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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Akiyama Shun/Majima Goro Characters: Akiyama Shun, Majima Goro, Minami Daisaku, Nishida (Yakuza), Saejima Taiga (Yakuza), Kiryu Kazuma, Tanimura Masayoshi, Date Makoto, Sawamura Haruka Additional Tags: Frottage, Blow Jobs, y4 and y5 spoilers, they’re both a lil self conscious, One Shot —

Take What You Want

He sits down with his blindside facing Akiyama, and the younger man shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting all over his face.

“Y’know, it’s kinda rude to just… you know. Sit so you aren’t looking at me.” He hedges, marveling at how at ease the patriarch seems. He’d undoubtedly seen at least the last part of Akiyama’s fight with Minami, and so he had to know that Akiyama’s no slouch in his own right, but here he is, giving Akiyama his blindside like a dare. Or perhaps he’d just been that unimpressed by what he’d seen. Akiyama knew the stories about the Tojo Clan’s Mad Dog of Shimano, but… just what kind of monster is he, that he’s so comfortable leaving himself vulnerable to a potential foe?

Not that Akiyama would be stupid enough to challenge the legendary Majima Goro. So maybe his reputation really is insurance enough.

“M’ ear works just fine.” Majima drawls, leaning forward and setting his forearms on his knees, and Akiyama frowns. It seems the Mad Dog is something of a mind reader, as well. Or maybe he’s just gotten the question before, in the same round about fashion.

Akiyama hears Minami shift behind him and jumps, but the other man is just moving to sit up, cradling his head in his hands and groaning softly.

“Ah, sorry, I’m confused. What are you doing here, Majima-san?” Akiyama asks, and Majima tilts his head toward him as though to glance at him and sighs.

“We’re lookin’ fer Lily. Ya seen her?” He asks, sounding tired, and Akiyama frowns.

“Just missed her. She quit today.” He replies, then takes a step forward. “What, uh… what business do you have with her?”

Majima does look at him then, turning his head and pinning him with a sharpness in his eye that makes Akiyama’s heart skip nervously, and studies him for just a moment. Then he sighs again and sits back in his seat, spreading his legs wide and draping his arms over the back of the couch, somehow making himself seem much larger than he already is.

“I owe it to Yasuko-chan to keep her safe. Make up fer what went down in ‘85.” He says quietly, his voice little more than a low rumble, and Akiyama leans forward.

“Yasuko? Is that… is that her real name?” He asks, and Majima nods. “Yasuko.” Akiyama murmurs again, liking how it feels in his mouth, then blinks. “Wait, how do you know her? What happened in ‘85?”

Majima looks at him again, narrowing his eye dangerously, and for a moment, Akiyama is sure he isn’t going to get an answer. Then his gaze shifts to some point behind Akiyama and he nods, and Akiyama jumps again when the other yakuza in the room begin to shuffle toward the door. Majima waits until it’s quiet again, then sighs noisily and reaches in his jacket pocket.

“Mind if I smoke?” He asks, pausing and glancing up at him, and Akiyama shakes his head. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and tamps one out, catching it between his lips and lighting it. He takes a long drag and lets his head fall back against the couch, exhaling smoke to the ceiling in a slow, hazy stream.

He doesn’t look at Akiyama once as he tells him the story of Saejima Taiga, Saejima Yasuko, and how 18 deaths changed the course of their lives forever. And all of Akiyama’s questions are answered as Majima speaks, each piece of the puzzle clicking into place and creating a clear picture in his mind of what he’d already sort of expected.

Lily wasn’t a bad person. She just needed help. And Akiyama wished desperately that he could have been there to give her that help before everything had gotten so out of control.

“So now ya know.” Majima says, putting out the smoldering cigarette butt and immediately lighting another. “Not too sure why I told ya any of it. Maybe I’m gettin’ old. Too damn sentimental. Too damn chatty.” He laments, and Akiyama chuckles.

“Either way, I’m glad you told me. I want to help her, too.” He says, and Majima huffs.

“Well, I better get goin’. Sorry fer any damages my lieutenant caused. I’ll have my captain come back with what I owe ya.” He says, slapping his knees and standing up.

“Oh no, don’t worry about it. No harm done.” Akiyama says reflexively, but Majima waves a hand.

“I said I’m payin’ and that’s that. Just say thanks and take th’ offer.” He says through another huff.

“Uh, okay. Thanks, then.” Akiyama replies and bows, and Majima nods and turns, leaving just as abruptly as he’d come. “Shit.” Akiyama says with a low whistle, and moves to sit down heavily on the bench with a sigh.

—

Sure enough, a man comes by Elise the next day with a briefcase full of money and a bento from Kanrai, and Akiyama sighs and invites him to the back so they can talk.

“Sorry about Minami. He’s a lot like how the boss was in the old days, before the weight of the world landed on his shoulders.” The man— Nishida, captain of the Majima Family, as he’d introduced himself— says quietly as he sets down his offerings. “Usually he sends me for more delicate matters, but I was tied up with other business.”

“Like I told your boss, it's really not a problem. I don’t need the money.” Akiyama says, and Nishida sighs and sits down on the couch at the back of the room.

“All due respect, Akiyama-san, just take it. It’s not often the boss apologizes for anything. Don’t insult him by turning it down. He might never apologize to anyone ever again.” He says, and there’s something wry and teasing in his voice that makes Akiyama sigh and give in.

“Okay, fine. I accept Majima-san’s apology.” He huffs, sitting down heavily on the couch opposite the one Nishida is sitting on. “So what’s his plan for finding Lily? I’d like to help.” He asks after a moment, and Nishida frowns.

“Sorry, I can’t tell you that. That’s Majima Family business, and we’ve got it handled.” The yakuza says firmly. Akiyama sighs.

“Elise was your only lead, wasn’t it? You’ve lost her, and you don’t want to admit to your fumble.” He says, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. The silence between them stretches dangerously then, and when Akiyama looks up, he’s surprised by the dark look on the other man’s face.

“You should tread carefully, Akiyama-san. I apologize if I’ve given you the wrong idea, but I have my orders.” Nishida says lowly, his eyes narrowing as he speaks. “Stick your nose where it doesn’t belong, and you might just end up getting it cut off.”

“S-sure.” Akiyama stammers, leaning back in his seat, and Nishida’s face brightens again immediately as he slaps his knees and stands.

“Good. I’m glad we settled that.” He says cheerfully, then bows softly at the waist and starts for the door. “I’ll be on my way, then. Take care, Akiyama-san.” And then he’s gone, and Akiyama lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

—

Majima is in jail, Yasuko is dead, all of Akiyama’s money is flying in the air above Kamurocho, and Akiyama himself is lying on the roof of the Millenium Tower between Kiryu Kazuma and Saejima Taiga, wondering how the fuck he’d even ended up here. He examines the bullet hole in the stack of cash that had saved his life, and he can feel Kiryu and Saejima’s gazes on him, watching him curiously.

“Your brother gave me this little bundle, you know.” He says after a while, turning his head toward Saejima. “Well, he sent his captain over with it. A whole briefcase full of money to pay for damages at my club. I’d put the briefcase under Hana-chan’s desk for her, and kept this so I could take her out to dinner when she comes back.” He snorts. “If she comes back.”

“Why’d Majima give ya a buncha money?” Saejima asks curiously, and Akiyama sighs.

