Archive of Our Own

Doppo hunched over the wooden counter to make himself smaller.

It just didn’t work like that.

Behind him, people swung to the music under strings of lights and layers of heat and sweat. On other side of the bar, an array of bartenders juggled with glasses of all shapes and sizes, and filled them with booze of all smells and colors.

Beneath his gaze, the screen of his phone read three a.m. and thirty percent battery left before he snapped it shut and shoved it into his pants pocket.

Doppo could think of a couple of things to do rather than engage in the local nightlife, but no matter how worn out his body was, it knew to switch on autopilot when faced with Hifumi’s unswerving and stupidly charming insistence.

At least Hifumi was thoughtful enough to let Doppo shower and throw on some clean jeans and the first t-shirt he found — black, like his soul.

Walking through the doors of this one discotheque surrounded by a horde of men whose faces he’d only seen in snaps on Hifumi’s phone had felt a bit surreal, like watching a live documentary of exotic birds prancing around the dance floor like they had found their place in the world, all good-looking and looking good, sprightly and full of life.

The idea of being associated with them was almost comedic.

But in the middle of it all was Doppo, corporate slave by day and unwillingly designated chaperone by night.

The host club Hifumi worked at had reached customer number Doppo-didn’t-remember. Even though Doppo had no place here, Hifumi always found a way to drag him out of his comfort zone, and Doppo scarcely found the energy to fight him. As much as he loved Hifumi, though, he would have preferred them all not to end up cramped up at the bar. Therefore, when they finished up their drinks and Hifumi was happily dragged somewhere into the dance floor by his colleagues, despite the blonde reaching out a hand to Doppo, Doppo let his best friend go with a tired wave of his own.

The illusory sense of solitude that sprouted afterward was welcome.

He could survive the night without his friend; he trusted the fifteen-minute nap he’d taken against Hifumi’s side in the taxi’s backseat to be enough to get him by for the next four, five hours. It couldn’t be that bad. In fact, it could be a lot worse than having only two intoxicated people staggering into him so far.

The music? It wasn’t blasting where he was and he didn’t feel a headache looming behind his eyes yet, even though he knew the noise would follow him when he stepped out into the streets and keep ringing in his ears when he crawled to his bed.

At least there was decent gap between himself and the first wall of people wobbling in the dance floor. Moreover, the strategically placed speakers allowed him to ask the bartender to have his glass refilled without screaming his lungs out.

As if.

He looked down—

“...”

—and scrunched up his nose in disgust as he raised his full glass to his face, his tongue heavy and rough against his dry palate.

Ah, he couldn’t do it, after all.

It hadn’t crossed his mind that expensive could taste so bad. He should have just stuck with what he knew he liked. Now the bartender was serving someone else, probably — no, definitely — a patron that was actually worth working for. What was Doppo going to tell him, anyway? That their most expensive booze tasted like shit? He’d even had Hifumi pay for both their drinks, in atonement for dragging Doppo into his occurrences without so much as letting Doppo check if he’d brought his wallet with him — he didn’t. He really was the worst. He didn’t deserve Hifumi’s or anyone’s attention—

“Oh?”

But attention somehow came to him in the form of a voice.

“Fancy meeting you here, Kannonzaka-san.”

Not just any voice. Hearing it with the rowdy crowd at his back — rather than in a pristine government corridor with other divisions around — caused a particular influx of memories to rush back to the front of Doppo’s mind. Despite the amicable exchanges between them, some voices had been just too close to Doppo’s ears, too full of intent, too loud and high, that they had naturally imprinted themselves in the deepest corner of his memory, right next to the area of his brain that kept him roused and awake.

Doppo put his glass down and raised his head.

Jyuto. “Iruma-san?” The honorific always came out naturally, because despite everything, some things felt exactly the same as they were before.

Jyuto offered him a small smile. Polite, even.

“I didn’t peg you as the type to come to a place like this.”

Doppo didn’t say anything, his mind still catching up to Iruma Jyuto taking the stool next to him.

“But,” Jyuto went on without meeting his eyes, “I’ve been wrong before.”

Aha.

Doppo stayed silent, watching Jyuto keep his lips into a relaxed smile as he hooked two black-gloved fingers in his rolled-up sleeve, tugging it up his elbows a little so he could lean his forearms over the counter with ease.

It was hard to tell exactly, but even with the artificial lightning above them dusting their bodies with a pink tinge, Doppo thought he could see several marks slashing across his arms. He hadn’t noticed them before, but then again, they hadn’t met enough times for him to do so.

He wondered which ones had been his doing.

It had been less than a month, but every syllable Jyuto relished carving and bruising into Doppo’s body suddenly felt as fresh as the ice in his glass.

Suddenly, Doppo realized that without his teammates and friends around, trying to come up with something to say that didn’t involve territory battles was starting to feel a bit… complicated?

When he dragged his gaze back up, Jyuto was looking at him. As if knowing what Doppo saw, those sharp eyes flicked down to Doppo’s bare arms.

“They’re healing beautifully as well.”

“E-excuse me?” Doppo sputtered.

Doppo instinctively moved a hand over his opposite arm, his nails grazing lightly over the ridged lines of skin, stupidly aware that he wouldn’t be able to cover anything at all. But he didn’t really care about them, honestly, not when he’d kicked — screamed — back with the same intensity, the proof scattered beneath both Fling Posse’s Dead or Alive and this man’s clothes. Probably.

“Ah, my bad.” Jyuto looked away. “It was just an observation.”

“I-it’s fine,” Doppo offered, turning back to the bar as well, but keeping his eyes on Jyuto. There were quite a few things he could make out from where he was sitting, like the very tiny polka dots adorning Jyuto’s dark shirt, which was tucked into black slacks — or so Doppo assumed as he squinted, because he wasn’t sure he could tell leg apart from shadow.

He dropped his hand to his thigh, feeling his jeans against his fingers. Unlike him, Jyuto blended well into the crowd.

The chances of running into Mad Trigger Crew’s second here were the same as the chances of Mad Trigger Crew’s 45 Rabbit being one of the cops that Doppo had interacted with in his life prior to his joining Matenrou. Low. Not impossible, but unlikely. Maybe that was why Jyuto had the guts to show up in a nightclub in Shinjuku of all places, without worrying about being recognized.

Well, Hifumi was still out there, and if no one had jumped at him or Jyuto — surprisingly — or Doppo — who would? — he supposed it was fine.

“So,” Jyuto said after a pensive moment, “how’s life been treating you?”

Doppo blinked at him. That would have come out of nowhere if Doppo hadn’t caught himself and seen Jyuto’s expression before opening his mouth. Doppo was surprisingly good at that observing thing, too. Sensei had praised him for that in the past, so Doppo wanted to believe he had it in him.

Experience had taught him that being around Hifumi, whether as a powerless kid or as a — not much different, really — adult, Hifumi’s friendship came with having to cover for his lightheartedness and spontaneity. It had kept him alert. Life had kept him on a leash. So, when he couldn’t act, because he couldn’t act, he could only watch. And as Jyuto kept his gaze trained to the bar, he looked the most solemn Doppo had ever seen him.

Life. Life after their battle, he meant.

Doppo tried his best not to stammer as he simply said, “Good.” There was a long way before Sensei could materialize his wishes for humanity, but the past victory had been a solid step for them into making the world hear what they had to say. “Better than expected.” They were granted a big opportunity, the same Jyuto and many others so badly wanted. “I… I’m really grateful.”

“Hm.” Jyuto hummed, and Doppo was surprised to see a small lift on the corner of his lips. “Is that so?”

Jyuto then went on to order something Doppo didn’t register, and then his next movement was swift and barely there, his long, gloved fingers moving up his neck, hooking in his collar and tugging.

He quickly rested his hand back on the counter, but Doppo’s eyes lingered on the glint of the thin chain connecting the circles — not triangles — pinned on the lapels of his collar.

Ah. He remembered.

Last time he saw Jyuto, that poor thing hanging from his collar had been the first to go, practically bursting into tiny pieces right before their eyes — a trifling detail compared to the hell they had unleashed afterward, really. But when the frenzy had settled down and Doppo had reached his hotel room, thrown himself onto the bed and looped his hands around his neck, he’d found the tiny, metallic remains of something gold sticking to the sweat of his skin.

It made him wonder if Jyuto had inadvertently taken something of his as well.

He’d wanted to sleep, but the adrenaline was still cursing through his veins, shaking his body into action even long after their confrontation had been over. In the end, he’d been unable to keep himself from reveling a little in the memory of Jyuto’s finesse losing its shine with every rhyme that left Doppo’s mouth, because it was hard to shake the image of Jyuto deprived of his faux, poised constitution from his mind when the realization of Doppo having been the one who caused it weighed so heavily on his ego.

“Thinking something good?”

When Doppo blinked up at Jyuto, the man was sporting a small smile, as if sharing Doppo’s sentiment but for a whole different reason.

At Doppo’s puzzled face, Jyuto gave him a curious look, one of his perfect eyebrows quirking up.

“You’re smiling.”

It wasn’t until Doppo felt the corner of his lips relax that he became aware of the smile stretching them, weighing painfully on his cheeks before dying down.

“A-ah, I’m sorry.” Doppo barely managed to keep his mind from spinning in circles as he quickly turned back to the front. He glanced at Jyuto from the corner of his eye, hoping to divert the attention from himself. “Um, why are you here, Iruma-san?”

Jyuto’s lips only curled up further, seemingly finding his reaction amusing. “Business,” was all he said as he straightened up and took a quick sip of his drink, so delicately it was almost laughable.

Doppo looked down. Business, right. “I see,” he said, idly running a finger along the edge of his own glass.

“What about you?”

“Ah. Not business, definitely.” Doppo shook his head feebly.

“Then, for fun?”

“N-no, not really...”

He heard Jyuto hum. “That’s a shame.”

Those words sounded so much like pity, but as Doppo sought Jyuto’s eyes, he couldn’t find any in the way Jyuto was resting his chin comfortably against his knuckles and returning his gaze in silence, like he wasn’t expecting an answer. There was nothing Doppo could reply to what he’d said, anyway.

“Y-yeah, well...”

That confident look of his was both soothing and confusing, but when was Jyuto not looking like he knew who in this place was a bully in school.

“I see fame hasn’t changed you at all. I’m glad.”

Doppo’s eyes widened. He waited. And waited. And when Jyuto didn’t say more, he decided he was probably better off saying something himself and swallowed thickly, wincing at the reminder of how dry his mouth was.

“I think it’s too early...” he managed through his parched lips.

That was good enough. And honest. It was too early to tell how their lives would change. Doppo wasn’t sure what fame entailed. He knew he had two great friends. He went fishing some weekends. He came to this nightclub without people being aware of his presence. But he was the same, he believed. Just... a bit less unsatisfied and a bit more acquainted with himself.

“True,” Jyuto agreed, “but many don’t possess that clarity that early on. They overestimate their influence.”

“Ah, that’s...” Doppo huffed out a soft laugh. That was way beyond his reach. “I don’t have that power.”

“You think so?” Jyuto tilted his head to the side, watching Doppo in contemplative silence. “That selfless nature of yours is what captivated many like you, you know,” he said, the hand holding his glass pointing his forefinger toward Doppo. “You should be proud of it.”

That — there was no way that wouldn’t throw Doppo completely off his center. Speechless, he felt his stomach curl at the... compliment? Comment? Fact? What was that?

He was still scrambling to come up with something to say when Jyuto spoke again.

“Well, even if it’s just a facade.” And he drank from his glass again.

Doppo stared at him for as long as those words sunk in, his brow furrowing.

Jyuto did not just diss him there.

“Iruma-san... I can’t tell if you’re insulting me or not.”

Jyuto immediately lowered his drink, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he let out a sudden, stifled sound, like it was masking a laugh. “Absolutely not. On the contrary, I’m sympathizing with you.”

Doppo’s lips twitched. “Is that so...”

“I know better than that. Besides, this is not the place.” Jyuto remained quiet for a moment, then, “Unless you want it to be.”

Doppo pulled in a shuddery breath, his eyes widening. He knew Jyuto wasn’t serious, but... he also sounded serious.

Chuuoku’s arenas were one thing, and their battle had been so bad to the point several pillars behind them were on the verge of collapsing. Were they to engage here would be a disaster.

Victory or trophies didn’t pay for broken chairs or a stock of shattered bottles of liquor.

“I didn’t get my paycheck yet,” Doppo said wryly.

“If money is the only factor, I can take care of that.”

Jyuto was staring at him from the corner of his eyes now, his lips still curved into a serene smile, like they were talking about the weather and not of the possibility of spewing obscenities in front of thousands. Slowly, Doppo felt the fervor from weeks ago crawl back to him; however, cool-headed and devoid of that urgent need to survive, he was unable to stop himself from grinning over their idiotic argument. Then, he saw Jyuto’s teeth grazing over his lip, the corners of his mouth twitching, unable to mask the same feeling as well.

Doppo held his gaze for a moment before allowing himself to laugh soundlessly, feeling the last threads of tension drain from his body. “I pass,” he finally said.

“Oh? Running away?”

No one could ever assume this man, an honorable image of righteousness and legitimacy, was more corrupt than everyone in this fucking place combined.

But Doppo knew the truth, and that felt... empowering. He wasn’t even bothered by his comment. “They would run us away.”

Jyuto let out a short laughter. “Well, I’m available, whenever you’re up to it.” He lifted his hand to tug at the collar of his shirt. Doppo’s gaze lingered there, watching Jyuto’s throat move as he spoke. “I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

Jyuto gazed down at him from below his perfect, long eyelashes, the corner of his eyes crinkling like they weren’t capable of scanning his enemy’s body and pinpointing the place that would hurt the most when he carved his words into it.

Doppo looked away, his breath hitching. “I... I wouldn’t. Either. I think.”

It wasn’t like he didn’t understand the sentiment. If it had been the other way, if Jyuto had walked out victorious, Doppo would want to show him, next time. Hell, Doppo felt he still wanted to show him more, now.

When did he start thinking like that?

“That’s not going to run away, is it?”

Doppo blinked at him. “What?”

“You’ve been holding it tight for a while, even long before I spoke to you.” Jyuto’s gaze trailed down to Doppo’s hand, and then to the glass Doppo’s fingers were wrapped around.

He didn’t know when he’d started clenching his glass so hard, but it had less to do with his anxiety and more with keeping his hand cool.

“What did you get there, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Jyuto leaned toward him a little, his eyebrows curving up as he peeped into Doppo’s glass from where he sat. His cologne brushed Doppo’s face like a feather.

“Ah...” Doppo stared at his glass, unsure of what to respond. “I’m not sure.”

“Is there a problem with it?”

“It’s shit,” Doppo groaned before his mouth could filter his thoughts.

Jyuto snorted, the sound so abrupt and coarse that it made Doppo’s eyes widen a little. “Ah, my bad. Wrong order?”

“Oh, no. It was my fault, actually.” Doppo laughed bitterly. “I made Hifumi buy something expensive for my sake, but... this is so gross I can barely smell it. But I should be grateful, right? I didn’t even have to pay for it.” He cut himself off and glanced at Jyuto.

“Hm. I think I get the gist of it, now. I thought I’d seen some pretty faces back there.” Jyuto then pointed at the half-filled glass next to Doppo’s own. “Could that be Izanami-san’s?”

“Yes...”

“I see.” There was a moment’s pause. “But, you know, expensive isn’t always best.”

“Ahah. I’m aware now.”

Doppo’s eyelids lowered for a moment. Shit happened, especially to him. But... really? He’d been staring-contesting with a glass all this time?

He looked back up just as he caught Jyuto making a motion to the bartender. Doppo didn’t know what exactly he did, but a moment later the bartender returned to them with a champagne glass identical to Jyuto’s.

He slid the drink toward Doppo. “Here.”

“What?”

“Just thought you could do with something that wasn’t shit.”

Doppo stared down at the glass. The piece of lemon peel curled on the edge of it and the renewed freshness radiating from the bubbles racing up the surface made his mouth water expectantly as he rubbed his tongue against his teeth. It looked and smelled so good already, but...

“It’s not spiked.”

Doppo whipped his head back at Jyuto, the cop’s expression turning solemn as he crossed his arms on the counter.

“I know I’m not exactly the most trustworthy guy out there, but that kind of shit is simply something only the worst scum would—”

“Um, th-that’s not—!” Doppo cut him off. That wasn’t remotely close to what he was thinking at all. He actually assumed Jyuto drew the line somewhere at some point. Jyuto could easily have had Matenrou wiped out before their battle. “I didn’t think you would,” Doppo continued, straining to keep his eyes from skirting to the sides. “I never thought you would do something like that at all.”

Jyuto stayed silent for another moment until Doppo could almost see the moment his broad shoulders went lax, relief flowing back into his face and body.

“I appreciate hearing you say that,” Jyuto said, smiling.

Doppo made a low sound and turned his attention to his new drink. “Is this really okay?”

“Of course. It’s on me.” Jyuto gave him a moment before asking, “Do you recognize it?”

“No... What is it?”

“Soixante Quinze.” Doppo froze at that; that shouldn’t have sounded as good as it did. Jyuto’s didn’t have to fucking purr like that, thick and posh. “Also known as French Seventy-Five.”

Definitely didn’t have to.

“Oh.” A Seventy-Five for Forty-Five Rabbit, please, Doppo thought childishly, trying to make light of it, replace it with something a little less distracting to downplay his surprise. Because that was all there was to it.

“Are you familiar with it?” Jyuto asked, oblivious to his inner folly.

Doppo finally met his eyes. Did he give off the vibe that he was? “A-as familiar as a shrimp is with a tree.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly, stupidly.

Jyuto stared back at him for a moment before bringing a loose fist up his lips, laughing softly into it. “That’s a unique way to put it.”

Doppo felt himself sink further into his seat. He had no idea why he’d said that. He was thinking of lemon trees and sea bunnies. Hifumi had showed him a video of those once. Doppo had thought they looked cute, the slugs with the bunny ears. He wondered if Jyuto thought so, too, if he even knew about them.

