just the tips of his fingers slip under his untucked shirt, keeping his touch gentle.
“I thought you said you wanted to talk to him.” Junno said, and he was filling in the doorway, all long lines and smooth angles of his sharp suit, watching them.
“We’re talking.” Ohkura said voice rough and breathless. You could steal a man’s breath with kisses or a jab to the solar plexus. “I’m using my tongue, aren’t I?”
“Oh yeah.” Koyama laughed, twisting to look at Junno over his shoulder. “I told him you love him. He doesn’t believe me.”
“You what?.” Junno hissed, Ohkura got the rare opportunity to see Junno looking confused, mouth working and just staring at them like Koyama suddenly grew two dicks or something (still only had one from what Ohkura could feel). The expression smoothed out quickly, sly, smirky sort of grin in its place. Long legs needed only a few steps to carry him across to where they were, both of them watching him, waiting for the potential energy in the room to flare into something. If Junno hit him, Ohkura was at a disadvantage seeing as Koyama was sitting on him, but Junno wasn’t the kind of guy to abuse an advantage.
“Junno.” Ohkura began, really unsure what words were supposed to go after that.
“I’m not,” Junno was leaning over the back of the lounge, pressing his cheek against Ohkura’s at a weird angle, and tipping his head so the next words were whispered into his mouth. “Ever going to admit that I love you. Because I don’t.”
“Liar. Filthy lair.” Was whispered soft and reverent against the column of his neck, Koyama ducking low to press his lips against his pulse point so Ohkura could feel the sear of the words.
Ohkura didn’t get his two cents in on the conversation because his lips were touching Junno’s soft and full, like kissing a girl, an upsidedown girl. You’d think between the two of them, one of them would have got the first kiss right-way up.
“Good.” Ohkura breathed, smiling slow and lazy against Junno’s cheek. “It would be weird if you did.”
“Idiots.” Koyama muttered, but he was lifting himself up on his knees, pressing both hands to Ohkura’s chest to lean over him, stealing Junno’s mouth. They had him squished in the middle, the soft wet sounds of kissing like surround-sound porno in his ear. Koyama’s ass fit in his palm, the sharp little curve of bone, barely anything to dig his fingers into.
Act now, think later. The world could change at any moment.
Koyama groaned, low, the sound vibrating out from his chest and all around them, spine dipping and twisting in a move no scientist had the right to know, like a stripper, pushing his ass against his hands and his half-hard dick against his stomach.
“Can’t do this here.” Junno said.
“It’s my house, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
Koyama laughed, rolling his hips smoothly again. “Well what do you want?”
“He’s spoiled enough.” Junno laughed at pretty much the same time he answered ‘Blow me’.
“Shut up, Junno.” Ohkura laughed, swatting at his shoulder affectionately, Koyama was grinning at them still easily entranced by the easy contact between them. People grew isolated when told again and again that even the slightest of touches could escalate into domestic abuse over time. Then you would get your brain fried.
“Make me.”
Ohkura did. Junno couldn’t talk when he had his tongue busy; Koyama took the suggestion to blow him quiet seriously, slithering to the floor with more grace then you would expect from a scientist. The curve of his skull fit perfectly into the cradle of his left hand, rubbing his thumb across the thin hot skin behind his ear. His other hand was lost somewhere in the short sensitive hairs at Junno’s nape, using it as an anchor to keep Junno right where he wanted him.
Junno’s mouth was surprisingly soft, lush lines and the hidden sharpness of his teeth. Junno had his hands on Ohkura’s hips, keeping the instinctive twitch under control so he wouldn’t choke Koyama. They were tangled all together, Koyama kneeling between their legs, fingers of one hand curled behind Junno’s knee (Junno’s pants were partially under the bed, and Ohkura honestly couldn’t tell you how they got there, he had been exploring the curve of Koyama’s arm and the soft little bits of skin on the inside of his arms. It was distracting.)
“Fuck.” The word was long and drawled, muffled against Junno’s lips. Koyama’s nails scraped across the back of his thighs in agreement, or something, something that really didn’t matter because the head of his dick was snug against the back of Koyama’s throat. Tight heat and he could feel Koyama trying not to choke, trembling against his fingers. Koyama pulled back a fraction, letting his lips and tongue drag slowly. He continued, all the way down to the end, filthy wet sound.
Ohkura pressed his face against Junno’s neck, breathing hard the faintly salty and chemical taste there.
“Come here.” Koyama’s voice was raspy, raw sounding.
Ohkura had to watch it, Koyama’s dark head, tilting, swaying forward like he was hungry for it. Lips already sore-looking and puffy, licking delicately the slick looking head.
“Koyama.” Junno growled, and that tone of voice usually was associated with Junno about to attack, Ohkura was a little amused, and a lot turned on to hear it in this context.
Ohkura almost groaned in time with Junno as his mouth just opened and took him deep. Junno’s fingers bumped his not quite tangling, but resting over his on Koyama’s head. Both of them holding him steady.
He would have never imagined that sex with Junno would be like this, when he did think about it there was usually more biting, hair pulling and stupid jokes. Junno was gasping wetly against his lips, messy kisses devolving into just breathing hard against each other’s mouths. Ohkura could feel Koyama’s hair brushing his thighs with each bob of his head.
The only sad thing about this was he couldn’t watch, not while kissing Junno.
He tasted it when Junno came, Junno bit his bottom lip hard, right before he leaned back, shuddering all over. He was beautiful, face flushed and shattered by his orgasm.
Koyama’s fingers were digging hard into his thigh, a moment before he started coughing. Ohkura was sure that Koyama was getting come and spit all over his shin, face flushing bright red. Junno giggled, sounding dazed, while Ohkura pet Koyama’s hair, breath stuttering oddly in his chest too as Koyama fought to get his breathing under control. It was insane; he had never been so turned on watching someone else get a blow job before.
“Sorry.” Koyama mumbled, leaning against Junno’s knee.
“It’s good.” Junno rumbled.
It took both of them to haul Koyama up onto unsteady legs. He leaned hard on Ohkura, clinging to his shoulders. His mouth was just a perfect pink, and he couldn’t help but lean in for a taste. Semen and the blood from where Junno bit him should have honestly been a horrible taste. Only Koyama was kissing him like he was starving for it, tongue pressing demandingly into his mouth, and it was flawless. Neither of them was wearing pants, but Ohkura hadn’t managed to lose his undershirt, white ribbed cotton, warm against his chest, stopping him from rubbing up against Koyama completely.
“Here.”
Junno was pressed up against the length of Koyama’s back shoving him against Ohkura, thin chest against his own, surprisingly wide shoulders, and a narrow waist. Koyama wrapped his arms around his neck, leaning back to rest more of his weight on Junno’s chest. Some shifting, trying to get the perfect position, and his hands found Junno’s ass, digging his nails in a little just because he could, because that was how they were. Then Junno’s clever little hands wormed between them tickling across the sharp points of his hips and it was perfect.
Junno’s hands and the almost painful jut of the cradle of Koyama’s hips, all pressing together, but mixed with a little saliva and just the barest hint of sweat and the friction was singing on just the right side of too much.
“Oh.” Koyama gasped softly. Oh, right, they were pressed up together, locked together like puzzle pieces, Junno’s long-fingered hand curling around him and the heat of Koyama’s cock. Slip-sliding, Koyama wiggling trapped between them; Ohkura rolled his hips pressing him back against Junno. He hadn’t gotten off this way since he was younger and he just rubbing up against things the right way made him hard.
