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Atsushi gripped the railing with both hands, leaned half over it to see where his opponent fell. The ability user was gone, out of sight completely—but he had not hit the ground. Atsushi was about to vault the catwalk railing and follow his target when a thick black tendril shot out of the darkness, wrapped around his waist, and yanked him back over.
He hit the metal grating on his shoulder, grunting at the impact, and rolled to his feet immediately, jumping back as Rashomon vanished into the shadows of the old warehouse. “Akutagawa!” Atsushi yelled, hands balled into fists and in no mood for interference from the Port Mafia today.
After a moment Akutagawa himself resolved from the shadows at the far end of the catwalk, one hand delicately angled over the lower portion of his face. Atsushi hadn’t even sensed his presence here, so focused on the ability user that had rabbited, and now was in equal measures angry with himself and angry at the interruption. “He got away because of you!”
Rashomon rippled along Akutagawa’s shoulders, the faint shimmer of infinite darkness shot through with red, and as Atsushi watched a second tendril of the ability emerged from around the bottom of the catwalk—hoisting the fugitive ability user, skewered through the shoulder by the knife-edge of the ability.
Akutagawa dangled his prey between them, the man clearly still alive but not in the greatest condition. “Care to revise your previous statement, weretiger?” Akutagawa said idly, and Atsushi scowled at him, pointing at the captive angrily.
“That’s not acceptable!”
“He is alive, is he not? If you would prefer otherwise—” a bladed tendril of Rashomon approached the man’s neck, and Atsushi spread his hands in exasperation.
“Stop that, I need him alive. I mean it!” The bladed tendril withdrew reluctantly into Akutagawa’s coat. “What the hell are you even doing here? Are you stalking me now? I’m on a job!”
Without moving the skewered ability user, Akutagawa stepped onto the catwalk, closer to Atsushi. Rashomon rippled off his coat again, multiple tendrils this time. “Prepare yourself, weretiger,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi’s spread hands became claws.
What neither of them anticipated was the ability user twisting on Rashomon’s tendril, bracing his feet on the railing and, eyes glowing pink, blasting what looked like petal blossoms out in a whirling vortex. Atsushi leapt backward without even thinking about it, avoiding the entire ability explosion. Akutagawa on the other hand shielded himself with Rashomon, the ability forming a wall between himself and the petals.
By the time the ability hurricane cleared, the ability user was gone.
Atsushi groaned, leaning over the railing once more. This time he had no idea if the man went down, or went up, or even if he had just dissolved into petals and vanished on the spot. “Great,” Atsushi glared over at Akutagawa. “Thanks for the help,” he snorted, sarcasm dripping from his tone—but then he hesitated, as Akutagawa had fallen to one knee, his hand bunched in the fabric of his coat on his chest and eyes downcast. “Akutagawa?” Akutagawa’s head snapped up at being addressed, and he was on his feet quickly. Atsushi turned to face him, scowl turning into a frown. “You alright?”
“Fine,” Akutagawa’s voice didn’t sound fine, weirdly coarse. “Stay there.”
Yeah, that didn’t sound ‘fine’ at all. “Did you get hit by the ability?” Atsushi started down the catwalk toward him, and Rashomon moved first, slamming down between them and making Atsushi skip backward again.
“I said, stay back!”
Akutagawa was on his knees again, this time with one hand curled onto the metal grating underneath their feet. Even from here Atsushi could see that he was breathing raggedly, nearly panting. Atsushi moved forward quickly, and this time Akutagawa was too distracted to wield Rashomon at him, allowing Atsushi into his personal space. “What’s—” Atsushi started to ask, palm dropping to Akutagawa’s shoulder, and Akutagawa reacted like his touch was a live wire, jerking away.
Rashomon erupted in full form, slamming Atsushi flat onto his back on the catwalk, pinning him at the waist and throat. Atsushi’s tiger-paws wrapped around the tendril putting pressure on his neck, snarling in response to the sudden attack.
“Don’t touch me,” Akutagawa hissed, staggering to his feet. Atsushi’s eyes focused past Rashomon, on him—and Akutagawa’s face had gone scarlet, flushed bright under the dim warehouse lighting.
“Akutagawa, let me up,” Atsushi growled, mouth full of teeth far sharper than normal. “Now!”