Jyuto still had a little twitch in his mouth as he took a small sip of his drink. Pretty. Doppo had to look away quick before he said something he regretted.

He eventually lifted the glass. “Then, I’ll be...”

“Hm, be my guest,” Jyuto said as Doppo let the cocktail wet the tip of his tongue. He had the intention of taking nothing more than a modest gulp, but before he could stop himself, the cool, refreshing, enticing flavor and the need to flood his mouth with it and quench his thirst had him tipping his head back and downing it whole in three eager swigs.

“Haaah,” Doppo breathed out as he set the glass down, enjoying the cool, bubbly presence buzzing pleasantly in his throat. More importantly, his tongue felt wet again, and that was more than he could ask for. “A-amazing... thank you so much, Iruma-sa—!”

When Doppo turned to Jyuto, the cop was staring at him funnily, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide as saucers.

“I-Iruma-san?”

“You… are you okay?” Jyuto asked tentatively.

“I...” Doppo hesitated for a moment. “Y-yes? Wh-why are you asking?”

Jyuto shook his head. “No, what I mean is... didn’t it burn?”

“Was it supposed to?”

Jyuto’s lips parted for two seconds before he replied, “Ideally.”

“Um...” Doppo stared down a this empty glass, then at Jyuto’s half-filled one, and eventually back at Jyuto, hoping he wouldn’t judge an idiot like Doppo so much, his shining olive eyes piercing Doppo’s exhausted ones like a bullet.

Then, Jyuto laughed, loud, the sound incredibly close to when he rapped, but more sugary and abrupt, like it had been expanding unpredictably in his chest like a balloon until Doppo made it pop.

Doppo’s mind flashed back to a pompous, much-too-euphoric voice threatening to throw him to jail, and Doppo promising to end it.

“You really are something else, Doppo—ah, Kannonzaka-san.”

Doppo sucked in a breath, uncertain of to which part of Jyuto react to first. Jyuto’s slip-up would have gone completely unnoticed if he hadn’t pointed it out, and Doppo found that he wasn’t as conflicted as anyone would be, as a person or as Jyuto’s fortuitous, inevitable enemy.

“I-it’s fine... I think we’re past formalities by now, so...” Doppo’s tongue curled inside his mouth as it formed the words, because… they had seen each other blare their voices out in ecstasy in what ought to be a whole other fucked up level of intimacy no body grinding against another in this room could relate to.

Right?

“Ah, that’s...” Jyuto paused, regaining his breath and coughing the fakest cough Doppo had ever heard. “I guess we are.”

Hearing him agree made Doppo’s body sag in relief; it wasn’t as much as the validation itself as it was the vague feeling that he was getting too comfortable, and he wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. Weird, was what it was. That fleeting, alleviating sensation of having nothing to pull his hair out over only lasted so long before it cascaded into something he was obligated to be responsible for. It always did. It never ended well for him.

A sudden cheer cut him off his self-sabotaging cycle. Behind them, Doppo noticed, a different beat had taken over the dance floor. Turning his head toward the bustle, he watched with mild fascination how the crowd started whooping along to the new music — music that Doppo’s ears had long converted into background noise — and synchronizing their movements as they jumped off the ground with enviable vitality, a trait Doppo had for a long time thought he lacked until Sensei put a hypnosis microphone in his hand.

Then, the crowd stopped cheering as the percussion died down to leave place to a more monotonous piece, and those that had once timed up their dancing into a respected pattern went back to following a less communal, more individual rhythm of their own. No body swayed the same as another, and any concept of correlation between their movement and the music was lost, as if it had never been actually there. Doppo distantly thought of how nice that probably felt, owning that kind of control.

This wasn’t the best place for him to feel at ease, but somehow there was a kind of familiarity he was acquainted with, and that appeased him. Perhaps it was because the crowd reminded him of himself, Hifumi and Sensei — of themselves. Obstinate in nature. Measured at times. Ecstatic when needed to be. Or maybe it was the simple placebo effect that came with a stuffed stomach or, alternatively, a nice flavor on his tongue. Or the fact that no one was bringing the outcast out of him. And that included Jyuto.

“Want to give it a try?” Jyuto asked.

A try?

Jyuto tipped his head toward the dance floor.

“A-ah, no, I’m… I’m fine.”

“Hm. Then...”

Jyuto sure was stooping low, sitting with someone like Doppo where people could see them. Did Jyuto like to dance? Why was he here in the first place? He could get anyone he wanted, out there, if he threw courtesy out the window and left Doppo to pay for his own drinks. He had some guts, openly moving his hand toward Doppo’s leg—

Wh-what.

There was more than Doppo would have wanted to say instead of the choked sound he ended up making when Jyuto only smiled at him as his gloved hand loomed toward his thigh. His pulse grew erratic as he watched Jyuto from the corner of his eye, the only thought crossing his mind being how he could very well slap his hand away, but—

“I’ll take this.”

Take, he said. Take?

Jyuto’s touch never came, and when his hand returned to the counter, something yellow was tucked between his fingers.

A... lemon peel?

Doppo’s heart weighed heavy in his ribcage as he looked down where his jeans sported a small, wet patch on his thigh. Oh, God, did he drop the fucking—

Doppo gulped, his face heating up as he raised his gaze in time to see Jyuto’s lips closing over the tip of his thumb, feeling as if he’d interrupted something very — God, Jyuto didn’t have to do that, grab a napkin, please, would you.

“S-sorry. I didn’t realize...”

“Hm, don’t worry about it,” Jyuto reassured him and turned to face him. “You know, to be honest, I was a bit curious after I saw you survive Rio’s special, but you can like normal things as well.” He paused, one of his eyebrows arching up. “I didn’t expect you to down it like that, though.”

There was nothing in Jyuto’s comment that Doppo felt was aimed at making him feel abnormal, but the more Doppo dwelled on his words, the quicker he realized he did overreact a little, didn’t he? Of course Jyuto wouldn’t expect such a coarse attitude like that. Truthfully, Doppo had no class. Being around Hifumi didn’t magically turn him into a cocktail etiquette expert. He probably ruined a perfectly assembled flavor that Jyuto had meant for him to savor thoroughly, like he was doing, if the half-filled glass next to Doppo’s was of any indication.

Of course he’d screw up, and in front of Jyuto, of all people. That must have been a sight, huh. He needed to get rid of that habit of his of jumping head first into things that only granted him ephemeral gratification.

“D-did I ruin it?”

Jyuto raised his other eyebrow and blinked at him.

Shit, he ruined it.

He felt hot in the back of his neck, his hands going clammy as he clenched them into fists, making him wish he had enough self-control to wrap them around his glass without fearing he would break it. Why did he even have to ask? What did Doppo know about fancy and refined when he was anything but?

“I’m sorry. I-I should have taken my time. It was the same back then. Busujima-san was so kind of sharing his drink with us. If I had been more careful and acted accordingly Hifumi wouldn’t have wanted to try it. He wouldn’t have collapsed like he did. That was my fault, it was all my—”

“Doppo, wait.”

Doppo stopped.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Jyuto said, his gloved fingers so cool against Doppo’s bare wrist that Doppo’s burning skin kind of missed them when Jyuto pulled his hand away. “And Rio…”

Doppo slowly trailed his eyes up and saw Jyuto’s shoulders go tense for a moment, his body struck by tiny shivers as he turned to the bar and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That was kind of impressive. Rio’s mixes are rather particular, as you already saw. All things aside, I’m sure he was happy to see you like it so much.”

Doppo remained silent for a moment, his gaze lowering to the counter.

“Um... thank you, Iruma-san. For the drink.”

“Jyuto is fine,” the cop chimed in before Doppo could even close his mouth.

Doppo looked up at him.

“We are past formalities, are we not?” Jyuto continued. As he lifted his drink, Doppo instinctively followed his movements with his eyes, zeroing in those smirking lips closing around the edge of the glass.

Doppo dragged his gaze upward, almost choking on air when he found Jyuto’s feline gaze locked on him again. As Jyuto lowered his glass, Doppo felt unable to scurry his gaze away from Jyuto’s tongue sweeping over his mouth. Perfectly aligned teeth followed after, biting down on his bottom lip as Jyuto raised an eyebrow at him.

“Hm?”

Doppo’s lips trembled, but no words made it out.

“W-welcome, Iruma-san!”

Only then did their gaze break, and they both turned at the bartender on the other side of the counter. Doppo had never seen him before.

“How did you like your drink?” the bartender asked Jyuto, even though he clearly hadn’t been the one to serve him. He looked younger than them, coupled with a bubbly smile and a shy predisposition that reminded Doppo of some of Hifumi’s admirers.

Jyuto set his glass down with a coy smile. “Splendid as always, Hamada-kun.”

“I’m glad.” The bartender looked down dreamily. The way his body swayed made it look as if he was shuffling his feet. “Are you staying the whole night?”

Jyuto hummed pensively, his eyes briefly crossing Doppo’s before finding the bartender’s again. “That depends.”

“Ah!” Bubbly guy had barely a second to raise his face and make his enthusiasm known before another bartender, the one that had served both Hifumi and Doppo, and then Jyuto, materialized behind him and tugged at the back of his collar.

“Back to work, brat,” said his gruff voice as he pushed the bartender toward another customer at the other end of the bar.

Doppo kept quiet and as inconspicuous as possible as Jyuto exchanged a few words with the bartender — something about importation fees and sake? Doppo wasn’t really listening.

They seem to know each other, but... did anyone here really know Jyuto?

Jyuto looked so proper and unpolluted.

Would that other bartender look at him with those doe eyes if he knew Jyuto could just make them roll all the way to the back of his head with a single word?

… Probably.

Why would he not? What with the anxiety rattling his bones before their confrontation with Fling Posse, how his opponents looked had been the least of Doppo’s priorities. But after getting to know some of them a little more, Jyuto really was the sort of guy many people fawned over, huh? Not just handsome and with a steady job, but he had the charisma. The fact that Doppo didn’t own any didn’t mean he couldn’t recognize it when it was displayed right in front of him. He lived with Hifumi, after all.

Part of him wondered how much of it was a facade and how much wasn’t, but when he looked back on the times Jyuto’s eyes crinkled when he laughed at something Doppo had said; his glistening, green eyes fluttering closed as his eyebrows came down; his poise so open and devoid of the haughtiness Doppo was used to being subjected to on a daily basis... Doppo didn’t dislike it. He didn’t dislike that Jyuto was both sides of a coin, either. He didn’t dislike that the same mouth that said the most sophisticated things one moment was the most uncouth the next.

They weren’t that different. Doppo knew that, could relate.

A fucked up level of intimacy, all right.

Jyuto pulled at his collar again before turning his attention back to Doppo, and that inch of hidden skin was suddenly giving Doppo’s mind thoughts. Dangerous thoughts.

“Do you want another?” Jyuto asked, pointing to Doppo’s empty glass.

Oh, Doppo didn’t mind another shot. Or a hundred. Whatever to let those thoughts float away. His empty pockets, on the other hand… “I can’t... pay for...” And he hated to bring it up. Pathetic. “I left my wallet home.”

“Not a problem.”

At Doppo’s hesitation, Jyuto gave a chuckle and motioned to the bartender, who took Doppo’s empty glass and returned a minute later with a refill.

Doppo appreciated the poor lighting didn’t show how embarrassingly affected he felt. Probably. Hopefully. This time, though, he made sure to pretend he had some class left in him, taking a short sip, savoring it, enjoying it.

Fuah, it really was good, after all.

Doppo waited as Jyuto and the bartender had one last brief exchange. Jyuto apologized; Doppo felt he didn’t have to, and politely dismissed it, his eyes skirting away from Jyuto’s brilliant ones. Did he always have to look people in the eye?

Quick. His hands started shaking. Change the subject.

“N-no, it’s fine. You... you know everyone here, right?”

Jyuto hummed. “I took a liking to this place.”

“Do you... come here a lot, then?”

“Hm. When it’s necessary.”

Necessary. That explained... nothing at all. Besides ‘business’, didn’t Jyuto ever come here to... do whatever people came to do here?

“Do you?” Jyuto asked.

Doppo tossed him an unimpressed look; Jyuto did tell him he didn’t look like the type. “Do I look like the type to come here a lot?”

“I don’t know,” Jyuto admitted and tipped his head down, peering at Doppo from over the rim of his glasses, his long eyelashes casting shadows over his gaze. “I can never be too sure with you, Doppo.”

Doppo couldn’t pinpoint why that made his skin tingle a little, his toes flexing in the sudden confinement of his shoes. Probably because he didn’t think of himself as unpredictable since no one ever expected anything of him. He was plain. The only thing to highlight about himself was the color Hifumi touched up every month on his head.

Suddenly, the whole room felt a lot hotter.

Jyuto tugged at his collar once more and Doppo instinctively found his gaze drawn to it again, wondering why the fuck Jyuto didn’t look remotely close to feeling the slightest bit warm, dressed all fancy like that. Anxiety aside, Doppo couldn’t have been the only one fighting the urge to grab his long forgotten shitty drink and pour it over his head to cool down. Jyuto too must have been hot. Why wasn’t he? Jyuto had to be hot—

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“What?”

When Doppo’s eyes came to focus, Jyuto’s own were wide, puzzlement keeping them curious and searching. Doppo’s thoughts replayed in his head until he felt the memory of them on his own tongue.

Out of everything he could have thought, out of everything he could have said, his brain just had to choose that.

Panic rose to his throat. “I—no!”

“No?”

“It’s hot.” Doppo shook his head. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. “That’s all.”

The sudden beat of silence that fell between them wasn’t easy to handle.

“It’s actually colder there, did you know?” Jyuto told him after a moment, nodding toward the dance floor. “There’s an AC right above it.”

‘There’...?

Doppo wasn’t so sure.

As feverish as he felt, he’d rather not subject himself to being dragged along by a swarm of bodies where it was hard to tell the beat of the music from his heart’s.

He considered it, though.

He could sneak out real quick, get close enough to allow the sweat on his neck to dry, let some air flow into his t-shirt, and pray it was as easy to get out through the crowd as it was to get in. Hifumi was good at that; the couple of times he took Doppo out to parties, he would hold him by the hand and make a beeline to the other side of the saloon without so much as getting a single person elbowing them in the face.

Without Hifumi, Doppo hadn’t been so lucky in finding his way to the restrooms by himself. Someone like him wasn’t cut out for that.

And the more he looked at the dance floor, the more solid his previous judgment became: that someone like Jyuto would rather be out there.

Doppo dropped his gaze to the table, unable to stop himself from muttering, “I’m sorry.”

“Hm? Why are you apologizing?”

“It’s... you don’t have to keep me company.”

There was a long pause, and for that moment Doppo regretted ever voicing that thought. As if he had the authority to decide what other people could do or not do around him. As if it was logical to assume someone would find him worthy of being kept company.

“Actually,” Jyuto started. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. “I thought you were keeping me company.”

Doppo lifted his gaze back up to him, startled, finding Jyuto leaned on his elbow over the counter, his cheek resting on his palm.

Doppo keeping him company? Doppo preferring to be elsewhere than here?

An hour ago that might have been the case, but out of every corner of this place, he couldn’t find a better spot for him.

He couldn’t tell if Jyuto was just messing with him, but the more they blinked dumbly at each other, the more he really, really regretted ever suggesting the other to leave when his presence was anything but annoying.

Talk about fucking self-destruction.

“Oh.”

Jyuto let out a heavy sigh, and the next thing he said made Doppo’s vision spin. “You’re interesting, Doppo.”

Now, that was going too far. Doppo almost looked around, expecting to see someone with a camera filming his reaction, but he didn’t, holding Jyuto’s gaze until he couldn’t, a bitter huff escaping him.

“Th-that’s not true.”

Jyuto stayed quiet. It wasn’t until Doppo mustered some courage to meet his eyes that he spoke again.

“I’m not lying.” Doppo remained silent, and that was a good enough substitute for his answer. Jyuto realized that, and continued. “I can’t really fake it with you, Doppo.”

Nothing, not even the clinking of glasses or the bass thumping in the background could stop the words from repeating over and over in Doppo’s brain.

I can’t really fake it with you.

You’re interesting.

The fact there wasn’t even the minimal semblance of deceit on Jyuto’s face didn’t make any of it any more real than whatever he’d told Doppo so far. He didn’t even know what they were talking about anymore. As disconcerting as that was, though, his skin couldn’t help but warm up at the praise.

“Then...” Placing both hands on the edge of the counter, Jyuto rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck back, his Adam’s apple popping inches above where the collar of his black shirt hugged his neck. “Shall we?” he asked, gazing behind them.

The more Doppo thought about it, the sweatier he got, and the more he actually wanted to be there. He took a sip of his drink. It had warmed up.

“Just a little...” he said out loud, mostly to himself.

“Just a little is fine,” Jyuto repeated, turning back to him.

“I don’t have to...” Do what they’re doing. “Dance.” Because he had to at least pretend to like being there, right? Standing like a tree would only attract unwanted attention.

Jyuto let out a soft laugh. “Not at all. Does that worry you?”

“W-well, I don’t... know.”

“Well...” Jyuto paused. “Don’t take this as me pressuring you, but I bet you thought the same thing about rapping.”

Doppo blinked at him and heaved a sigh. “That...” That just happened. He was still coming to terms with that new flair of his, with the things he’d done, the things he’d said, the way he’d somehow managed to channel his pent-up frustration into words, and give a name to the feelings that had been brewing inside of him for so long. That shit was crazy—

Did Jyuto think he was any good at that?

“Just do what you do with your voice, but with your body.”

Doppo stared at him dumbly, unsure of what Jyuto meant. He didn’t expect to see Doppo having a breakdown in the middle of a nightclub, did he?

He didn’t ask him that, his breath catching when Jyuto took a last sip from his drink, got up from his seat, and extended a hand to him. He looked so tall, and Doppo felt so hopeless, unable to turn him down and stop his hand from reaching out to Jyuto’s.