But it was building, huge and right there, like speeding right into a brick wall. Tight in his stomach, and Koyama was making these low little groaning sounds, and Junno was watching him, small smile tugging at his cheeks making his stomach clench hotly. Ohkura came, moaning low and obviously against Koyama’s shoulder shoving him hard against Junno as he came all slick and warm between them. He was panting and resting his weight on Koyama's shoulder listening to the mad thump of Koyama’s heart.
“Junno, please.” Koyama groaned, and this close, Ohkura could feel the vibrations of his words with his fingers. “Just—“
Ohkura leaned back a little, so that his hands slid down the impossible length of him to rest on Koyama’s hips, thumbing the little dips there. Koyama’s stomach and Junno’s hands were a wet mess his mess. Sliding hands, Junno’s hands, chin hooked over Koyama’s shoulder so he could watch the drag of his finger tips across Koyama’s flat stomach down to where Ohkura’s hands were holding him, framing the obscene jut of his dick.
“Do it.” Ohkura rasped.
“Yes, boss.”
Koyama whined, hands fluttering across Ohkura’s shoulders aimlessly when Junno wrapped his slick hand around his dick and started to jerk him. Junno set a quick pace, both of them watching Koyama fall to pieces.
It didn’t take too much, when Ohkura pinched one of his nipples between his nails, it had to hurt, Koyama shivered all over and came hard.
They were a tangled mess, Ohkura had ruined another shirt, but he was feeling lazy and full of blissed-out feelings, and couldn’t care less. Junno’s arms and Koyama’s legs were everywhere at once, like creeping ivy. It would just take too much work to get out their grasp. Ohkura couldn’t be bothered to try.
“I never said thanks for kidnapping me.” Koyama mumbled against his shoulder.
“Junno, shut him up.”
“Yes, boss.” Junno laughed.
--
Changing the world wasn’t easy business.
His drug wasn’t perfect, but then again birth control wasn’t perfect either and look how many people used that. Koyama tinkered with the compound, working and reworking standard effectiveness curves.
It was done as it was ever going to be. He was scared, he was fucking terrified. What if the world really was like they said, full of rape and murder before. People turning on each other like vicious animals. Would that really be so much different? Only they would be able to fight back.
Junno feinted left and Koyama fell for it, lunging for the small opening when his guard was down. Only Junno moved left instead and the jab to his solar plexus took Koyama’s breath away, making him stumble back, fighting to keep his arms up as he fought to breathe properly. It was a huge opening and Junno pressed it, hitting Koyama low around the waist, and they were both going down. Koyama landed on his back, twisting and scrambling to try and pin one of Junno’s limbs, but he wasn’t any match for the other man and soon he was pinned on his back, Junno sitting on his chest and smiling at him, smug.
“Give up, and I may go easy on you.”
“He’s lying.” Ohkura called, completely not helpful from the sides where he was watching them spar.
Koyama sat up gingerly, once Junno crawled off of him, brushing some of the dirt off. Junno got to his feet first, rolling out his shoulder like Koyama had ever posed a threat to him (which they both knew was a laughable thought).
“You wanna go?” Junno cocked his hips at the same angle as his eyebrow and Ohkura seemed to think about it for a bit before shrugging and stepping into the improvised circle. It was the heat of summer now and the sun shone through the leafy roof, dappling them both in shadow and spots of light. Junno and Ohkura wasting little time in circling each other, going in for the kill.
They were fast and deadly, barely pulling their punches at the last second. Later, sweaty and sore, Koyama would worm his way between them and that was a different kind of sparring, more teeth and fewer knees, but for now he was content to watch. He would never get tired of this, the soft grunt Junno made when Ohkura landed a particularly vicious hit.
Junno flipped Ohkura over his shoulder and he slammed into the ground hard, and something about it still took Koyama’s breath away. They twisted on the ground, Ohkura’s legs wrapped around Junno’s torso, trying to flip him into an arm bar. Koyama came to a decision watching them grapple on the floor, caught somewhere between actually fighting and foreplay. All the times Ohkura went out on family business with nothing but his gun and Junno, and Koyama worried himself sick.
Ohkura ended up on top, but it was impossible to tell which one of them won really.
“Hey.” Both of them turned to look at him, faces flushed and hair all over the place, twin looks of hunger. “It’s ...done.”
Their smiles were all the comfort he needed. Pacifist was supposed to make the world a better place and it failed, so Koyama was going to fix it.
Pairing/Group: Ohkura/Junno/Koyama
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 10,100
Summary: When a person is born they are implanted with a Pacifist, the neural implant that inhibits violence. Koyama found a cure, and now everyone wants it. Ohkura and the Yakuza want it more then everyone else, but can he keep Koyama safe long enough to kick-start a new world order?
Notes: Written for
je_fqfest, thank you to sanjihan for the listening to me whining, begging, and beta work she did on this. It was supposed to end the violence, it was supposed to end the suffering. Well, it sort of worked.
Pacifist was an implant; it was attached to the aggression centers on a person’s brain at birth; impossible to tamper with after the initial few days, it inhibited violence through sheer force. If you tried too hard to ignore it your head would explode. Well not literally, but the neural centers would and it was about the same- mushy-headed mess of brain goop and left-over ganglia. It started in third world countries as a way of ending the violence, and you really needed to wonder if no one else saw the implications as it was happening. Cows had all the aggression bred out of them over time, and look what happened to them-- hamburger.
Slowly it spread across the globe, country by country falling until there was no more war, no more conflict.
There was nothing left. Impossible to tell what was sheep and what was human. Koyama thought it was a good idea; they taught him in school that it was the right thing to do, that people were safe now. Safety is relative.
Selected people, police, army, could have them turned off, the arm of the government with the hammer against a public that couldn’t do anything back. But they were safe, the people starving on the television screen; unable to revolt against the government that stole their money and built an empire off their backs seemed so far away. Koyama had believed that this was good, that this was just. That this was the way things were supposed to be.
Then it all exploded.
His brother-in-law was one of those radicals. Secret meetings in the cover of darkness, book clubs with forbidden texts, speaking about freedom. Koyama thought he was mental. They were free, he was free to get up, go do his research (Koyama was working on his PhD in molecular biology and neuroscience), to come home and eat his mothers cooking, to go out and see friends. He was free. Democracy was a thing of the past, but life wasn’t too bad; Koyama failed to see the problem.
It exploded- a burning car, two children left orphaned to be taken care of their grandmother, and two rebels taken care of. His sister hadn’t done anything; she was innocent in all of this.
Koyama began to wonder.
--
Getting the Pacifist removed was risky. Only about 20% of children survived it, and almost no adults did. Ohkura never did know how many other brothers and sisters he had originally had, only that he made it. There were some elite, very expensive doctors who could do the procedure.
The Yakuza owned just one such doctor.
Ohkura adjusted his hat, watching the city roll by outside of the window. It was a dreary kind of day, the clouds hung really low, pressing down on them and all the little people who ran around, trying to get all their errands done before the heavens opened up on their heads. The first few drops hit the windshield, then the window he was looking out of, streaking horizontal across his vista.
“Looks like it is going to be a bad one.” Junno hummed to himself from the front seat flicking on the wipers.
Ohkura hummed, he was more than used to tuning Junno out by now. Junno was the biggest spout of inane and useless stuff anyone could ever want to know. What is the difference between a crow and a raven? Ask Junno. He’s that kind of Wikipedia-shit kind of guy. Only more annoying; Ohkura liked Wikipedia, you could spend a whole day with that, Junno drove him mental on the best of days.
Every other day he just drove him around.
