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writetomyheart2015-09-18 08:53 am
orangegreenlove.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2015-09-18 08:53 am
[Team Three] Wham Bam thank you Ma'am
Hooker/Yakuza AU, but there's surprisingly little porn. Warnings for people getting killed (no named characters), prostitution and all that stuff.
“Next time don’t get shot,” Fukazawa suggested, changing the dressing on the wound on Sakuma’s left hip, “then maybe you won’t have to hide out here until you go out of your mind with boredom.”
Out here was an old farm about as far from everywhere as you could get. After two days of this exile, Sakuma was thoroughly bored. With his leg and hip all banged up, he couldn’t move around well enough to go for a walk or do basically anything at all. He needed to practice, now more than ever - if the competition was desperate enough to use guns, he needed to be in top form to take them out.
“At least organize some company,” Sakuma sighed. He waved his bandaged right hand around. “I can’t even jerk it. There is just nothing to do around here.”
Of course the emptiness of the neighbourhood was the point - the farm had ostensibly been abandoned decades ago, though water and electricity worked. It was only occasionally used as a retreat, and while the inside of the building was kept clean and usable, the outside was deliberately neglected.
With the last dressing in place, Fukazawa took his leave. “I’ve got other work, but someone will be by later, so don’t do anything too stupid until then.”
~~~
“Yo.”
“Hey, Date-sama,” Sakuma greeted the newcomer. This was either really good news or really bad - Miyadate was the boss’s bodyguard, and it was an open secret that he did a lot more than guard Watanabe’s body. He rarely left Watanabe’s side unless it was important, especially in the middle of a war with a rival yakuza clan.
“I heard you were bored. Is getting shot twice not exciting enough anymore?”
“That was two days ago!” Sakuma replied, gesticulating with his left arm - it was just about the only part he could move freely without putting stress on any of his injuries. “I’m not even supposed to walk more than to the toilet and back.”
Miyadate shook his head. “Well, cheer up. I’ve brought you some entertainment.”
At a sign from Miyadate, Iwamoto walked into the room and Sakuma’s eyes widened slightly at the sight. Skintight black jeans that left nothing to the imagination and a leather collar were all that Iwamoto was wearing, leaving his wide shoulders bare. There were a number of piercings in his ears and a rather large bruise on one side of his face. Only the eyeliner and red lipstick hinted that he hadn’t been hired as muscle.
“As chance would have it, Hikaru here had to leave his previous place of employment in a bit of a hurry. He’ll keep you company for a while.” Miyadate turned to Iwamoto. “This idiot is supposed to be resting, so keep him on that couch. Don’t let him move his hips. Remember to change the dressings regularly.” Waving goodbye at Sakuma, Miyadate left, leaving the two of them alone.
Iwamoto grinned and stretched before sauntering over to Sakuma’s couch. Dropping smoothly to his knees, he reached for Sakuma’s yukata and opened it without asking for permission. He wasn’t particularly surprised to find that Sakuma wasn’t wearing any underwear - the piece of bandage he could see covering Sakuma’s hip was explanation enough.
Keeping his eyes on Sakuma, Iwamoto flicked the tip of his tongue over the head of Sakuma’s soft dick. When Sakuma made no move to stop him, Iwamoto wrapped his fingers around Sakuma’s dick to hold it up so that he could better lap at the tip. He worked it over with his tongue, licking up the underside, trailing around the head, teasing. Sakuma slowly hardened under his touch, groaning softly whenever Iwamoto did something he especially enjoyed.
“You’re that kind of entertainment, huh,” Sakuma commented, not exactly a question.
“Your boss paid me,” Iwamoto replied, licking a stripe up the length of Sakuma’s dick, “so just lie back and enjoy.”
Once Sakuma was fully hard, Iwamoto sucked him into his mouth. Sakuma’s dick was cute and not too big, just like Sakuma himself - a nice, funsized package. Sakuma’s uninjured left hand found its way into Iwamoto’s hair, tugging gently, but that only made Iwamoto move slower. He drew back until only the head of Sakuma’s dick was in his mouth, tonguing at the slit.
Iwamoto massaged Sakuma’s balls with gentle fingers, drawing sweet groans from him. “Damn, you’re good at this,” Sakuma praised, eyes fixed on Iwamoto’s red lips that were stretched around his dick. It took about all of Sakuma’s willpower not to thrust into Iwamoto’s eager mouth, but with his hip all banged up he really had no choice but to be satisfied with Iwamoto’s teasing pace.