Jyuto was so giving.

Doppo felt weightless as he was effortlessly lifted from his seat.

Jyuto was so strong.

His hand — glove — wasn’t hot nor cold, pleasant to the touch and just right. The lack of skin contact gave Doppo mixed feelings at first, but his gloves were so thin that he could actually feel the ridges of Jyuto’s skin and bones instead of the cloth’s texture. Doppo was more thankful for them than not, though; Jyuto didn’t need to know how clammy his hand was as he walked them toward the floor.

Oh, God. They really were holding hands.

Doppo’s gaze flicked between the ground and Jyuto’s back; when he wasn’t scanning the ground for anything gross his soles would rather avoid taking home, his eyes were on Jyuto’s form as he guided them forward confidently, like he knew where to step for the path to open for him alone, Doppo following him clumsily.

Jyuto was dependable.

He lowered his gaze, locking shyly on Jyuto’s hand laced around his own, when he was met with the first cluster of excited bodies.

The multicolored strobe lights started hitting them from every corner until Doppo was unaware of his own blinking and the pumping of his heart. The onslaught of smells hit him immediately as well, the mix of deodorant, perspiration, and booze rushing into his nostrils faster than the music reached his brain. It made him regret for a moment ever leaving the bar. However, Jyuto was right; it really was cooler here, and Doppo felt as if his sweat would dry up as soon as it rose from his skin, the artificial wind blowing from above immediately soothing him and giving his body its much needed respite. He tugged the collar of his t-shirt, reveling in the air sweeping down his chest, deciding he could ignore the feel of a couple of bodies inevitably dragging against his own if it meant he got to cool himself off for at least one miserable minute.

That fleeting instant of relief was cut off suddenly when someone bumped against him, making him stumble several steps to the side, Jyuto’s fingers disentangling from his hand. The man was no longer in front of him, making a twinge of panic cling to Doppo’s nerves. No. No. No.

The alarm weighing on his legs felt eternal, but as he turned and realized he could still see the bar from his position, his anxiety was quelled with the realization that, despite everything, he was still a strong human being capable of reach it if he pushed through the clusters of people hard enough. And he did know to push. Hard.

Without Jyuto’s distracting presence, though, Doppo became fully aware of the music engulfing him. Ever since he’d started rapping he supposed he had a better idea of how different sounds blended and flowed, and he could hear them now, beneath his shoes and in the steady pulsing in his chest. The bass. The synthesizer. The piano. The organ.

As he recognized them, he found himself swinging to the beat of something only he could hear, because, he realized as he let his eyes close, no one was following his rhythm. Shoulders and legs occasionally bumped with his own, but no one was really looking at him, but locked up in their own bubble instead, and so was Doppo.

And that was good enough.

Rhythm.

Action.

Inaction.

Flow.

“Hey.”

Termination.

The hand that closed around his wrist was sticky with sweat and rough as sandpaper.

Doppo hated how it snapped him back to reality, and hated even more that he opened his eyes to the greasy grin of some man whose fingers clenched tighter when Doppo subtly attempted to pull his arm free.

“Wanna dance?” the man asked loudly, the pungent stench of his breath overwhelming Doppo’s nose. He didn’t wait for an answer, nodding frantically as he pulled Doppo toward him. “Yeah, you wanna! C’mere!”

Doppo stood his ground, a wave of adrenaline slowly pumping through his veins. “Wait,” he gritted out, wanting nothing more than to claw those fingers off his skin as his brain warred between courtesy and stop, stop, stop—

The moment the man’s free hand settled between Doppo’s hip and thigh, Doppo immediately reached out to stop him from moving any further. Finding the bone of the man’s wrist too wide for his fingers to apply the pressure he wanted, Doppo sunk his nails into it. The guy’s aroused mien twisted into a sour grimace, undoubtedly annoyed with Doppo’s reaction. As if Doppo gave a fuck; he could just try to twist his hand, or headbutt that arrogance out of his face, yeah, he could do that. You should do that, the whisper in his head spurred him on.

It would be easy. They were almost the same height, so Doppo slowly tipped his head back, waiting for the man to step forward and come closer, yeah, come closer, will you—

Suddenly, something slid from behind him and wrapped itself around the arm holding Doppo’s wrist. Doppo initially glowered at the intrusion, but felt his rage dim when he recognized it was a hand, black gloved.

He felt another hand resting gently on the center of his back.

“Fuck off,” Jyuto growled, loud enough for both men to hear, and for a few others that turned their heads to them. The pitch of his voice was so awfully close to when he held his microphone that Doppo could feel it torn its way into his healed scars and taunt the front of his pants.

Jyuto must have done something then, because the next moment the man’s features contorted into a more panicked look, and then Doppo was able to make out a shriek of pain before the heavy fingers circling his wrist finally loosened. Doppo snatched both of his arms back, as so did Jyuto, releasing the man as he frantically rubbed where Jyuto had held him.

Doppo felt the stares last all but three seconds, the curious watchers quickly turning their backs on them as soon as they realized whatever had happened was probably over.

Jyuto moved the hand pressed over Doppo’s back up his shoulder, giving him a light pat.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his breath fanning over Doppo’s ears and rousing a shiver down his neck.

As Doppo turned his face just enough to meet his eyes, Jyuto had to move back a little so their noses didn’t bump. He sucked in a breath, his lungs flooring with the mixed scent of cologne and tobacco that he now identified as Jyuto’s.

A small nod was all he managed, belatedly realizing that the blinking lights made it close to impossible to really see the difference between a nod and anything else. Somehow, though, he was able to catch a smile on Jyuto’s face.

“You want to go back to—watch out!”

The sudden alarm in Jyuto’s eyes made Doppo flinch; he reacted fast enough to turn and see the guy from before with his hands clenched into fists, but not enough to stop him from lunging at them and viciously shoving Doppo backward. Jyuto briefly stumbled off balance as Doppo’s back hit his chest, a choked gasp escaping them both and leaving them breathless for a moment.

“Fuck you, asshole!” the guy yelled before stumbling his way into the crowd, much to the discomfort of the oblivious people around him.

Doppo’s blood boiled with tension, his fingers shaking at his sides. Red floored his vision as his lungs swelled, the pit of his stomach scorching with the need of unchaining the frenzied steam from under his skin. Blinded from better judgment, his body moved on autopilot and he attempted to go after the man, even if he couldn’t see him anymore, his presence eventually lost among the crowd for good.

Something — someone — held him back firmly, clutching his arms before Doppo could even take a step forward.

“Doppo,” Jyuto said, his lips almost grazing the shell of Doppo’s ear, clashing with the shrill buzzing ringing in his brain. “Let him go.”

Doppo listened, repeating the words in his head until they started to make some sense, and clung to the last shreds of his self-control to will the pounding of his heart to slow down, as much as he was able to with the music pumping in his chest and Jyuto’s weight behind him, and the growing strain in his pants, and Jyuto’s arms on him keeping him together, and Jyuto’s wicked mouth uttering promises into his ear, something about how he’ll take care of it, how he’ll find out the guy’s identity if he wanted to, and this and that. He had no idea how he was able to make out every word with the added whooping and clapping closing in on them, but at some point it all became an unintelligible goop of sounds that couldn’t reach his brain anymore, and Doppo stopped listening, until Jyuto said his name again, and he felt lucidity slowly crawl back to him.

“Okay?” Jyuto asked.

Doppo gave him another slow nod, eyes locked on the floor, unable to look at the man who had read right through him and was in all his right to walk away from Doppo’s pathetic sight and leave him to deal with his shame on his own.

He flexed his knees to test his balance, expecting to have Jyuto’s anchoring presence taken away from of him at any moment.

However, Jyuto held him throughout the frantic tremble of his body until it finally died down. Only then was he aware of the texture of Jyuto’s gloves against his arms and the feel of his thumbs rubbing circles above his elbows.

When his breathing fell back into a steady pace, Doppo raised his gaze, noticing a different music had long started playing. The spot where the man from before was standing only remained empty for so long before new people made it their own and danced on it like nothing had happened.

Doppo wished he was that functional of a human being.

As the buzz in his head dissipated, he became hyperaware of the tight heat still pulsating somewhere deep in his body, and that repressed need for release had him slowly spiraling back into panic.

Jyuto’s hands slid down his arms until they let go of him, but his body was still firm behind him, a solid, stable presence that Doppo found he very much needed.

Perhaps a bit too much.

Jyuto’s presence was inviting, and Doppo found himself caving to it.

His pants felt tight.

He needed to get the fuck away from there, now, before he needed Jyuto’s hold on him more.

The change of pacing in the music and the abrupt sway of bodies closing in on him caught him off guard. Someone bumped against him from the side, and in an attempt to avoid being pushed toward someone he didn’t know, he allowed himself to step back and bundle up closer to where Jyuto was, his back colliding against the other’s chest. Jyuto quickly held him by the shoulders again, keeping him from tripping and meeting the floor.

And perhaps that was where Doppo deserved to be, low, instead of carelessly leaning his weight on Jyuto. But the more he avoided the crowd or leaving Jyuto’s side, the more their bodies pressed snuggly against one another. And the more Jyuto’s hips cradled his lower back just right, the more noticeable became the hardness digging in against Doppo’s backside, making him dizzy with want.

Jyuto was hard, too.

Jyuto was hard, the outline of his cock pressing against Doppo’s ass, and Doppo felt his restraint crumble, slipping through his fingers like salt as his own erection jumped against his pants.

Fuck. Doppo wanted to die, but he also didn’t. An apology instinctively left his lips, out of sheer habit. Stupid. He didn’t even know if Jyuto had heard him. He knew he wasn’t really sorry at all.

Jyuto remained still, his hands still perched on Doppo’s shoulders — a sign that was as noncommittal as it was reassuring.

And not exactly discouraging.

All pretense of self-control escaped him completely as he planted his feet and tentatively bucked his hips backward. His knees buckling, he ended up pushing against Jyuto harder than he intended, and the sound that Jyuto exhaled into his ear when Doppo’s ass squished the length of his cock was so low and airy and gratifying that Doppo thanked the universe he didn’t miss it — he would have, if Jyuto’s mouth wasn’t so damn close. The sweet nothings Jyuto had been whispering for him were long forgotten, replaced by the warmth of his face and the faint scent of gin and tobacco which Doppo reveled in, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as if he could taste them from Jyuto’s breathing.

The intimacy of it left him short of breath, his body shivering in anticipation. It was suffocating, the good kind that made him close his eyes and lose himself to the rest of his senses. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he bundled them into fists near his stomach as he pushed his hips back again, zero regard for the rational, little voice left in him that told him that there was no way he could pass that as an accident.

The moment Jyuto’s hands left his shoulders to grip his hips and hold him in place, Doppo’s eyes snapped open in mortification, already envisioning Jyuto’s perfect face marred with disgust — and not any less perfect for that -- as he shoved Doppo into the crowd like that man had done with him a minute ago. And Doppo would not fight back because he deserved nothing more generous than that. He was worse than that scum. And if Jyuto despised people like that, he would find Doppo despicable as well—

Which was why he almost choked on his spit when Jyuto pulled him back against his body with a rough tug that knocked the air out of Doppo’s mouth. Jyuto’s lips grazed his ear as he spoke, his words causing Doppo to pull in a shuddery breath.

“You’re going to make me come if you keep doing that.”

Shit.

Jyuto. He was going to make Jyuto, from Mad Trigger Crew, come in his pants if he kept doing that. Doppo almost wanted him to, right there, maybe, and wanted himself to, yes, be the one to make him. Hopefully.

Engrossed in his own pleasure, like everyone else around them, he rested his hands on top of Jyuto’s, using them as leverage try rocking his body back against the heat in Jyuto’s pants. He couldn’t. Jyuto’s grip was strong, keeping Doppo’s body in place where he wanted it, like he owned it. All good. Right then, Doppo would give him anything he wanted.

So long his patience didn’t crack.

Jyuto’s damp breath fanned over his neck as he began thrusting his hips forward, rutting the hard line of his cock up and down the middle of Doppo’s ass, steadily, good. And Doppo really wished that was all it took to push him over, but after a short while, it just wasn’t.

There was a disparity between the deliberate way Jyuto moved and the music marking a rhythm and the way Doppo needed it. He couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hips backward again with more vigor. He was met with resistance, a low, annoyed growl rumbling out of him when Jyuto held him firmer, stopping him from moving like he wanted.

Doppo hissed a curse through his gritted teeth. Damn Jyuto. Damn everything and damn himself for wanting this so much. Impatient, his fingers curled tighter over Jyuto’s hands until he was sure he heard him groan, the sound shooting straight through Doppo’s cock.

Jyuto’s response was immediate as he slid one of his hands up, lingering under the hem of Doppo’s t-shirt without moving further. Yes, okay, that worked, too. Doppo closed his eyes with a content sigh as he leaned his head backward. Persuading enough, Jyuto trailed his hand up, his fingers splaying wide over Doppo’s belly.

“Ha-ah, fuck,” Doppo moaned, feeling himself thickening in his underwear. Little shudders wracked his body as Jyuto’s hand roamed around his stomach, his fingers pressing possessively over the sensitive flesh there, making Doppo arch off toward Jyuto’s hand, or his cock, fuck, he wasn’t sure. Despite how good the coolness of the leather felt against his burning skin, though, he wished it was his bare hand instead.

The grip on his hip loosened then, and Doppo’s eyes fluttered open at the light press of fingers on his chin. Jyuto’s breath ghosted over his temple as he tipped Doppo’s head to the side and spoke into his ear.

“Let’s go somewhere else?”

Doppo had to blink away the haze from his sight before he could make out the only thing to catch his eye in the direction Jyuto made him focus on: a light blue neon sign above a long, dimly lit corridor.

Fuck. Doppo should have known better, but there was nothing in him that rejected the idea. A bad idea, but so was dozing off while standing near the railway, almost as bad as falling asleep behind a steering wheel, and that was why he hadn’t gotten a car yet. This didn’t put his life at stake, though. None of that mundane shit made him grow thick, his cock straining against his pants at the notion of Jyuto being so out of his mind to consider taking this to a public restroom, taking Doppo, to a restroom — in a restroom? Ha, ha.

This was fine, though. Doppo felt like the hollowest twig of a tree ready to snap with the slightest touch, and Jyuto was touching him a lot already. He wanted this. He didn’t know this was what he needed, but he wanted it. He would use Jyuto and let Jyuto use him too.

The last of his rational mind clung to that notion with confidence, only to crumble pathetically when he felt Jyuto press a soft kiss to his cheek. It was quick and barely there, but much more than what Doppo had assumed he would get, and enough to make his body tingle with arousal.

Who knew what else that mouth could do?

Doppo turned his head further, curious, wanting to try to have a taste of Jyuto’s mouth with his own, but Jyuto had already moved back and was dragging his lips alongside his neck.

“Ngh...” Oh, that — besides spouting shit, that was what they also did. Nice. Doppo liked it a lot. He wanted to bite them until they bruised.

Could he… do that?

Jyuto’s question still hung between them. Doppo swallowed and nodded several times. Somewhere else sounded good. Somewhere else sounded perfect.

Jyuto withdrew his hand from under his t-shirt. Doppo huffed at the emptiness, but the next instant he was being pulled through the crowd with one of Jyuto’s arms curled securely around his waist, his other hand carefully pushing people out of their way and opening a path for them. Before long, Jyuto had successfully led them away from the dance floor and toward the bar.

The bar?

There, they met with the stern bartender from before. As Jyuto approached him, he let go of Doppo’s waist to hold his wrist instead.

The fact that there weren’t any crazy lights here to make it nearly impossible to see each other’s faces without having to imagine how they really looked like made Doppo’s head spin. Not that the bathrooms would be any better. Haaah. He really, really hoped he didn’t look half as grotesque as he thought.

He still had half a mind to notice Jyuto had a bill folded between his index and middle fingers. He offered it to the bartender, who took it without a word and kept it somewhere under his apron in exchange of something that he took from under the counter — something with a bigger shape but small enough for Jyuto to close his fingers around. Jyuto stored it swiftly into his front pocket before turning on his heels and walking with Doppo toward the corridor leading to the restrooms.

As he pushed the door open, the chillness hit Doppo immediately, prickling his skin like a million needles. It was like walking into Sensei’s hospital, minus the whole horniness and a hard-on pressing against his jeans.

The room was tinted with a warm, golden shimmer. Doppo trailed his eyes to the row of individual stalls, noting how the lighting in there dimmed.

He liked it here, though. It was refreshing, more quiet, better for breathing, passable enough for—

“Fucking hell—!” hissed one of the other two patrons standing by the sink, glaring down at the big splash of water staining his shirt as he twisted the tap off harder than it was necessary. His friend laughed.

Jyuto walked ahead, his reflection eyeing the pair discreetly as he stopped by the paper-towel dispenser, grabbing some to wipe the sweat off his face. Doppo stayed put by the entrance as he blinked away the haze from his sight, accustoming his eyes and ears to the change of ambience and getting an accidental yet very privileged view of Jyuto’s back.

Fearing Jyuto would meet his eyes through the mirror, Doppo didn’t let his gaze linger, but as he made the stupid mistake of glancing at his own reflection, he instantly wished he didn’t.

Not only he looked sweaty. His cheeks were an obscene red, flaring up from the heat and whatever shame was left in him. His hair was a lame mess, what wasn’t plastered to his forehead sticking up at different angles. The bags under his eyes were still the same, but that didn’t make them any less awful.

It wasn’t like Jyuto himself had left the floor completely unaffected, but in Doppo’s eyes the man looked gorgeous. His dark eyelashes cut over the rosy gleam of his cheeks like sickles. His hair still looked mostly controlled and styled to perfection, despite the few strand locks sticking out of place. His skin was layered by an attractive sheen of sweat, and the droplets that trickled down the back of his neck and disappeared under his collar made Doppo want to tug it down to see where they reached before licking the glow off his skin.

Doppo was fucked. In the worst sense.