“Question.” Ohkura spoke, watching the water streak the window. It was really coming down now, waves and waves of water lashing across the sidewalk and some miserable people who didn’t get out of the way in time. “When they took that thing out of your head, they broke something didn’t they?”
Junno smirked at him in the rear view, pink lips against the pallor of his face. Ohkura sighed, watched the car hit a forming-puddle and sending a wave of freezing water over a poor kid walking by. If Junno noticed, he made no indication. They went around the block once, then once more in a bigger circle just to be sure. Ohkura didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He didn’t believe for a moment that they were the first ones there though.
“Leave it running, yeah?” He leaned forward, sliding his hands down Junno’s strong shoulder, meeting his eyes in the rear-view. “This could get hot.”
“Baby, I don’t know any other kind of night.” Ohkura rolled his eyes, pushing open the door and pulling his hat down further over his hair. He needed to run half a block towards the small squat office building. The basement was going to be the future, their future. Or he was going to find a massacre. At least he didn’t look weird jogging, hand holding his hat down in the hope that the rain wouldn’t utterly ruin his hair. The tails of his trench coat flapped against the backs of his knees, chasing him up the stone steps and into the alcove over hanging the door.
His wingtips were sloshing with water, and he sent a brief prayer for the leather, it was probably the least of his worries.
The door opened into a dim hallway. The top two floors were contract lawyers, shabby, easy to afford or charity cases. The bottom was Koyama’s office, he had an official lab at the university, but he had been funnelling the odd amount of cash into this secret little office. He was careful, meticulously so; all of the finances were set up to look like child support, keeping an illegitimate girlfriend secret from his family. It was brilliant really. That wasn’t illegal really, but what he really kept there would have him killed if anyone ever found out. Only people knew now, people like Ohkura and his family, and any other number of rebel factions, crime syndicates and if Koyama was really unlucky the private little army of the Prime Minister.
Nothing in the hallway moved and so Ohkura walked towards the stairs, moving like he had nowhere else important to be. His shoes squeaked with every step, and it was probably good that he wasn’t trying to be stealthy; soggy ninjas inspired no fear.
He was half-way down the dimly lit staircase when the shot rang out, clear and cutting in the otherwise stillness. Ohkura swore under his breath and jumped the last three stairs, landing with a slap of his soles, dashing down the last few steps. He could only pray that he wasn’t too late. He had wanted to do this the easy way, only that didn’t look like it was going to work anymore; the wet coat was a bit of problem, but he got his revolver out of the its shoulder-holster.
The door was halfway down the hall and he ran towards it. Ran right into someone coming out from the intersecting hallway; they had been running full pelt and the two of them crashed right into each other. The momentum carried them both over, hitting the marble floor in a jarring slam, arms and legs everywhere. Ohkura managed not to hit his head on the way down, but he did hit his elbow and his whole arm was numb down to the tips of his fingers with the sudden wash of pain.
Sprawled across the floor next to him looking dazed was the target, Koyama Keiichiro, struggling to sit up and gasping for breath.
Thundering footsteps down the hall, getting closer, and Koyama was trying to get to his feet, tangled with Ohkura’s long coat. “No no no.” He hissed, trying desperately to get away.
Ohkura barely got a look at the man that was chasing them, tall, buff, and most importantly, official badge shining from his chest with the same fatality of oncoming headlights. Then the gun he was pointing. Ohkura shot first. It was loud, so loud and Koyama let out a little less then manly shriek, flattening himself against the floor like that was going to help if people were shooting at him. The man stared, looking shocked for a moment, arms jerking towards his chest, and that wasn’t going to do much with a hole in his lung. No one ever fought back, they couldn’t; and that always worked to Ohkura’s advantage.
Ohkura pulled himself to his feet, and his elbow was going to bruise spectacularly he could feel the heat of it blooming already making his joint stiff, but he had found Koyama. Koyama who was staring at the body with huge eyes.
“You killed him. I--, how?”
“No time.” Ohkura rolled his shoulders, and Koyama was still sitting on the ground looking lost. They didn’t have time for this. If there was one agent there was probably another nearby. “We need to go now.”
“Wait wait.” Koyama pulled himself to his feet and it looked painful, grimace twisting his pretty face up. “Who are you?”
Ohkura sighed, always with the hard way. Why doesn’t anyone like the easy way. “Get your stuff, we are going.” He pointed the gun at his chest and Koyama stared at him confused. “Now.”
He was favouring his right foot as he scuttled down the hall, Ohkura following and watching the exits as best he could, they still had the element of surprise, but that never lasted too long. The inside of Koyama’s lab looked like something large had torn through it looking for something small. The floor was littered with papers and broken glass, twisted metal contraptions, rings and tongs peeking out from under and around the mess. One of his shelves had been completely over turned and the frosted glass of his door was shattered jaggedly.
“Just take what you need.” Ohkura said over his shoulder, eyes on the prize watching both ends of the hall for movement. Koyama stood in the middle of the destroyed lab staring at a bench covered in papers and a fall of pale yellow sticky-notes.
“I—yeah. Okay.” In the bottom drawer, under a false bottom was a leather-bound notebook, he grabbed that, and out of the top shelf he took a first aid kit.
“No time for that.” Ohkura hissed, if he wasn’t bleeding to death now, he would be soon.
“I hid it here.” He snapped back.
A little black case, impossible to tell what was inside, it looked like a glasses case, one of those huge ones for designer sunglasses. He clutched it tight, looking at Ohkura, pale but determined.
“That everything?”
“No, but it should be enough.” Koyama looked around again, the whole place was stuffed with notes, and racks of vials. “What is going to happen to this place?”
“They will probably burn the whole building to the ground. Let’s try not to be here when they do.”
Koyama followed him, limping his way up the stairs as fast as he could. Ohkura’s elbow throbbed. He would need to tell Junno that he elbowed the guy in the face before shooting him in the chest; that sounded so much cooler than he ran into Koyama and fell down.
It was still pissing rain outside, and Ohkura wished that he hadn’t made Junno park so far away. Koyama looked ready to bolt, well hobble away, so he grabbed him around the wrist and tugged him out into the rain after him. At some point his fedora had fallen off and the rain slicked his hair down, trickling down the back of his neck under his coat. Great. He made his way down the block to where they could see the car waiting, trying his best not to look conspicuous and probably failing.
Only Junno wasn’t in the car- it was empty and Ohkura hissed his displeasure under his breath. Did they notice him? What if they came and took him?
Koyama gasped, pressing up against the car, and Ohkura spun, reaching for his gun to find Junno standing there, rain slicking his little jacket to his body. “Where the fuck were you?” He snapped. “There is another agent out here somewhere.”
“Not anymore.” Junno grinned and Ohkura couldn’t help it, he smiled back a little.
“You’re supposed to be a driver, just drive.”
“Yes boss.” Junno had the most insolent way of saying it, but Ohkura couldn’t stop him.
His wet ass couldn’t be good for the leather Ohkura thought as he could feel it soaking through him and into the seat. Koyama was pressed up against the far door, watching him carefully. He had to be confused as hell, people coming out of every corner out to get him. Junno walked around the front of the car, looking for all the world like a regular chauffer again, short black coat and white gloves that were now slicked to his long fingers. The large town car roared to life, pulling smoothly out of its parking spot and down the street.
“You killed a man.” Koyama’s voice was strong, no longer terrified, or at least hiding it better.
“Yep.” Ohkura agreed.
“How is that possible? And how did they find me?”
“Well I got my bug taken out when I was a baby. As for you, you have something we all want don’t you?”
Koyama stared hard at the back of Junno’s head, jaw clenched.