Iwamoto soon sped up - he liked to tease, but aggravating Sakuma’s injuries by tempting him to move wasn’t part of his job. Besides, he liked to fit a whole dick into his mouth and Sakuma’s dick was just the right size for that, big enough that his mouth was pleasantly full but not so big that it would trigger his gag reflex.
Humming around Sakuma’s cock, Iwamoto bobbed his head, sucking his cheeks in and working his tongue whenever possible. Sakuma made encouraging noises, praising Iwamoto’s clever mouth, interspersed with occasional appreciative comments about Iwamoto’s broad shoulders and pierced ears.
It wasn’t all that long before Sakuma gasped a warning, but Iwamoto simply kept going. He hummed happily at the sudden salty taste of Sakuma’s release on his tongue and made sure to swallow it all.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Iwamoto stood up and wandered towards the door. “Is there a kitchen or some food?” he asked.
Still somewhat out of breath, Sakuma replied, “Second door to the left. Help yourself to whatever you want, Fukka must have thought he was feeding an army.”
After rummaging through the kitchen for a while, Iwamoto called, “There isn’t even any curry. This is all riceballs and stuff you can eat with your fingers.”
Sakuma laughed and waved his bandaged hand. “Can’t hold chopsticks like this,” he reminded Iwamoto.
~~~
The third time Iwamoto changed the dressing on Sakuma’s hip, he decided to give in to curiosity and ask about the tattoos on the shorter man’s skin. Iwamoto’s fingers traced the outline of one of the sakura petal tattoos that were scattered all over Sakuma’s stomach and chest. “You’ve got a lot of these.”
“Yup! There’s one for every man I’ve killed,” Sakuma replied brightly. “I’ll be getting another three once I’m back in the city.”
Iwamoto had frozen at Sakuma’s words, but now he wrapped his fingers around Sakuma’s dick. “You’re too freaking cute to be a killer,” Iwamoto muttered, then quickly sucked the tip of Sakuma’s erection into his mouth before he could say anything else stupid.
This job wasn’t turning out as expected at all. Iwamoto wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d been hired to entertain a convalescing yakuza hitman, but it certainly hadn’t been this. The only thing that was even close to what he’d assumed was the amount of time he spent on his knees.
“So good,” Sakuma praised, toes curling at the pleasure, “so good, Hikaru.”
After four blowjobs, Iwamoto knew Sakuma’s sensitive spots quite well, so it didn’t take him long at all to get Sakuma off. He swallowed as was his habit, then rested his head against Sakuma’s thigh.
Sakuma brushed his fingertips over the bruise marring the left side of Iwamoto’s face. “How’d this happen?”
Iwamoto shrugged. “A yakuza boss wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I bit down on his dick. Nearly bit it off.”
“Habit of yours?” Sakuma asked lightly, but his eyes were serious. “Should I worry?”
Iwamoto’s laugh didn’t hold much humour. “You haven’t ordered your bodyguards to hold me down, now have you?”
Sakuma mapped the size of the bruise with gentle fingers. “How’d you get out of that?”
“I slugged the first bodyguard,” Iwamoto replied with a shrug. “The second got me good, but lucky for me that was the moment some of your colleagues raided the place.”
“Lucky indeed,” Sakuma murmured. Maiming a yakuza boss was usually a death warrant, unless that yakuza’s clan just happened to be in the middle of a feud. Getting protection from a rival clan was a stroke of luck.
~~~
“There’s only one bed, so I hope you aren’t shy.” Sakuma grinned up at Iwamoto.
Iwamoto laughed. “Do I look shy?” he asked, spinning slowly in place. Skintight black jeans encased long, long legs and a tight ass. A slender waist and wide, strong shoulders stood in sharp contrast, and all that smooth, warm skin was practically begging to be touched.
Eyes dark with lust, Sakuma rose to his feet, only to drop back down with a curse. “I’ll show you shy,” he promised, but then his smile turned rueful, “but that’ll have to wait until my hip’s better. Damn it.”
Getting Sakuma over to the bed involved quite a bit of hobbling and cursing, curses that turned to laughter when Iwamoto picked the shorter man up without a fuss and carried him the rest of the way. Sakuma fit surprisingly well into his arms, a thought that Iwamoto buried quickly - this was work and nothing more.