“I can’t,” Akutagawa leaned against the railing, one hand on it and the other still clutching his chest. “I can’t, weretiger, I’ll just…” he exhaled, and then laughed, brokenly. “Fuck,” he said, almost a whisper. “What was that bastard’s ability?”
“Don’t know,” Atsushi grunted, all his strength and focus on Rashomon. “That was…that was part of the job, assessing his threat level.” Another Rashomon tendril shot out and pinned his left wrist to the metal grating beside his head, and Atsushi’s responding snarl was more animal than human. “It did hit you! What’d it do?”
Atsushi twisted his head, but Akutagawa’s face was tilted down, expression shadowed. He knew Akutagawa well enough by now to know that he was considering something. “Don’t strain yourself,” Atsushi snapped, and Rashomon reacted to the sarcasm, pressing down on his throat in annoyance before letting up and allowing Atsushi to gasp for air. “Akutagawa!”
Akutagawa walked slowly to him, each footfall echoing heavily on the catwalk. His hand was covering the lower portion of his face again, and he was watching Atsushi over his hand with those dark, inscrutable eyes…eyes that now, inexplicably, looked hungry.
“Weretiger,” Akutagawa said heavily. He heaved out a large sigh and then dropped to his knees on the grating beside Atsushi. Atsushi craned his neck and, surprisingly, Rashomon released his throat—but not his waist nor his wrist.
Atsushi pulled at the Rashomon tendril holding his wrist hostage, one eye on Akutagawa kneeling beside him. “You’re acting really, really weird,” he said, and Akutagawa leaned forward, pressing his palm against the front of Atsushi’s trousers. Atsushi jumped at the contact, and his voice went a full octave higher. “You have to be KIDDING ME, AKUTAGAWA—!”
Akutagawa’s fingers were wrapping around his length from the outside, feeling out the shape of him in his underwear, and Atsushi gulped air. “I can’t explain it,” Akutagawa said through gritted teeth, and the way his brows were drawn together very clearly illustrated how unenthusiastic he was about what he was doing right this very second, “but I, I need this.” He swallowed loudly. “Now.”
“This is the ability.” Atsushi’s eyes were fixed on the ceiling of the warehouse, not that far above them. “It’s gotta be the ability, right?”
“Idiot,” Akutagawa hissed at him, punctuating with another squeeze of his no-longer-quite-flaccid length. “Of course it’s the fucking ability, weretiger.” He didn’t lift his hand. “Or do you think I would be so taken with you I felt the need to do this, here?”
“I don’t know,” Atsushi snapped, “I have no idea what fucking kinks you have.”
Akutagawa’s face went scarlet, darker than the flush that the ability had painted on his features. Atsushi laughed recklessly as Akutagawa threw his leg over Atsushi’s midsection, straddling him and slamming his hands down on either side of Atsushi’s head. “My kinks,” Akutagawa snarled, chest heaving, “are none of your concern.”
“Your kinks are one hundred percent my concern when you’re fucking straddling me!”
Akutagawa stared down at him, still visibly panting. “Fine. I can avail myself of someone else,” he said, his voice low. “It doesn’t have to be you.” He started to push off Atsushi and Atsushi’s free hand caught Akutagawa by his cravat, stopping him.
“You can barely put your thoughts together,” Atsushi said, not looking directly at Akutagawa. “It’s just…easier to deal with it right now, right? I mean, what happens if you look at someone else and can’t pull yourself back or something, so just, ugh, fucking get it over with. I can handle it. I won’t stop you.”
Silence from Akutagawa brought Atsushi’s gaze back to him. He was just staring at Atsushi now, brow furrowed as if he were stuck on a problem he couldn’t quite solve. Atsushi groaned and smacked his head back into the metal grating of the catwalk. To his surprise, Rashomon evaporated, the tendrils of Akutagawa’s ability vanishing back into his coat. Atsushi shifted then, pushing himself up on his elbows and that movement seemed to startle Akutagawa out of his flushed-face trance.
Atsushi couldn’t help that his breath had quickened too, this miasma between them was so thick it felt like it could suffocate him. Akutagawa’s weight straddling him was…a lot, and he really didn’t like the way it created a burning sensation in his chest, weirdly bright and warm. “Akutagawa,” he said, and Akutagawa slid his weight back, straddled Atsushi’s legs, and put his hands back over Atsushi’s now much more interested lower half.