“Who are you?” Koyama looked like a wet rat, rainwater slicking his black hair to his forehead.
Ohkura shrugged, his coat weighed a million pounds all wet so he pulled it off, then the jacket underneath leaving his relatively dry button-down and waistcoat. It gave him a few moments to think. “We’ll say I am a friend, they want to kill you, I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Boss.” Junno cut him off. “We’re being followed.”
“Someone wants you, real bad.” He said, reaching across the seat to shove Koyama down. “Can we lose them?”
“Is the sky blue?” Junno asked back.
“No, right now it’s grey.” He mumbled, and the car accelerated slightly, shifting over a lane. He turned right at the red light, and it gave them a little space between the small beater that was tailing them. Of course now they were going in the wrong direction. Junno accelerated to cut a yellow light narrowly.
Horns blared behind them as the car followed them through it, right before the back window exploded in glass and Ohkura swore loudly. “Hide.” He tossed his jacket at Koyama’s head and twisted in the seat to peek over the back. He rain was coming in through the hole where the glass used to be warm and wet, he narrowed his eyes against it. The passenger was leaning out the window. Really? He had a Tommy gun, and ratatatat, Ohkura ducked back down as the boot was riddled with shots.
“Well shit.” Junno said, and the car accelerated, pulling through the crowd with a roar of the engine.
He pulled a hard left and Ohkura slid across the seats crashing into Koyama again; there was glass everywhere and it was a miracle that it wasn’t shoved up his ass by now. Speeding and weaving through traffic, they were going to attract even more attention at this rate, horns blaring in their wake. Ohkura could only trust that Junno wasn’t going to wrap them around a light-post or something.
“Get in the front.” Ohkura shoved hard at Koyama’s shoulder.
He balanced on the back, knees splayed across the seats and leaning out of the rear window, and fired a shot at the windshield of the car following them. He missed, but they fell back a little giving them some time. Koyama was awkwardly trying to climb up in the passenger seat, sliding around as Junno swerved. He hit the brake and Koyama slithered right into the front with a painful sounding thump. In the precious few seconds where the other car had slammed on the brakes and were hydroplaning, swerving madly, the back end of their car swinging from side to side, Ohkura took a breath and lined up his next shot. It hit the glass high up. Tires squealed as the other car sailed past them, trying to avoid being shot back.
“Hang on!” Junno said even as he was pulling into a sharp turn that sent Ohkura skidding across the back.
Ohkura grabbed at the seats, trying to hold himself up as the car swung hard, pulling a u-turn probably too sharp for the size of the car. Then Junno was shooting away, going way too fast for this kind of weather, leaving the other car behind as it struggled to get under control again.
“You’re really pretty for a scientist; sure we got the right guy?”
“Eyes on the road.” Ohkura grumbled.
“Looks like we caught someone else’s attention.” Junno said back, and Ohkura heard the wail before he saw the sirens. Fucking great. And he was all wet.
Junno took the next corner hard, and this was the last time he ignored Junno when he told him to buckle up- his bruises had bruises. The city flew by, buildings giving way to rundown houses, flying into the bad end of town. The lights flashed behind them, falling behind, and disappearing sometimes but always back, chasing them down as Junno tried his best to lose them.
“We could bail. Hide out.” Junno said, and he actually sounded annoyed, he wasn’t used to being out-driven.
“Koyama hurt his foot when we were running before, not going to get far.” Ohkura sunk into his seat first wrapped in the seatbelt to hold him in place; the rain was letting up a little, still falling hard but not trying to drown them. “Okay, head towards the factory district, get far enough ahead that you can drop us off, then lead them away.”
“Yes sir.”
At one point Junno slid across an intersection, pulling the huge car sideways at an impossible angle before tearing off straight as the police cars flew by in the totally wrong way. Ohkura didn’t even know such a heavy car could pull stuff like that.
The factory district was full of huge old hulking buildings that stood silent watch over the dark alleys, abandoned in the last depression. The engine roar followed them through the tight alley-ways. He clipped a stop-sign, the screech of metal-on-metal loud in the absence of other sounds. They stopped really suddenly, Ohkura sliding forward on his seat barely catching himself before he landed in the wheel well.
“Let’s go.” The alleyway was narrow, just enough space for him to slip out the open door. He pulled Koyama the rest of the way out of the car, pulling them towards a small entryway hidden in the shadows. The rain was still coming down in a steady stream and what he had managed to keep dry was quickly wet. Gross.
Ohkura used his body to press Koyama into the furthest corner of the entry way, Junno and the car tore down the alleyway, fishtailing at an intersection before taking off left.
“Will he be okay?” Koyama’s breath was hot against the side of his face, skin chilled by the rain. They didn’t move. The sirens were closing in, echoing everywhere and making it too hard to pinpoint them exactly.
“Yeah.” Because Junno was the best driver he had ever seen, and he was going to be okay or Ohkura was going to kick his skinny ass. “Hush now.” Ohkura pressed closer into Koyama’s chest, squishing them both into the shadowy corner. Tense moments, Koyama’s pulse thundering against his chest, and one, two, three police cars whizzed by, screaming down the alleyway after Junno.
“Keep moving.”
The doorway they were in was padlocked, so sticking close to the side of the building they searched for another way in. There was an old dumpster pushed up against the wall, all but closing off the alley, the top was high enough that maybe they could get in the window there. It wasn’t easy to get Koyama up there, he couldn’t put too much weight on his ankle, but eventually he was sitting on top of it while Ohkura heaved himself up.
Now not only were his clothes wet and gross, now there were trash-cooties all over him too.
The window was locked, but the lock wasn’t as hard to break at the one of the door, and offered very little protection against Ohkura’s desperation to get somewhere dry. The drop down was pretty bad, too high up and nothing to land on. He couldn’t risk leaving Koyama out here alone so he would need to go first, and landing on his foot wasn’t going to be easy.
“Sorry.” He muttered, more or less shoving Koyama through after he boosted him up. This part of town was still, like a crypt, where the dreams of economic glory lie entombed. He looked down both ways of the narrow strip of pitted tarmac, nothing at either mouth moved so he scrambled less then gracefully up and over.
Koyama was sitting leaning against the wall, soaked and looking to be in quite a bit of pain.
Well they were dry, and for the time being safe –so that was something. Ohkura slicked his hair back, running his hands through it. It held, all thick and heavy and wet.
There was a tear in his shirt, cuts all over his hands and arms from the glass in the back and the scramble around the dumpster.
“This is the worst rescue ever.” Koyama said. He hadn’t moved from his position against the wall. His hair was everywhere, clothes stuck to him highlighting how skinny he was.
“I never said anything about rescue. I was kidnapping you.”
“Well then, this is the worst kidnapping ever.”
“What are you kidnapped regularly?” Ohkura drawled, Koyama gave him a filthy look, and okay fine, touchy. “I’m going to look around, don’t... uh, go anywhere.”
Koyama glared at him as he walked away. The warehouse they had broken into was cold and dark inside. The giant shapes of shipping crates rose out of the gloom, long abandoned. Once Junno got back they would lie low here for a bit, until some of the heat eased off, then steal a car and get the fuck out of Dodge. A bath and his bed, hand Koyama over to his grandfather to decide what they were going to do with him. If Koyama’s little experiment worked. Well, the implications were so big he couldn’t even fully comprehend them.
There was nothing to see, just more emptiness, he scouted out into the darkness for all the good that did. It was impossible to tell how long he had been gone, but Koyama was still sitting there when he got back, alone under the puddle of pale light that shone through the opened window.
“Is that you? Mr. Kidnapper.”