He wouldn’t blame Jyuto if he backed down and didn’t want to do anything after seeing which one of them had an actual chance to get a better lay out there.

But then Jyuto turned around, his expression amicable as he handed Doppo a couple of towels to dry himself up, as well. Doppo stepped forward and took them wordlessly, although he had to stop himself from making a sound as Jyuto turned again and took his glasses off to wipe them as well.

After half a minute, the other two men walked past them and Jyuto slid his glasses back on as soon as the door shut behind their backs. Doppo’s heart gave a jump when he swiftly turned around and leaned against the sink, placing his hands on the marble countertop on each side of him.

Gazing down at Doppo, he asked, “How do you want to do this?”

Doppo stared at him, dumbfounded at the question, but mostly at how Jyuto had the nerve to look composed, as if they hadn’t used each other to get off a minute ago.

Jyuto’s arms stretched long, and under the clarity of the ceiling lights in this room, the scars were as clear as broad light, running down his arms like lightning strikes. Some were older and superficial, barely there as they fused with the rest of his unmarred skin. Some were fresh, whiter. They weren’t that different from Doppo’s own, but as Doppo trailed his gaze down to the buttons running down that black shirt, he vaguely wondered what it would look like were he to undo them.

At Doppo’s silence, Jyuto added, “If you want to do anything at all.”

At that moment, Doppo wanted nothing more than to wring that composure out of him.

The used paper towels in his hands succumbed to the tense grip of his fingers, turning into miserably crumpled balls. They fell to the floor with a loud thud as he stepped forward, cupped the side of Jyuto’s face with one hand, his other sliding behind his neck, and joined their mouths together in a harsh kiss.

Jyuto let out a startled, muffled noise and Doppo belatedly realized he’d probably been too forceful. He forced himself to pull back, but as Jyuto gripped his hips and erased the space between them by slamming their bodies hard against each other, knocking the air out of Doppo’s lungs and making his eyes squeeze shut, Doppo had to mentally slap himself for even thinking Jyuto would be dissuaded by a measly display of brute force.

The sudden friction of the rigid shape of Jyuto’s cock sliding against his thigh through his pants had Doppo gasping in pleasure, his fingers loosening from where they flexed on Jyuto’s neck. Jyuto huffed slightly, the sound akin to a laughter, that fucker. Doppo even felt him smile against his mouth before his lower lip got caught between Jyuto’s teeth.

Fuck, Doppo hadn’t even had a proper taste of him and what little he’d had was making his belly curl with need.

Before he could chase his mouth again, Jyuto pulled back and tipped his head up by his chin.

“Let me ask you — how drunk are you?” he asked, slightly out of breath.

Doppo blinked at him hazily. It was only two glasses, not thirty. So, not even close enough. Not that he wanted to be, anyway. As if Jyuto didn’t need the extra alcohol more.

“I-I should be the one asking that,” he managed, “to you.”

Jyuto stared at him for a moment, then quickly skimmed his tongue over his own lips.

“Well, then,” he simply said, his hands on Doppo’s waist as Doppo let himself be pushed backward into one of the stalls. Jyuto immediately kicked the door closed before trapping Doppo flat against the wall and seizing his lips for a kiss again.

A soft moan escaped Doppo as he quickly looped his arms around Jyuto’s neck, closing his eyes and relishing in the wet, heavy press of Jyuto’s mouth on his. Jyuto was kissing him. And Jyuto kissed like he rapped. Not an ounce of the tact he’d been showing throughout the night was there when his tongue ran over Doppo’s mouth, coaxing his lips apart so he could lick him open. Doppo’s tongue suddenly felt like lead, but Jyuto dragged it around with his own like it was cotton, and Doppo let him, too overwhelmed, too pleased and curious to try anything on his own.

Doppo decided this was Jyuto, or at the very least, a very real side of him under one of the many masks he had.

Jyuto smelled good, tasted good. His mouth held the flavor of the drink they shared before, except Doppo found the experience much more enticing when he licked the lingering scent of lemon and gin off Jyuto’s tongue while Jyuto’s fingers pressed tightly into his hips, pulling him closer and fucking up into him to the quick, messy motion of their kissing.

Doppo rutted his hips against him, relishing in the feel of their lengths rubbing against each other, until Jyuto ran his hands down and grabbed his ass, forcing a surprised gasp from Doppo’s throat, his eyes snapping open.

“Ah! F-fuck...” The instant he broke the kiss, Jyuto’s mouth closed over the pulse of his neck. Drool clung to the corner of Doppo’s mouth, and Doppo lapped it up before tipping his head to the side, pliant under Jyuto’s hold as Jyuto nipped alongside his neck, rippling goose bumps wherever he pressed his mouth on.

Jyuto really was giving, and definitely way more than what Doppo expected from him. It would haunt him later, wouldn’t it?

Doppo’s body stuttered as he gasped out for air, and he was unable to stop himself from jerking his hips, unashamedly grinding his erection against Jyuto’s thigh. Jyuto let out a low purr, and his lips left his neck with one last loud kiss before lining his face up with Doppo’s.

Doppo sucked in a deep breath and disentangled his arms from Jyuto’s neck to hold onto his shoulders.

He wished he could stop finding reasons why Jyuto looked absolutely stunning.

His face was flushed, his breathing heavy, showing in the way his mouth opened and closed slightly around the thin air they shared. His brow was tight over those luminous, lidded eyes, the glasses shielding them askew, having slipped down to the middle of his nose.

Doppo’s natural reaction was to put them back in place.

Naturally, it was a stupid thing to do, judging by the way Jyuto stared at him, his eyes wide.

Shit. “I-I’m sorry,” Doppo blurted out, even though he didn’t mean it. Jyuto looked good with his glasses on as much as he did without them.

Doppo didn’t want to apologize. He wanted Jyuto to see.

Jyuto seemed to figure that out. “You’re either very generous,” he said with a smug smile, “or extremely vain.”

Neither? Both? Doppo was positively sure he looked as red as a tomato, though.

“Well, it’s fine,” Jyuto went on when Doppo remained silent, his fingers giving his backside a soft squeeze. “I like to see who I’m dealing with.”

The admission glided out of his mouth so smoothly that it made Doppo’s stomach both curl in anticipation and twist uncomfortably. Braggart. Jyuto had a way with words, but it was no wonder he also ought to have a more active, richer, sexual life. Probably. And now that Doppo was going to be a part of it, an impulsive laugh almost bubbled up his belly, the situation extremely ironic for him, but it got stuck in his throat.

His lips were already parted before Jyuto leaned in and wormed his tongue into his mouth again, this time pulling him into a more languid, slow kiss. Doppo responded keenly, matching Jyuto’s thoughtful rhythm, both angling their heads carefully to reach where they couldn’t before, testing what they liked and what made them respond the most. Jyuto, Doppo found after a weak attempt at leading the kiss, would either shy away from his tongue or close his lips around it and huff amusedly, much to Doppo’s growing chagrin. Doppo didn’t hide his frustration, growling low under his breath when Jyuto’s lips smirked against his own.

Doppo wanted to ruin him, and more.

He heard Jyuto sigh as he slid his hands upward, desperately tangling his fingers in Jyuto’s perfect hair. It was cool and smooth to the touch, and the more his fingers twisted, the more the scent of gel rose from it. Doppo ran his shaky hands all over it, intending to imprint every presence of them there, and couldn’t help the smile tugging at his heart when his nails dragged hard across his scalp and Jyuto’s smiling lips parted into a loud gasp, the sweet sound making Doppo’s cock throb in satisfaction.

Jyuto didn’t disappoint.

Doppo found himself hyperaware of every little sound bouncing off the walls around them. Listening to his own noises was awkward, he didn’t like how he sounded, but when he focused on how Jyuto did when he took in a sharp breath, or the moans he made when Doppo tugged at his hair, that masochist, or the wet smacking of their lips, or the rustling of their clothes as Jyuto slipped his hands under Doppo’s t-shirt, God, yes.

He wasn’t wearing his gloves anymore, thank God. They felt nice, but they couldn’t compare to the feeling of his bare hands roaming over Doppo’s lower back, his nails digging in his sensitive skin and rousing goose bumps from his flesh. Doppo swooned at the attention, and let their kissing break to bury his face into the crook of Jyuto’s neck, inhaling deeply against his scorching skin and simply enjoying the feeling of Jyuto’s hands bringing them as close as they were physically allowed, their body heat seeping through their clothes. Doppo thought he could really lose himself here, with Jyuto everywhere around him. It would be fitting, to perish where he’d threatened to flush his enemies down into. Just... not before getting something out of it.

“J-Jyuto,” he moaned, eyes glazed over as Jyuto nuzzled his neck. Blindly, he reached a hand down between them, past the press of their hips and down Jyuto’s groin, and Jyuto’s body instantly went taut as Doppo began clumsily running his palm up and down the thick length protruding from his pants.

Jyuto hissed as he slowly swung his hips back and forth to the motion of Doppo’s hand, letting Doppo feel him, and he really did — hard, long and thick.

“Doppo,” he groaned, voice warm and raspy, detaching himself from Doppo’s neck, his tongue sweeping lightly over his own mouth. Their eyes met, his pupils blown so wide that Doppo had a hard time telling black from green. Despite that, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Do you like this, Doppo?” he asked breathily yet much too comfortably as he bucked his hips into Doppo’s hand.

The sudden sound of a door opening and music drifting into the room made them both jolt. Footsteps followed, and if a cuss didn’t escape Doppo’s mouth it was because the acquiescence in Jyuto’s behavior caught his attention more, and the question of just how many he’d had against this same wall had already settled stubbornly in Doppo’s mind. Had Jyuto been seen sauntering into the restroom with someone else before tonight? Had that young bartender make any actual advances at him, insinuated the cop to do what he wished with him, here? Where everyone could walk in? Where anyone could hear?

Doppo knew better than to let himself feel anything about that. He was better off shaking anything that had to do with his sensitivity out of his system with a false pretense of conformity. Most everything good never really ever stuck, and he seldom fought back.

But.

That twinge of something crude and possessive clenching in his gut lingered, and it intensified as he focused back on the lust-ridden look on Jyuto’s face, his eyes hazy and heavy on Doppo, however nonchalant he appeared to be, however unaffected he looked with Doppo’s hand on his pants.

Belatedly, he heard the sinks on the other side of the stall still running, the casual chatter of more than two people, the warm puffs of air coming from Jyuto’s mouth only his ears could pick up on.

Ha. Right. How many people had really seen Jyuto — not from the grandstands, or a big screen, or from the other side of a bar? How many had seen the way Jyuto’s lips curled up when he taunted, cussed to his opponent’s face? Or the way his eyes opened wide and his pupils dilated when his words landed a blow, drawing blood out of a bruise? How many had breathed in the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat and dust and worn-out shoes at the same time?

Jyuto was not going to scratch deep into Doppo’s skin to pluck out his nerves and leave them raw and unattended. At the end of this — whatever this was going to be — Doppo was going to make it so that every time Jyuto walked into a fucking public bathroom he couldn’t think of anything but Doppo having his way with him and the feel of Doppo’s skin weighing in his fingertips.

That was the only thought swirling in Doppo’s head as he pressed his fingers around Jyuto’s erection tighter. The choked grunt that reverberated in Jyuto’s throat went unnoticed by the people on the other side of the stall, but not by Doppo, who kept running his palm up and down Jyuto’s length faster, even letting out a soft moan of his own when his nails caught in the ridges of the plump head. He dared squeeze around it, feeling it give in just right to the press of his fingers.

“Fuck,” Jyuto cursed through a whisper, his head hanging low, his lower lip sucked between his teeth. His fingers, which had been holding Doppo’s waist with care, were now clawing into his skin.

It spurred Doppo on, his mouth a breath away from Jyuto’s ear as he whispered into it, “Be quiet, Jyuto.”

Jyuto’s hips suddenly bucked up onto his hand, either on impulse or on purpose. It didn’t matter. Doppo loved that response, loved the power, and let his fingers wander above the button of his pants. Jyuto didn’t stop him, so he unhooked it from its buttonhole before carefully sliding the zipper down, opening to a glimpse of Jyuto’s underwear stretching over his hardness.

He realized they were alone again when music flowed into the room for the amount of time the restroom door remained open, then closed behind a stream of whooping and laughter.

Doppo withdrew his hand then, satisfied with the lidded look Jyuto gave him when he raised his head.

“You’re a sadist,” he said, a lopsided smirk on his mouth. It takes one, Doppo thought. “Aren’t you enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

Frighteningly so. Doppo truly enjoyed that. It was scarily exhilarating. He enjoyed the effect he had on Jyuto. He enjoyed how startled Jyuto looked when both of his hands flew up his neck and yanked his collar open, the fancy, little chain hanging from both of its sides snapping in half. Doppo instantly sought Jyuto’s lips for a harsh kiss before the man could offer any sign of protest, but despite the startled moan he got in return, he felt Jyuto smile against his mouth, like he couldn’t care less that Doppo had ruined something it would cost him half a paycheck.

Good. Because Doppo didn’t care, either.

Doppo clenched his fists, feeling the ends of the metal dig into his skin for a moment before he hurried back to fiddle with the rest of the buttons of Jyuto’s shirt. Jyuto’s hands immediately moved to Doppo’s waist, stopping on his belt, lips still clinging together. They breathed hard through their noses, their bodies reacting desperately to the tug of each other’s clothes until Doppo fisted his shirt and pulled him toward him, making their cocks rub together again. Jyuto gasped, and Doppo finally took the chance to sink his teeth on the fleshy swell of Jyuto’s lower lip, a languid moan escaping both of them.

As he fumbled with the last button of his shirt, Doppo drew back from the kiss, letting Jyuto take his time working open his jeans. Curious, he lowered his gaze, eyes catching on the newly uncovered span of smooth skin and toned flesh beneath his hands.

Well, damn.

Doppo swallowed hard, barely muffling the whine in his throat.

Jyuto’s shirt opened to his lean torso like a freshly unwrapped gift Doppo’s fingers itched to bury in. He probably exercised a lot at some point. Stupid. Of course he does. He was a fucking cop. This was Jyuto, who dealt with yakuza and ex-soldiers. This man was dangerous, his muscles taut and defined where Doppo was lopsided and bland. This man could destroy him first, with a stupid gun or his stupid good looks. Knowing that made a fizzing sensation rush throughout his nerves. Knowing that was as worrying as it was empowering.

Doppo tentatively reached out to touch him, tracing the lines of his soft abdominals with the rough pads of his fingertips, and down to the firm curve of his belly. A distinctive round scar rested on the side of his stomach; however annoyed he suddenly felt, his eyes didn’t linger on it, trailing down to the delicately trimmed lines of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his pants.

Doppo’s tongue coiled around the growing wetness inside his mouth.

“I’ve been wondering if the carpet matched the drapes,” Jyuto suddenly said, making Doppo blink and drop his gaze further. The fly of his own jeans was already down, and Jyuto had his forefinger hooked on the elastic of his boxer briefs, tugging the fabric down his pelvis, exposing part of his cock.

Doppo looked up at him with a slight frown, his cheeks flushed. What the fuck. He couldn’t tell whether he was irritated or surprised.

“I-I’ve been wondering when you’d say something really stupid,” he grumbled, “Jyuto.”

Jyuto’s eyes grew wide, but the next moment he hung his head with an airy laugh, his shoulders shaking as he pressed his lips into a thin smile. And, honestly, so did Doppo.

“I’m glad to hear this was my first time. I’m sorry.” Jyuto looked up, their eyes meeting. “Forgive me.” He leaned forward to kiss Doppo again quick on the lips. Doppo kissed him back.

Jyuto’s mouth then moved to the side, pressing another brief kiss on Doppo’s jaw, below his ear, as he twirled a strand of his hair around his finger.

“Doppo…?” Jyuto said, his voice laced with question. “Let me fuck you.”

Doppo’s breath hitched, his eyes fluttering closed. That had been the plan all along, but actually hearing it made his knees buckle. Feeling Jyuto’s hand leave his underwear and slide down his back, pressing a strong finger below his tailbone, made his head spin.

Another hand trailed up his face, knuckles skimming over his cheek almost sweetly. Jyuto was a proud provocateur, but, distantly, Doppo thought he didn’t deserve half the nice things the cop was doing to him.

He couldn’t help giving a nod, though, breathing out a choked, “Y-yeah.”

There was a thoughtful pause before Jyuto slid something in his hand. Doppo opened his eyes and instantly closed his fingers around it as Jyuto told him, “Hold this and lock the door.”

Only after Doppo did that, he looked down and opened his hand, revealing a small bottle of... lube?

Lube, was what Jyuto got from the bar.

That tiny pang of possessiveness rushed back to him as he scrambled for words. “Th-this is… what…” Why.

“Mm?” Jyuto hummed and leaned toward him curiously, an eyebrow raising. “What’d he give me?”

Doppo snapped up at him with a scandalized look as Jyuto inspected the bottle’s label. “You — you don’t know?” he asked, exasperated.

Jyuto paused a moment. “I… I didn’t exactly check.” He met Doppo’s eyes, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“Is this even...” Was that even legal? Of course not. This was Jyuto. Fuck. “Wh-where would you...”

“Well...” Jyuto hesitated for a moment. “There’s a room in the upper floor... It’s probably being used right now, and...” He didn’t finish his thought.

Doppo didn’t need him to. “H-how do you know—”

Jyuto huffed out a laugh. “How do I know about the room and the discreet but questionable little storage of intimate lubricant back there? Hah.” A light flush dusted over his face. “I know, I just… don’t engage in it.”

Oh. Well, if that didn’t stroke Doppo’s ego a little.

He still scanned Jyuto’s face, searching for anything that contradicted his words. “Oh.”

“‘Oh’?” Jyuto let out a choked laugh, leaning back to run a hand over the back of his head. “Just what image do you have of me?”