“Some of his boys came into my club looking for your sister. One picked a fight with me. There was really no harm done, but Majima-san insisted.” He replies, and Saejima hums thoughtfully.

“Oh right. Majima-niisan.” Kiryu says suddenly, then stands and wanders off, leaving Akiyama and Saejima alone.

“What’s with Majima-san, anyway?” Akiyama asks, turning his head to look at the other man. Saejima snorts and shrugs.

“S’a hard question to answer.” He says quietly. “I knew him so well 25 years ago. Knew him better than he even knew himself, I think.” He sighs and gives a rueful little smile. “He’s diff’rent now. I reckon there’s a lot ‘with him,’ y’know?”

“He just seemed so… I dunno, careless. Like it didn’t matter to him that I’d just kicked his lieutenant’s ass. Gave me his blind side and everything, hardly even looked at me in my own club.” Akiyama continues, tucking the cash back in his pocket and sitting up.

“No offense, Akiyama-san, but you’d be no match for Majima-niisan.” Kiryu says then, looking down at him and smiling tightly, then he looks at Saejima. “Daigo’s calling the police station. He said he’ll send a car to pick Majima-niisan up. I’m gonna head over to Tojo HQ and wait for him. You wanna come with?”

“Yeah.” Saejima answers as he stands and dusts himself off. “Sorry, Akiyama-san. Maybe we’ll catch ya at New Serena sometime.”

And it stings, being left up on this tower, Kiryu’s words ringing in his head. You’d be no match for Majima-niisan.

Ouch.

He watches them go, a frown cutting lines in his face, and he startles when Tanimura sits down next to him.

“Tough break, huh?” He says, his grin big and easy but tired. “What do you say we go get a drink? I know I sure as shit could use one.” He continues, and Akiyama snorts.

“Yeah. Guess I’m buying, huh?” He replies, hoisting himself up and offering a hand to the younger man.

“Rude.” Tanimura huffs, slapping his hand away and standing up on his own. “But yeah, if you don’t mind.”

Akiyama chuckles softly. “Nah, I don’t mind. Looks like Majima Goro’s gonna be footing the bill anyway.”

—

Akiyama’s strolling past Yoshida Batting Center when he sees him, sitting on the steps and smoking a cigarette, a sad, angry look on his face, like he’d just lost his best friend.

“Majima-san?” Akiyama asks, pausing and pulling his hands out of his pockets. He holds them palms out when the older man looks sharply up at him. “Easy. I come in peace.”

“Yeah?” Majima growls, narrowing his eye at him. “Whaddya want?”

“Nothing, really. I was just walking by.” Akiyama says, taking a hesitant step toward him. “You, uh… you look like you could use a friend, Majima-san.” The yakuza scoffs and flicks the ashes from his cigarette.

“And ya think I’d wanna talk to you? What, ya want me to confide in ya? Pretend we’re pals?” He jeers, a cruel edge to his voice, and Akiyama looks down at his feet.

Ouch.

“Sorry. I’ll get going, then.” He mumbles, turning to leave, and Majima sighs.

“Wait.” He says gruffly, resting his arms on his knees and hanging his head. “Sorry. I, uh… today kinda fuckin’ sucks, y’know? Shouldna snapped at ya.”

“That’s alright, Majima-san. It’s really none of my business anyway.” Akiyama replies, and Majima chuckles ruefully.

“No it ain’t, but yer right. I could use a friend if ya gotta minute.” He says, then pats the space next to him on the step and pulls a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. He offers one to Akiyama when he sits, and Akiyama accepts, lighting it with his own lighter, taking a long drag, and promptly choking half to death.

“The hell? Are you trying to kill me?” Akiyama growls, snuffing it out immediately and pulling out his own pack.

“Sorry. Can’t stand menthol.” Majima says with a soft chuckle and lifts his own cigarette to his lips. “Used to drive Saejima crazy when I’d go out fer cigs and come back with regulars. Course, back then, menthol was expensive as hell and kinda hard to find, so I’d always use that as an excuse.” And there’s a note of sadness in the older man’s voice that makes Akiyama look at him and frown. Majima glances back at him, then sighs and looks down at his hands. “Cops came and hauled him off ‘bout an hour ago. Got me feelin’ a little sorry fer m’self, I guess.”

“Saejima was arrested? What for?” Akiyama asks, surprised, and Majima snorts.

“S’a long-ass story, and it involves a shit load a’ Tojo politics. I’d rather not get into it, if ya don’t mind.” The yakuza says, then sticks the cigarette in his mouth as though to punctuate it.

“Right, sorry.” Akiyama sighs. “Oh, I almost forgot. I wanted to thank you.” He says, changing the subject, and turns a little to look at the other man. Majima startles and looks up at him, his eye wide and curious.

“Yeah? Fer what?” He asks, and Akiyama chuckles and reaches into his jacket pocket to retrieve the stack of cash that had stopped Munakata’s bullet.

“You saved my life.” He replies, raising the bundle to look at Majima through the hole. “This was from the money you had your captain bring me. That briefcase was the only cash I kept when we blew my entire fortune off the top of Millenium Tower, and this little stack right here was in my pocket when that dirty cop tried to kill me. Stopped the bullet he’d aimed right at my heart.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Majima says, taking the bundle gingerly and holding it up to his own eye. “Guess it’s a good thing Minami’s a rude-ass sumbitch. Otherwise, you’d be dead as a hammer, huh?”

“I guess you could say that.” Akiyama laughs, taking the money when Majima hands it back to him. “The rest of it kept me off the street. I invested it and started building up my capital again. I’d like to pay you back, actually.”

“No way. Don’t want yer money, and ya’d insult me if ya tried to return my peace offerin’.” Majima huffs, waving a hand.

“You know I don’t hold any grudges or anything about that, right? Hell, when Minami came around to apologize about a month back, I told him he was welcome in my club anytime. He’s even taken me up on it. I see him in there at least once a week.” Akiyama says, smiling at the older man. “As far as that goes, you’re welcome anytime, too. Your whole family is.”

“That’s kind of ya. I’ll keep it in mind.” The yakuza replies noncommittally, and Akiyama decides not to push it.

“Well, in any case, let me buy you a drink. To thank you for saving my life.” He says instead, and Majima looks at him skeptically, studying him with a dark, shrewd eye.

“Y’ain’t gonna let it go, are ya?” He grumbles, and Akiyama grins and shakes his head. “Awright, fine. I’ll let ya buy me a drink.” He says with a sigh and stands when Akiyama does, taking one last, long look at the batting center before following him into the street.

—

Akiyama and Majima head to Bantam and proceed to get very, very drunk. That… hadn’t been the plan, but Majima had seemed to be in a mood to drink, and Akiyama hadn’t felt it was his place to question him. So instead, he’d matched him drink for drink, unwilling to let the older man drink alone (that’d just be sad), and by the time the bartender had kicked them out, they’d been truly hammered, to a degree that Akiyama couldn’t remember being since he was in college damn near a lifetime ago.

And now, here they are, stumbling up Shichifuku Street toward the hotel district, leaning hard against each other and giggling like a pair of drunken idiots.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Majima slurs suddenly, listing to the side and tripping over the curb. “I gotta sit down a sec. ‘Fore I fuckin’ barf all over th’ place.” Then he trips over his own feet and sits down hard on the sidewalk, taking Akiyama down with him and cackling wildly. “Fuck, why’d ya let me drink so much?”