“Were you expecting someone else?” He slid down the wall until they were sitting next to each other.
“Not really, but it’s been a weird sort of day.” His breath hitched at the end there, and sitting down it was really quite cold on the hard floor. His jacket was gone, and Koyama had never been wearing more than his button-down and slacks to begin with.
“What did you expect when you announced what you found, honestly?” He listened to the chatter of Koyama’s teeth.
“I thought I was being discreet.”
“Revolution is never discreet.”
When Junno came back, (far too much later, Ohkura was mad that he had made him worry, that bitch), he found Koyama on the floor curled around his messenger bag and Ohkura curled right up behind him, clinging to him for warmth.
Junno was soaked and exhausted looking, drooping in places that usually were quite perky.
“You’re back.” Ohkura noted, and Junno shrugged. “What took you so long?”
“They are searching the area, it wasn’t easy.”
No, but Junno made that kind of thing look easy. It was one of the reasons that Ohkura hated him so much. Clown may have been an idiot, but he was good, very good, made them expect more from Ohkura, and he didn’t like needing to do more then was required of him.
“No one followed you?”
“Nope.” Junno sat down, and it was going to fall dark soon, their light was failing fast, the rain was still drizzling outside, Ohkura could hear it on the roof, amid the random other drips and drops of leaks here and there. “Is he okay?” Junno tilted his chin at Koyama whom was fast asleep.
“Great.”
“Your grandfather is going to be worried.”
Ohkura wasn’t thinking about that. He had a mission, get Koyama, bring him and his research back. He had Koyama, it was only the bringing him back part that was going to be a problem. They wouldn’t move tonight, it was too risky to bring in another car and Koyama wasn’t running anywhere fast. He wasn’t supposed to break the scientist any more then necessary to get him to comply. Koyama was proving to be quite easy, most pacified people were. What other choice did they have?
Ohkura had grown up around violence; every member of the family was un-collared. The news called them that, like rabid dogs, they could attack at any time, un-collared (they avoided using the words unleashed that sounded too positive). When they were kids they used to flight, oh how they would fight, during summer vacations there would be black eyes and broken fingers and whatever damage they could inflict on each other for only the glorious reason of they were young and dumb and they could.
“You couldn’t hide in a blanket warehouse?” Junno griped.
“Get your skinny ass down here.”
“Pot, kettle. Or underfed waifish spatula, you know, huge head, skinny little body.”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Ohkura would have punched him in the face, but he was so gloriously warm along his back that he couldn’t be bothered to move.
At some point in the night, after his hip and shoulder had fallen asleep and he lost feeling in his toes, but before he woke up slowly and painfully needing to take a piss, Koyama had rolled over, so that he was pressing his face against the leather of Ohkura’s gun holster. Junno’s octopus arms and legs were all over him from behind, one of his long arms going as far as to curl around Koyama’s hip right over him. Well, at least Ohkura was warm now.
They were all tangled together like puppies and Ohkura seriously wished that more of his days would include waking up all squished between two gorgeous men. Of course, in an ideal world it would be in a king sized beg and not on the hard ground. And they would be cuddling with him because they wanted his dick and not because it was colder than a witch’s tit in here.
Well he had kind of always assumed Junno wanted his dick. But that was because Junno was a little fey, and Ohkura had a nice dick. Koyama was a little more surprising, he didn’t fit the archetypal lab geek at all. He was all slim and sleek and beautiful, legs as far as the eye could see. He’d probably make good money dancing on a stage if he wasn’t such a brilliant biochemist.
His hair had dried in tufts that stood up oddly, and his back was pointy and pressed up between them, protected.
“Okay?” Junno rumbled against his hair. And his voice rumbled through his chest where they were pressed so close together he couldn’t be sure which heartbeat was his own.
“Need to piss.” He said, and his voice came out all rough with morning.
His whole body was stiff and sore, deep ache centered in his elbow lesser aches in his hips and shoulders. Ohkura hobbled away from them, curled up like puppies on the floor. They didn’t look cute, not in the least, Junno sliding over so he was pressed closer to Koyama’s back and the warmed spot Ohkura left.
They should get out of here today. The further from the windows he got the darker it was and he kept bumping into things. He shuffled slower, wingtips scraping across the cement. His heels felt blistered, his shoes were not meant for running in the rain, they were meant to match the jacket he lost.
When Ohkura figured he was far enough away he chose a corner and just pissed there. It wasn’t worth it to stumble around in the dark looking for a proper toilet. Zipping up he took a moment to lament the lack of a brush and a mirror. He must look a mess, letting his hair drip dry, all the product reduced to a greasy mass on his scalp.
“What’s the plan boss?” Junno met him, standing just on the edge of where they camped, stretching out his stupid endless arms. “We’re going to need to get him back. If you don’t turn up soon--”
“I know.” Ohkura sighed, what a pain. “I’ll go scout around, you watch our guest.”
“I can go.”
“You went yesterday.” Ohkura said with a smooth shrug. He wanted to tell Junno not to be stupid, but that hadn’t worked the hundreds of times he had said it before and the chances were it wasn’t going to work this time either. He couldn’t be bothered.
“Okay, just.” Junno reached out and Ohkura didn’t move fast enough to avoid the other man’s friendly hug, loose arms like wet spaghetti. “Be careful.”
Of course that’s when he noticed Koyama watching him, it was too dark to see what kind of face he was making but he was sprawled across the floor, eyes catching the light in the darkness. He couldn’t help even ruffled and dirty, that Koyama was kind of unreasonably attractive. Life wasn’t like a movie and the damsel in distress was never actually smoking hot, Ohkura wondered at what point he had checked out of normal life and into some cheesy action movie.
“Off me, Dr. Octopus.” Ohkura grumbled and Junno huffed a laugh way too close to his ear for comfort. “Or I will Spiderman all over your shit.”
“Kinky.” Junno laughed, but he was letting go, moving back over to crouch near Koyama. “I’m on prisoner watch, are you feeling better.”
“Peachy.” Koyama said. “Better if you would bring me back coffee.”
Ohkura snorted, pushy kidnapee.
He left Junno and Koyama sitting up against the cement wall looking at the swelling on his ankle.
Everything was still a little damp from yesterday’s rain and the sun hadn’t seared away the morning mist yet giving the world a hazy blurred around the edges kind of effect. His shoes were really beginning to bug him, slapping against the asphalt with a small hush sound and tight in places they weren’t before, rubbing against his baby toe. He should have just made Junno go; it wasn’t like Junno would complain, he’d just smile and do as he was told. Idiot boy.
There were a few years in his past where Junno hadn’t been around. After he turned ten and they stopped beating the shit out of each other for fun. Until he was nineteen, and Junno came back suddenly taller and a lot more blond, filling in his stupid nose and feet that had always seemed too big for him when he was a kid. Ohkura mused as he walked. Thinking about the shapes of his past in the mist, and about the future he could build now. Koyama was a key, or maybe he was the lock. Either way they needed him.
He wasn’t wearing a watch and it could have been ten minutes or an hour. It was hard to tell when all the buildings looked the same and there wasn’t a single car around to hotwire. Eventually when the warehouses got smaller and smoothed into a rundown train yard with tiny block houses on the other side.
“You car is mine.” He had the gun out and pointed at the man, older with hair only around the edges of his scalp.
“Stop joking punk.” He said, giving Ohkura a foul look. He was used to this part. It was so easy it was boring—there was nothing this guy could even do to stop him. Ohkura cracked him across the face with the butt of the gun, it would bruise pretty but it wasn’t enough to drop him completely. His shocked expression was one of many in Ohkura’s little book of ‘people freaking right the fuck out’.