Not the most puritan, for sure. Even if Jyuto didn’t sound mad at all but rather amused, Doppo couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty. “I-I—” he stammered, his face heating up, mind reeling with a lot of information. One thought lingered, and it was the twisted one that contributing to Jyuto’s degrading reputation in a way no one else had certainly had its charm.

Firsts jokes were out of the question, though. His arrogance levels weren’t high enough to indulge himself in any, anyway. He just wouldn’t be able to look at that bartender in the eyes ever again, a concern of hardly any importance for the future, compared to where he stood now. Doppo’s fingers tightened around the lube. This was happening, and, in his hazy state, as he stared down at the small bottle in his hand, seeing no condom to go with it, he blurted out the first thing to come to his mind when no protection was involved.

“I-I’m clean.”

Which, he decided barely a second later, was a stupid thing to say, judging by the appalled look Jyuto gave him, eyebrows arched high over his glasses like someone had just asked him to go bareback, in a public bathroom, ha, ha. Fucking genius.

Unable to hold his stare, Doppo dragged his gaze downward when his eyes stopped at two small foil packets between Jyuto’s fingers, peeking halfway out of the slit of a wallet.

Oh.

Oh, well. Ha, ha. Fuck me.

Was he supposed to make this memorable for Jyuto? Sure. Will Jyuto remember this for a completely different reason than Doppo had intended him to? Hell, sure.

Jyuto let a silent moment pass before he barked a short laugh. Doppo’s ears were burning.

“I-I’m sorr—”

“You’re thinking with your dick again, Doppo?”

Like you’re not, Doppo thought, the words clinging to his throat, dangerously close to his lips.

“You were about to do something reckless before as well, weren’t you?” Jyuto prodded with more intent, the reminder rekindling the fizzy tightness spreading inside of Doppo.

Before… “I-I…” I don’t know. He sure was about to do something reckless now.

“Hm?” Jyuto hummed, now leaning forward to speak in his face, his breath tickling Doppo’s cheek. “Did the thought of gutting that guy turn you on that much? I’m almost jealous.”

Doppo raised his face at that, his eyes slitting into a glower.

It wasn’t him who got a hard-on watching it happen.

“A-and what did turn you on,” he breathed out. Despite the blush on his face, his tone was challenging. “Huh?”

Jyuto actually blinked at him. “Me?”

“You shouldn’t have stopped me.” The words burst out of Doppo’s mouth in a heated rush and he swallowed around the refreshing emptiness in his throat without any guilt. The sensation was so close to when he spoke into his microphone that it didn’t feel right to stop himself. “Could’ve put up a good show.”

There was something extremely rewarding in hearing the way Jyuto’s breath stuck, the taunting gleam in his eyes dulling as his gaze widened on Doppo’s face, roamed all over it.

That feeling only intensified when Jyuto skittered his eyes away, a shaky laugh suddenly bubbling out of him. Despite that fleeting instant of transparency, Jyuto slid his gaze back to him with a vicious grin and lifted a hand to Doppo’s face, trailing his thumb over his lower lip.

“I would have loved to see that,” he admitted, “but then we wouldn’t be here.”

That alone was enough to make Doppo’s cock throb with interest again. He had to fight the urge to push his tongue out to touch that finger with it. Instead, his eyes caught on the smug curve at the corner of Jyuto’s mouth, the glint of his teeth, the soft flutter of his eyelids.

“I know you are,” Jyuto said after a while.

“What?”

Doppo stared at him questionably, eyes following Jyuto’s hand as it left his lip to finally take one condom out of his wallet, dangling it between their faces. Oh, that. How?

“I like to know more about my enemy before a battle,” he simply said, leaning forward to speak against Doppo’s lips, “I am, as well,” before sealing the deal with a lingering kiss.

Jyuto still handed him the condom when they pulled apart, taking back the lube from Doppo in exchange.

“The size should be fine.” Doppo stared at it dumbly and back up. “Be nice to the people cleaning this place, all right?”

Jyuto’s playful wink didn’t stop the heat spreading over Doppo’s cheeks. “I know,” he muttered with a scowl.

His hands were shaking slightly as he tore open the foil. The confines of his jeans had kept him warm and cozy, and the difference of temperature made him hiss as he pulled his pants along with his underwear down to the middle of his thighs, his breathing becoming shallow.

He was decently hard, his erection springing out shamelessly under Jyuto’s gaze. A light sheen of precum covered the reddened tip, making it glisten. Before his nerves could fully take over, Jyuto leaned forward, closing his mouth over the line of his neck. A small moan tickled Doppo’s throat, but his body found the attention calming as he positioned the condom on the tip and tried to move some of the precum that had gathered there down the rest of his length.

“A-ah...” he finally exhaled, relief gushing into him as he gave his cock a few experimental strokes, testing the friction.

“Mm,” Jyuto hummed as he moved up into his ear, making Doppo squirm when he felt his tongue twirl around his earlobe. “Feel good?”

“Nnh... y-yeah...”

The sound of a bottle being uncapped made Doppo halt, though. Begrudgingly, he stopped the motion of his hand, his palm facing up between their bodies, anticipating the spurt of lube.

Not Jyuto’s fingers glistening with it. “Um.”

Jyuto immediately looked up at the sound, his eyebrows quirking up almost questioningly. Despite the slight tremble of his hand — Doppo noticed — he managed to soften his gaze, giving him a pampering look.

“Ah, my bad. Did you want to do it?”

The room warmed up impossibly more. Doppo’s voice got stuck in his throat. The only reply he could manage was a no with his head and a small, muffled sound that he hoped Jyuto would take as a it’s fine if you do it.

Fine. Surreal. What the fuck.

Jyuto seemed to be satisfied with that, and tucked the lube back into his pocket. He stepped to the side as he slid his arm between their bodies, eventually reaching between Doppo’s legs. Jyuto’s eyes never left his as he did, as if keen on studying every little reaction. Doppo had to look away.

“F-fuck.” His body gave a pleasurable jolt when Jyuto’s hand briefly, finally, slid past his balls, his belly tensing up in anticipation, his head swimming. Keep standing, it told him, but standing like that felt awkward, so Doppo lowered his pants just enough to prop his left foot over the toilet behind Jyuto. Granted, it was embarrassing but Jyuto didn’t object, seemingly content with having more room to move his arm.

Their eyes locked again.

“I’ll make it good for you,” Jyuto told him, as if Doppo needed convincing and his mind wasn’t already made up.

And regardless, hearing that made him feel dizzy.

He was honestly curious. If those fingers were half as good as they felt on his skin, Doppo wanted them. He wanted to know how they felt laced with Jyuto’s promises or without them.

Jyuto placed his right hand on the inside of Doppo’s thigh, pushing it back slightly to spread his legs apart more.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he cooed. The unexpected attention made Doppo’s breath catch in his throat. A second later, he felt Jyuto’s lubed fingers skimming over his entrance.

The first contact made his hips jump, but he masked the reaction by pulling himself closer to Jyuto’s right shoulder as Jyuto began moving a single digit in circles around his hole, massaging intently and testing the clench of his body. Eventually, the tip slipped inside him slowly, coaxing a soft moan from Doppo’s lips.

“Fuck, just like that,” Jyuto breathed out as he began dipping his finger in and out intermittently before finally sliding it up to his knuckle. “Good?”

A tight-lipped ‘mhm’ against Jyuto’s shoulder was all Doppo gave him. His breath grew shallow and his skin had started heating up, sweat pooling on his neck and forehead. Part of his body automatically tried to fight the intrusion twisting inside him, but the gentle motion of Jyuto’s wrist distracted him, as so did the press of Jyuto’s mouth against his ear. It was almost endearing, if Doppo didn’t know he could take it a bit harder. He was sure Jyuto needed it as well, and the fact he was delaying his own pleasure was disconcerting. It made guilt seep through Doppo’s nerves.

“J-Jyuto… I-It’s fine.”

“Mm? More?”

“Y-yeah...”

Nodding slowly into Jyuto’s shoulder, Doppo held onto him tighter as Jyuto pulled his finger out, nudging back at his entrance with two. As slow as he was, the sting was noticeable this time, but Doppo still couldn’t keep the stream of little moans slipping through his bitten lips every time Jyuto pulled his fingers out to thrust them back in a little deeper next.

“Shit,” Jyuto hissed when Doppo’s muscles clenched around him, his hand stilling for a moment. He then rolled his fingers around, coating his walls slick with lube without pulling them out. “That feels nice.”

Doppo’s mouth fell open with a languid moan, his eyes shutting tightly, either at the praise behind that compliment or at the fingers moving inside him — he wasn’t sure. His knees started trembling, causing him to drop his weight onto Jyuto, a small sob punching out of him as his balls pressed snuggly against Jyuto’s hand. Seeking more of that friction, Doppo couldn’t help rolling his hips forward, unabashedly rutting the base of his cock against Jyuto’s hand as the swollen tip of his length rubbed up against Jyuto’s forearm.

That little semblance of control lasted all but an instant, and Doppo’s body instantly tightened up when Jyuto’s hand wrapped around his cock firmly, pumping him to the same slow motion of the fingers twisting in his ass.

“A-ah!” Doppo gasped out, his abdomen tensing. “Jyu-ngh—”

“You’re so hard already.” Jyuto let out a low hum, giving Doppo’s shaft a squeeze. “Well, it just makes things easier.”

The fingers curling inside and around Doppo — the words — made his body clench and go soft at the same time, and for a moment, he was unable to decide where he wanted it more. He tried to focus on keeping his balance, and taking whatever he was being given… until he wasn’t. Why—

“Come on,” Jyuto said then, voice thick with provocation. His fingers were still buried to the hilt, but he wasn’t moving anymore. “Keep going,” he breathed out into Doppo’s ear, low, commanding. “Doppo.”

Doppo forced his eyes open slowly, finding wet speckles blearing his vision.

“You like this?” Jyuto went on, and Doppo couldn’t suppress a shudder. “Show me.”

It took him a quiet moment to make his body react to the order, and then he lay back flat against the wall, hissing at the slightest change of angle of the fingers inside him. A brief flash of embarrassment washed over him, and he consciously averted Jyuto’s expectant gaze in the process, unused to owning anyone’s attention in this way. Pathetic. However, as he placed his hands on Jyuto’s shoulders, he felt his brain push him through that moment of hesitance. Slowly, he began grinding his hips back on Jyuto’s fingers before thrusting forward into the tight circle of his hand, and again, and again, and it was so frustratingly good.

“There you go,” Jyuto murmured encouragingly when Doppo found a languid rhythm, and fuck if that didn’t make him grow thicker. “Think you can handle three?”

Doppo gave him a jerky nod. Three. More. No difference. Just as soon, Jyuto’s palm closed over the swollen head of his cock, and Doppo’s muscles went taut, his hips twitching uncontrollably on their own accord as Jyuto flicked his thumb in circles on the hollow spot under the tip. Doppo whined through it, and Jyuto let out a pleased sound as he pressed back into his entrance with a third finger.

“Good?” he prodded.

Doppo gritted his teeth, little sobs slipping through them as his head thrashed to the sides. Not enough. He moaned yes, anyway, and felt himself leak. Sensitive. But not enough, because if it was, he would be coming. And he wasn’t because Jyuto was taking his damn time with him, which was so absurd.

As someone whose thoughts reeled off speedily, and sometimes with no filter nor control whatsoever, Doppo’s mind was currently running sluggishly. Need, arousal and pleasure caused some things to slip past him. One thought lingered, though, and when his mind cleared out and he felt the reverence he was being treated with — strong, constant, real — he realized how in control he felt he was. It was almost scary.

Jyuto kept going, the fingers on his cock now back to stroking him long and leisurely while the ones in his ass stretched him slow and wide for a silent moment during which all Doppo could hear were his own bitten sounds.

“You look good like this, Doppo.”

Doppo clamped his lips shut, a whine drawling out at the praise as his shaky hands tightened on Jyuto’s shirt, fisting his collar aside. He blearily realized he’d shut his eyes again, and opened them to a patch of precious, hot skin he buried his face into without a second thought. Nuzzling his nose between Jyuto’s neck and shoulder, he inhaled into his scent like he could breathe air out of it.

So he wished. A third lung would have been nice. Something softer against his back, too. He wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, but he wished they weren’t in a damn bathroom, that he could push Jyuto back and ride him properly. Shit. How would Jyuto be in bed? Underneath him, wide open for Doppo to touch and taste?

Feeling his mouth too empty, he closed his lips around the tender length of Jyuto’s neck, his tongue drawing circles over salt and thin skin. He barely sunk his teeth on it, gently, feeling the flesh give so easily. So easy to mark. So easy to break. The low moan that rumbled from Jyuto’s throat filled him with great satisfaction and urged him to keep his mouth on him, suckling the skin between his teeth.

“Ah—fuck,” Jyuto groaned, tipping his head backward almost submissively. The motion of his hands was falling slightly out of rhythm, but Doppo still found pleasure in them. “You’re good with your mouth, after all,” Jyuto goaded, and Doppo was this close to actually biting him, but Jyuto didn’t stop, his words rushing on. “Mm, you were so hot out there, too.”

Doppo wasn’t sure how well he understood himself, but he did have some ideas of what turned him on. And now, as his body betrayed him and he was unable to stop himself from twitching helplessly, so did Jyuto.

“Oh?” Jyuto said, voice slick and full with pleasant revelation. He suddenly stopped moving his hands completely, his fingers withdrawing from Doppo, leaving Doppo’s sensitive body aching for them. “You got all tight. Did you like that?”

“Sh-shut up...” Doppo gritted out into Jyuto’s shoulder.

Jyuto didn’t — and, honestly, Doppo didn’t want him to — and turned his head so his lips moved hot and wet against Doppo’s ear. “But I liked it... this reaction,” he said, his fingers pressing back inside him, twisting and pushing up further, pointy and long. Deep. Not opening, not quite stretching him—

“J-Jyuto...”

Searching.

When Doppo realized that, Jyuto pulled his fingers out and thrust them back in fast, curling them against somewhere that had Doppo tossing his head back and bucking his hips sharply. His eyes shut on instinct as a loud moan drawled out from his throat, which he tried to muffle by clamping his hand tightly against his mouth. His vision swam as he opened his eyes again to find Jyuto looking at him, his gaze lidded but intense. Doppo felt nude, despite being fully clothed.

“I-I...” His lips shook against his palm. He wanted to raise his voice but the words left him in a breathless whisper. “Wh-what are you doing?”

It was a stupid thing to ask. He knew what Jyuto was doing. He was giving Doppo what he needed. Doppo just wasn’t sure he needed it now, before Jyuto even pulled himself out of his pants. It didn’t make sense. Jyuto was confusing. Honestly, Doppo hadn’t expected much to begin with — a quick fuck to let their pent-up feelings out of the way, sure. Not. This. It was almost as if Jyuto cared to see Doppo enjoy it.

Jyuto blinked out of his dumbness with a groan, his lips parting slowly as he pulled his fingers out of Doppo with a loud squelch. Doppo’s muscles closed around the sudden emptiness, but opened up instantly as Jyuto pressed back inside him over and over again, causing another jolt of sweet pleasure to blitz through his body.

His vision started blurring around the edges. Trying to breathe from his nose alone was making him equal parts pleasantly and unbearably giddy, but he refused to lower his hand, refused to let his voice sound over the noises already bouncing in his throat. They were being loud enough. Doppo was being loud enough on his own, even if he couldn’t exactly hear himself that well over the thrumming of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

But Jyuto left his cock so he could yank his hand away, and then Doppo was finally able to cough the mouthful of dense air that had been clogging his throat. The sensation was both relieving and exhilarating. Rewarding. It always was, even if no one he’d fucked ever cared enough to let him have that.

His eyelids fell shut with a sigh as his voice pushed up his throat, eager to come out, but Jyuto immediately silenced him with a searing kiss, all lips and tongue pressing against Doppo’s own. Doppo tried to kiss back, but as Jyuto’s fingers kept probing against the bundle of nerves inside him, all he managed was to keep his mouth soft and open as Jyuto licked inside him and swallowed up the sounds he’d been trying so hard to quell.

Only then did Jyuto let go of his hand to start pumping his cock again. The thought that the man could probably feel him pulsating in his fist made Doppo whine, and suddenly he was feeling too much. His hand desperately clawed at the fingers wrapped around him, begging it to stop. Not trusting himself to be able to go another round if he were to cum now, he jerked back abruptly, breaking their kiss and pushing against Jyuto’s shoulders with his other arm to keep a distance between them.

“Mmh-ah! Wait!”

Jyuto immediately, albeit slowly, pulled his fingers out of him. Doppo couldn’t feel him on his dick, either. A wave of relief instantly flowed back into his body, and for what he felt was a long moment all he could register was the sound of his own pants. His lungs burned, and his lips parted heavily, each gulp of damp air he sucked in drying the inside of his still much too empty mouth.

He couldn’t remember edging himself ever feeling this good.

Don’t let him know. Don’t—

A feathery touch against his lips made his eyes flutter open to Jyuto’s thumb hovering over his mouth, the hand that had been teasing his dick now inches from his face. Jyuto seemed taken aback over this, blinking at Doppo with uncertainty in his slightly widened eyes, but didn’t pull his hand away.

That was a good look on him. Cautious. Expectant.

Doppo tentatively craned his neck forward.

Curious.

Jyuto didn’t move when the tip of Doppo’s tongue teased the tip of his finger. He didn’t pull away when Doppo sucked his thumb inside his mouth. The hiss rushing through his teeth urged Doppo to swirl his tongue around him eagerly, tasting a faint semblance of latex, then salty skin, and then it was like tasting nothing at all, and it was perfect all the same.

“Fuck,” Jyuto exhaled shakily, eyes lidded and fixed on Doppo’s mouth almost reverently. He grew bolder after Doppo closed his eyes, and began rubbing his thumb over the flat surface of his tongue. Doppo let him, toying with the idea of Jyuto curling his fingers around his microphone during his next rap battle and wishing they were in Doppo’s mouth instead. It was a silly thought, but it fueled his confidence as Jyuto started thrusting his thumb back and forth. It wasn’t his dick, but Doppo kept his lips closed around it like it could be, sucking on it until he caught it between his canines and nibbled gently on the flesh, making Jyuto grunt.

