Gift fic for hyacinthdreams
For: hyacinthdreams
From: Naughty Reindeer
Title: The Fifth Law
Genre: Drama, Mafia, Action
Warnings: Swearing, Mild Violence, Yakuza Shenanigans
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Reita/Uruha, Ruki/Aoi, brief mentions of Reita/Uruha/Kai
Synopsis: It takes all of about 5 seconds for everything to go to shit
Comments:UNF, this prompt. //drools At the mentions of ‘dysfunctional’ and ‘yakuza’, my brain exploded. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it~
Part I
Ruki is, in one word, furious. Livid perhaps may be another. Irate. Enraged.
Ruki is, in many words, in Uruha’s bedroom insulting him at the top of his lungs and opening the curtain, blinding Uruha with the light of the day.
“Fuuuuuuuuck, Ruki, what the fuck?” Uruha moans this into his pillow, grinding his forehead into the soft down to avoid the light.
“You stupid shit, everyone thought you were dead, too, you stupid fucker, god just - ”
“Wait, what? What are you talking about?” Uruha is damn sure focusing now, bolting upright and grabbing Ruki’s arm.
It’s then that he notices that Ruki’s eyes are red from lack of sleep, and both his hair and his clothes are rumpled. These are dire signs. Ruki glares. Uruha waits.
“The Kamui are as pissed as fuck over the people we killed, and they’re forming an alliance of sorts with the Nishimura, and they got to Mana, damnit. He was found dead in his motherfucking apartment and you weren’t picking up your phone and just. Fuck.” Ruki crumples, falling onto Uruha’s bed.
“And you couldn’t just check yourself?”
“You weren’t here and even Kai was getting antsy. That fucker doesn’t even have a mortal soul, when he gets worried it’s time to freak the fuck out.”
Uruha breathes in, calming, out. “Okay, well, I’m fine.” Except he isn’t, because this probably means trouble is on the horizon, which is never very much of a good thing.
“Do you know how fucked we all would have been if you had died?” Ruki hasn’t let it go just yet, his eyes still flaring with panic.
“Yes, Ruki, I know, damnit.” Uruha doesn’t like what’s coming next, doesn’t like the ghost of responsibility he can feel settling on his shoulders.
“You’re our next boss, you stupid shit. Next time you want to fuck us all up, by all means, disappear again.” These words are hurled at him as weapons, and if nothing else, it’s a good reminder as to why Ruki is the next second in command.
Uruha doesn’t like thinking about it, really. He’s not sure what he felt when Hyde took him aside and told him the news, nor is he sure what he feels now, but he is sure that the feelings aren’t completely positive.
“So where were you?” Now that Ruki had lost his reason for panic, he turns shrewd. Uruha had every reason to feel a shiver of terror down his spine.
“A date. For the whole day. It’s hard to describe.”
Which it isn’t, really, but Uruha doesn’t really want to tell anyone about it just yet. Except for Kai. He does want to tell Kai.
.:.:.
But Kai, apparently, is refusing to care. Uruha is sitting in Kai’s living room, having finished spilling his guts all over the overpriced Persian carpet, listening with disbelief to Kai’s response.
“Uruha, what you’re doing is your own business, but Reita - or Akira, or fucking Santa Clause if that’s what he wants to be called - and I parted ways on bitter terms a while ago. And it’s lovely that you’re…whatever you two are, but….” And then Kai glances at his bedroom door, where Uruha just bets Whore is sleeping.
“What the hell is with you and that hooker, Kai?” Uruha sounds accusing and whiny, but he has a right to, damnit, and he’s taking himself up on that right. Kai looks angry, which is in itself a sight to behold. Uruha doesn’t think that bodes well for him.
“He has a name, Miyavi, and you know what? It’s not like we can talk. I kill people and you interrogate people and then kill them, and you’re next in line to take over a motherfucking yakuza family, so I really don’t think you even have a right, really, to be criticizing him for doing what it takes to survive.” Kai looks almost human, his wooden smile gone, his expression liquid and changing with each word. Uruha snarls.