“Keys.” The gun was steady- he was hungry and cranky and not above shooting this guy right in the face for a cup of coffee.
He dropped the keys then dropped to his ass right there in the driveway holding his bleeding mouth with hands that shook. To his credit he didn’t faint. Sighing heavily Ohkura stooped to pick up the keys and unlocked the car. It was a small little beater, but it would do. The door slammed too hard and the engine rattled, but he threw it in reverse and drove away.
Ohkura only got lost twice trying to find the right warehouse, and stalled the engine no less than four times (he wasn’t the driver, he sat in the back and told people where to go). It wasn’t his fault they all looked the same, just all in a row, endless walls of corrugated steel. Eventually he pulled up to one next to a familiar dumpster. Well at least this one looked familiar, like the last two and the window above it was broken. The clutch whined, but everything was parked and off.
It was with the thought of a huge breakfast and a hot shower that he scaled the dumpster and hauled himself through the wall and promptly dropped into a whole lot of gloomy nothingness. Koyama and Junno where nowhere to be found. There were some suspiciously wet stains where they had been, shadowy and dark smudges. Panic shot through him, sudden and cold.
He was about to call out when a shouts broke out somewhere towards his right. “There, shit, he’s running, get him,” the shout finished too quiet to hear. Heart pumping suddenly fast he took off down towards his right hoping his eyes would adjust enough that he wasn’t going to land in a heap on the floor again. It had worked out last time, but he wouldn’t bet money on his luck holding.
It was pretty dark in the heart of the warehouse and he could only hope that it would give Junno and Koyama enough cover to hide. He actually almost ran right out in front of someone, skidding to a stop in the last moment when he heard something slam hard against the metal.
“If you come out now I won’t shoot you in the fucking foot.” Someone snarled and there was another slam, the sound of it echoing loudly. Ohkura peered around the box he was pressed against. He unhooked his gun from the holster sliding it against his palm comfortingly.
There was a man, slick to the nine’s white suit the only thing that made him visible in the gloom.
“How about I cut off your toes-- can’t run then. Come on little scientist, your friend is dead by now; if the police get you they won’t be so nice.”
Ohkura grit his teeth. Fuckers were trying to kidnap what he had already kidnapped. There was no way they killed Junno, he could take care of himself. He just needed to hold on a little longer. Something made a muffled thump, too close.
“Found you.”
“No!” Ohkura shouted and lunged out of hiding, they couldn’t get Koyama. The shot went off and Ohkura was still stumbling forwards waiting for the pain to hit. Nothing, the white shadow crumpled backwards hands scrabbling at his throat and bleeding in aortal arcs all over the place.
“What?”
Out of one of the thickest shadows painting the area between two blocks, Koyama emerged clinging to the edge of the packing crate, face pale and luminous in the darkness and smudged with blood. He was holding Junno’s revolver in a hand that shook so badly he was barely even pointing it at the body on the ground anymore.
“I-“ The gun hit the ground with a bang and Koyama was sliding down the side of the wall unable to take his eyes off the body. Picking his way over the corpse, he crouched down in front of Koyama, taking his face in his palms when snapping didn’t seem to be working.
“Are you okay?” Koyama blinked at him, and his whole body seemed to shake for a moment and now was not the time to be falling apart.
“I’m okay.” Koyama said, staring up at Ohkura.
“Good.” He used his thumb to rub at one of the blood smudges on his cheek without even realizing he was doing it. “What happened?”
“They found us somehow. Junno, he’s hurt you need to go find him.” Koyama’s fingers were wrapped tight around his lapels, frowning hard.
“He’s a big boy.” Ohkura just had to believe that.
“I took the drug. I’ve never tested it on humans before.” A nervous little trill of laughter just on the right side of hysterical, “I guess it works.”
“You’re telling me I went through all this trouble to kidnap you for a cure that wasn’t tested?”
“I’ve been having trouble getting it through the FDA.” Koyama joked, his smile was weak, but it brought back a little colour to his face and he didn’t seem so close to the edge of some sort of breakdown.
“Okay, I’m going to need you to go over there and hide. I’ll go get Junno then we can blow this popsicle stand.” He picked up the gun, and replacing it for his own, Junno was going to be missing it. “Just, stay hidden.”
Koyama clung to his arm to lever himself up without putting too much weight on his foot, and hobbled over to another shadowy corner, melting into it with a tired sounding sigh.
If Junno wasn’t okay Ohkura was going to punch him right in the smug face. As soon as he found him.
“Son of a bitch.” Was the first thing Ohkura heard, faint, too far away. The echoes made it hard to find, but he was running towards the sound of voices, and the unmistakeable sound of two people tussling.
They had managed to find a puddle of light from a dirty window on the roof and Junno was pinned under a rather butch looking fellow. He had fists like Christmas hams, all intent to bash Junno’s face in. Which was Ohkura’s job. He took aim, ready to fire when Junno arched, grabbing his attacker’s shoulder as he wrapped one leg behind his knee and they rolled. Impossible to tell what was going on with limbs were flailing everywhere in the gloom but Junno came out on top, sitting on the man’s chest, knee pinning one of his huge arms to the cement.
Junno was completely silent when he grabbed the man’s head and hit it hard against the cement. He was out like a light, breathing shallow, but no longer a threat. Ohkura whistled, and Junno was grinning through a split lip when he looked up, blood spilling all down the front of his grey button-down. The smile looked painful, Ohkura kind of wanted to kiss it, to taste the copper that hung in the air.
“You’re okay.”
“Of course I’m okay.” His knuckles were all scraped up, and there was a graze on his shoulder where his shirt stuck to his skin with a dark looking stain.
“Was there only the two of them?”
“Yeah, the two from the car yesterday.” Junno climbed off the comatose guy, being none to gentle where he put his feet and knees. He ran a hand through his ruined hair, it was falling across his face in a platinum fall, all downy soft without the grease he usually slicked it back with. “Koyama?”
“Safe.” Ohkura shrugged and Junno nodded at him looking relieved.
“Can we go home now?”
“You’re the driver.” Ohkura smiled at him fondly, “I can’t work a clutch worth shit.”
“Let’s go get the lab mouse, and blow this popsicle stand.”
“Who even says that, you’re so lame.”
Junno just grinned like he knew Ohkura had said the exact same thing earlier.
~~
Junno had bruised ribs and his face was a mess of bruises when they finally limped into the head house supporting Koyama’s weight between the two of them.
It had been two weeks since then, and Junno’s bruises were just yellow smudges on his skin, barely there except for in the right light. Ohkura and him spent their time recovering (his elbow still twinged, but he was used to the scars—there was something to be said about the sociologist and the over-violent sub-culture from organized crime. Him and Junno pulled some crazy-ass shit.
He knew Koyama was somewhere still in the house, but he didn’t emerge from his room, papers spread everywhere. Ohkura had peeked in on him once (or twice, or more but he wasn’t feeling in the mood to count), watched him bob to the music coming softly from his laptop as he read or wrote out pages of notes.
Ohkura wore loose sweats and a tight wife-beater, bouncing on the soles of his trainers. He could go for a run yes, but he would rather spar with Junno. Or maybe he could teach Koyama to fight; the other man didn’t seem to know what to do with his new found abilities.