It turned out that Sakuma prefered to sleep naked, which suited Iwamoto. Equally naked, Iwamoto stretched out in the comfortable bed, but Sakuma kept fussing with two stacks of pillows. “Weird time for a pillow fort,” Iwamoto commented.
“It’s to keep me from rolling over onto my hip,” Sakuma replied with a grimace. His face was drawn with pain, the exertion of getting to the bed clearly having taken its toll.
“I’ve got a better idea.” Iwamoto pushed the pillow stacks aside and lay down on his side. “Here, I’ll spoon you, that way you can’t roll.”
Sakuma’s eyebrows rose at the suggestion, but he lay down on his good side without argument and sighed quietly when Iwamoto pressed close against his back.
~~~
“Do you want…” Iwamoto trailed off, food forgotten. While he’d been messing around in the kitchen, Sakuma had clearly gotten bored. Sword swishing through the air, Sakuma was moving gracefully, fighting imaginary opponents. The pink yukata and sharp sword should have been incongruous, but the serious look on Sakuma’s face made it work. For the first time, Iwamoto could truly imagine this short, cute guy killing people in cold blood.
Sakuma’s left leg suddenly gave out under him and he crashed to the floor. Cursing, Sakuma tried to push himself up with his hands, but as Iwamoto rushed over he could see that the bandage around Sakuma’s right hand was already red with blood.
Dropping to his knees next to Sakuma, Iwamoto cursed. The pink yukata hid most of it, but he would have sworn there was quite a bit of blood on Sakuma’s hip as well. “You need a keeper, not a whore,” Iwamoto told Sakuma while he picked the shorter man up. “Stay still or you’ll rip the rest of your stitches out.”
Head resting against Iwamoto’s shoulder, Sakuma sighed. “How much longer can I afford to be useless before someone gets killed?”
~~~
The sound of Sakuma’s cursing drew Iwamoto from the bathroom. While Iwamoto had been showering, Sakuma had tried to take one of his guns apart, but his right hand was still bandaged thickly and his fingers wouldn’t bend far enough to hold on to it properly.
“Can I help?” Iwamoto asked, rubbing the towel over his hair.
“Know anything about guns?”
Iwamoto shrugged. “I learn fast.”
Sakuma stared at him for a moment before coming to a decision. Gesturing for Iwamoto to sit down next to him, he slowly explained how to take the gun apart, how to clean the different parts, and how to put it back together.
~~~
Iwamoto grinned - staying passive and holding still clearly didn’t come naturally to Sakuma. Slowly, he lowered himself down onto Sakuma’s cock, taking it in one centimeter at a time. Sakuma’s right hand was lying on the sheets, the thick bandage very white against his tanned skin, but Sakuma’s left hand was holding on tight to Iwamoto’s thigh, fingers digging in deep.
Iwamoto didn’t sink the whole way down, stopping just short of touching Sakuma’s hips - better not to aggravate partly healed injuries by banging against them repeatedly. He squeezed tight, just to hear Sakuma groan. Putting his hands behind his head to show his body off to full advantage, Iwamoto rolled his hips, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on Sakuma’s face.
“I don’t know how much Date paid you,” Sakuma groaned, “but you’re worth every yen.”
~~~
The call of nature woke Iwamoto up. Yawning, Iwamoto didn’t bother trying to be quiet - if he sneaked around, that was more likely to wake Sakuma up. There was just enough light to find his way out of bed, down the hallway past several rooms full of crap and to the bathroom.
Business taken care of, he wandered to the kitchen for a quick snack. Keeping Sakuma entertained required a lot of energy and even though he swallowed most of the time, come really wasn’t all that nutritious. A sudden noise made him freeze. Was that the door?
Silently, Iwamoto moved back to the hallway. There! A shadow, moving steadily towards the bedroom where Sakuma was sleeping peacefully. Iwamoto looked around - he needed a weapon. Ducking into the nearest room full of crap, he felt around. His searching fingers closed around something cold and hard, which turned out to be reasonably heavy when he quietly picked it up.
Weapon held at the ready, he moved quickly, keeping as silent as possible. Illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the hallway windows, the dark figure was suddenly clearly visible, metal gleaming dangerously in his hand.
Heart beating crazily fast, Iwamoto charged forwards, his long legs closing the distance quickly. Raising his improvised weapon over his head, he slammed it down onto the intruder. The thing connected with a satisfying thud and the intruder crumpled to the floor.