“Do you think I want this?”
“Do you think he wants to have to spread his goddamn legs for whoever can pay the price so he has a roof over his head and food to eat?”
They stare at each other angrily, before Kai sighs and walks over to Uruha. He places his hand on Uruha’s shoulder and draws Uruha to lean against Kai’s stomach, and Kai curls over Uruha, pressing a kiss to the top of Uruha’s head.
It’s quite possibly the most awkward hug Uruha has ever gotten, but it’s also the closest they’ve been in two years and Uruha feels something hollow inside his chest warm up and gain life again.
“Just let me do this, Uruha.” The words are whispered. “He makes me feel like I’m still worth it.”
And Uruha would have happily been that person, but he’s starting to get that there are some things that can’t be gained back once lost. Apparently Kai is one of them.
“How about if you don’t give me shit about Miyavi, I won’t give you shit about Reita… even though I probably could.”
Which, yeah, he could, so Uruha just mumbles something like an agreement and wraps his arms around Kai’s hips in a sort of hug back.
They stay like that for a few minutes until there’s a cough at the doorway. Uruha and Kai turn to look, and there’s Miyavi, staring at them with a mix of confusion, resentment and bitterness.
Kai breaks away, gesturing at Uruha. “Miyavi, this is Uruha.”
Miyavi’s eyes widen and he nods, the resentment and confusion disappearing. Apparently bitterness was just a permanent thing.
Kai drifts over, putting his arm around Miyavi’s waist and Uruha decides that now is time to go, before he remembers how alone he is and starts crying in Kai’s living room.
.:.:.
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of extra security measures, awkward conversations with Kai, attempting to get to know Miyavi, dealing with the sexual tension between Ruki and Aoi - it has risen to a whole new level, until Uruha feels like he’s witnessing an intimate moment whenever they’re within three feet of each other - and Reita. Reita, who shows up at the most random of moments to take Uruha out. Who’s a combination of the boy Uruha used to know and some kind stranger that seems desperate to get to know Uruha for all his flaws. Who actually seemed to be telling the truth when he said he was going to stick around.
Uruha’s not sure how to deal with that. He’s not comfortable with this slow shift of gravity, the one that seems to be settling on Reita as the center.
As it stands, Uruha is now spread-eagled on his couch, gasping appreciation as Reita scrapes his teeth down Uruha’s neck. Uruha’s phone rings, and Uruha - as much as he wants to ignore it - groans and resolves to answer.
Since the incident a few weeks ago - Uruha, while never liking Mana, could as least admit to himself that he was one strong motherfucker, and it would take an even stronger motherfucker to take him down. Caution is needed, Uruha recognizes - he’d been picking up every call he’s gotten, just to avoid the panic that happens when he doesn’t.
So as much as he’d rather ignore it and let Reita keep doing what he’s doing, he’s pretty sure that if he does ten people armed like SWAT members would burst into his apartment to defend his flower of maidenhood within five minutes.
Uruha sighs and pushes Reita away as he fumbles for his phone. Reita, for his part, doesn’t seem too disappointed. He just curls himself around Uruha and presses rather distracting kisses to his neck as Uruha brings the phone to his ear.
“Yeah?” His voice is only mildly breathy, for which Uruha congratulates himself.
“Our mutual contact is dead.” Kai’s voice is clipped, the tone you hear during business transactions. If Uruha hadn’t known him for so long, he wouldn’t have been able to detect the thread of something just a little vulnerable in his voice.
They only have one mutual contact.
“Fat Angie?” Uruha gasps, breaking away from Reita’s hold. Reita shoots him a concerned look and holds his hand.
Uruha has never been one for indulging himself in vulnerability - that’s one sure fire way to get you killed - but as his world rocks around him, he decides that it’s not like it’ll make the situation worse to grasp Reita’s hand like a lifeline.