He just sort of assumed that Junno would be out in the courtyard where the ring was set up, sunlight dappling through the tresses that disguised it as a rooftop garden. He was right; Junno was sitting on the roof, but he wasn’t going through his katas he was on the bench, playing with a strand of Koyama’s hair, twisting it between callused fingers. It looked like a peaceful moment, Koyama lying across the length of the bench with his head in Junno’s lap, both of them murmuring quietly together. Ohkura hadn’t been noticed yet; Junno leaned over, grinning stupidly as he tickled the end of Koyama’s nose with his own hair.
Ohkura wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the twisting feeling in his stomach. If Junno was going to shag their newest pet, he should have at least told Ohkura, not only was Ohkura the boss, but he’d thought they were closer than that. Well, he wouldn’t say it, but he’d kind of assumed that’s what Junno’s smiles and tentacle-hugs meant.
“Hey.” Koyama’s arm waved, looking lazy and content.
“What’s shaking?” He waved back feeling awkward.
“Taking a break, I think I am close to a breakthrough on remaking the original compound, just I can’t isolate it from my own blood anyways, and without my own brain tissue I need to try and synthesize it from scratch.”
“You just need to use your head.” Junno tugged playfully on his hair and Koyama swatted at him, mock scowling.
“I’m going to go for a jog.” Ohkura said, beating a tactical retreat. He wasn’t sure what to do with something he couldn’t hit.
Ohkura wandered around after his shower harassing the cook, and generally making himself a pest. Tonight he was going to go cruising, he would find himself some pretty young thing all tiny and delicate and he would thrill them by getting rough because he could. They always got off on his dick like that, gasping all hot and wet like they had never had anything quite like him.
“You know he loves you right?”
“What?” Ohkura wouldn’t admit under pain of death that Koyama had just scared him, sneaking up where he was lounging in the library reading. “Who?”
“Junno.” Koyama sat up on the edge of couch he was doing his best to sprawl across. Ohkura looked at him, up and upside down, frowning, well an upside down frown is just a smile right?
“No he doesn’t.” That was silly. That didn’t make sense at all, Junno was a big boy with fists and feet, and he fought and drove but he didn’t love. He did whatever Ohkura told him because that was his job.
“He told me. Said, that you can do it, that you can hurt people if you have a reason to do so, if you need to.” He looked caught somewhere between sad and determined. It was a curious expression, made him kind of look constipated when he was upside down.
Koyama had been raised pacified, he was one of the sheep. Ohkura never thought about it, he just did, your first was only an extension of your arm after all. It had never bothered him. He was born this way. He didn’t need a reason; a new world order was enough wasn’t it? Fight to survive-- that was human nature. Well it was supposed to be.
“I can’t imagine him making some sappy love declaration.”
“He didn’t need to; I had a sister you know. She was good at this kind of thing.”
“Was that—?“
“Yeah, why I developed the drug. I couldn’t take it anymore, all the death and misery. That is why I’ll.”
Ohkura wasn’t sure what it was; maybe something in the way Koyama was looking at him (like he was something difficult, pursed lips and a tiny frown between his eyebrows), but he was leaning up on his elbows. Koyama leaned down, bracing himself on the couch and the kiss was awkward, both of them straining to meet properly, but it sent a little thrill of adrenaline through him, bright and warm and pulsing alive.
That was how Junno found them, Ohkura lazily sprawled back on the couch, Koyama straddling his lap, fingers in Ohkura’s hair and kissing wet and messy and unhurried. He had his hands on Koyama’s hips, letting just the tips of his fingers slip under his untucked shirt, keeping his touch gentle.
“I thought you said you wanted to talk to him.” Junno said, and he was filling in the doorway, all long lines and smooth angles of his sharp suit, watching them.
“We’re talking.” Ohkura said voice rough and breathless. You could steal a man’s breath with kisses or a jab to the solar plexus. “I’m using my tongue, aren’t I?”
“Oh yeah.” Koyama laughed, twisting to look at Junno over his shoulder. “I told him you love him. He doesn’t believe me.”
“You what?.” Junno hissed, Ohkura got the rare opportunity to see Junno looking confused, mouth working and just staring at them like Koyama suddenly grew two dicks or something (still only had one from what Ohkura could feel). The expression smoothed out quickly, sly, smirky sort of grin in its place. Long legs needed only a few steps to carry him across to where they were, both of them watching him, waiting for the potential energy in the room to flare into something. If Junno hit him, Ohkura was at a disadvantage seeing as Koyama was sitting on him, but Junno wasn’t the kind of guy to abuse an advantage.
“Junno.” Ohkura began, really unsure what words were supposed to go after that.
“I’m not,” Junno was leaning over the back of the lounge, pressing his cheek against Ohkura’s at a weird angle, and tipping his head so the next words were whispered into his mouth. “Ever going to admit that I love you. Because I don’t.”
“Liar. Filthy lair.” Was whispered soft and reverent against the column of his neck, Koyama ducking low to press his lips against his pulse point so Ohkura could feel the sear of the words.
Ohkura didn’t get his two cents in on the conversation because his lips were touching Junno’s soft and full, like kissing a girl, an upsidedown girl. You’d think between the two of them, one of them would have got the first kiss right-way up.
“Good.” Ohkura breathed, smiling slow and lazy against Junno’s cheek. “It would be weird if you did.”
“Idiots.” Koyama muttered, but he was lifting himself up on his knees, pressing both hands to Ohkura’s chest to lean over him, stealing Junno’s mouth. They had him squished in the middle, the soft wet sounds of kissing like surround-sound porno in his ear. Koyama’s ass fit in his palm, the sharp little curve of bone, barely anything to dig his fingers into.
Act now, think later. The world could change at any moment.
Koyama groaned, low, the sound vibrating out from his chest and all around them, spine dipping and twisting in a move no scientist had the right to know, like a stripper, pushing his ass against his hands and his half-hard dick against his stomach.
“Can’t do this here.” Junno said.
“It’s my house, I can do whatever the fuck I want.”
Koyama laughed, rolling his hips smoothly again. “Well what do you want?”
“He’s spoiled enough.” Junno laughed at pretty much the same time he answered ‘Blow me’.
“Shut up, Junno.” Ohkura laughed, swatting at his shoulder affectionately, Koyama was grinning at them still easily entranced by the easy contact between them. People grew isolated when told again and again that even the slightest of touches could escalate into domestic abuse over time. Then you would get your brain fried.
“Make me.”
Ohkura did. Junno couldn’t talk when he had his tongue busy; Koyama took the suggestion to blow him quiet seriously, slithering to the floor with more grace then you would expect from a scientist. The curve of his skull fit perfectly into the cradle of his left hand, rubbing his thumb across the thin hot skin behind his ear. His other hand was lost somewhere in the short sensitive hairs at Junno’s nape, using it as an anchor to keep Junno right where he wanted him.
Junno’s mouth was surprisingly soft, lush lines and the hidden sharpness of his teeth. Junno had his hands on Ohkura’s hips, keeping the instinctive twitch under control so he wouldn’t choke Koyama. They were tangled all together, Koyama kneeling between their legs, fingers of one hand curled behind Junno’s knee (Junno’s pants were partially under the bed, and Ohkura honestly couldn’t tell you how they got there, he had been exploring the curve of Koyama’s arm and the soft little bits of skin on the inside of his arms. It was distracting.)
“Fuck.” The word was long and drawled, muffled against Junno’s lips. Koyama’s nails scraped across the back of his thighs in agreement, or something, something that really didn’t matter because the head of his dick was snug against the back of Koyama’s throat. Tight heat and he could feel Koyama trying not to choke, trembling against his fingers. Koyama pulled back a fraction, letting his lips and tongue drag slowly. He continued, all the way down to the end, filthy wet sound.
Ohkura pressed his face against Junno’s neck, breathing hard the faintly salty and chemical taste there.