That was weirdly anticlimactic. The only thing Iwamoto could hear was his blood rushing in his ears, adrenaline coursing through his veins. What now? Light. He needed to take a look at the intruder to figure out what to do next. Feeling along the wall, Iwamoto found the light switch and turned the light on.
The sudden brightness made him blink. Iwamoto’s eyes had gotten used to the dark, so the sudden light blinded him for a moment. Once he could see again he looked down. The intruder was dressed in dark clothes, with a mask over his head.
“Did you just brain a guy with a frying pan?” Sakuma asked, sounding amused.
Startled, Iwamoto looked up to see Sakuma leaning casually against the wall, a gun in each hand. “Uh, yeah,” Iwamoto replied, feeling suddenly foolish. “I thought you were asleep…”
~~~
After dropping the intruder’s corpse safely down the old well out back, Sakuma didn’t waste any time - they had been found and could stay no longer. He fitted his guns into their cases while Iwamoto packed their clothes and removed all signs of their stay.
Flexing his right hand, Sakuma shook his head. “You’ll have to drive,” he told Iwamoto. “My fingers aren’t up to gripping a steering wheel for several hours.”
Iwamoto loaded the guns and everything else into the car’s trunk in silence. He kept quiet during most of the drive back to the city too, except for a few times when he had to ask Sakuma for directions. By the time Iwamoto decided to speak, they were already back in Tokyo. “I guess this is goodbye.”
Sakuma glanced over at him. “Don’t be stupid.”
Iwamoto’s hands clenched around the steering wheel, the tension in his hands belying the casual shrug of his shoulders. “Your boss hired me to keep you entertained while you were hiding. You aren’t hiding anymore - my contract’s up now.”
The corner of Sakuma’s mouth twitched up. “I’ll ask him to keep you on for good.”
“As your fuckpiece?” Iwamoto asked, his voice carefully free of emotion.
The corner of Sakuma’s mouth twitched again. “If that’s what it takes.”
~~~
“You’re back early,” Miyadate commented, eyes flicking from Sakuma’s still bandaged hand to Iwamoto trailing behind him.
“We had a visitor,” Sakuma explained. “Can I see the boss?”
Miyadate nodded assent. “Leave your gun outside.”
With his hand half healed and bandaged up, Sakuma probably couldn’t aim well enough to be much of a danger to Watanabe, but he didn’t argue. He dropped both of the guns he was carrying on Miyadate’s desk before following the bodyguard.
Sakuma kept his report short, mostly because standing upright after sitting down for so long was hell on his hip. Watanabe didn’t need to hear all the details in any case - Sakuma would make a more detailed report to Fukazawa later. “And I’d like to hire Hikaru here as my apprentice,” Sakuma finished his report. “He’s a natural, he hit that guy first try before I even had a chance to shoot. Would be a waste to let that potential go to waste.”
Iwamoto opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, not that he knew what he wanted to say anyway, Sakuma’s elbow hit him in the stomach as Sakuma’s leg conveniently gave out under him. Iwamoto caught Sakuma before he could hit the floor.
Watanabe looked at Sakuma cradled in Iwamoto’s arms. “Teamwork is important,” he said brightly to Miyadate. “See to it he’s sworn in and all that jazz, Ryota.”
Swearing in, as Iwamoto soon found out, consisted merely of signing a contract with his blood, a quick oath to always do what was in the best interest of the clan and a friendly punch to the shoulder from Miyadate. “And that guy can teach you the code of the clan,” Miyadate finished up, pushing Iwamoto towards Sakuma. “You two stay out of sight for a bit longer while I tie up some loose ends, alright. Hole up in Daisuke’s apartment or something.”
Back out in the hallway, away from prying ears, Iwamoto hissed at Sakuma, “What’d you do that for? I hit a guy with a frying pan, what kind of qualification is that?!”
Sakuma grinned up at Iwamoto, entirely unbothered by Iwamoto’s panic. “I just thought you’d look hot with a gun.” Iwamoto spluttered and Sakuma laughed. “Relax, Hikaru. You can still be my fuckpiece, even if you learn to kill people.”
Beyond words, Iwamoto grabbed Sakuma and kissed him silly. Three months ago he wouldn’t have believed that within a few short weeks he would find love, kill someone, and radically change career paths. “You’re dangerous,” he murmured, hugging Sakuma tight.