“Me? Why’d you make me drink so much?” Akiyama splutters, flailing his arms and trying to stand again.

“Didn’t make ya do shit.” Majima grumbles, then drops onto his back right there on the sidewalk, his arms flopping outstretched on either side of him and his long legs falling askew.

“You look like a goddamn chalk outline.” Akiyama huffs, kicking his foot, and Majima cackles again.

“Ain’t too far from it, I think.” He replies, closing his eye and breathing deeply, and Akiyama watches him, dragging his gaze over the man’s slim, toned body. His snakeskin jacket falls away from his sides, revealing the tantalizing curve of his waist, and Akiyama lets his eyes follow the line of it up to his ribs, watching the way they stand out with each slow inhale. The bastard has no right to be over a decade his senior and in better shape than Akiyama has ever been.

The snake irezumi on his chest catches his eye next, vibrant and menacing and seeming to come alive with each breath its owner takes. Idly, he wonders what the back piece could be.

His eyes continue their ascent, following the line of his collarbones, the curve of his neck, pausing to watch his throat bob as he swallows and sighs, the strong line of his jaw, his cheek, high cheekbones, and that dark, half-lidded eye that’s— fucking staring right at him.

Akiyama makes a choked sound and flushes, looking away and pointedly ignoring the older man’s soft chuckle.

“Akiyama.” Majima rumbles then, and when Akiyama sneaks a glance, he finds the other man’s gaze trailing unashamedly over his own body. He flushes and looks away again, and flinches when Majima sits up and reaches to lightly punch his shoulder. “Lighten up, will ya? I don’t mind ya checkin’ me out. Hell, I’ll even let ya touch if ya wanna half as bad as yer eyes say ya do.”

His hand flashes out then, as sure and quick as a snake’s strike, and he seizes Akiyama’s wrist and yanks at his hand, pressing his palm flat to the center of his chest. His skin is warm and dry, and Akiyama can feel the steady, slightly quickened thud of the older man’s heart. Akiyama freezes and stares at his hand, pressed right next to the hissing snake, right in front of its snout like the beast is lunging to bite him.

“Majima-san.” Akiyama breathes, looking up into the yakuza’s face, meeting his sharp, almost predatory gaze, and Majima grins at him when he shivers.

“Life’s short, Akiyama. and it’s unpredictable, and it’s cruel. That’s why ya gotta face it with tenacity, conviction, and hell, even a little dash a’ crazy. Otherwise, it’ll chew ya up and spit ya out and leave ya fer th’ dogs.” He rumbles, and Akiyama can feel his voice vibrating in his chest, deep and strong and so… so…

“Majima-san.” He repeats, pulling his hand back experimentally, and Majima’s grin widens as he holds him fast.

“But ya already knew that, huh? Ya know ya gotta take what ya want, or else you’ll lose it. Dontcha, Akiyama?”

“Yeah.” Akiyama says, feeling a little like a rabbit enchanted by a snake as he stares into Majima’s eye.

“Then take what ya fuckin’ want, Akiyama. ‘Fore ya lose yer chance.” The older man snarls, and Akiyama makes a noise that sounds a little like a kicked mutt and recoils, yanking his hand back and stumbling to his feet. And Majima lets him, releasing his wrist right as he pulls and watching him as he backs into the wall, that same predatory look all over his face as Akiyama drags air into his lungs and presses himself into the bricks behind him. He doesn’t make any move to stand, but suddenly Akiyama is fucking terrified that the yakuza is going to pursue him, and so he turns tail and runs as fast as he can all the way to Sky Finance.

—

Life is short. Two years pass. Majima Goro is murdered in Sapporo.

Akiyama wonders what might have happened if he’d taken the older man’s advice that night.

Guess he’ll never know, now.

Not like he can dwell on it anyway. He has a business to run, an idol to protect, and a murder to solve.

Well, he has an idol to protect. The other things have sort of been taken care of already. And with the fight in theater square finally over, and Haruka on stage pouring her heart out and quite literally destroying her career, he supposes that’s taken care of, as well.

Looks like dwelling is on the list of things he can do after all. Perfect.

Then, about an hour after he’d watched Haruka tell all of Japan that the Dragon of Dojima is basically her father, Akiyama gets a call from Saejima telling him that Kiryu is in the hospital, and he might die.

He’s out of breath by the time he gets to where Kiryu’s being seen to, and the first person he sees is Date Makoto. He runs up to him and doubles over, and Date pats his shoulder tentatively.

“What, did you run all the way here?” The detective asks, and Akiyama laughs shakily and waves a hand.

“Nah, I just… I just really need to stop smoking.” He gasps, and the other man snorts. “How is he? Is he—“

“Don’t worry ‘bout Kiryu-chan, Akiyama. He’s real tough. He’ll pull through.” A deep, familiar voice says, and Akiyama looks up, staring at the ghost leaning against a wall.

“M-Majima-san? Wha— I thought—“

“Y’thought I was dead, I know. That was th’ point, after all.” He huffs, looking away. “Anyway, Haruka-chan’s in Kiryu-chan’s room. She’s been askin’ fer ya.” He continues, and Akiyama can tell he’s watching him from the corner of his eye.

“She’s pretty shaken up. I think she could use a friend.” Date says, and Akiyama nods.

“Right.” He murmurs, and makes a point to walk between the two sworn brothers standing on the other side of the hall, nodding to Saejima before pausing next to Majima and leaning into his space. “I wanna talk to you later.” He says, his voice quiet, and Majima looks at him through a narrowed eye.

“Fine.” He answers calmly, and Akiyama moves past him to Kiryu’s room.

Then the cops show up and ruin everything.

They force Akiyama and Haruka out of the room to be placated by Date, who explains everything with a look on his face that tells Akiyama that he’s just as unhappy with the situation as they are.

They head back to New Serena, for lack of anywhere better to go, and, feeling cooped up, Akiyama decides to take a walk instead, and leaves Haruka with Date and the bar’s mama.

He ends up at Bantam, and somehow he’s not surprised to find Majima there, propping up the wall with one of his non-menthol cigarettes hanging between his lips. His jacket is pulled closed and his arms are crossed over his chest, and even though he’s a head taller than Akiyama, he looks so small and lost in that moment that Akiyama just stops and stares. He’s hunched in on himself, his head bowed and shoulders slumped, and Akiyama moves without thinking, stepping up in front of the older man and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Majima jumps nearly out of his skin and grabs Akiyama’s wrist in a surprisingly punishing grip, staring at him blankly with his brow furrowed and nose wrinkled for just a moment before recognition dawns in his eye. He huffs and relaxes his grip, still holding Akiyama’s wrist but no longer squeezing the life out of it, and drops his head back against the wall behind him.

“Thought ya’d show up here.” He says by way of greeting, and his hand is warm on Akiyama’s wrist even through the leather glove he’s wearing.

“Yeah. It’s hard to even look at Haruka-chan right now.” Akiyama replies, trying to keep his voice light, and Majima frowns. “Feels like I failed her, you know?”

“Yeah.” Majima agrees, but doesn’t elaborate. “Wanna get a drink? Or do ya wanna take a walk?”