“What? How?” Uruha asks, and Kai sighs down the phone.
“They just got her body out of the river now. It was a complete accident she was found, just a stupid fishing mistake. Whoever did the job did it well.” Kai’s voice was grim.
“It was a job?” Uruha curled up on himself. He knew, distantly, that every time he asked someone to get information for him, he was putting their lives in danger. But there’s a difference between knowing that and actually having someone die within his circle of eyes and ears.
“Her tongue was cut out before she was killed. So were her eyes. That’s a clear enough signal to whoever she talked to, to keep their mouths shut.” Kai pauses. “Did you having her hunting down some information?”
Uruha tenses and looks at Reita. Reita’s sitting next to Uruha with a completely supportive, sympathetic look on his face, and even though he doesn’t know what the problem is, he looks like he wants to help Uruha all the same.
Uruha just can’t see him cutting someone’s tongue out and throwing them in a river. He can’t see Reita involved with the yakuza, period.
“Nothing that would have gotten her on the wrong side of a boss.” Uruha says, his voice an aching sound. It’s only after he says it, that he realizes that it’s probably the wrong choice of words for a civilian to hear, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Either Reita will stay, or he’ll finally see what a screw up Uruha is and will leave.
“I’ll do some more digging, then.” Kai says, and hangs up.
Uruha sighs and puts the phone down, turning to face Reita and deal with whatever will happen next.
Reita is looking at him with the same sympathetic expression, just waiting.
“Akira…” Uruha starts, and stops. Looks down at his hands. Decides he really doesn’t want Reita to leave, despite what he was telling himself before.
“You don’t have to tell me anything.” Reita says quietly. Uruha looks up sharply, disbelieving and relieved.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, Kouyou,” Reita continues, “But I need to ask.”
Uruha sighs, squares his shoulder. Reita deserves this. “Ask away.”
“Are you involved with, erm, the yakuza?” His voice is so hesitant, so damn understanding, and Fat Angie is dead and Kai is as good as and not even Ruki and Aoi can find happiness together and they’re the ones with the best chance, so Uruha feels completely justified in breaking down.
He hasn’t cried since he was nine and he broke his wrist, and now the sounds are being torn from him, ripping pieces of himself out as he releases them, almost as painful as what he’s crying for. And Uruha’s hands clench and shoulders hunch, because Reita is right there and Uruha’s too much of a coward to fix even that.
How Hyde thought Uruha would make a good leader, he doesn’t know.
Reita looks shocked for about 1.5 seconds before he leans forwards and wraps his arms around Uruha’s shoulders, tugging him closer until Uruha’s face is cradled in the crook of Reita’s neck and Reita is stroking his back soothingly as it lurches and heaves with sharp intakes of breath.
“Shhhh, baby, it’s fine, it’ll be fine, you’re okay.” Reita murmurs, tipping Uruha’s face up and kissing his cheeks, his eyelids, the corners of his mouth.
He keeps offering comfort until Uruha’s sobs have subsided, and when they have, Reita just picks Uruha up like Uruha is something to be taken care of and takes him to the bedroom, tucking Uruha in and curling around him afterwards.
Reita seems to take that outburst as a yes.
Uruha sighs, turning around to face Reita and kissing him lightly.
Here, in the quiet with just a hint of moonlight peeking through the veil of smog, Uruha can easily imagine letting the words that have been choking him for weeks free. Kouyou isn’t my name. Uruha is.
And Reita would be shocked and angry but would confess his own lie and then they’d -
They’d fuck only there’d be some tenderness from the past few weeks around to take the edge off.
Reita breaks them apart, tracing his fingers over Uruha’s features. “I lost people, too. I was younger, but…”
And Uruha feels the ache of an idea abandoned at his words, because Uruha knew who Reita was talking about.
“You won’t lose me.” Uruha says, not sure where the words are coming from. It’s not like he has a right to be promising that - he’s in the yakuza, death is something you deal with daily - but -
But he wants to. Be able to promise that.