Suddenly, the weight on his tongue was gone, a thread of drool ready to ooze from his mouth before Jyuto drank it up with a sloppy kiss. It only lasted so long before he held Doppo back by the chin, his voice breathy and low.

“Turn around.”

Doppo nodded absently, but stayed put, his heart leaping against his ribs at the sight of Jyuto pulling his cock out of his underwear. He was hard, everything he imagined him to be after feeling it up his ass through his pants, and better. Slightly curved and just about ready — maybe had been for a while. And now Doppo felt a bit guilty for it, but he pushed that feeling to the back of his mind when Jyuto started lubing himself up with a breathy groan.

Doppo swallowed hard and watched him for one, two seconds, enough for the sight before him to get burned into his mind and render any other jerk off material useless. Resisting the urge to swipe his palm over Jyuto’s bare chest, he turned around, his fingers flexing as he bent his elbows and pressed them lightly against the wall. His fists were loose, the rest of him not so much, and he couldn’t help his skin from prickling hot as he waited. Behind him, Jyuto seemed intent on not making too much noise, but Doppo could still pick up on his loud breathing and the slick noises that roused from the friction between his palm and his dick.

He felt himself flush even further when Jyuto rolled the hem of his shirt up his waist. Then, Jyuto’s hands were on him — one on his ass, holding one cheek apart, and the other rubbing the tip of his cock up and down his entrance.

A moan jumped up Doppo’s throat when the head of Jyuto’s cock finally breached him, and he reached down to palm himself. Jyuto hissed a curse as he splayed his clean hand over Doppo’s lower back, rubbing his thumb in circles over the base of his spine as he kept pushing in.

“Ah,” Jyuto breathed out, “you feel good.”

Doppo’s belly curled through it, and the feeling of finally having Jyuto buried in him made his heartbeat spike, every cell of his body lighting up as his insides adjusted to the girth pulsing inside him. Filling.

Jyuto’s hands suddenly left him, and then Doppo felt him move to the side, a rustling sound following seconds later. He let himself be distracted by it as he stroked himself loosely, curiously twisting his body to look at Jyuto. A quick peek over his shoulder let him see the man stretching and grabbing toilet paper to wipe his hands on before holding Doppo’s hips.

He was too much.

The tension in Doppo’s neck hurt him, but he didn’t take his eyes off him. Jyuto didn’t meet his gaze; he was looking down, his hair a damp mess falling over his eyes as he watched, enthralled, the spot where their bodies were connected and his cock disappeared into Doppo.

Doppo couldn’t control the shudder breaking through him, and the little noise that escaped him made Jyuto look up slowly, his eyebrows curving up when their gazes crossed. He blinked at Doppo almost timidly, eyes widening on him as if he’d been caught doing his first felony. It was almost believable, if Doppo didn’t know any better.

He wordlessly turned back to the wall, rolling his neck in relief before letting it sag between his shoulders.

The fingers on his hips tightened, and little, breathy noises spilled from them both as Jyuto finally started pulling out and thrusting back in slowly, letting Doppo accommodate to him. Each time it felt as if he would get a little more inside, and Doppo would feel him a little bit longer, a little bit more.

He managed to keep his voice in check, but couldn’t stop his hips from snapping backward to meet Jyuto’s hips, urging him to go faster. It felt like ages since Doppo had anything remotely close to a real dick inside him, but he was not delicate, and he knew neither was Jyuto.

“Jyuto,” he rasped out, pushing himself backward.

Jyuto laughed airily as he moved one of his hands up Doppo’s shoulder, gripping him tightly. “I know. I’ve got you.”

Soon, the tentative press of his hips flowed into something more steady and fluid, and Jyuto started thrusting into him more vigorously, pushing Doppo further up against the wall. As Doppo opened up to him, the friction from before melted into a slick, smooth glide now, and the quick snaps of Jyuto’s hips made little, breathless sounds fall from his lips.

“Hey,” Jyuto panted, a bit breathlessly and a lot amusedly, “someone’s going to hear.”

“Sh-shit,” Doppo exhaled and bit his lip, his eyes fluttering closed. He didn’t need to look back to feel Jyuto’s satisfied gaze burning into his skull, almost as strong as having his length pulsing into him. Gritting his teeth, he buried his face into the crook of his elbow. Cheeky of Jyuto to assume anyone would pay attention to Doppo’s pathetic noises and ignore the constant slap of their skin, or Jyuto’s own pants.

Jyuto then slid his hand to the crook of his neck, and Doppo felt himself tighten up when his thumb dug right into the back of his nape. The moment those fingers pressed above his clavicle, so dangerously close to his throat, he could almost feel his airway shrinking on its own, and his mouth fell open with a choked gasp.

“Mm?” Jyuto stopped moving for a moment, then drew himself closer, speaking next to Doppo’s ear as he fucked into him slowly. “What’s that?”

Doppo was both relieved and hesitant to hear no teasing in his voice, only genuine curiosity. Worry, perhaps. Logical. Doppo had sounded more like he was in pain than in pleasure. Both.

He shook his head. “N-nothing.”

“Sure?” Jyuto prodded, his movements still easy and relaxed.

“Y-yes…” Doppo sighed, “m-more, please...”

Jyuto made an acquiescent sound. “Gladly,” he said, and the gentle brush of his fingers against Doppo’s jaw made Doppo’s skin tingle with adoration. As he mouthed alongside his ear, he slowly ran his hand up Doppo’s hair. Doppo tilted his head back, moaning softly and enjoying the slow drag of his fingers for as long as he could before Jyuto dropped his hand back to his hip. His movements suddenly slowed to a languid grinding, and Doppo enjoyed the feeling of Jyuto’s crotch molding perfectly to the shape of his ass.

Doppo’s skin jumped when he felt Jyuto’s hands slip inside his shirt, wide open over his abdomen. The intrusive conviction that the man would be deterred by the imperfections of his body in any moment kept Doppo on edge and rendered him motionless for a few seconds, but as Jyuto’s hands kept moving and exploring, he couldn’t help himself from drawing forward toward his touch, his back bending in a sinuous arch.

He opened his eyes to gaze between his legs; the tip of the condom was filled white where it was empty when he put it on, and watching the way his cock curved up proudly made a furious flush creep up his face that only grew hotter when Jyuto’s devious hands found his nipples, rolling them between his fingers until they hardened under his touch.

“A-ah!”

“Feel good?” Jyuto purred.

“Y-yeah,” Doppo replied almost automatically, feeling unbearably hot. A whine clogged his throat as he pressed his forehead against the wall in front of him, expecting to cool his skin with it, but the tiles had long turned warm and slippery where his breathing had fog them up and his clammy hands had scrambled to hold onto them.

“Doppo,” was the only thing he heard next before one of Jyuto’s hands slid out of his shirt to hold him by the chin, tipping his head to the side so Jyuto could take his mouth in a wet kiss. Even if the angle was slightly awkward, Doppo let his eyes close and his lips part instantaneously, finding Jyuto’s mouth halfway open as well, letting the glide of their tongues do the work as their breath mingled together. Doppo’s head felt slightly fuzzy, but pleasure still pulsed through him — even when he wasn’t actively doing anything but focusing on breathing. Even if he couldn’t really taste, or smell, only feel Jyuto exhale in him and wish the fingers still squeezing his chest were somewhere else.

Could they…?

A little rush of panic laced with raw impulse coursed through Doppo’s nerves, primal and blinding as Jyuto’s hand began drifting down. His eyes snapped back open then, and one moment he was swiftly reaching under his own shirt, the next seizing the hand wandering on his stomach into his own.

Time seemed to stop for a blissful moment, and he only realized what he’d done when he felt the base of Jyuto’s palm buried in the tender hollow between his collarbones. Doppo’s chest immediately swelled, but the brief beat of hesitation that followed and stilled Jyuto’s body made Doppo freeze himself.

Shit, shit, shit. He was the worst, wasn’t he?

Deflated, he pulled away from their kiss and turned back to face the wall, his skin flushing with shame as his fingers dejectedly let go of Jyuto’s hand.

“S-sorry!” he wheezed out. Freak. Demanding. The words floated in his head darkly. Ungrateful. Stop it. Undeserving—

Another desperate apology began forming and clawing its way out of his mouth, when he felt Jyuto’s hand close lightly around his throat, and that dual mix of helplessness mingled with relief washed over him in the form of a shudder that had his limbs shaking in anticipation. There was no doubt Jyuto had felt him tighten up when he heard the man grunt into his ear.

“You sweet, little thing,” Jyuto said between a sigh and a groan as he went back to fucking into Doppo at a slow pace. “Did you want this?” he asked, his fingers squeezing around his neck a bit tighter, his other hand holding onto Doppo’s waist.

A choked sob tore from Doppo’s throat as he instinctively tilted his head back, giving Jyuto a better access to the length of his neck. Despite the zealous twinge in Jyuto’s voice, his hand didn’t quite close around him, not completely. Doppo was only then aware of the slick sweat coating his body by the way Jyuto struggled to get a firm hold of his neck, his fingers slipping down his throat even as they attempted to dig into the sides of it. It wasn’t until a couple of clumsy attempts that he finally managed to get a solid grip of Doppo’s throat, and when his thumb finally pressed where his pulse throbbed erratically underneath his jaw, Doppo’s eyes almost rolled to the back of his head.

It still wasn’t much. Jyuto wasn’t quite being as forceful as Doppo knew he could take, but he figured Jyuto didn’t want to get too rough to the point of actually hurting him. Too soft. As if Doppo deserved better. Ha, ha. It was so good, though, and coupled with the constant glide of Jyuto’s cock inside him and the fact that he was willing to cede to Doppo’s capricious needs, it was enough to keep a prickly buzz ringing continuously through Doppo’s blood.

“Look at you. Do you trust me this much?” Jyuto crooned as his fingers began squeezing and loosening to the time of his thrusts, like a second pulse pumping along with Doppo’s own frenzied heartbeat. It was enough to send a spike of sensation down his spine, to keep Doppo giddy enough so that the only thing keeping his head from hanging between his shoulders was Jyuto’s secure grip.

Yes, Doppo thought absently, eyes halfway closed and hazy with pleasure. There were only so many people he could trust in his life. Being able to make one right decision among a flood of wrong ones made him happy, even if he had to remind himself Jyuto probably shot people before, pulled the trigger of his gun several times with the fingers digging in his jugular.

“Do you?” Jyuto pressed, the hand on Doppo’s waist tightening almost painfully when he only replied with breathy sounds.

Doppo’s delirious mind took that as a demand for an answer. “Y-yes,” he choked out, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Y-yes, I-I trust you, ah—”

Doppo’s face burned, the blood pooling around his eyes and forehead heavy and hot, pounding against his face like it wanted to shatter his skull and break through his thin skin. That delicious throbbing in his head added up to that of his cock, and he reached down to pump himself with shaky fingers.

Close. “P-please,” he begged, which was why he didn’t understand what he did wrong when Jyuto withdrew his hand from his neck, his airway opening up so Doppo could gasp out for air.

Jyuto also stopped moving, adding to the impatience pulsing in Doppo’s nerves and leaving his body tingling with both relief and disappointment.

“Wh-what—” Doppo wheezed, but Jyuto’s hand immediately clamped against his mouth before he could even think of what to ask.

The sudden laugh that reverberated in the room didn’t belong to the man behind him, nor did the rowdy voices following immediately after.

_{“—fucking way, man.”}

_{“Shut up, I’m telling you—”}

People.

_{“Pffft—”}

There were people outside the stall where Jyuto was buried to the hilt inside Doppo, who was too dazed to actually listen to what they were saying, but not enough to ignore the alarms going off in his head.

Doppo panicked, but the moment he involuntarily let out a tiny noise of surprise, Jyuto’s hand tightened against his mouth, warningly, and he could almost hear his own heart snapping against his ribs, almost interested.

Fuck.

His stomach burned as he began breathing quickly through his nose. Blindly, he stopped stroking himself and reached to his side to grip the hand on his waist. He reflexively squeezed Jyuto’s wrist when Jyuto’s thumb pressed too close to one of his nostrils, and for a twisted, brief moment, Doppo wondered what it would feel like if he did the same with the other one.

The thought was cut off his mind as Jyuto held him firmly to his body, heat brewing where Jyuto’s bare stomach pressed against Doppo’s lower back. That little skin-to-skin contact was addictive, and Doppo wished he had taken off his t-shirt just to feel an inch of Jyuto’s chest against his back.

“Quiet,” Jyuto whispered, and for a second Doppo couldn’t reason why Jyuto thought he wasn’t being quiet enough already — until Jyuto moved his hand from his waist to his cock, flicking the head between his fingers.

Doppo’s body went taut, a strangled shriek rebounding against the hand over his mouth. He heard Jyuto chuckle.

“You reap what you sow, Doppo.” Jyuto’s tone was posh with satisfaction and arousal, and almost sinister, a stark contrast against the flippant conversation taking place outside of the stall they were locked in.

Doppo’s hips started wiggling reflexively, his nerves coiling in sensitivity, making Jyuto’s breath hitch before he started grinding his hips forward again.

“Stay still,” Jyuto warned, his voice a dark whisper as he pulled Doppo back into his chest and mouthed alongside his jaw. Doppo could only bite the inside of his mouth as Jyuto stayed put, pressed deep into him as he stroked him slowly. Jyuto’s pulse drummed against Doppo’s fingertips as Doppo tightened his hand around his wrist, torn between wanting Jyuto to jerk him faster or not at all.

The men on the other side of the stall were laughing again, their voices a jumble of words Doppo could still hear, as unintelligible as his brain found them. Despite how loud they were, and how loudly Doppo’s pulse thrummed in his ears, he didn’t miss the way Jyuto’s breath faltered as he lavished the side of his neck with quick nips and kisses.

It could have been a minute and Doppo would have still felt it an hour with the way Jyuto swelled inside him, filling him just so that he was sure to remember Jyuto’s shape for days. But when a loud beat of music suddenly snuck into his ears, Doppo’s eyes widened on the wall in front of him, and Jyuto’s mouth lingered on a kiss for a moment. Both men stayed motionless as the patrons’ footsteps drew away from them.

When the door shut closed, Doppo felt the sigh coming deep out of Jyuto’s throat like it was his own.

“Fuck,” Jyuto exhaled, moving both of his hands to Doppo’s waist, allowing Doppo to suck in a shaky yet much needed mouthful of air. “Are you okay?”

Doppo nodded tiredly with a low, affirmative noise. As their breathing stabilized, he felt Jyuto rest his forehead into the hollow of his shoulder blades, a breathless, little laughter leaving him.

“Sorry.”

“I-it’s fine,” Doppo finally said, flushing at how breathless he sounded. He almost mirrored Jyuto’s words, but the hammering against his chest was more demanding than his will to apologize.

Jyuto waited a moment before straightening up, and reached up to Doppo’s head, tangling his fingers in his unruly locks. “Is it?” he asked, his voice more amused than questioning.

Without warning, he grabbed a fistful of Doppo’s hair and yanked his head back, making Doppo start with a ragged gasp. Doppo’s vision swam in circles, and he scrambled for balance by pressing his forearms to the tiled wall.

“Of course it is — you were sucking me in the whole time,” Jyuto said, caustic and low into his ear. There was an accusing bite in his voice, a dry edge that made Doppo feel like a criminal, and like he deserved to be exposed. “Greedy.”

True, he was. He was.

His lips fell apart with a wet moan as Jyuto began rocking his hips again, dragging the length of his cock inside him. After a couple of slow, tentative thrusts, the fingers buried in his hair loosened so Jyuto could reach under Doppo’s shirt instead, wrapping an arm around his stomach while his other hand cupped his chest.

Doppo dropped his forehead against the wall, his jaw slackening in pleasure as Jyuto started fucking him fast and shallow. As his gaze trailed down, he watched his cock bob shamelessly between his legs until he seized it in his fist and began pumping himself to completion.

He felt so full.

“Hah,” Jyuto huffed a breathless laugh. “See? Greedy.”

Doppo lolled his head back, biting his lip and stifling a whimper at the feel of Jyuto’s tongue licking the sweat off his neck leisurely. “A-ah, fuck,” he croaked when Jyuto’s bite tested the skin guarding his pulse. Doppo writhed against him, his body fraught with pleasure as his hand worked himself faster and the heated coil in his belly began to unravel. “Shit... ngh, m-more, I’m—”

Sensing the agitation in his voice, Jyuto pulled back with a wet, suckling noise. “Close?” he asked, and his hands immediately flew to Doppo’s hips, his pace growing frantic and rougher. “Me too,” he hissed sharply, sounding like he was speaking through gritted teeth. He was breathing hard, ragged pants leaking out of his mouth. It filled Doppo with immense satisfaction to feel that impeccable temperance of his falling apart, because of him, and with a few angled thrusts, the world around him was reduced to nothing but overwhelming, white heat.

“J-Jyuto, ah—”

Jyuto slammed into him one last time, and then Doppo’s body went rigid, a choked cry tearing from his throat as his orgasm finally washed over him. Dazzling, white speckles cloaked his vision as his cock twitched in his fist, filling the condom with thick spurts of cum.

He dimly felt Jyuto slow down as hot pressure unwound throughout his body in pulsating waves that rattled his bones as he stroked himself empty. Blinking away the damp fog off his eyes, his face flushed impossibly darker as he watched the way his hips spasmed and chased his own hand even after he’d finished pumping himself dry. Jyuto held him through it, moving back and forth slowly against his lax body as he traced his hands up and down Doppo’s sides, leaving a fuzzy tingling wherever he touched.

“Fuck, that was beautiful.” Jyuto’s words mingled with a soft laugh. “You came so much.”

Doppo’s body was still twitching as he bit the dryness out of his parched lips, slightly embarrassed by the attention as the haze in his mind began to scatter. Beautiful was too far-fetched a concept for him, but so long he left such a powerful impression, he would take it.