“Which would you rather?” Akiyama asks, and Majima finally releases him and hugs himself tightly.

“Got some pent up energy, I think. A walk sounds kinda good.” He replies, then pushes himself up from the wall and promptly stumbles forward into the street. Akiyama catches him before he hits the ground, staggering with him a few steps before he can get his legs underneath the older man’s weight to steady him.

“Are you okay, Majima-san?” He asks, wholly alarmed, and Majima huffs and nods, letting Akiyama hold him up for a moment as he reorients himself.

“Just a little dizzy.” He grumbles, and Akiyama frowns as he notices the cuts and bruises all over the yakuza’s face. “Saejima.” He answers Akiyama’s silent question, the corner of his mouth quirking up ruefully when Akiyama meets his eye. “You weren’t th’ only one tryna protect Haruka-chan tonight.”

“Did you see a doctor while you were at the hospital?” Akiyama asks, and Majima shakes his head. “You could have a concussion, Majima-san.”

“Don’t scold me, I ain’t a child.” The older man growls immediately, then sighs and straightens, pulling away from Akiyama and snapping his lapels. “I’ll be fine. Just wore out, is all.”

“Thought you said you had pent up energy?” Akiyama huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Majima looks at him, his eye narrowed and dark.

“Shut yer hole, ‘fore I shut it fer ya.” He snarls, and Akiyama knows better than to push.

“Let’s go inside and sit down, Majima-san. And maybe you can tell me what the hell happened to you.” Akiyama says instead, opening the door to the bar and gesturing inside.

—

“Bastard wanted us to fight to th’ death.” Majima explains, sipping his drink and closing his eye. “Prob’ly woulda, too, if that little friend a’ Daigo-chan’s hadn’t come through fer us.” He sighs then and looks at Akiyama, something sad and resigned in his gaze. “I dunno, maybe I’m gettin’ too old fer this shit. Seems like it gets harder and harder to bounce back. Especially against Saejima. If that fight’d gone on any longer, I ain’t so sure I’d a’ won it.”

“Because you were tired or because you couldn’t have gone through with it?” Akiyama prompts, and the older man sighs again and shakes his head.

“Wouldna backed down, if that’s what yer askin’.” He says, his voice soft and almost unrecognizable in its gentleness. “Woulda been an insult to my kyodai. and there’s no way in hell I woulda let Kiryu-chan endure losin’ his kid. I was gonna gut Saejima or die tryin’, if that Shinada guy hadn’t saved th’ day.” He leans back in his chair then and takes a drag from his cigarette. “Could barely keep my fuckin’ feet by th’ time we stopped. Ain’t been exhausted like that in a long-ass time.”

“Seems like you still are, Majima-san.” Akiyama comments lightly, and Majima snorts.

“Maybe a little.” He murmurs, then groans and snuffs out his cigarette. “Anyway, th’ hell’d ya wanna talk to me about? It yer turn to admonish my ass fer dyin’ or whatever?”

Akiyama laughs. “Well, something like that.” He says, taking a sip of his drink and considering his answer. “It can wait, though. You’re tired, and I doubt you want me to put you in a worse mood with my rambling. Let me walk you to a taxi, instead.”

“Fine.” Majima growls, and as Akiyama pays the tab, the older man tries to stand and falls immediately to one knee, pressing a hand flat on the floor and laughing bitterly as Akiyama rushes to his side and helps him up. “Guess I’m a little more worse fer wear than I thought I was.” He says shakily, and when Akiyama looks at him, he finds him pale and sweating. “Sorry fer th’ trouble, Akiyama.” He huffs, and Akiyama shakes his head and pulls the yakuza’s arm across his shoulders.

“It’s no trouble at all, Majima-san. I’m glad I’m here to make sure you get home safely.” He replies warmly as he helps him out onto the street.

He gets Majima into a cab and decides to hop in himself at the last second, and Majima’s eye is gigantic when he meets it, curious and a little alarmed.

“Th’ hell’re ya doin’?” He hisses, and Akiyama grins at him.

“C’mon, Majima-san, you can barely walk a straight line. I wouldn’t want you to fall out in the street and hit your head or something.” He says, and Majima scoffs and turns away from him.

They pull up to Majima’s apartment complex and Majima gets out without waiting, and Akiyama sighs and pays the fare before getting out of the car and following the older man into the building.

“Y’ain’t gotta babysit me.” Majima grumbles as they get on the elevator, and Akiyama sighs and leans against the wall.

“Maybe I want to.” He says, chuckling when the other man snorts. “And maybe I’m thinking I might have gotten a second chance at taking what I want.” And he feels Majima’s gaze on him, sharp and shrewd. The elevator stops then and Akiyama steps off when the doors open, and he hears Majima’s boots tapping behind him as he follows him out.

“Akiyama.” He growls, catching Akiyama’s wrist. “It’s this one.” He yanks him back then, and Akiyama yelps when he collides with the older man. “Ya sure ya wanna come in?” He says directly into Akiyama’s ear, and he shivers and looks up at the older man, into that dark, sharp eye before dropping his gaze to Majima’s full lips.

“I’m sure.” He says, and Majima bares his teeth at him, then pulls away and unlocks the door. He grabs Akiyama’s arm and hauls him inside, turning and slamming him against the door and invading his space. “Majima-san.” He whispers, his voice catching in his chest as Majima leans into him. His face settles into the curve of Akiyama’s neck, the stubble on his cheek scratching deliciously over the delicate skin, the only point of contact between them. He breathes deeply through his nose, and one arm lifts to brace against the door next to Akiyama’s head.

Then Majima hums lowly, his breath hot and sweet with liquor, caressing Akiyama’s neck as he opens his mouth to speak.

“Tell me if ya want me to stop. Okay?” He murmurs, his voice so gentle that it surprises Akiyama, and he leans away to meet the older man’s heated gaze, astonished by the impossibly soft look on his face. “At any point. If ya start second guessin’, I want ya to tell me right away.” He presses, and Akiyama nods, swallowing hard.

“Okay.” He breathes, and that softness falls away immediately, leaving that sharp, predatory look that Akiyama’s come to expect.

He finally touches him then, his hand landing on Akiyama’s chest, dragging up until it slots around his throat, the other man’s fingers brushing his jaw and angling his head upward. Majima kisses him then, hard and fierce and full of teeth, and Akiyama moans and puts his hands on Majima’s hips, dragging him closer until their bodies collide. He presses Akiyama into the door, leaning his full weight against him and grinning against his lips when Akiyama’s hands slip under his jacket, his palms sliding over his warm skin, fingers splaying over the powerful muscle that shifts beneath it.

Then Majima tilts his hips into Akiyama’s, rattling the door in its frame when he thrusts hard against him, and Akiyama moans and breaks the kiss, letting his head fall back and exposing his throat. Then lips are on his neck, moving sweetly across the sensitive expanse of it, the occasional threat of teeth pressing into his skin making him shudder and moan again, louder this time, and Majima chuckles lowly.

“Guess we should move this inside, ‘fore th’ neighbors start wonderin’ what th’ hell I’m doin’ in here.” He rumbles, then steps back, grinning at him with all his teeth before turning and promptly stumbling into a wall.

“Majima-san!” Akiyama gasps, lurching forward and catching the older man’s hips, and Majima braces a hand against the wall and huffs.