Reita’s eyes have gone wide and blank with shock, his expression wavering for a moment.
And so to delay any words that might be redundant, Uruha kisses him and wrangles him out of his clothes, letting the sweetness of skin on skin distract the both of them for a few hours.
.:.:.
The next time he sees Ruki, Ruki is more irritable than usual, and spits and snarls at anyone who tries to get the reason out of him.
Luckily, Uruha is used to this fuckery, and needles him until he gets it out of Ruki.
“Aoi - Aoi’s seeing someone.” Ruki says, despondent. Uruha, much as he wants to offer something nice to say, can’t find it in himself. So instead he’s honest.
“Surprise, surprise.” Uruha says, and Ruki gives him a hard, pained look. Uruha shrugs. “Ruki, he’s not legally bound to you on account of you having unresolved feelings for him.” Or him having unresolved feelings for you, Uruha wants to add, but if Ruki can walk around for months with his head far enough up his ass he didn’t notice, Uruha isn’t going to clue him in just yet.
“I fucking know that, you dick!” Ruki spits, his hackles rising.
“Then what the hell is this? It’s your own fault you lost your chance, stop blaming the goddamn world because you couldn’t put on your big boy panties in time!” Uruha isn’t quite sure why he’s being as mean as he is, but it could be because the situation is so damn simple, that neither Aoi nor Ruki have demons from their conjoined past just waiting to ruin everything for them, and so Uruha finds it a complete waste that they were just too busy pining to actually get what they wanted.
Ruki punches him, and Uruha can’t say he didn’t deserve it.
That doesn’t mean he refrains from punching Ruki back, though.
.:.:.
He shows up at Reita’s doorstep a few hours later, his split lip puffy and his black eye throbbing. Hyde would chastise him for getting into a fight like an uncontrollable schoolboy, but all Reita does is glance over him before stepping aside to let Uruha in without a word.
They haven’t talked about Uruha’s career path since that night, but from the subtly uneasy looks Reita gives him, Reita’s thinking Uruha’s condition is because of that.
Uruha doesn’t have the energy to correct him.
The antiseptic burns when Reita cleans the split skin, and Uruha hisses before Reita kisses him to make him be quiet.
And damn if it doesn’t work.
Uruha tips his head back from where he’s sitting, letting Reita stand over him and dominate. Just as things are heading in a truly interesting direction, Reita pulls back, gasping.
“Are you free next Saturday?” He asks, panting.
Uruha smiles and leaves tiny nips along Reita’s jaw and neck, listening with satisfaction as his breath goes uneven. “Why?”
“I - oh shit - I have reservations to -” Reita gasps again, Uruha letting his hands wander. “To a restaurant, Kouyou, I’m trying to ask you on a date, goddamnit!”
Uruha laughs into Reita’s neck. “Okay, sure.”
Reita tenses, then, just for a moment, his muscles locking in something that might be shock. Uruha tilts his head to the side and wonders what Reita’s planning on talking about.
Something giddy sweeps through him, and he doesn’t stop the smile from spreading wider as Reita leads him to the bedroom.
.:.:.
“As far as we can tell, the Nishimura and the Kamui are planning to politically blitzkrieg us, as well as trying to take out our heavyweight champions.” Hyde says, looking around the table.
All of the important people of the Takarai Family are here, and Uruha shifts uncomfortably next to Ruki - who is still refusing to talk to him.
Hyde’s gaze turns to Uruha quickly. “Our heavyweight champions and our next leader.”
There are a few angry rumbles across the table. Uruha can’t say that the majority of the Family likes him, exactly, but they value hard work and skill, two things that Uruha has unlimited access to.
So none of them are too happy about Uruha potentially being in danger.
Uruha shrinks as he feels the ghost of the responsibility he may or may not want settling on his shoulders again.