Jyuto allowed him a moment of respite, soothingly caressing his hips as Doppo’s breath evened out. A minute later, he slid a hand up Doppo’s back and pressed between his shoulders, tilting his body downward.

“Bend down a bit.” Doppo was still catching his breath, but let himself be manhandled where Jyuto wanted him effortlessly. “Like that.”

He nearly sobbed when Jyuto started pummeling onto him. Unlike the more meticulous handling from before, Jyuto picked up a relentless pace as he chased his own climax, leaving Doppo with no other choice than to take it as he could. His fingertips whitened as they pressed against the wall, and his knees wobbled in exertion, but Jyuto’s fingers kept him in place as they pressed mercilessly into his skin, branding him with the edge of his nails. Far from finding the sensation unpleasant, Doppo reveled in the throbbing beneath his skin and ignored the pain prickling there knowing well how much it would sting later — the same way his body wailed after a rap battle. Right. No amount of healing was ever enough to completely shake the pain off his skin’s memory. It lingered engrained deep within his nerves, like Jyuto’s current grip on him. And Jyuto’s thrusts were almost punishing, like when the brutal and zealous last seconds of a battle loomed over them.

It made Doppo wonder how much of his division’s defeat weighed in each desperate snap of his hips.

Oh, God. The thought of Jyuto taking it out on him didn’t daunt him — rather, it reignited the pathetic spark feeding his ego as his body staggered between rapture, overstimulation, and pain. A second spike of arousal pulsed through Doppo’s cock at that, and even if he couldn’t really tell, he thought he might have felt himself leak one last time.

“Fuck.” Jyuto grunted, the pounding of his hips erratic and hasty. “Ah, fuck — I’m gonna come—” A deep, guttural noise clawed up his throat, and then he stilled, moaning open-mouthed against the back of Doppo’s hair. With shaky arms, he held Doppo tightly against him and came hard, emptying his climax inside him.

Doppo couldn’t help but whimper as he felt every push of wet heat filling him up, pulsing and thick and good as Jyuto’s body quivered against him. Immediately after, Jyuto wrapped his arms around his middle and stepped forward, allowing Doppo to straighten up. Pulling them flush together, Jyuto rode out the last of his orgasm between heavy breaths and raspy moans, his hips swiveling in sinuous, slow circles.

After a quiet moment, when his embrace finally relaxed, Doppo felt Jyuto drop his head between his shoulder blades, breathing heavily against him, a warm spot forming on Doppo’s shirt and growing damp with each heated exhale that rushed out of him. Jyuto’s solid weight on his back was all but oppressive, and Doppo felt himself melt into it even though it was Jyuto who was sagging over him, one arm around his hip, the other pressing against the wall next to Doppo’s.

Doppo stared at it drowsily, eyes glazed over in sated pleasure, wanting to touch it. He settled for moving his own hand from the wall and wrapping his fingers around Jyuto’s wrist, where his pulse stuttered.

For a long moment, their ragged breathing was the only sound Doppo could hear. He didn’t think he would have been able to help it even if someone walked in on them, and let it all out, feeling both heavy as lead and light-headed.

It felt like a long minute had passed before Jyuto propped himself off Doppo, who let out a little, strangled noise at the inevitable loss of contact. As his hand returned to the wall, Jyuto held his waist and began to pull out of him with a hiss.

Then, he stilled. “Ah, shit.”

Doppo tried to look back, half curious, half concerned, but Jyuto was still holding him in place. “Wh-what is it?” he breathed.

“Nothing, just... I should’ve used a...” Jyuto drifted off. Doppo stayed silent, mind struggling to work any sense out of that, until— “How much do you like your underwear?” Jyuto asked in a rush.

“Wh—” However uncomfortable the position was, Doppo snapped his head back to look at him, starting to feel self-conscious. “What?”

Jyuto broke out in a breathless laugh. “Sorry. Hold on.”

There wasn’t much else he could do, anyway, so Doppo simply stayed malleable in Jyuto’s hold, their hips still connected as Jyuto reached somewhere beside them.

“Tissue, tissue,” Jyuto murmured to himself, and Doppo heard the familiar rustle of toilet paper in his head first before Jyuto took some and held it against the cleft of his ass.

A warm tingling prickled over his sweaty skin as Jyuto finally slid out of him. The sudden emptiness made Doppo reflexively tighten up with a tremulous sigh, squeezing around the mess rooted deep inside of him. Just a second later, his body jumped when Jyuto returned to him with toilet paper, rubbing it against his inner thigh first, then over his entrance.

Doppo flushed red, thinking it would have been easier if he just perished.

“Done,” Jyuto announced placidly when he finished, disposing of the dirty tissues in the trash bin there and grabbing some more to clean his own hands afterward.

With some effort, Doppo forced himself to pluck up and take care of his own mess, rolling the condom off his softening cock, tying it up and disposing of it as well.

Once he tucked himself in as cleanly as he could, he turned around, his eyes darting up to Jyuto’s face. He was looking down, the hair that once held too much gel now falling over his eyes like the heat rising from their bodies had finally taken its toll on it. The tips of his bangs glistened with sweat, as so did his brow and the high curve of his cheekbones.

After fastening his pants, Jyuto looked up as well. Throughout the moment he held their gaze, the only thought to run through Doppo’s head was how unfairly gorgeous some people turned out to be.

The little smirk adorning Jyuto’s lips as he looked downward to busy his attention with his shirt filled Doppo with a fleeting semblance of relief.

But as soon as that little smile died down and Doppo realized how much he needed that gesture of reassurance, he felt his resolve slacken. And as he went on to fumble with his own fly and they fixed their clothes in relative silence, his mind was far from behaving the same way.

Jyuto had made it too easy to think Doppo was worth his time, and Doppo latched onto that feeling like a leech. He didn’t feel used, but he felt like he’d used something better suit for someone else to take advantage of to the fullest.

Take advantage of? That was such an ugly thing to do. He was awful. And now, the prospect of having to rack his brain for the right way of acting around each other was making his hands tremble. If they even saw each other again outside of a rap battle. If Jyuto even intended to.

When he glanced up again, Jyuto was watching him intently, a fond smile on his lips as he smoothed out the crumpled sleeves near his elbows. The softness in his lidded eyes and the shiny blush on his face gave him an enticing, sleepy look, intensified by the sudden absence of his glasses, which were now hanging from his shirt pocket. The top three undone buttons of his shirt worked wonders on him, and Doppo watched enthralled as a lone drop of sweat rolled down the hollow of his neck to where his chest was still flushed pink.

His attention was pulled back up by Jyuto stepping forward and holding one side of his face into his hand. Warm. Slowly, the pad of his thumb moved in circles below his eye, over his cheekbone, and finally along his kiss-swollen lips.

Doppo couldn’t help sucking in a shaky breath, taken aback by the gentleness, like Jyuto’s hands weren’t used to taunting and twisting elbows. Like he actively enjoyed touching Doppo like this as much as he did gripping his hips.

Some of the persistent dread brewing inside him from earlier might have snuck its way into his face, because even if Jyuto kept smiling tenderly at him, his eyes weren’t anymore.

Doppo somehow managed to hold their gaze even as Jyuto leaned forward and propped his other forearm against the wall, caging Doppo with his body.

“What’s on your mind?” Jyuto asked abruptly, catching Doppo off guard, his eyebrows curving up slightly under his unkempt fringe. His lips parted, but he said nothing. A questioning noise escaped him instead, which he regretted. Jyuto went on, “You look s—” but broke off when Doppo’s look turned curious, cautious.

Surprised? Serious? Somber?

He feared that Jyuto would say Sorry. For once, he wasn’t.

“Wh-what?” Doppo dared ask, his voice hoarse and small.

“Scared,” Jyuto replied immediately, what was left of his smile completely gone now, and Doppo swallowed thickly. He had no idea how bad he looked, but trusted that Jyuto knew very well what scared look like. He probably saw countless of those on a daily basis.

Doppo groped for words, but they wouldn’t come to him. Faced with his silence, Jyuto’s expression turned more solemn.

“Do you regret—”

“N-no!” Doppo cut him off urgently as his hands moved on their own, clutching the arm in front of him, Jyuto’s hand still cupping gently his face. “I-I don’t.” He didn’t like how panicked his voice sounded, so he took a steady breath before speaking again, eyes drifting down. “I don’t,” he repeated, more firmly. “I liked it...” And as embarrassing as it was to admit it so openly when his mind wasn’t muddled by erratic thoughts and excitement and lust, he was aware he couldn’t bullshit his way out of a demanding situation with pliancy forever.

Jyuto deserved that much.

Doppo liked it, a lot. He liked that the shitty night he was bound to suffer alone ended up being everything but. He liked talking with Jyuto, and he also liked the kisses, the touching and the sex, how Jyuto treated him and how he treated Jyuto.

But he didn’t tell him that.

“So...” he trailed off, unsure of what to say. His gaze suddenly fell to where his fingers were squeezing around Jyuto’s arm, and when he realized that, he released him, his shoulders jumping. “I-I’m sorry!” he sputtered as he lowered his arms, but Jyuto quickly let go of his face to take one of Doppo’s hands into his, and Doppo forced himself to look up.

“I liked it, too,” Jyuto told him with a renewed smile, maneuvering their hands so he could lace their fingers together. Warmth pooled in Doppo’s belly at the same time he stood motionless, worried that Jyuto would be grossed out by the sticky feeling lingering in his palm. But he wasn’t, even giving his hand a noticeable squeeze. It looked like the mirth from before had found his eyes, too. “And I like this, as well.”

A mix of anticipation and longing swirled in Doppo’s widened eyes, and he felt his heart speed up as Jyuto leaned in slowly. Doppo met him halfway, letting their mouths touch gently, almost chastely, in a flutter of soft pecks, each lingering a little more than the last.

Doppo found himself relaxing again, even as Jyuto pried his lips apart with his own so their tongues could slide together. God, Doppo could keep doing this all night if his body wasn’t scrambling for strength, otherwise giving in, and if they weren’t in the least appealing place to do so. But that obviously didn’t stop them before, so Doppo hesitated when Jyuto let go of his hand to hold his lower back and pull him in closer. Doppo’s breath caught and his hands landed on Jyuto’s arms, unsure of letting his instinct loose again and grinding forward despite how sated he felt.

Jyuto seemed to share his thought, though, and before the chance took over them both, he pulled away, his head sliding to the side to let his forehead drop on Doppo’s shoulder. Doppo allowed his own hands to lay over Jyuto’s back, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

Jyuto turned his head toward Doppo with a sigh, glancing up at him from where he was nudging his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. Can you walk?”

Doppo gave him a nod, but he didn’t immediately reach for the door, allowing himself a moment to test his balance and the strength of his legs as Jyuto slid the lock open and checked for a third presence in the room. Once outside, they took their time to really clean themselves up. Doppo refrained from watching Jyuto splash water on his face to appreciate how silky it felt on his own. The reflection in front of him didn’t look that much different than when he first walked in, other than the new layer of fresh sweat cooling on his body. His face was a vivid pink, and the blood pooled in his cheeks accentuated some of the dormant spots at the side of his nose. His hair was the same disheveled mess, just particularly more out of place at the top where Jyuto’s fingers had twisted in it. A fleeting heat rose to the back of his neck as he combed the stray locks back down to where they belonged.

Jyuto’s sink was the first to stop running. When Doppo cast a glance at him, he saw him reaching to the side for some paper, wiping his face dry. A moment later, he was looking himself in the mirror and studying the damage in his collar, his glasses back on.

Ah, shit. Honestly, it was a miracle that that first hapless button hadn’t popped out when Doppo clawed his shirt open.

“I-I’m sorry,” Doppo tried, slightly frustrated at the lingering rasp in his voice. “I ruined your...”

Jyuto’s gaze immediately locked with his own through the mirror, and Doppo stood frozen for an instant, his face bare and wet, unable to look away from Jyuto’s eyes — sly, lidded, knowing. Smirking, like his mouth.

“You don’t mean that,” Jyuto said, his attention turning back to his own face as he carefully unclipped the two unfortunate chains dangling on each side of his collar. “And I don’t precisely care.”

His gaze lowering, Doppo twisted the tap off with a somewhat relieved flutter in his chest. He truly felt sorry. He absolutely didn’t condone ruining clothes — God knew how much effort it took Hifumi to mend theirs, no matter how much he denied it — let alone when Doppo himself couldn’t afford more than three garments a year. But he hadn’t exactly cared then, so he didn’t defend himself.

Jyuto suddenly let out a chuckle from where he stepped to the side and leaned into the wall. Doppo pulled some tissue from the dispenser next to him, looking curiously at him out of the corner of his eye as he dried his face off.

“You were so bold.” Jyuto wasn’t looking at him as he rummaged through his pockets. “The only people that ever told me to be quiet were the same who wanted me dead.”

Doppo nearly blanched at the information. Jyuto exhibited it like it was a feat, but an unpleasant feeling stirred in Doppo’s chest when he remembered the scars hidden under his shirt. It had been easy to forget that the fact Jyuto was efficient at what he did didn’t mean he didn’t put his life out there as much as the ones he had begrudgingly kneeling before him. The frivolous, almost humorous twinge in his voice didn’t put Doppo completely at ease, but at least it told him he shouldn’t mull over it as much as he assumed.

“Well, I’m glad you showed me that side of yours. Are you always like that?” Jyuto’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Doppo’s cheeks flushed again, and his eyes skirted to the sides embarrassingly. Jyuto didn’t actually look like he was expecting an answer. It saved Doppo the trouble of thinking of one. It wasn’t like he actively thought. Something in him filled slowly until it peaked and rushed out of his system like a flood before receding and becoming stagnant water. Was it not the same for him?

The unmistakable sound of a lighter flicking on made Doppo’s eyes snap back to Jyuto, who was taking a quick drag of a newly lit cigarette and sliding the lighter back into his pocket. He blinked at Doppo when their eyes met again, one of his eyebrows bending up as if taken aback, but he quickly blew the first smoke out of his slightly puckered lips before they curved into a poised smile.

“Ah, my bad. Do you mind?” he asked, dangling the stick between his fingers.

“N-no. Go ahead.” Doppo distantly wondered if he could smoke here. Probably not, but it probably wasn’t the first time Jyuto did it, either. And how many rules could they break in a night, right? And what was that against what transpired between them just a few minutes ago?

Doppo hid the persistent heat rising on his face by fiddling with the ends of his fringe. He still couldn’t believe how grotesquely prepared this place was for that sort of thing, and none of this would have been possible without Jyuto’s involvement. Connections. They were useful to crawl out of shit unscathed. Even Hifumi and Sensei would benefit from them, and they were perfectly kind people. But Doppo already felt bad enough when a coworker let him use their charger when he couldn’t remember where he left his. He couldn’t imagine consciously making friends out of strangers to get something from them, even if that wasn’t the case with his two friends. Doppo wished he could have at least a pinch of that mettle, to build connections and experiences, just enough to get by and not be a hassle to those dear to him.

“Have you been to Yokohama lately?”

The sudden change of topic made Doppo blink dumbly a few times, and he hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth, making sure he’d taken in the right question. “No. Not lately.”

Jyuto let out a pensive hum. “There’s this new pub that opened recently. I think you’d like it. It’s nothing like here,” he said, gaze fixed on Doppo as if Doppo had something valuable to tell him, completely oblivious to the jumble of scattered thoughts inside his head as he tried to wrap his mind around how close of an invitation that sounded.

Compared to him, Doppo wasn’t powerful, wasn’t good material to be associated with. Probably wasn’t even worth being blackmailed. He might have been bestowed with the title of Champion, but Sub-championship was pretty damn close to the top, and from what he’d heard, Mad Trigger Crew’s defeat only fueled the dormant passions of those who hadn’t completely leaned toward them for one reason or another until the outcome was defined and they realized how important their division was for their city. Companies and big names would then call them up, promote them, endorse them almost as much as the Champions themselves.

“I-is it really okay?” Doppo asked tentatively. “For me to go to Yokohama...”

Jyuto stared at him for a moment. He had an arm over his stomach now, his other bent so his elbow rested on his wrist. His cigarette was inches from his face, about three-quarters finished.

The more the silence stretched between them, the more Doppo regretted his words, almost wanting to punch himself for sounding so evasive. Wasn’t this what he wanted — to build a real connection on his own, for Jyuto not to ditch him after what they just did? He couldn’t imagine himself stepping into that city alone, but nothing outside of his ward was forbidden territory for him, for anyone. Then, why did he have to pretend he wanted it to be—?!

“Is that what it is? Are you wondering how to move from here?” Jyuto asked suddenly. “About us fighting?”

The flood of questions made Doppo’s pulse jump, and his gut coiled in knots at the thought of any of his miserable reflections having left his mouth. But as the silence dilated and his senses rushed back to his body, he felt his lower lip caught between his teeth, his mouth tightly shut.

Doppo couldn’t say fighting didn’t concern him, though, but he didn’t respond.

Jyuto didn’t wait for him to. “Well, when the time comes,” he began before taking a long drag of his cigarette. The smoke he blew out of his mouth twisted in the air like a heavy snake. “You’ll want to kick my ass again, and I’ll want to kick yours, and this time we’ll get beer right afterward.” He emphasized his point by aiming the two fingers holding his cigarette at Doppo, like a gun. His grin was dazzling. “The good one.”

The unexpected swing of mood was surprisingly welcome. The more Doppo’s mind replayed Jyuto’s words, the faster the doubt cloaking his restraint dissipated, until he couldn’t take it, letting out a huffed laugh at how absurdly simple and good all that sounded.

Pleased with the reaction, Jyuto’s look softened. “Outside of that, consider whoever wants to lay a finger on you dealt with,” he concluded, sending a jolt of heat through Doppo’s body. Hearing that shouldn’t have made him flush, but the fact that Jyuto would go out of his way to lavish him with that kind of attention felt... kind of nice, and just a bit embarrassing, too. And dangerous — he didn’t want his body found in some putrid alley in Yokohama even if he’d already signed up for a similar kind of violence when he got sucked into rap battles.

