Busted
Title: Busted
Characters: MikamiXMatsuda, One-sided MikamiXLight
Rating: M
Word Count: 1230
Summary: Whatever the case: There was something about one, Touta Matsuda that had caught his attention.
Maybe it was the stereotype of young, idealistic males that caught his attention; maybe it was the knowledge that this one--if only one of many--was involved in bringing justice to those who would see it; maybe it was only the way his hair fell over his eyes when he laughed, all innocence with nothing beneath.
Whatever the case: There was something about one, Touta Matsuda that had caught his attention. Never mind that he had given Mikami a fake name and kept to his fallacy, even during their encounters, because Mikami had given him a fake name as well. Perhaps had Matsuda actually known who Teru was, he would have thought better than to supply him with the name Taro Matsui. It had taken him less than one sitting to link the name to a supposedly deceased pop-idol manager.
Of course, he could assume that the man had foolishly picked the name from the papers, or even used it inadvertently, having it resonated in his mind from the news without even realizing. Yes, he could assume that, but it would have been a faulty assumption and very unlike him.
Teru was a bit surprised at how quickly they had gone from strangers and a chance encounter to becoming intimate. It began with the crossing of paths in the courthouse, where the young, obviously insecure officer stumbled and dropped his papers and Mikami, horrified at the disarray, had helped him reorder himself and caught the obvious blush. Only a few moments of uncomfortable silence and Matsuda was his for the taking. And so he took.
The marks were precise, as everything must be. Small teeth marks, all in perfect alignment, faint discoloration where blood had been drawn to the surface, just beneath his skin. Marking him was a necessary, specific claim on that which Teru chose to throw away his usual routine in order to indulge, if only for a little while.
It was exhilarating to have this false representation of justice all but whining beneath him with whispered claims of adoration and devotion spilling from his lips. It was enough to nearly cause a smile to touch the corners of his mouth. This being, this man-child knew nothing of true devotion.
But Mikami would do everything in his power to teach him.
It wasn’t about power. No, never that. People who desired such things above all else deserved to be judged. It corrupted; it showed human weakness to a fault. It was, perhaps, the one thing that could be blamed for everything which he fought so hard to eradicate.
Well, that…and greed.
But greed could be contained, as Mikami clearly demonstrated with the simple action of choosing to unleash all that threatened to ruin his perfection on this one man. In its own way, it was maintaining organization, albeit haphazardly. In dark rooms, with darker eyes, shadows seemed almost bright in comparison to the well in which Mikami had thrown himself in indulging himself with something he had no right to enjoy. To say that nothing mattered during these times would have been untrue: For everything mattered.
He sinned. Against what, he was unsure, but he knew that somehow, within some law of human boundaries, this was far beyond what would have been considered acceptable. No human, man or woman, held the right to taste the sweat of another beneath their tongue and know it was only present due to unnecessary vehemence on their part. Even more of a crime was to do so with the knowledge that the one with whom he consorted was somehow tied to the ones who hunted Kira.
But Kami had not ordered the man be judged, and so it remained as it was.
“Tell me about him.”
Mikami squeezed his eyes closed tightly. Any moment now, perhaps less than thirty seconds, and he would fall into a heap on the floor. He awaited the pain, the gasp of his final breath thick in his throat as he paid the ultimate price for consorting with one who held the ability to find out his identity, and perhaps, through him, pose a threat to Kira’s reign.
27
“I…Kami, I tried-"
25
“No, Mikami, you didn’t.”
24
23
22
21
“I will take care of it.”
20
“He never speaks of you, you know.”
18
His knuckles were white from the tightness of his grip on the phone. Frantically, his eyes darted about the room, until they landed on his briefcase, still propped against the wall on the side of the door. There was no order to write, and so he remained where he was, his breath leaving him in small gasps.
17
“What would you have me do?”
16
15
“Nothing at all.”
14
Was God…taunting him? Or was it simply that his fate had already been decided and this was merely a prerequisite to his death?
13
“Ngh…”
“Mikami.”
“Yes, Kami?”
9
“Are you…touching yourself?”
Of course he was. It was a natural progression of events that occurred each time he was contacted by his God. But this….this was far too tempting. The sound of the smooth voice in his ear, combined with the memory of the sensations produced while buried inside of Matsuda was more than enough to send his hand trailing down his stomach until it reached its prize, concealed tightly within his pants.
8
However, whether or not it was obvious, he was never before alerted to the reality that he may not have been the only one who knew he did such things.
6
“What do you think of?”
You. “I-I don’t-"
5
“You wonder if that is what it would feel like to have me against you, no?”
3
“What are you doing?” The gasp ripped from Mikami’s mouth before he realized that he had, in essence, just questioned God’s actions. He squeezed his cock harder. Blasphemy.
1…
A low chuckle echoed through the telephone and Teru stilled. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
0
Now.
Nothing.
Relief washed through him as he heard the click of the line closing and knew that he continued to breathe. When he spilled, he continued to hold the phone tight against his ear, breathing hard, wondering for a brief moment if he would ever again have the pleasure of that innocent, wide-eyed man taking his fuck.