“Turned too fast.” He grunts, squeezing his eye shut, and Akiyama pulls his arm across his shoulders and guides him to the plush leather couch in the living room. “Well, that’s fuckin’ sexy, huh?” He grumbles, letting his head fall against the back of the couch. “Shit, I feel sick.”

“Flattering.” Akiyama says teasingly, and Majima snorts.

“Ain’t you.” He retorts shortly. His teeth grit and his nose wrinkles, and Akiyama hurries to the kitchen to get him some water. “Sorry.” He sighs when Akiyama returns, accepting the water and sipping gingerly at it, and Akiyama snorts and sits down next to him.

“You have a concussion, Majima-san. You should’ve let me take you back to the hospital.” He chastises gently, taking the glass from him and setting it on the coffee table. He puts a hand on the older man’s shoulder and squeezes, and Majima hums softly.

“What, so I could sit in an uncomfortable bed and get poked with needles and shit? No thanks.” He murmurs, no venom in his tone, and Akiyama smiles. “Ain’t th’ first time I’ve had a concussion. I think I’ll live.”

“Yeah. It’d be a shame if you came back from the dead just to keel over because your sworn brother beat the hell out of you.” Akiyama says lightly. Majima laughs and turns his head, looking at him with that soft expression on his face again.

“It would, wouldn’t it.” He murmurs, then chuckles again and sighs. “Don’t think I’m goin’ nowhere no time soon. Think I’ve had enough a’ dyin’ fer now.”

“I heard the news on the radio, you know.” Akiyama says after a beat of silence, smiling wanly when Majima looks at him again. “I was in a cab going from the train station in Osaka to Sotenbori. Felt my stomach drop to my feet. I didn’t quite believe it until Saejima-san said you might actually be gone. And if he’d given up on you, then how could I keep holding onto hope that it wasn’t true?” He looks down at his hands then, his face burning as he feels tears prick behind his eyes. “Life is short, right?” He says through a bitter laugh, and he feels the couch shift as Majima turns toward him. He jumps nearly out of skin when the older man’s hand lands on his, covering it and squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry.” He says earnestly, his face so stricken and sincere when Akiyama looks up into it that he almost can’t bear to hold his gaze. Then his free hand cups Akiyama’s jaw, sliding to the back of his neck and pulling him forward, and he kisses him gently, so sweet and soft and chaste that Akiyama feels his heart flutter in his chest.

“I should have taken your offer two years ago.” Akiyama murmurs wretchedly against his lips, suddenly overcome with emotion, and Majima gasps and pulls back when a tear slips down Akiyama’s cheek and lands on his hand. “Shit.” Akiyama hisses, his face catching fire again as he swipes at his eyes.

“Stop.” Majima commands softly, grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands down. Then he frames Akiyama’s face in both of his hands, his thumbs wiping at his cheeks. And it’s so tender, so unbearably, unbelievably sweet that Akiyama makes a choked noise and starts crying in earnest despite himself.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I— I don’t— shit.” He babbles as Majima sighs and pulls him into a tight hug. He chuckles softly and cards his fingers through Akiyama’s hair, his nails scratching gently over his scalp with each pass and giving him something to anchor to.

“S’alright. It’s been a long-ass night, and it’s all finally startin’ to hit ya.” Majima says, his voice deep and soothing, and Akiyama wraps his arms around the older man’s waist and hugs him back. And suddenly he feels so tired, the soreness in his limbs that had been tugging at the edges of his awareness since he’d stood next to Watase watching Haruka’s speech finally settling into his bones. He groans and sags into Majima’s arms, shoving his face into the side of the yakuza’s neck, and Majima chuckles again and shifts, leaning back against the arm of the couch behind him and pulling Akiyama down with him. He parts his legs, making room for Akiyama to slot between them, and tucks the younger man’s head under his chin, letting him settle against his chest and petting his hair. “Saw ya fightin’ a whole damn army by yerself after Kiryu-chan left ya. Kurosawa had the news up when he had me in chains. Bet that’s catchin’ up, huh?” Majima murmurs, and Akiyama nods.

“Yeah.” He huffs. “Guess I’m not getting any younger.”

“Tell me about it.” Majima grumbles, and they both laugh softly. Then he sighs and hooks a finger under Akiyama’s chin, pulling his face up and smiling at him, warm and genuine and utterly beautiful. “How ‘bout this, then? Y’can spend th’ night here in th’ guest bedroom, and in th’ mornin’, if ya still wanna be with me, we can take a shower t’gether and see where things go. I think we’ll both be too sore to do much a’ anythin’ else, anyway, and that’ll give ya time to think about this after ya get a chance to calm down.”

“What do you mean?” Akiyama asks, searching Majima’s gaze, and Majima lifts an eyebrow and purses his lips.

“Yer runnin’ way too hot to make any kinda good decisions right now. We both are. Cool off and think about what ya want, and if ya realize by th’ morning that this would be a huge mistake, I won’t be offended, and I won’t try to push ya to do anythin’ ya don’t wanna do.” He says quietly, his eye flickering all over Akiyama’s face. Then he frowns and snorts, looking away from him like he’d seen something there he didn’t like. “Believe it or not, I’m a fuckin’ gentleman. Ain’t in th’ business a’ forcin’ myself on folks. Not fer sex, anyway.” He drags his fingers through Akiyama’s hair again and grins at him. “‘Less ya want me to, a’ course.” He growls, and Akiyama laughs shakily, dropping his head back onto Majima’s chest and sighing.

“Good to know.” He says quietly, squeezing the older man’s waist. “Can we stay like this for a minute, though? Before we get ready for bed? I just…” He pauses, biting his lower lip and feeling like an idiot, but Majima’s fingertips massage his scalp gently, taking the rest of the tension out of Akiyama’s body, and he takes a deep breath and decides to just say it. “It’s good to hear your heartbeat.”

“Akiyama.”

“I mourned you, y’know?” He continues, pressing his ear to Majima’s chest and listening to the steady drum within it. “Wished I could’ve saved you like you saved me. Wondered if I’d slept with you that night, maybe we might have had something, and maybe I might have given you something that would’ve stopped the bullet aimed at your heart, too.”

“Yer a fuckin’ sap, ya know that?” Majima murmurs, and Akiyama laughs thickly and closes his eyes.

“I know.” He says after a moment. Majima hums and rubs his back, his fingers still tugging gently through his hair, and suddenly Akiyama feels very sleepy.

“Either way, it wouldna mattered. Th’ story was they’d emptied a whole damn clip in me, then bashed my skull in. I don’t think a stack a’ cash woulda stopped that.” The older man murmurs. Akiyama hums.

“Maybe not.” He says through a sigh, then turns his head and plants a kiss to the center of Majima’s chest. “Kinda glad we didn’t have to find out.” Majima chuckles at that and presses a kiss to his hair, and Akiyama can feel him smiling warmly.

“Me too.” He murmurs softly, and Akiyama smiles too.

—

He spends the night in the guest bedroom, and when he wakes up, he’s surprised to find Majima already busy in the kitchen.

“Don’t get too excited.” He says with a grin when he spots Akiyama. “I can cook, but it ain’t gonna be fancy. Some rice, some natto, an egg or two, and some leftover sashimi.”

“That’s fine. Better than the burnt scrambled eggs you’d get if I were the one cooking.” Akiyama chuckles, leaning on the counter and watching the older man work.