“Come here.” Koyama’s voice was raspy, raw sounding.
Ohkura had to watch it, Koyama’s dark head, tilting, swaying forward like he was hungry for it. Lips already sore-looking and puffy, licking delicately the slick looking head.
“Koyama.” Junno growled, and that tone of voice usually was associated with Junno about to attack, Ohkura was a little amused, and a lot turned on to hear it in this context.
Ohkura almost groaned in time with Junno as his mouth just opened and took him deep. Junno’s fingers bumped his not quite tangling, but resting over his on Koyama’s head. Both of them holding him steady.
He would have never imagined that sex with Junno would be like this, when he did think about it there was usually more biting, hair pulling and stupid jokes. Junno was gasping wetly against his lips, messy kisses devolving into just breathing hard against each other’s mouths. Ohkura could feel Koyama’s hair brushing his thighs with each bob of his head.
The only sad thing about this was he couldn’t watch, not while kissing Junno.
He tasted it when Junno came, Junno bit his bottom lip hard, right before he leaned back, shuddering all over. He was beautiful, face flushed and shattered by his orgasm.
Koyama’s fingers were digging hard into his thigh, a moment before he started coughing. Ohkura was sure that Koyama was getting come and spit all over his shin, face flushing bright red. Junno giggled, sounding dazed, while Ohkura pet Koyama’s hair, breath stuttering oddly in his chest too as Koyama fought to get his breathing under control. It was insane; he had never been so turned on watching someone else get a blow job before.
“Sorry.” Koyama mumbled, leaning against Junno’s knee.
“It’s good.” Junno rumbled.
It took both of them to haul Koyama up onto unsteady legs. He leaned hard on Ohkura, clinging to his shoulders. His mouth was just a perfect pink, and he couldn’t help but lean in for a taste. Semen and the blood from where Junno bit him should have honestly been a horrible taste. Only Koyama was kissing him like he was starving for it, tongue pressing demandingly into his mouth, and it was flawless. Neither of them was wearing pants, but Ohkura hadn’t managed to lose his undershirt, white ribbed cotton, warm against his chest, stopping him from rubbing up against Koyama completely.
“Here.”
Junno was pressed up against the length of Koyama’s back shoving him against Ohkura, thin chest against his own, surprisingly wide shoulders, and a narrow waist. Koyama wrapped his arms around his neck, leaning back to rest more of his weight on Junno’s chest. Some shifting, trying to get the perfect position, and his hands found Junno’s ass, digging his nails in a little just because he could, because that was how they were. Then Junno’s clever little hands wormed between them tickling across the sharp points of his hips and it was perfect.
Junno’s hands and the almost painful jut of the cradle of Koyama’s hips, all pressing together, but mixed with a little saliva and just the barest hint of sweat and the friction was singing on just the right side of too much.
“Oh.” Koyama gasped softly. Oh, right, they were pressed up together, locked together like puzzle pieces, Junno’s long-fingered hand curling around him and the heat of Koyama’s cock. Slip-sliding, Koyama wiggling trapped between them; Ohkura rolled his hips pressing him back against Junno. He hadn’t gotten off this way since he was younger and he just rubbing up against things the right way made him hard.
But it was building, huge and right there, like speeding right into a brick wall. Tight in his stomach, and Koyama was making these low little groaning sounds, and Junno was watching him, small smile tugging at his cheeks making his stomach clench hotly. Ohkura came, moaning low and obviously against Koyama’s shoulder shoving him hard against Junno as he came all slick and warm between them. He was panting and resting his weight on Koyama's shoulder listening to the mad thump of Koyama’s heart.
“Junno, please.” Koyama groaned, and this close, Ohkura could feel the vibrations of his words with his fingers. “Just—“
Ohkura leaned back a little, so that his hands slid down the impossible length of him to rest on Koyama’s hips, thumbing the little dips there. Koyama’s stomach and Junno’s hands were a wet mess his mess. Sliding hands, Junno’s hands, chin hooked over Koyama’s shoulder so he could watch the drag of his finger tips across Koyama’s flat stomach down to where Ohkura’s hands were holding him, framing the obscene jut of his dick.
“Do it.” Ohkura rasped.
“Yes, boss.”
Koyama whined, hands fluttering across Ohkura’s shoulders aimlessly when Junno wrapped his slick hand around his dick and started to jerk him. Junno set a quick pace, both of them watching Koyama fall to pieces.
It didn’t take too much, when Ohkura pinched one of his nipples between his nails, it had to hurt, Koyama shivered all over and came hard.
They were a tangled mess, Ohkura had ruined another shirt, but he was feeling lazy and full of blissed-out feelings, and couldn’t care less. Junno’s arms and Koyama’s legs were everywhere at once, like creeping ivy. It would just take too much work to get out their grasp. Ohkura couldn’t be bothered to try.
“I never said thanks for kidnapping me.” Koyama mumbled against his shoulder.
“Junno, shut him up.”
“Yes, boss.” Junno laughed.
--
Changing the world wasn’t easy business.
His drug wasn’t perfect, but then again birth control wasn’t perfect either and look how many people used that. Koyama tinkered with the compound, working and reworking standard effectiveness curves.
It was done as it was ever going to be. He was scared, he was fucking terrified. What if the world really was like they said, full of rape and murder before. People turning on each other like vicious animals. Would that really be so much different? Only they would be able to fight back.
Junno feinted left and Koyama fell for it, lunging for the small opening when his guard was down. Only Junno moved left instead and the jab to his solar plexus took Koyama’s breath away, making him stumble back, fighting to keep his arms up as he fought to breathe properly. It was a huge opening and Junno pressed it, hitting Koyama low around the waist, and they were both going down. Koyama landed on his back, twisting and scrambling to try and pin one of Junno’s limbs, but he wasn’t any match for the other man and soon he was pinned on his back, Junno sitting on his chest and smiling at him, smug.
“Give up, and I may go easy on you.”
“He’s lying.” Ohkura called, completely not helpful from the sides where he was watching them spar.
Koyama sat up gingerly, once Junno crawled off of him, brushing some of the dirt off. Junno got to his feet first, rolling out his shoulder like Koyama had ever posed a threat to him (which they both knew was a laughable thought).
“You wanna go?” Junno cocked his hips at the same angle as his eyebrow and Ohkura seemed to think about it for a bit before shrugging and stepping into the improvised circle. It was the heat of summer now and the sun shone through the leafy roof, dappling them both in shadow and spots of light. Junno and Ohkura wasting little time in circling each other, going in for the kill.
They were fast and deadly, barely pulling their punches at the last second. Later, sweaty and sore, Koyama would worm his way between them and that was a different kind of sparring, more teeth and fewer knees, but for now he was content to watch. He would never get tired of this, the soft grunt Junno made when Ohkura landed a particularly vicious hit.
Junno flipped Ohkura over his shoulder and he slammed into the ground hard, and something about it still took Koyama’s breath away. They twisted on the ground, Ohkura’s legs wrapped around Junno’s torso, trying to flip him into an arm bar. Koyama came to a decision watching them grapple on the floor, caught somewhere between actually fighting and foreplay. All the times Ohkura went out on family business with nothing but his gun and Junno, and Koyama worried himself sick.
Ohkura ended up on top, but it was impossible to tell which one of them won really.
“Hey.” Both of them turned to look at him, faces flushed and hair all over the place, twin looks of hunger. “It’s ...done.”
Their smiles were all the comfort he needed. Pacifist was supposed to make the world a better place and it failed, so Koyama was going to fix it.
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Thanks for sharing.
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