He could end this at any point, Atsushi told himself as Akutagawa pulled his pants open. He could, but he wouldn’t, because he meant what he said about handling it; he could handle Akutagawa in a fight, so this should be a piece of cake. Atsushi gritted his teeth and exhaled, fighting the shiver that shot up his spine as Akutagawa finally extricated him from both his pants and underwear.
Having Akutagawa’s hand on him there was wild. It felt so good, his grip just tight enough to slide up and down the shaft easily, and as he watched, propped up on his elbows, Akutagawa dipped his head, tucked his hair behind his ear and wrapped his mouth around the head of Atsushi’s cock.
Atsushi’s shoulder blades hit the catwalk and his hips went up, seeking entry into the oven of heat that was Akutagawa’s mouth—Rashomon slammed his hips back down and Akutagawa retched, coughed, and covered his mouth with the back of his hand, attempting to stifle more coughing. “Weretiger,” he snarled, as he got the coughing under control.
“Sorry, sorry,” Atsushi chanted, eyes wide and staring past the ceiling because that went beyond regular masturbation fast. He startled when Rashomon weaved over his legs and waist again, and he pushed up on his elbows once more to snap at Akutagawa, only to realize that this time he’d used his pants to fuel Rashomon, and Atsushi stared, wide-eyed, at Akutagawa’s bared legs.
He was stick-thin, which really wasn’t that much of a surprise to Atsushi, but he was so pale. He watched silently as Akutagawa shifted, rose to his feet to delicately step out of his underwear, and Atsushi couldn’t help be weirdly amused by Akutagawa in his ruffled shirt, and coat, and nothing else.
He realized, suddenly, that he wasn’t entirely certain what was about to happen.
“Don’t we, uh,” Atsushi swallowed, watching Akutagawa move, eyes drawn to the space between his legs, the head of his cock bright red and peeking out from underneath the ruffled hem of his shirt, “need lube, or something? I mean, I don’t think spit’s gonna be enough….”
“It’s fine,” Akutagawa said, and Atsushi started to sit up, realized that Rashomon wasn’t going to let him and then was distracted entirely by Akutagawa straddling him again.
“No, it’s not fine,” Atsushi argued right back. “I might not know that much about this, but I did read Yosano-san’s pamphlets because she wouldn’t leave me alone about it for some reason, and I know—”
Akutagawa was giving him a look, and Atsushi met his expression with a glare. “It’s fine,” Akutagawa growled, and as Atsushi opened his mouth to argue further Akutagawa grabbed his arm by the wrist and yanked him forward, pressing his hand against—oh, oh god.
Atsushi gulped as Akutagawa pushed his hand down under his balls, between his legs and over the rim of his asshole. Atsushi was barely pressing it with the pads of his fingers, and they went right in, enveloped in soft, slick heat. That sensation alone got Atsushi harder than he’d ever been, and with Rashomon loosening its hold he leaned forward, put his other hand on Akutagawa’s bare thigh, and pushed his fingers up inside him.
Akutagawa dropped his arms over Atsushi’s shoulders, and Atsushi could feel him trembling as he fucked Akutagawa with his fingers. He was so soft and yet tight, clamping down on Atsushi’s fingers as he pushed a third one inside, delighting at the sensation. “See?” Akutagawa said, his breath scraping against Atsushi’s ear. “The ability…eases things.”
“The ability did this to you?” Atsushi said, amazed, nearly taken away by the intoxicating feel of him. He wanted more, and deeper, but his fingers only went so far. He wet his lips, focused, and gently pulled his fingers free.
Akutagawa made a small, bereft noise at the loss, face tucked against the side of Atsushi’s head. Atsushi was focused now, hands pushing and lifting Akutagawa’s coat, finding his hips, angling him down onto Atsushi’s lap and letting out a breath between his teeth as his cockhead pushed against the underside of Akutagawa’s balls. “Fuck,” Atsushi murmured, driving blind, and Akutagawa shifted, slid his hand down between them and angled him correctly, pushing Atsushi’s cock against his ass.
He slipped in effortlessly.
Akutagawa tensed slightly, the arm over Atsushi’s shoulders tightening, fingers digging into the tattered remains of his collared shirt. He sank down Atsushi’s cock, and with every hitched breath he slid just a bit lower until he was all in; Atsushi’s mind went blank with the feel of him.