“T’ be honest, I thought I was gonna hafta wake ya. Y’were sleepin’ like a log.” He comments as he digs in the fridge.

“You checked on me?” Akiyama asks, and Majima laughs.

“Ya left th’ door open.” He fires back, then tosses Akiyama a bottle of water. “How ya feel? Any soreness?”

“Oh yeah.” Akiyama says, uncapping the bottle and drinking greedily. He feels like he hasn’t had any fluids in days, and the water is cool and soothing on his dry throat. “Not too bad, though. I honestly thought it’d be worse.”

Majima hums and turns to look at him, keeping his blind side hidden and studying him from the corner of his good eye instead. Then he huffs and waves a hand, shooing Akiyama out of the kitchen while he finishes breakfast.

The news is on the TV in the living room, and Akiyama sits down and turns up the volume when he sees Haruka’s face on the screen. They’re talking about the show at the Japan Dome, of course, and Akiyama sighs and changes the channel before he hears anything that pisses him off.

“Kinda depressin’, huh?” Majima says, sitting down next to him and passing him a bowl.

“Yeah.” Akiyama sighs. Majima hums and leans back in his seat, stretching his long legs out beneath the coffee table in front of them and digging into his food. “How do you feel, by the way? Still having dizzy spells?”

“Nope. Right as rain.” The yakuza says, shooting him another grin. He’s still keeping his blind side out of his view, turning his head only a little to look at him, but Akiyama doesn’t pry. “Gotta helluva headache today, though.”

“I bet.” Akiyama murmurs.

They both tuck into their food then, idly watching the variety show Akiyama had landed on, and he can’t help but think of how fucking strange this feels. Here he is in the Mad Dog of Shimano’s tidy, minimalist condo (not what he’d expected), eating breakfast on a comfortable leather couch (that it’s leather sort of is expected), next to the legendary yakuza himself, watching some stupid show on TV. Majima is in a pair of sweatpants and a zip up hoodie— though whether it’s for modesty’s sake or Akiyama’s, he couldn’t say— and Akiyama is in a borrowed pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt that he thinks probably belonged to Saejima.

The whole setting seems oddly domestic, and when he glances over at Majima, he finds a soft, content look on the older man’s face. His shoulders are rounded and relaxed where they sink into the cushion behind him, and Akiyama doesn’t realize he’s staring until Majima’s eye cuts to him and narrows.

“S’rude t’ stare.” The yakuza growls, and Akiyama can’t quite tell if he’s teasing or not.

“S-sorry.” Akiyama stammers, looking back down into his mostly empty bowl, and Majima chuckles softly.

“So maybe this ain’t exactly th’ right time to talk about this, but as ya might expect, my impulse control is shit, so I’m askin’ anyway.” Majima says after a long moment, leaning forward and setting his empty bowl on the coffee table. He rests his arms on his knees and looks at Akiyama sidelong, something almost hesitant in his gaze. “D’ya give any thought to what I said last night?” Akiyama nods and pushes the last of his rice around his bowl.

“Yeah.” He sighs, then leans forward and sets his bowl next to Majima’s. He turns and looks at him fully, then smiles and reaches out to put a hand on Majima’s arm. “I like you, Majima-san. A lot. And yeah, maybe I was running a little hot last night, but I meant what I said. I’ve regretted not jumping you that night two years ago every day since.” He reaches for his chin, wanting to pull his face toward him, but the older man resists and looks away, hiding his face, and Akiyama’s heart sinks. “I’m sorry. If you don’t feel the same, then I—“

“That ain’t it.” Majima interrupts firmly, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck. “I told ya I got a headache, yeah? Well, when shit like that’s botherin’ me, I just can’t stand th’ fuckin’ eyepatch. So I ain’t wearin’ it.”

“Okay.” Akiyama says, not exactly understanding, and Majima sighs.

“It ain’t like ya see in movies and TV shows and shit. It ain’t fuckin’ pretty.” He continues, his eye sliding to meet Akiyama’s gaze. “It’s an empty socket, and Saejima caught me on that side pretty hard, so it’s kinda gnarly today. S’all swollen and bruised, and it’s weepy as shit.” He pauses then and straightens his shoulders, visibly bracing himself for Akiyama’s reaction. “Now, I’ve been livin’ with this since 1985. It ain’t worth pityin’, so if that’s what I see on yer face, I’ll knock yer damn teeth out. Fair fuckin’ warnin’. Got me?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Akiyama says, cringing internally and bracing himself. He’s never had a great poker face, but he schools his features anyway and focuses on Majima’s good eye.

“Awright.” The older man says through another sigh. “Normally, I don’t show lovers this shit th’ first time, but like I said, I can’t stand th’ ‘patch today. Believe me, if I could avoid this, I fuckin’ would.”

“Majima-san, you’re stalling.” Akiyama points out, then hooks his fingers under his chin again and tugs gently. “Just show me.” And Majima stares at him for a moment, his eye flickering all over his face, then he huffs and turns his head to face Akiyama fully.

And it’s… not nearly as bad as Majima had made it seem. It’s a little crusty, and it’s definitely agitated from whatever Saejima had done to him, and yeah, an empty socket where most folks have a working eye is definitely not something that Akiyama is used to, but it’s not gross or scary or whatever else Majima was worried he’d think. He smiles and cups Majima’s cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing over the scrape high on his cheek bone, then leans in and kisses him sweetly. Majima hums and kisses back, shy and chaste and so hesitant, and Akiyama hadn’t expected to ever think of the Mad Dog of Shimano as cute, but he fucking is.

“So.” Majima prompts when they break apart, and Akiyama grins.

“So.” He answers. Majima snorts.

“What’s th’ verdict, then? Ya gonna fuck me, or what?” He snaps and Akiyama splutters, reeling backward as it turns into laughter.

“Wow! Talk about forward!” He crows, and Majima grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him close, snarling in his face.

“Y’already knew that, Shu-chan.”

“Shu-chan?!” Akiyama chokes, laughing again. “Nobody’s called me that since I was a kid!”

“Well, that’s what I’m callin’ ya.” Majima snarls, his cheeks coloring softly, then he stands, hauling Akiyama up by his collar.

“You still wanna take a shower together, Majima-san?” Akiyama asks, following him willingly as he drags him down the hall, and Majima snorts.

“Goro.”

“Goro-chan?”

“Don’t fuckin’ push it.”

Akiyama chuckles and grabs the older man’s wrist, then twists it and drives Majima backward when he gasps and releases his shirt. He presses him hard into the wall, ignoring the way his legs burn as he holds the yakuza in place, and nips gently at the tip of his crooked nose.

“Don’t think that just because you’re the big bad Mad Dog that you can just push me around, Goro-san. I’m not as submissive as you seem to think I am.” He says smoothly, giving him a lopsided grin, and Majima answers it with a savage grin of his own.

“That right?” He purrs, showing all of his teeth. “Truth is, I ain’t as dominant as ya might think, either. But yer gonna have to prove to me that y’ can put me in my place. I don’t get on my knees fer just anyone, ya know.”