Hyde picks up on this, because Hyde picks up on everything, and when he disbands the meeting, he asks for Uruha to stay behind.
Ruki, although not talking to Uruha, is still loyal to him, so he waits outside the door as Hyde turns to Uruha with a calculating air.
Uruha has never deluded himself that Hyde signed Uruha on as his next of kin out of affection, but he’s never seen what possessed him to do so.
“Uruha,” Hyde starts, “Has this Family not provided you with all the second chances you need? Have they not given you loyal friends?” Uruha grits his teeth. Hyde knows all the right buttons to push to activate Uruha’s guilt complex.
“I’m not going to back out of my duty, Hyde. I just don’t understand why you chose me.”
Hyde raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I wouldn’t be a good leader. I’m selfish and impulsive and have loads of issues. I don’t trust myself to lead, so how can you?” Uruha says, rather eloquently, in his opinion.
“The fact that you’re asking yourself those questions makes you a good enough potential for me.” Hyde says, and just like that, Uruha can tell the issue is closed.
Hyde sweeps out of the room and his honour guard closes in on him. Uruha takes a few moments to gather himself before following.
Ruki nudges his shoulder as they walk. “I called Aoi. We’re going to meet up and talk later today.”
Uruha feels something like pride and bittersweetness as he throws his arms around Ruki’s shoulders. “That doesn’t change the fact that he has a boyfriend.”
“I know,” Ruki shrugs, “But it might change my feelings towards it.”
Which isn’t the way happy endings are supposed to go, but hey.
They’ll make do.
.:.:.
Reita knocks at Uruha’s door at about 6:00 on Saturday, and Uruha opens said door to be faced with Reita in a casual suit that makes him re-think this whole dinner thing and makes him contemplate maybe just staying in and having sex.
That, and Uruha is not dressed fancy.
“Oh shit. You didn’t tell me it was a dressy thing.” Uruha says.
Reita’s eyes widen as he looks down at himself. “I didn’t? Er, shit. Well, it’s a dressy thing.”
Uruha nods before scampering off to the bedroom again to change, shouting over his shoulder at Reita to make himself comfortable.
Like he wouldn’t, anyway.
One perk - he thinks that with only the barest tinge of sarcasm - to being in the yakuza was that designer suits and Italian leather shoes were pretty much uniform, and Uruha had an abundance of both.
After changing, giddiness sweeping him again, he puts on a little cologne, because Uruha may or may not possibly perhaps might be engaged by the end of tonight and that demands the scent of Calvin Klein.
He bites his lips and tells himself not to get his hopes up before returning to his main room.
Reita is waiting there, looking just slightly nervous, but he smiles at Uruha easily when he sees him.
“You look fancy.” Reita leans in to kiss Uruha, and Uruha once again toys with the idea of just staying in.
But Reita draws back and makes a sweeping gesture towards the door. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
.:.:.
Reita gets more twitchy as they get there, and even more so as they finally become seated. He keeps glancing towards the clock and back to Uruha, his expression not a good kind of nervous.
Uruha is starting to have something like doubt come alive in his chest. “Akira? What’s going on?” He feels for his gun, still safely tucked away under his jacket.
“Fuck.” Reita hisses through his teeth. “Fuck, shit, goddamn.”
And then he’s standing up and grabbing Uruha’s wrist just a tad too hard and yanks him towards the door.
Something cold and hard solidifies in Uruha’s chest. “What the hell, Akira?”
“Shut up! Just fucking follow me, Uruha!” Reita spits back and yanks him harder. Uruha feels his blood go cold and follows Reita, his hands just starting to shake as they reach for his gun.
They reach the sidewalk and all hell breaks loose.
A few people on the street turn towards Reita and Uruha and start firing at them.
Reita curses and shoves them into the car they drove to the restaurant in.
As soon as Reita gets into the driver’s seat, he starts the ignition and drives away so quickly Uruha feels something a little like fear. Bullets thud against the window but don’t break it.