They were both panting through open mouths, locked together, hearts beating in tandem. Akutagawa’s fingers curled into the torn edge of Atsushi’s shirt sleeve, he swallowed and said roughly, “are you going to come just like this, weretiger, or will you fuck me properly?”
Atsushi gripped Akutagawa’s hips and thrust up. Akutagawa let out a surprised noise, cheek pressed to Atsushi’s, and then rumbled in satisfaction as Atsushi continued to roll his hips, feeling out a rhythm he somehow knew intimately.
His mind was empty of everything except the warm body in his lap, the heat enveloping him, drawing him deeper with each thrust; Akutagawa grunting and panting into his ear with each movement. He regretted, suddenly, not seeing Akutagawa’s face but couldn’t shift them, too focused on a singular goal and his pace grew stuttered, erratic.
“Come on,” Akutagawa’s voice was a low rumble, directly into his ear. “Show me that famous weretiger stamina, Nakajima Atsushi.”
Atsushi surged forward, lifting Akutagawa off his lap effortlessly and slamming him onto his back hard enough that the metal walkway shook. Akutagawa rolled, lifting his hips already as Atsushi caught him by the back of his thighs, spreading his legs and sliding smoothly back inside.
Akutagawa dug his head into the ground, reaching blindly for Atsushi and arching his back as his cock jerked against his belly, spilling long lines of pearly white against his skin and into his shirt.
“Holy shit,” Atsushi breathed, hanging over Akutagawa and still buried between his legs. He slid his hand from Akutagawa’s bare hip up to his belly, smearing the sticky fluid into his skin, and felt Akutagawa tighten on him again. He swallowed hard.
“Keep going,” Akutagawa croaked at him without opening his eyes. “I need…inside….”
Atsushi panted, staring down at Akutagawa; he shifted and tilted forward, bracing his weight on one palm beside Akutagawa’s head. Akutagawa’s eyes were still closed, breathing hoarsely through his open mouth, sweat shining in his hair and on his face and Atsushi was lost in it all.
Akutagawa wrapped his legs around Atsushi’s hips and squeezed until he finally started to move again, still watching Akutagawa’s face intently, drowning in it until it overwhelmed him. Atsushi fell to his elbows, hanging his head and eyes closed tight as he toppled over the edge, unaware that Akutagawa, now, was watching him with the same scrutiny.
Atsushi lay on his side, shoulder to the metal grating and dick laying soft against his thigh, slick and staining his pants. He was only half-present now, which was better than unconscious. Somehow though, Akutagawa had maneuvered himself free while Atsushi was still completely checked out.
He watched as Akutagawa unsteadily pulled his pants up and fastened them carefully. “Better?” Atsushi asked, and Akutagawa glanced at him in surprise and then looked away, cheeks visibly pink.
“The ability’s effects have been quelled,” Akutagawa said gruffly. Rashomon rippled along his coat—but he hesitated and looked over his shoulder at Atsushi again, before looking again. “Your assistance was…appreciated.”
Then just like that he was gone, absorbed into the darkness using Rashomon, quicker than Atsushi even cared to follow. “You’re welcome!” Atsushi shouted after him, and then dropped onto his back, still breathing hard. He really didn’t like the way his stomach clenched when he watched Akutagawa leave, and he absolutely refused to acknowledge a single emotion burbling in his chest right now.
As he considered exactly what he was going to tell Kunikida about how the ability user got away and what his ability was, there was a soft chirp in his ear. “Ah,” Dazai’s voice said. “Are you two finally done? I have to say I am impressed, Atsushi-kun—”
Eyes wide in sudden horror, Atsushi ripped the long-forgotten earpiece out of his ear and flung it as far away as he could manage, before thumping his head back into the grating and covering his face with both hands. “No,” he said. “No, no, no, no.” Not only did he just lose his virginity to his mortal fucking enemy, but Dazai-san heard the entire thing? “I’m going to mail myself to Peru.”
After a long moment of digging both his palms into his eyes, Atsushi sighed, shuffled to his feet and tucked himself away. He would have to face the music eventually, and, maybe if he was lucky, Dazai would be considerate enough not to tell the entire office.
He wasn’t counting on it.