But, yeah, it felt mostly kind of nice.

Which brought him back to wondering if Jyuto’s offer really entailed having him around.

“Um, Jyuto,” Doppo started, and had to pause for a moment to taste the name on his mouth again. “Are you asking me to go with you?”

Jyuto’s lips parted for a moment, but no sound came out of them. Fuck. Of course he was confused. He was thinking about Doppo’s safety, not something he’d said minutes ago. Stupid—!

“S-s-sorry!” Doppo backtracked, his head sinking between his shoulders as one of his hands flew to his other arm, cupping his elbow bashfully. “I was just—”

“Oh. Yeah, well,” Jyuto broke off, looking down as he rubbed his forehead with his thumb. It looked as if he was fixing his hair, but when Doppo forced his gaze to stay on him, he found he wasn’t, and he actually couldn’t see Jyuto’s eyes. “That was the idea — I mean, you can go with whoever you like, of course.” He looked back up and brought his hand away from his face, his thumb rubbing and twirling the filter end of the cigarette almost restlessly. “But, yes. If that’s all right with you.”

If hearing the confirmation from Jyuto’s lips didn’t completely baffle him, the way Jyuto looked did. As Doppo didn’t press himself to speak, the more painfully familiar the situation became, if only because he was well acquainted with it.

Insecurity. Reservation. Doubt.

For once, they weren’t leaking from his own body.

Doppo might fail at identifying scared, but the way Jyuto was fidgeting on his spot reminded him of that one time Hifumi told him to look after the oven for what he felt were some of the longest three minutes of his life.

“I meant what I said,” Jyuto continued, “and it doesn’t have to be beer. It doesn’t have to be after a battle, either.”

Even though his voice grew slightly more confident, there wasn’t even the slightest trace of a smile to hide under. He was just a man, Doppo thought, trying to read Doppo as much as Doppo was trying to read him. And when Doppo likened him to the unmatched image of him in his head, he found the guy in front of him — expectant and hesitant almost in a charming way — was way more approachable and attractive.

And just like that, Doppo felt himself relax, and with all the conviction of the world seeping gently into his voice, he finally found what he wanted to say.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been to Yokohama.”

Jyuto blinked at him, slowly, and Doppo quickly realized that wasn’t exactly what Jyuto wanted to know.

“I’d like that,” he added, a smile spreading across his lips, feeling just a bit embarrassed, but mostly satisfied. “Jyuto.”

Jyuto’s lips parted again, but it took him a brief pause before the corners of his mouth lifted pleasantly. “Great.”

“And I...” Doppo trailed off, considering his words the best he could before they escaped him as Jyuto kept looking at him with interest. “I feel like I know you a bit better now, as well.”

Jyuto’s eyes grew slightly wider behind his glasses, but after a pensive moment, he regarded Doppo with a pleased look. “The feeling is mutual, Doppo.”

Doppo couldn’t help mimic that reaction, but unlike the many times his face would automatically contort to fit other people’s satisfaction, he felt as if something in his chest had finally finished deflating. It was a comforting sensation.

Jyuto’s cigarette was halfway finished when he brought it between his lips again. After breathing out another swift thread of smoke, he stepped closer to the sink and began tapping it against the counter.

“I assume you’ll be taking the train after this?” he asked, his gaze never leaving the spot where the ashes fell to the ground. “Do you need a ride?”

“I...” Despite Doppo’s apparent hesitation, there wasn’t actually any in him. A ride sounded good. In any another moment, were he not to help carry a tipsy Hifumi home, he wouldn’t have been completely opposed to that. “I have to wait for Hifumi, and...”

Jyuto’s eyelids fluttered down. His cheekbones rose with a small smile, his long lashes curling against them. “Ah, right.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

Jyuto looked up then, and with two large steps shortened the distance between them, the arid scent of tobacco and mint closing in as he spoke.

“Why are you apologizing? If anything, I’m the one who should apologize for taking you away for the rest of the night.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that.”

Jyuto’s smile only spread wider. “Then, neither do you.” After a moment, he asked, “Are you good to go?”

Doppo said nothing. His brain considered it, but his body refused to move from where it was rooted to the floor, a familiar, anchoring force locking him in place. He recognized it, tried to ignore it, but it was futile.

At his lack of response, Jyuto asked again. “Or do you want to wait a little more?”

“Y-yeah, um... actually... w-would you mind if I stayed for a bit?”

Jyuto’s eyebrows shot up a little. “Alone?”

Doppo couldn’t keep his eyes from drifting to the side as he gave him a weak nod. He really didn’t want to see how much Jyuto’s dejected look resembled the one in his mind.

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yeah,” Doppo blurted out, voice trembly. “Yes,” he repeated, more leveled. “I’m sorry...”

He slowly forced himself to look at Jyuto’s face, expecting to meet annoyance and disappointment. He found neither.

“I told you you didn’t have to apologize, didn’t I?”

“Y-yeah, but...”

Jyuto was even smiling again, tender and understanding, and his eyes were just the right amount of dusky and clear, devoid of any kind of apparent judgment. “Then, we part here.”

The ghost of another apology hung at the tip of Doppo’s tongue, but before his voice could find it, Jyuto silenced it by tipping his chin up.

“Can I kiss you again?” Doppo stilled. He didn’t understand why he was asking this time until Jyuto raised his other hand and showed him what was left of the cigarette between his fingers. “Ah, I reek of this, so—”

Without the slightest sound, it was Doppo who leaned forward and closed the distance between them, and kissed him. It wasn’t urgent, but there wasn’t any innocence either as his hands clung to the back of Jyuto’s neck, his fingers burying into the shorter hair there.

Jyuto lowered the hand holding his cigarette to Doppo’s waist, keeping each other close together. His other hand moved from Doppo’s face and slid up Doppo’s arm, his fingertips tentatively resting just beneath the rim of his sleeve.

There was a sour dryness where Jyuto’s mouth used to be wet and flexible, but the more they kissed, the easier the slide of their lips became. And after a short while, as Doppo pulled back a little, Jyuto motioned forward as well, close enough to whisper against his mouth.

“You better stop this while you still can.”

A low groan rumbled in Doppo’s throat, and he allowed himself to press one last kiss against Jyuto’s mouth before pulling away from his loosening hold, but not without feeling Jyuto pull in a shuddering breath.

“Well, then,” Jyuto breathed out and stepped aside to take one last quick drag of his dying cigarette, subsequently grinding the burnt end against the sink before tossing it into the bin. He returned his attention to Doppo, one of his hands tucked into his pocket. “I’ll see you around, Doppo.”

“Yeah... Thank you.”

Jyuto kept his gaze on him for a moment. His satisfied smile never wavered as he turned around and walked up to the entrance, his footsteps echoing crisply against the ceramic tiles. Don’t look, don’t look, ordered Doppo’s self-restraint, but he was already admiring the contour of waist and hips before the command — weak in nature — could reach his eyes.

“Oh,” Jyuto said right as he placed his hand on the door, stilling and looking over his shoulder. Doppo quickly snapped his gaze back up. “I bought some champagne before,” he explained to a baffled Doppo, turning halfway. “I really don’t feel like going back to get it, but it would be a waste to throw it away. I’d rather you keep it. Think you can take a quick detour to the bar before you go?”

It took Doppo a moment to process the influx of information, another moment for it to click, and then he found himself nodding dumbly.

“I’ll leave it to you, then,” Jyuto said, looking pleased with himself. “Enjoy the rest of the night, Doppo.”

“I did—” The words rushed out of him without much thought other than the need to say something back. An awkward feeling immediately settled in Doppo, but as he took in the half surprised, half flustered look on Jyuto’s face, he found the sight was worth his heart skipping for not filtering his thoughts. And knowing he didn’t have anything left to lose, he couldn’t find a reason to stop himself. “Thank you, Jyuto.”

After a short silence, Jyuto cleared his throat. “Hm. Thank you,” he said, looking content even as he reached to tip his glasses up his nose. “See you around.”

“Yeah. See you.”

Doppo didn’t exactly see the moment Jyuto opened the door. When he became aware of the foggy veil covering his eyes and refocused his sight, Jyuto had already left the room.

He took a moment to gather himself, and as his senses shook out of the haze they were wrapped in, the sound began to clear out until he could hear the music outside once again, pounding dully around him like he was standing in a tunnel.

His gaze fixed on the entrance, but as the seconds ticked by and the conviction that Jyuto wouldn’t re-enter the room grew firmer, the harder it became to ignore the impending feeling of his body weighing him down.

Stepping back blindly, he felt for the wall before leaning back against it. As the entirety of the situation fully washed over him, it felt as if the mass of his bones began dragging him from below, and feeling his strength slipping away from him, Doppo let his body slide down the wall. A sharp pang shoot up his lower back as his backside touched the floor, and he couldn’t help but wince. The prickling sensation lasted a good couple of seconds before fading into a background, pulsing sensation.

And just like that, Doppo found himself sitting on the floor of the restroom of some fancy nightclub, with drowsy eyes and a head that felt too heavy for his neck.

He didn’t even jump when the door was pushed open again. It wasn’t Jyuto, because sometimes the universe had mercy on him or planned something worse than having to explain the man he’d just fucked why he’d refused walking out with him to lie down on some dirty floor instead.

The newcomer glanced down at him from the corner of his eyes just long enough to make sure Doppo was as harmless as he looked, and promptly ignored him. Doppo couldn’t care less how he looked, but he held his breath when the man walked past him and toward the stall he and Jyuto had been in minutes ago.

Doppo seldom believed in miracles, but hoped that by some supernatural occurrence the smell of sex had been masked by with the freshener dispenser on the wall. Random lone guy probably didn’t deserve that, so Doppo’s breath left him in a relieved sigh when the man walked into a different stall.

At last, Doppo deemed it befitting to get out of there before the other man did.

His movements were groggy and slow as he pushed himself off the floor. The first thing he did was to pat his pockets and make sure he hadn’t crushed his phone, flipping it open to find a couple of unread texts and two missed calls, all from Hifumi. Foolishly, or wishfully, he thought one of them to be from Jyuto, but when it dawned on him that he didn’t even have his number, didn’t even ask for it, he so wished the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, and had to actively stop his body from slumping back against the wall. He could google him. Creep. Stupid. He could ask Sensei. Sensei knew Aohitsugi-san. Ha. As if the yakuza would gladly give that information, to Doppo, no less.

Jyuto... Jyuto could have asked for a way to contact him if he’d wanted to.

“Dammit.”

This was why life didn’t let him do relationships.

The door was flung open again, and three more men stumbled their way inside, one of them holding a can of beer. They paid no mind to Doppo as Doppo stood by the sink, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his lips, imagining the booze in his mouth. The bar. Maybe Jyuto was still there, wine bottle in hand for Doppo to take home like he asked him to. He couldn’t stay locked in the restroom forever, anyway, especially not when Hifumi’s texts opened with an offer to get a ‘Super special snack~! ★’ together and morphed into concern at Doppo’s lack of response.

He typed a quick reply, prompting Hifumi to meet him at the bar whenever he had the chance.

As he exited the restroom, the pounding music greeted him first. Then, the heat. Then, the smell of alcohol and worn clothes.

The energetic swing of a hand that had the potential to leave an important imprint on his face — which he barely dodged — almost made him want to just stay there. The thought of going through that again and more butchered most of what little energy he had left.

Not all of it, however, and soon, as he forced his body to move, he found it was much easier to reach the other side of a room jammed with tides of dancing people when he glued himself to the wall — he was definitely not pushed against it — and watched his hands whenever a body making out with another got in his way. Or anothers. He couldn’t really tell, or care.

A lot of palpitations and a couple of drops of sweat later, he made it. The bar was less packed than before, considering how easy it had been to find a seat. But as he turned behind him and caught a peripheral vision of the whole room, he found that so was the dance floor.

It was about after the twelfth time that he looked over his shoulder and crossed glances with someone that resembled Hifumi. He almost didn’t hold his gaze, but as the other man suddenly turned halfway and was now walking toward him, Doppo realized it was because unlike when they arrived, the blond didn’t have his coat on but draped over his shoulders. Something black was wrapped around his forehead, hindering Doppo’s efforts to associate this man to the one he knew.

As the distance between them became shorter, something black took the shape of a tie. It clearly didn’t belong to Hifumi, but it was there, nonetheless.

“Doppo-kun!” Hifumi exclaimed as he finally reached the bar, eyes and smile wide with joy.

Host mode still, huh?

Hifumi’s hair was a bit tossed, and upon watching carefully, Doppo noticed that the yellow rose he always sported on his persona had somehow made its way out of his pocket to nestle in the left side of his hair. How it managed to stay there despite the hustle and bustle around them was truly a mystery.

Despite how silly the sight was, Hifumi still looked endearing as ever.

“I’ve been calling you. I thought you’d still be here.” Even if it was his night, he didn’t sound tipsy at all, which meant less dead weight for Doppo to carry besides his own.

“Y-yeah. I’m sorry, Hifumi...”

Hifumi only chuckled, and waited two seconds before reaching for Doppo’s hair. “Your hair is a mess.” Doppo found himself tipping his head forward instinctively, chin down, allowing Hifumi to fix what he couldn’t. “Where have you been?”

“Sorry,” he repeated, voice low. “I was... I needed to stand up for a bit.”

He figured he hadn’t been nearly low enough when he felt Hifumi’s hand stop moving. Doppo stared up at his friend from the splits of his fringe, watching Hifumi blink at him for a wordless moment.

Suddenly, Hifumi’s lips parted with a gasp, a spark of interest lighting his eyes. “Doppo-kun...” he uttered, placing both of his hands on Doppo’s shoulders. “Did you find a song of your liking?”

Hifumi was beaming, and Doppo couldn’t help huffing out a laugh. “I... I found something. I think. Maybe.”

“Did you dance?”

“No way,” Doppo mumbled out, his gaze drifting sideways. “I-I just... needed to go to the bathroom, really...”

“Kannonzaka-san?”

Doppo’s body gave a slight jolt, and both he and Hifumi looked up at the other side of the bar at the same time, searching the source of the voice.

If it wasn’t the bartender that had to witness Doppo and Jyuto flirt until they couldn’t keep it in their pants anymore.

And a wine bottle in his hand, which he placed in front of Doppo.

Doppo felt a frenzied heat spread all over his back.

The man then placed his palm on the counter with noticeable purpose, sliding his hand toward Doppo, slowly. The conspicuous, rigid motion made Doppo bring his eyes up to him. The bartender’s eyes shifted down, and when Doppo followed his gaze, the man drew his hand back, leaving a small folded piece of paper in its place.

When Doppo glanced to his side, Hifumi was still trying to piece together the situation, mouth agape and eyes darting between the champagne and the bartender’s face.

Doppo took the small paper into his sweaty hand as quickly as he could.

“Oh!” Hifumi gasped. “You have a fine taste, Doppo-kun.”

“Aha,” Doppo laughed feebly, “w-well—” and cut himself off when Hifumi reached into his pocket. Recognizing the action, Doppo held his forearm to stop him. “W-wait, Hifumi, it’s on the house, so...”

Hifumi blinked owlishly at him before turning his head toward the bar, probably to search the bartender’s reaction.

But the man was no longer with them, so his startled, big eyes settled on Doppo instead, scanning his form for a pensive moment and making the hairs in Doppo’s body stand in alert. Doppo let go of his arm, fearing Hifumi would feel his fingers jitter.

He wanted to look away, feeling slightly self-conscious under Hifumi’s radiant gaze—

“I told you you would have fun,” Hifumi said with a fond smile.

—but he was glad he didn’t.

He wasn’t pleased, however, that he hadn’t picked up on a third presence behind him until it was literally yelling “Izanami!” into his ear, or just painfully close to it. The voice pierced Doppo’s brain like a siren stuck in the traffic jam, making him recoil, his body jolting upward and forward. He was lucky he didn’t fall off the stool.

“Here you are.” Two men — hosts — walked over from behind Doppo, and Hifumi’s attention was immediately drawn to them.

“Ah, were you looking for me? I apologize for the trouble. I found my friend and—”

“Whatever, listen,” rushed one of the hosts, the loud one, pointing his forefinger somewhere at the ceiling. “Did you know they used to have a rodeo bull in the VIP room?”

Hifumi’s face seemed to light up then. “Oh!” He turned back to Doppo. “Doppo-kun, the VIP room is amazing!”

“They have the biggest champagne tower I’ve ever seen,” the other host told Doppo, with the blankest face Doppo had ever seen in a host.

“That’s true! I wish you could come with us already,” Hifumi said with a dejected smile.

“Guest entry opens in an hour,” calm host said.

“Ah, right.” Loud host. “Takahashi wanted a picture of everyone before we...” he paused, making a widening gesture with his hands. “You know, split up.”

Hifumi looked hesitant. “Ah, but Doppo—”

“Go,” Doppo told him with a wave of his hand. “I’ll wait here.”

“Will you be okay?”

“Yeah, I’m...” Doppo paused before glancing at the bottle next to him and wrapping his fingers around the neck. “I’m in good hands,” he said, without knowing what the hell that meant.

But Hifumi didn’t mind, and brought a hand to his mouth to stifle a small laugh. “Okay. I’ll come for you soon.”

“Yeah.”

They shared a last parting smile before all three hosts bid their farewells and vanished amidst the unflagging crowd.

Somehow, Doppo felt lighter.

He would tell Hifumi everything later. Sensei, too.

For now, he uncurled his fingers to reveal the perfectly folded square of paper inside them, now a crumpled mess in his palm. Slowly, he pulled it open and smoothed the surface with his thumb, his pulse speeding up as the distorted writing scribbled on it became neat and legible.

For now, he flipped open his phone, his contact list following.

The next eleven digits he typed in matched the ones scribbled on the note signed with Jyuto’s initials.

Doppo hunched over the wooden counter, biting on his lip and smiling to himself.