Bulletproof glass. Reita has bulletproof glass.
“What the fuck, Akira? What the hell is going on?” Uruha shouts, because there’s risking it and then there’s risking it, and Uruha thinks they’re well into the latter, now. His head is spinning, trying to piece together the situation based on a few insubstantial scraps of information. Reita knows who he is. Reita, Uruha realizes with horror, was probably the one who killed Fat Angie.
“My name’s Reita.” He spits. “My name’s Reita and I work for the Nishimura. You know me, Uruha.”
Uruha processes this information for a few seconds before starting to laugh, high pitched, only slightly hysterical. “Well that’s just fucking typical.” He curls up on himself as something dark and painful tears open in his chest cavity.
To think he thought he was going to be proposed to.
After Uruha’s laughter dies down he looks at Reita. Reita’s face is grim as he looks for tails in the rear-view mirror, and his knuckles are white where they rest on the steering wheel.
“So are you going to kill me?” Uruha asks, feeling hysteria rise in him again, making the words lilt as they leave his mouth. He could shoot Reita right now. He has a gun.
He could shoot Reita, but he won’t.
Naturally.
Reita glances towards him. “I’m supposed to.”
Uruha leans his face against the cool glass, unwilling to look at Reita. “So why don’t you?”
Because if everything was an act, then clearly it would be more than easy for Reita to finish the job.
“Because - because I don’t want to, Uruha. I thought that when I saw you again,” Reita swallows, “I’d finally be able to hate you, and that by doing this I’d get some kind of fucking closure or something.”
Uruha rolls his head towards him, smiling. “Did it work?” His voice is weak, too weak, but Uruha can’t find it in himself to care.
Reita glances over at him again, something soft and vulnerable there. “No.”
Uruha laughs. Reita looks away.
“You aren’t going to believe me and you have every right not to, but -” Reita pauses. “It wasn’t an act, Uruha. God, I wish it could have been, but it’s just like before. I can’t not - I can’t not care for you.”
There’s something close to breaking in Reita’s voice, and Uruha resists the urge to comfort him as betrayal and relief war with each other.
“So what now?” Uruha asks, but he doesn’t get an answer from Reita as his phone starts to buzz. He picks it up, tired. “Yeah?”
Ruki is on the other end, swearing up a storm. “Thank Jesus! Fuck, Uruha, where are you? Is that stupid fucker dead?”
Uruha contemplates asking how Ruki knew, but figures that it doesn’t really matter much. “I’ll meet you guys soon, at the west house.”
And then he hangs up, pulls out his gun, and points it at Reita’s head. “Follow my directions and I won’t pull the trigger.”
Unlike most smartasses, Reita doesn’t mention how that’ll be just as bad for Uruha as it will for him. He just nods agreeably, sadly. “Okay.”
.:.:.
They pull up to a safe house, located in the west side of the city, and Uruha is dully surprised to note that almost everyone of importance is there.
Guns are automatically aimed at Reita even before he finished parking, and Uruha nudges his head with the barrel as a sign to get out. Reita does.
Uruha follows tiredly, and as soon as he’s out of the car Ruki is running forwards, checking him over with his eyes and his hands.
“I’m fine, Ruki, I’m fine.” Uruha murmurs, because there’s a panicked look on Ruki’s face that isn’t easily soothed.
“I’m glad.” That’s Hyde’s voice, and Uruha looks up to see him stepping out of the crowd, looking at Reita with distaste.
Without a word, he whips out his own gun and places it on Reita’s forehead. Reita closes his eyes.
Uruha makes a protesting noise before the trigger can be pulled. Both Hyde and Reita looks at him curiously.
“Hyde, I can’t. Just. Please.” Uruha this forces out, the thing that had been building between him and Reita for months coming to a head. “I need him to live.”
Hyde raises an eyebrow. And pistol whips Reita. He falls to the ground, blood dribbling over his lips as he looks at Hyde with bright, bright eyes.