“Good thing I don’t want you on your knees.” Akiyama teases, then kisses him hard, his arms winding around the older man’s neck as he sinks into him, and Majima returns it eagerly, grabbing his ass and yanking them flush and invading the younger man’s mouth with his tongue. Akiyama grinds against him, and he can feel Majima’s stiffening cock beneath the thin fabric of their sweatpants, knows Majima can feel his too, and moans into the other man’s mouth. He feels Majima’s hands begin to roam, sliding up his back and along his flanks, and then he pushes against him and slams him viciously into the wall on the opposite side of the hallway, rutting against him and breaking the kiss to bite at the side of Akiyama’s neck instead. Akiyama shoves his hands down Majima’s pants, grabbing his bare ass and raking his nails over his skin, and the Mad Dog yelps and moans and bites down hard on Akiyama’s shoulder. “Oh fuck, Goro-san, fuck.” He gasps, his hips jumping and pressing into Majima’s, and he feels the older man grin against his neck before licking over the bite mark to soothe the sting.

“Ya like it rough?” Majima purrs, kissing up Akiyama’s neck, over his jaw, before finding his lips again.

“Not usually.” He gasps, feeling dazed. “But it feels so fucking right with you.” Majima hums and kisses the corner of his mouth, then steps back, leaving Akiyama to sag against the wall.

“C’mon.” He rumbles, then turns and saunters into the bathroom. Akiyama stays against the wall for just a moment, catching his breath and trying to get his heart rate down, then pushes off it and follows Majima inside, shutting the door behind him and looking up right as Majima sheds his jacket. The hannya tattoo on his back glares at him, menacing and utterly terrifying, and Akiyama gasps despite himself and reels backward, yelping when he collides with the door. “Y’awright?” Majima asks, looking at him over his shoulder but not bothering to turn around, and Akiyama swallows and nods.

He’d obviously known the yakuza would have a tattoo, he’d seen the part of it that stretches to his chest often enough, but whatever he had expected the back piece to be, it wasn’t this.

He keeps his back to Akiyama, watching him calmly and silently over his shoulder, and it takes him a moment to realize that the older man’s letting him sort through his emotions on his own.

“S-sorry.” He stammers, taking a tentative step forward. “I was expecting something different, I guess.” Majima hums and says nothing, and Akiyama takes another step, and another, and another. He reaches out and touches Majima’s back, tracing one curved horn to his shoulder, and smiles when goosebumps raise across his flesh. “What does it mean?” He asks, flushing lightly when he realizes that might be too personal, and Majima chuckles softly.

“Maybe one day I’ll tell ya.” He rumbles, then turns and steps into Akiyama’s space. His hands slip under the hem of the oversized shirt, palms pressing flat and smoothing over his ass, and when his fingertips find bare flesh, Akiyama gasps and squirms. “What is it?” Majima asks, stopping immediately and pulling back to study his face, and Akiyama flushes again.

“I’m not—“ He starts, suddenly embarrassed, and Majima pulls his hands back out of his shirt and frames his face with them instead. “I’m not like you or… or like Kiryu-san, o-or Saejima-san, I’m not… I’m not…”

“I should hope not.” Majima says wryly, stroking Akiyama’s cheeks with his thumbs and flashing his teeth. “Part a’ yer charm is that ya ain’t in th’ business.”

“N-no, that’s not… that’s not what I mean.” Akiyama stammers, looking down and putting his hands on Majima’s narrow waist. “I’m not, y’know… built like them. I’m—“ And Majima laughs quietly, dropping his hands to Akiyama’s shoulders and leaning forward to press his lips to Akiyama’s forehead. And the gesture is so impossibly sweet, so inexplicably tender that Akiyama’s face catches fire as he closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

“We’ve been all over each other practically every wakin’ moment since ya got here. I have noticed.” He murmurs. “First of all, I don’t give a fuck about yer body type. I care if ya can fight, and I’ve seen more’n enough proof that ya can. It’s definitely a plus that yer cute, too.” He pulls back then and grins at him. “‘Sides, what kinda asshole would that make me if I blue balled ya just cuz yer a little soft in th’ midsection when y’were so understandin’ a’ my gross-ass eye?”

“It’s not gross. Nothing about you is gross.” Akiyama says, frowning deeply.

“Yer full a’ shit.” Majima huffs, turning his face away, and Akiyama catches his chin and pulls him back.

“Yeah, I am, but I mean it.” He says with a smile, and Majima snorts and returns it.

“We takin’ this damn shower, or what?” He grumbles, and Akiyama feels his fingers playing with the hem of the shirt again, asking for permission.

“Okay, just… just go slow, okay?” Akiyama murmurs, and Majima grins at him and kisses him, deep and passionate and full of tongue right from the start. His hands slip under Akiyama’s borrowed shirt again, his fingertips brushing feather-light along the skin just above the waistband of his pants, and Akiyama shivers and wraps his arms around the older man’s neck, pulling himself flush against him and kissing him back. Then his hands slide up further, his palms flattening against Akiyama’s back and dragging across his skin, pushing the shirt up and up until it bunches just under his armpits. He lifts his arms automatically and Majima tugs the shirt completely off, tossing it aside and wrapping his arms around him. He gasps at the skin to skin contact and breaks the kiss, and Majima hums and drops his face to Akiyama’s neck, kissing along the curve of it to his shoulder.

“Majima-san.” He gasps, and Majima shudders.

“That what ya’d rather call me?” He murmurs against his skin, and Akiyama startles.

“O-oh! I um… would you prefer Goro?” He asks, and Majima snorts softly, his breath puffing against Akiyama’s skin.

“Whatever ya want.” He replies, and then his hands skate down his flanks, his fingers slipping into his waistband, beneath it, his palms sliding over his bare ass. Akiyama moans, his hips jumping and rocking into Majima’s, and the older man hums softly and kisses back up to his mouth, claiming him as he pulls the sweatpants down over his hips and lets them drop unceremoniously to the floor. His fingertips trail across Akiyama’s skin, along his thighs, over his ass, into the dip of his spine in the small of his back, and Akiyama shivers again, feeling his flesh tighten beneath the older man’s touch. And it’s so gentle, so sensual and intoxicating that it makes Akiyama’s head spin. He slips his own fingers into the waistband of Majima’s pants, and he feels him grin against his mouth, the threat of teeth grazing his lower lip as he pushes the older man’s pants over his ass to join his own on the floor.

Then, abruptly, Majima steps away, dragging his gaze appreciatively over Akiyama’s body, a sleazy fucking grin on his face, before turning toward the shower stall. He twists the knobs, putting his hand under the spray as it warms up, then steps in. The water rushes over his body, flattening his hair against the sides of his head, and Akiyama stares, watching rivulets stream over his tattooed back, his ass, his thighs.

“C’mon then, Shu-chan.” He rumbles, looking back over his shoulder, and Akiyama stumbles forward, stepping under the spray behind him and very tentatively setting his hands on the older man’s hips. Majima hums and covers Akiyama’s hands with his own, then grabs them and yanks him closer, pulling his hands to his belly and holding them there for a long moment.

Akiyama presses flush against Majima’s back, and presses his lips to the older man’s skin, kissing gently across the broad expanse of his shoulders. Majima lets his head tilt back, his hands guiding Akiyama’s further up his chest, and then he releases them and presses his palms flat on the wall in front of him, leaning forward and bowing his head instead and shuddering when Akiyama crowds in closer and slips his cock between Majima’s thighs. He flexes the muscles teasingly, turning his head to smirk at Akiyama when he moans, then answers with a long moan of his own when the younger man’s hand slips down, dragging light fingers over Majima’s shaft before grasping it. He pumps it slowly, each long, deliberate stroke driving a soft whimper from somewhere in the older man’s throat, then matches his own rhythm, rocking his hips and fucking Majima’s wet thighs.