Next up is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mousapelli
“Next time don’t get shot,” Fukazawa suggested, changing the dressing on the wound on Sakuma’s left hip, “then maybe you won’t have to hide out here until you go out of your mind with boredom.”
Out here was an old farm about as far from everywhere as you could get. After two days of this exile, Sakuma was thoroughly bored. With his leg and hip all banged up, he couldn’t move around well enough to go for a walk or do basically anything at all. He needed to practice, now more than ever - if the competition was desperate enough to use guns, he needed to be in top form to take them out.
“At least organize some company,” Sakuma sighed. He waved his bandaged right hand around. “I can’t even jerk it. There is just nothing to do around here.”
Of course the emptiness of the neighbourhood was the point - the farm had ostensibly been abandoned decades ago, though water and electricity worked. It was only occasionally used as a retreat, and while the inside of the building was kept clean and usable, the outside was deliberately neglected.
With the last dressing in place, Fukazawa took his leave. “I’ve got other work, but someone will be by later, so don’t do anything too stupid until then.”
~~~
“Yo.”
“Hey, Date-sama,” Sakuma greeted the newcomer. This was either really good news or really bad - Miyadate was the boss’s bodyguard, and it was an open secret that he did a lot more than guard Watanabe’s body. He rarely left Watanabe’s side unless it was important, especially in the middle of a war with a rival yakuza clan.
“I heard you were bored. Is getting shot twice not exciting enough anymore?”
“That was two days ago!” Sakuma replied, gesticulating with his left arm - it was just about the only part he could move freely without putting stress on any of his injuries. “I’m not even supposed to walk more than to the toilet and back.”
Miyadate shook his head. “Well, cheer up. I’ve brought you some entertainment.”
At a sign from Miyadate, Iwamoto walked into the room and Sakuma’s eyes widened slightly at the sight. Skintight black jeans that left nothing to the imagination and a leather collar were all that Iwamoto was wearing, leaving his wide shoulders bare. There were a number of piercings in his ears and a rather large bruise on one side of his face. Only the eyeliner and red lipstick hinted that he hadn’t been hired as muscle.
“As chance would have it, Hikaru here had to leave his previous place of employment in a bit of a hurry. He’ll keep you company for a while.” Miyadate turned to Iwamoto. “This idiot is supposed to be resting, so keep him on that couch. Don’t let him move his hips. Remember to change the dressings regularly.” Waving goodbye at Sakuma, Miyadate left, leaving the two of them alone.
Iwamoto grinned and stretched before sauntering over to Sakuma’s couch. Dropping smoothly to his knees, he reached for Sakuma’s yukata and opened it without asking for permission. He wasn’t particularly surprised to find that Sakuma wasn’t wearing any underwear - the piece of bandage he could see covering Sakuma’s hip was explanation enough.
Keeping his eyes on Sakuma, Iwamoto flicked the tip of his tongue over the head of Sakuma’s soft dick. When Sakuma made no move to stop him, Iwamoto wrapped his fingers around Sakuma’s dick to hold it up so that he could better lap at the tip. He worked it over with his tongue, licking up the underside, trailing around the head, teasing. Sakuma slowly hardened under his touch, groaning softly whenever Iwamoto did something he especially enjoyed.
“You’re that kind of entertainment, huh,” Sakuma commented, not exactly a question.
“Your boss paid me,” Iwamoto replied, licking a stripe up the length of Sakuma’s dick, “so just lie back and enjoy.”
Once Sakuma was fully hard, Iwamoto sucked him into his mouth. Sakuma’s dick was cute and not too big, just like Sakuma himself - a nice, funsized package. Sakuma’s uninjured left hand found its way into Iwamoto’s hair, tugging gently, but that only made Iwamoto move slower. He drew back until only the head of Sakuma’s dick was in his mouth, tonguing at the slit.
Iwamoto massaged Sakuma’s balls with gentle fingers, drawing sweet groans from him. “Damn, you’re good at this,” Sakuma praised, eyes fixed on Iwamoto’s red lips that were stretched around his dick. It took about all of Sakuma’s willpower not to thrust into Iwamoto’s eager mouth, but with his hip all banged up he really had no choice but to be satisfied with Iwamoto’s teasing pace.
Iwamoto soon sped up - he liked to tease, but aggravating Sakuma’s injuries by tempting him to move wasn’t part of his job. Besides, he liked to fit a whole dick into his mouth and Sakuma’s dick was just the right size for that, big enough that his mouth was pleasantly full but not so big that it would trigger his gag reflex.