It didn’t matter.
Characters: MikamiXMatsuda, One-sided MikamiXLight
Rating: M
Word Count: 1230
Summary: Whatever the case: There was something about one, Touta Matsuda that had caught his attention.
Maybe it was the stereotype of young, idealistic males that caught his attention; maybe it was the knowledge that this one--if only one of many--was involved in bringing justice to those who would see it; maybe it was only the way his hair fell over his eyes when he laughed, all innocence with nothing beneath.
Whatever the case: There was something about one, Touta Matsuda that had caught his attention. Never mind that he had given Mikami a fake name and kept to his fallacy, even during their encounters, because Mikami had given him a fake name as well. Perhaps had Matsuda actually known who Teru was, he would have thought better than to supply him with the name Taro Matsui. It had taken him less than one sitting to link the name to a supposedly deceased pop-idol manager.
Of course, he could assume that the man had foolishly picked the name from the papers, or even used it inadvertently, having it resonated in his mind from the news without even realizing. Yes, he could assume that, but it would have been a faulty assumption and very unlike him.
Teru was a bit surprised at how quickly they had gone from strangers and a chance encounter to becoming intimate. It began with the crossing of paths in the courthouse, where the young, obviously insecure officer stumbled and dropped his papers and Mikami, horrified at the disarray, had helped him reorder himself and caught the obvious blush. Only a few moments of uncomfortable silence and Matsuda was his for the taking. And so he took.
The marks were precise, as everything must be. Small teeth marks, all in perfect alignment, faint discoloration where blood had been drawn to the surface, just beneath his skin. Marking him was a necessary, specific claim on that which Teru chose to throw away his usual routine in order to indulge, if only for a little while.
It was exhilarating to have this false representation of justice all but whining beneath him with whispered claims of adoration and devotion spilling from his lips. It was enough to nearly cause a smile to touch the corners of his mouth. This being, this man-child knew nothing of true devotion.
But Mikami would do everything in his power to teach him.
It wasn’t about power. No, never that. People who desired such things above all else deserved to be judged. It corrupted; it showed human weakness to a fault. It was, perhaps, the one thing that could be blamed for everything which he fought so hard to eradicate.
Well, that…and greed.
But greed could be contained, as Mikami clearly demonstrated with the simple action of choosing to unleash all that threatened to ruin his perfection on this one man. In its own way, it was maintaining organization, albeit haphazardly. In dark rooms, with darker eyes, shadows seemed almost bright in comparison to the well in which Mikami had thrown himself in indulging himself with something he had no right to enjoy. To say that nothing mattered during these times would have been untrue: For everything mattered.
He sinned. Against what, he was unsure, but he knew that somehow, within some law of human boundaries, this was far beyond what would have been considered acceptable. No human, man or woman, held the right to taste the sweat of another beneath their tongue and know it was only present due to unnecessary vehemence on their part. Even more of a crime was to do so with the knowledge that the one with whom he consorted was somehow tied to the ones who hunted Kira.
But Kami had not ordered the man be judged, and so it remained as it was.
“Tell me about him.”
Mikami squeezed his eyes closed tightly. Any moment now, perhaps less than thirty seconds, and he would fall into a heap on the floor. He awaited the pain, the gasp of his final breath thick in his throat as he paid the ultimate price for consorting with one who held the ability to find out his identity, and perhaps, through him, pose a threat to Kira’s reign.
27
“I…Kami, I tried-"
25
“No, Mikami, you didn’t.”
24
23
22
21
“I will take care of it.”
20
“He never speaks of you, you know.”
18
His knuckles were white from the tightness of his grip on the phone. Frantically, his eyes darted about the room, until they landed on his briefcase, still propped against the wall on the side of the door. There was no order to write, and so he remained where he was, his breath leaving him in small gasps.
17
“What would you have me do?”
16
15
“Nothing at all.”
14
Was God…taunting him? Or was it simply that his fate had already been decided and this was merely a prerequisite to his death?
13
“Ngh…”
“Mikami.”
“Yes, Kami?”
9
“Are you…touching yourself?”
Of course he was. It was a natural progression of events that occurred each time he was contacted by his God. But this….this was far too tempting. The sound of the smooth voice in his ear, combined with the memory of the sensations produced while buried inside of Matsuda was more than enough to send his hand trailing down his stomach until it reached its prize, concealed tightly within his pants.
8
However, whether or not it was obvious, he was never before alerted to the reality that he may not have been the only one who knew he did such things.
6
“What do you think of?”
You. “I-I don’t-"
5
“You wonder if that is what it would feel like to have me against you, no?”
3
“What are you doing?” The gasp ripped from Mikami’s mouth before he realized that he had, in essence, just questioned God’s actions. He squeezed his cock harder. Blasphemy.
1…
A low chuckle echoed through the telephone and Teru stilled. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
0
Now.
Nothing.
Relief washed through him as he heard the click of the line closing and knew that he continued to breathe. When he spilled, he continued to hold the phone tight against his ear, breathing hard, wondering for a brief moment if he would ever again have the pleasure of that innocent, wide-eyed man taking his fuck.
It didn’t matter.