They stay like that for a while, languid and unhurried, letting the pleasure build with each slow thrust of Akiyama’s hips, each light skate of his hand, and he’s surprised at how long Majima tolerates it. The muscles in his back are coiled tight like springs against Akiyama’s skin and under his lips, and he knows that the older man wants more from him and is afraid to ask for it, for fear of scaring him off. So Akiyama indulges himself for just a moment more, resting his cheek against the back of Majima’s shoulder and sighing before he pulls back and sets his hands once more on the older man’s hips.

He pushes him, flipping him around so that they face each other, and Majima looks surprised for half a second before he descends on him, his strong arms wrapping tight around Akiyama’s waist and dragging him flush against him. He presses him back against the shower wall and kisses him hard, rocking his hips into Akiyama’s, their cocks sliding together, hot and hard and slick. Akiyama moans and claws at Majima’s back, raking his nails over his skin and earning a vicious snarl from somewhere deep in Majima’s chest. He bites Akiyama’s lower lip, sharp teeth breaking skin and drawing blood, and Akiyama moans again, louder this time, then drops his head back against the wall and lets Majima take full control. The other man nuzzles his face into Akiyama’s shoulder and bites down hard, holding on and thrusting against him.

“Feels so good, Goro-san.” Akiyama moans, digging his fingers into Majima’s ass. He fucks his hips against him again, slamming him into the wall, and Akiyama moans loudly, his eyes rolling back in his head. Majima releases his shoulder and licks over the bite mark, soothing the sting before moving further up Akiyama’s neck and biting him again.

He continues biting all over Akiyama’s neck and shoulders and chest, no doubt leaving marks that Hana-chan will tease him for. And there’s something so appealing about the idea, so primal and sexy that anyone will be able to look at him and know someone has claimed him, that a Mad Dog has left his mark and made it last. He moans at the thought as Majima kisses up his throat to his lips again, pressing his tongue in his mouth like he owns it. His hands roam, skating up and down Akiyama’s sides, his back, his ass, his chest, everywhere like he just can’t decide where he wants to set them.

Then he pulls back to look Akiyama in the eye, his gaze so heated and dark that it leaves him breathless. His eye drops down to admire the tapestry of bite marks he’s left all over Akiyama’s flesh, his hands sliding over his shoulders, his chest, his belly to where their hips are still pressed together. He tilts his pelvis, his cocks sliding along the underside of Akiyama’s, and Akiyama drops his head back against the wall again as Majima’s fingertips ghost over the skin of his lower belly, making it twitch and pull tight as they travel lower and lower. Then his large, warm hand wraps around them both, lining them up and stroking slowly.

Majima moans and leans forward again, putting his forehead against Akiyama’s, and continues to stroke at an easy, languid pace, slow and light and so fucking good. Akiyama groans and reaches up to grab Majima’s face with both hands, kissing him hard and deep, and the older man hums and kisses back, his free hand pushing into Akiyama’s wet hair and pulling gently.

They keep this pace for a long time, breathing and sharing breaths and moaning into each other’s mouths as Majima’s hand drives them closer and closer to the edge, slow and steady and— for all his talk of having poor impulse control— so perfectly controlled. And Akiyama can feel the pressure building, can feel heat coiling in his belly as Majima works them both, and he fucks his hips into Majima’s hand, dragging a moan from them both and earning sharp teeth that close over his lower lip once more as the older man’s hips buck hard.

“M’not gonna last much longer.” He mumbles into Akiyama’s mouth, and Akiyama rolls his hips again, grinning when Majima hisses. Then he pushes him back by the shoulders, still grinning when Majima looks at him curiously.

“Wanna see you.” Akiyama purrs, looking down between them as Majima thrusts into his own hand.

“Yeah? Like what ya see?” Majima asks, dropping his head back and starting a rhythm with his hips, his hand stilling over them and tightening enough to increase the friction.

“Fuck, Goro-san.” He gasps, and Majima laughs.

“Yer an odd guy, ya know that?” He teases. His free hand lands on Akiyama’s shoulder for leverage. His body rolls, all the delicious muscles in his abdomen standing out as they flex and relax in turns.

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Akiyama snorts, reaching up to grab the older man’s wrist. He covers the hand still gripping them with his own and squeezes tighter, and Majima makes a wounded sound in his chest and gives a few more jerky thrusts before coming hard. He spurts all over their hands, his come running over their fingers and Akiyama’s cock, and Majima bows his head and huffs for a moment before sinking to his knees and swallowing him whole right then and there.

Akiyama shouts, his hand finding the top of the older man’s head and threading trembling fingers into his black hair, and Majima takes him all the way down into his throat like he’s done it a thousand times before. He sucks hard on the way back up, then begins bobbing his head, corkscrewing his hand at the base of Akiyama’s cock and propelling him to the edge and over it in no time at all. He babbles something incomprehensible and then comes in Majima’s mouth, moaning long and low in his chest as the older man sucks him fucking dry.

“Oh my god.” Akiyama gasps, sagging against the wall, and Majima grins at him when he stands again, pressing against him and kissing him deeply, making him taste himself. “You’re really good at that.” He breathes when they break for air again, and Majima hums.

“Well, I’ve had some practice, I guess.” He replies, a shit-eating grin on his face, and kisses him again.

They actually take a shower after that, washing and rinsing and teasing each other, and when they finally step out and shrug on the bathrobes Majima had apparently set out for them, Akiyama feels like a brand new man. He has a skip in his step as he follows Majima out into the living room, and he doesn’t notice the shift in the older man’s demeanor until he plops down next to him on the couch and finds him wringing his hands, uncharacteristically nervous.

“What’s wrong?” Akiyama asks, leaning forward and putting a hand over Majima’s, if for no other reason than to stop their worrying, and Majima huffs and looks away.

“If ya wanna leave, ya won’t offend me. Or if ya’d rather not— ya know. Anyway, I just wanna go ahead and give ya an out.” He says matter of factly, like he’s had this exact conversation a hundred times before, and it breaks Akiyama’s heart.

“I don’t wanna leave, Goro-san.” He says, smiling warmly when the older man looks at him. “And I’d really rather do this again. Soon. Like…again today.” He continues, and Majima’s eye widens almost comically.

“Awright.” He murmurs, an almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and Akiyama snorts and pushes him until he sits back against the cushions before scooting closer and settling into his side. “Yer a strange guy, Shu-chan.” He chuckles after a moment, and Akiyama snorts again and puts his head on Majima’s shoulder, smiling when he feels Majima’s arm slip around him.

“I guess that’s probably why I like you so damn much, then.” He retorts, and Majima chuckles again and presses a kiss to the top of his head. Akiyama hums and looks up at him, meeting his warm, impossibly soft gaze, and smiles. “Helps you’re so fucking hot.” He teases. Majima rolls his eyes.

“I’m more than just a piece a’ meat, ya know.” He growls, and Akiyama’s smile widens to a grin.

“Yeah, I know.” He replies, then cups the older man’s cheek in his hand and kisses him sweetly.

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