Humming around Sakuma’s cock, Iwamoto bobbed his head, sucking his cheeks in and working his tongue whenever possible. Sakuma made encouraging noises, praising Iwamoto’s clever mouth, interspersed with occasional appreciative comments about Iwamoto’s broad shoulders and pierced ears.
It wasn’t all that long before Sakuma gasped a warning, but Iwamoto simply kept going. He hummed happily at the sudden salty taste of Sakuma’s release on his tongue and made sure to swallow it all.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Iwamoto stood up and wandered towards the door. “Is there a kitchen or some food?” he asked.
Still somewhat out of breath, Sakuma replied, “Second door to the left. Help yourself to whatever you want, Fukka must have thought he was feeding an army.”
After rummaging through the kitchen for a while, Iwamoto called, “There isn’t even any curry. This is all riceballs and stuff you can eat with your fingers.”
Sakuma laughed and waved his bandaged hand. “Can’t hold chopsticks like this,” he reminded Iwamoto.
~~~
The third time Iwamoto changed the dressing on Sakuma’s hip, he decided to give in to curiosity and ask about the tattoos on the shorter man’s skin. Iwamoto’s fingers traced the outline of one of the sakura petal tattoos that were scattered all over Sakuma’s stomach and chest. “You’ve got a lot of these.”
“Yup! There’s one for every man I’ve killed,” Sakuma replied brightly. “I’ll be getting another three once I’m back in the city.”
Iwamoto had frozen at Sakuma’s words, but now he wrapped his fingers around Sakuma’s dick. “You’re too freaking cute to be a killer,” Iwamoto muttered, then quickly sucked the tip of Sakuma’s erection into his mouth before he could say anything else stupid.
This job wasn’t turning out as expected at all. Iwamoto wasn’t sure what he’d expected when he’d been hired to entertain a convalescing yakuza hitman, but it certainly hadn’t been this. The only thing that was even close to what he’d assumed was the amount of time he spent on his knees.
“So good,” Sakuma praised, toes curling at the pleasure, “so good, Hikaru.”
After four blowjobs, Iwamoto knew Sakuma’s sensitive spots quite well, so it didn’t take him long at all to get Sakuma off. He swallowed as was his habit, then rested his head against Sakuma’s thigh.
Sakuma brushed his fingertips over the bruise marring the left side of Iwamoto’s face. “How’d this happen?”
Iwamoto shrugged. “A yakuza boss wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I bit down on his dick. Nearly bit it off.”
“Habit of yours?” Sakuma asked lightly, but his eyes were serious. “Should I worry?”
Iwamoto’s laugh didn’t hold much humour. “You haven’t ordered your bodyguards to hold me down, now have you?”
Sakuma mapped the size of the bruise with gentle fingers. “How’d you get out of that?”
“I slugged the first bodyguard,” Iwamoto replied with a shrug. “The second got me good, but lucky for me that was the moment some of your colleagues raided the place.”
“Lucky indeed,” Sakuma murmured. Maiming a yakuza boss was usually a death warrant, unless that yakuza’s clan just happened to be in the middle of a feud. Getting protection from a rival clan was a stroke of luck.
~~~
“There’s only one bed, so I hope you aren’t shy.” Sakuma grinned up at Iwamoto.
Iwamoto laughed. “Do I look shy?” he asked, spinning slowly in place. Skintight black jeans encased long, long legs and a tight ass. A slender waist and wide, strong shoulders stood in sharp contrast, and all that smooth, warm skin was practically begging to be touched.
Eyes dark with lust, Sakuma rose to his feet, only to drop back down with a curse. “I’ll show you shy,” he promised, but then his smile turned rueful, “but that’ll have to wait until my hip’s better. Damn it.”
Getting Sakuma over to the bed involved quite a bit of hobbling and cursing, curses that turned to laughter when Iwamoto picked the shorter man up without a fuss and carried him the rest of the way. Sakuma fit surprisingly well into his arms, a thought that Iwamoto buried quickly - this was work and nothing more.
It turned out that Sakuma prefered to sleep naked, which suited Iwamoto. Equally naked, Iwamoto stretched out in the comfortable bed, but Sakuma kept fussing with two stacks of pillows. “Weird time for a pillow fort,” Iwamoto commented.
“It’s to keep me from rolling over onto my hip,” Sakuma replied with a grimace. His face was drawn with pain, the exertion of getting to the bed clearly having taken its toll.
“I’ve got a better idea.” Iwamoto pushed the pillow stacks aside and lay down on his side. “Here, I’ll spoon you, that way you can’t roll.”
Sakuma’s eyebrows rose at the suggestion, but he lay down on his good side without argument and sighed quietly when Iwamoto pressed close against his back.
~~~
“Do you want…” Iwamoto trailed off, food forgotten. While he’d been messing around in the kitchen, Sakuma had clearly gotten bored. Sword swishing through the air, Sakuma was moving gracefully, fighting imaginary opponents. The pink yukata and sharp sword should have been incongruous, but the serious look on Sakuma’s face made it work. For the first time, Iwamoto could truly imagine this short, cute guy killing people in cold blood.
Sakuma’s left leg suddenly gave out under him and he crashed to the floor. Cursing, Sakuma tried to push himself up with his hands, but as Iwamoto rushed over he could see that the bandage around Sakuma’s right hand was already red with blood.
Dropping to his knees next to Sakuma, Iwamoto cursed. The pink yukata hid most of it, but he would have sworn there was quite a bit of blood on Sakuma’s hip as well. “You need a keeper, not a whore,” Iwamoto told Sakuma while he picked the shorter man up. “Stay still or you’ll rip the rest of your stitches out.”
Head resting against Iwamoto’s shoulder, Sakuma sighed. “How much longer can I afford to be useless before someone gets killed?”
~~~
The sound of Sakuma’s cursing drew Iwamoto from the bathroom. While Iwamoto had been showering, Sakuma had tried to take one of his guns apart, but his right hand was still bandaged thickly and his fingers wouldn’t bend far enough to hold on to it properly.
“Can I help?” Iwamoto asked, rubbing the towel over his hair.
“Know anything about guns?”
Iwamoto shrugged. “I learn fast.”
Sakuma stared at him for a moment before coming to a decision. Gesturing for Iwamoto to sit down next to him, he slowly explained how to take the gun apart, how to clean the different parts, and how to put it back together.
~~~
Iwamoto grinned - staying passive and holding still clearly didn’t come naturally to Sakuma. Slowly, he lowered himself down onto Sakuma’s cock, taking it in one centimeter at a time. Sakuma’s right hand was lying on the sheets, the thick bandage very white against his tanned skin, but Sakuma’s left hand was holding on tight to Iwamoto’s thigh, fingers digging in deep.
Iwamoto didn’t sink the whole way down, stopping just short of touching Sakuma’s hips - better not to aggravate partly healed injuries by banging against them repeatedly. He squeezed tight, just to hear Sakuma groan. Putting his hands behind his head to show his body off to full advantage, Iwamoto rolled his hips, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on Sakuma’s face.
“I don’t know how much Date paid you,” Sakuma groaned, “but you’re worth every yen.”
~~~
The call of nature woke Iwamoto up. Yawning, Iwamoto didn’t bother trying to be quiet - if he sneaked around, that was more likely to wake Sakuma up. There was just enough light to find his way out of bed, down the hallway past several rooms full of crap and to the bathroom.
Business taken care of, he wandered to the kitchen for a quick snack. Keeping Sakuma entertained required a lot of energy and even though he swallowed most of the time, come really wasn’t all that nutritious. A sudden noise made him freeze. Was that the door?
Silently, Iwamoto moved back to the hallway. There! A shadow, moving steadily towards the bedroom where Sakuma was sleeping peacefully. Iwamoto looked around - he needed a weapon. Ducking into the nearest room full of crap, he felt around. His searching fingers closed around something cold and hard, which turned out to be reasonably heavy when he quietly picked it up.
Weapon held at the ready, he moved quickly, keeping as silent as possible. Illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the hallway windows, the dark figure was suddenly clearly visible, metal gleaming dangerously in his hand.
Heart beating crazily fast, Iwamoto charged forwards, his long legs closing the distance quickly. Raising his improvised weapon over his head, he slammed it down onto the intruder. The thing connected with a satisfying thud and the intruder crumpled to the floor.
That was weirdly anticlimactic. The only thing Iwamoto could hear was his blood rushing in his ears, adrenaline coursing through his veins. What now? Light. He needed to take a look at the intruder to figure out what to do next. Feeling along the wall, Iwamoto found the light switch and turned the light on.
The sudden brightness made him blink. Iwamoto’s eyes had gotten used to the dark, so the sudden light blinded him for a moment. Once he could see again he looked down. The intruder was dressed in dark clothes, with a mask over his head.
“Did you just brain a guy with a frying pan?” Sakuma asked, sounding amused.
Startled, Iwamoto looked up to see Sakuma leaning casually against the wall, a gun in each hand. “Uh, yeah,” Iwamoto replied, feeling suddenly foolish. “I thought you were asleep…”
~~~
After dropping the intruder’s corpse safely down the old well out back, Sakuma didn’t waste any time - they had been found and could stay no longer. He fitted his guns into their cases while Iwamoto packed their clothes and removed all signs of their stay.
Flexing his right hand, Sakuma shook his head. “You’ll have to drive,” he told Iwamoto. “My fingers aren’t up to gripping a steering wheel for several hours.”
Iwamoto loaded the guns and everything else into the car’s trunk in silence. He kept quiet during most of the drive back to the city too, except for a few times when he had to ask Sakuma for directions. By the time Iwamoto decided to speak, they were already back in Tokyo. “I guess this is goodbye.”
Sakuma glanced over at him. “Don’t be stupid.”
Iwamoto’s hands clenched around the steering wheel, the tension in his hands belying the casual shrug of his shoulders. “Your boss hired me to keep you entertained while you were hiding. You aren’t hiding anymore - my contract’s up now.”
The corner of Sakuma’s mouth twitched up. “I’ll ask him to keep you on for good.”
“As your fuckpiece?” Iwamoto asked, his voice carefully free of emotion.
The corner of Sakuma’s mouth twitched again. “If that’s what it takes.”
~~~
“You’re back early,” Miyadate commented, eyes flicking from Sakuma’s still bandaged hand to Iwamoto trailing behind him.
“We had a visitor,” Sakuma explained. “Can I see the boss?”
Miyadate nodded assent. “Leave your gun outside.”
With his hand half healed and bandaged up, Sakuma probably couldn’t aim well enough to be much of a danger to Watanabe, but he didn’t argue. He dropped both of the guns he was carrying on Miyadate’s desk before following the bodyguard.
Sakuma kept his report short, mostly because standing upright after sitting down for so long was hell on his hip. Watanabe didn’t need to hear all the details in any case - Sakuma would make a more detailed report to Fukazawa later. “And I’d like to hire Hikaru here as my apprentice,” Sakuma finished his report. “He’s a natural, he hit that guy first try before I even had a chance to shoot. Would be a waste to let that potential go to waste.”
Iwamoto opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, not that he knew what he wanted to say anyway, Sakuma’s elbow hit him in the stomach as Sakuma’s leg conveniently gave out under him. Iwamoto caught Sakuma before he could hit the floor.
Watanabe looked at Sakuma cradled in Iwamoto’s arms. “Teamwork is important,” he said brightly to Miyadate. “See to it he’s sworn in and all that jazz, Ryota.”
Swearing in, as Iwamoto soon found out, consisted merely of signing a contract with his blood, a quick oath to always do what was in the best interest of the clan and a friendly punch to the shoulder from Miyadate. “And that guy can teach you the code of the clan,” Miyadate finished up, pushing Iwamoto towards Sakuma. “You two stay out of sight for a bit longer while I tie up some loose ends, alright. Hole up in Daisuke’s apartment or something.”
Back out in the hallway, away from prying ears, Iwamoto hissed at Sakuma, “What’d you do that for? I hit a guy with a frying pan, what kind of qualification is that?!”
Sakuma grinned up at Iwamoto, entirely unbothered by Iwamoto’s panic. “I just thought you’d look hot with a gun.” Iwamoto spluttered and Sakuma laughed. “Relax, Hikaru. You can still be my fuckpiece, even if you learn to kill people.”
Beyond words, Iwamoto grabbed Sakuma and kissed him silly. Three months ago he wouldn’t have believed that within a few short weeks he would find love, kill someone, and radically change career paths. “You’re dangerous,” he murmured, hugging Sakuma tight.
Next up is
mousapelli
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Awww, he carried Sakuma to bed~ And the spooning~ >w< Love it~~ Boss Watanabe though~ Sounds hootttt~ Great fic! Please write more on this AU! :DDDD
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I like that Sakuma kills people. XD
wait that sounded creepy
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plus boss nabesho. ohhhhhhh yeah, mmm. I'm glad you finished this~
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Thanks!