Hyde crouches down and traces Reita’s features with the barrel of his gun. “You’re going to get back into that car and drive as far away as possible. You’re going to drop all ties with any Families, and you’re never going to let me get a glimpse of you again. Because if you do,” Hyde continues as his voice lowers, “There won’t be a repeat performance of tonight. I don’t pull the same favour twice.”
Then he rises and turns his back on Reita, walking away and mentioning for Uruha to do the same.
Uruha hesitates, looking at Reita’s prone figure. But then he turns to following Hyde, feeling his Family follow his lead, leaving Reita behind for the second time in his life.
.:.:.
It’s a few months later that Uruha walks home to his (new) apartment, wrinkling his nose at the almost faded scent of new paint, to find Kai sitting at his kitchen table with a pot of coffee in front of him and a mug of tea in hand.
(His old apartment was too imbued with memories, and Uruha found his couldn’t stay there.)
Uruha ignores his sense of déjà vu and sits across from Kai, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“How are you?” Uruha asks politely, because Kai has been gone a few months on business and Uruha’s found that that’s always a good way to start a conversation with a twitchy trauma survivor.
Kai raises an eyebrow and slides a piece of paper across the table towards him. Uruha opens it up as Kai answers. “Miyavi just moved in. Things are going pretty…good.”
There’s an address on the piece of paper, and Uruha feels something loosen in his chest. He really doesn’t have to ask whose address it is. “That’s amazing. I’m happy for you. Ruki and Aoi are thinking about moving in together. I think it’s about time.”
He looks up to Kai with a smile, grasping his hand and squeezing it once in thanks. They make a few more minutes of small talk before Kai leaves again, leaving Uruha to his thoughts.
He decides to have a road trip the next day.
.:.:.
Reita now lives about three hours outside the city, and Uruha takes his time getting there, weaving in and out of back roads for no other reason than he can.
When he does pull up on the driveway, he takes a moment just to breathe, looking at the small house that is currently holding someone he may or may not be head over heels with.
Uruha sighs and decides to man up, opening the car door and walking up to the house.
It takes three tries for him to actually manage knocking, and another three for him to actually knock loud enough for anyone to hear him.
But then the door opens.
Reita looks good. Shocked, but good. He leans against the doorframe as he regards Uruha, checking behind him to see of there was anyone else he should be concerned about.
There isn’t, and when that’s done, he returns his gaze to Uruha. “Hey.” He says hesitantly.
Uruha smiles and holds out his hand. “Hi, I’m Uruha. I’m in the yakuza, have a lot of psychological issues, and happen to like blonds with a motorcycle fetish.”
Reita raises his eyebrow but smiles back and takes Uruha hand. “I’m Reita. I’m a mechanic, an idiot, and happen to have a motorcycle fetish.”
They shake hands. Reita steps back. “Would you like to come in?”
Uruha most definitely would.
***
A/N: Imagine if I knew how to end things. My life would be so much happier. So, merry Christmas, darling, and I hope you like your present!
From: Naughty Reindeer
Title: The Fifth Law
Genre: Drama, Mafia, Action
Warnings: Swearing, Mild Violence, Yakuza Shenanigans
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Reita/Uruha, Ruki/Aoi, brief mentions of Reita/Uruha/Kai
Synopsis: It takes all of about 5 seconds for everything to go to shit
Comments:UNF, this prompt. //drools At the mentions of ‘dysfunctional’ and ‘yakuza’, my brain exploded. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I had writing it~
Part I
Ruki is, in one word, furious. Livid perhaps may be another. Irate. Enraged.
Ruki is, in many words, in Uruha’s bedroom insulting him at the top of his lungs and opening the curtain, blinding Uruha with the light of the day.
“Fuuuuuuuuck, Ruki, what the fuck?” Uruha moans this into his pillow, grinding his forehead into the soft down to avoid the light.
“You stupid shit, everyone thought you were dead, too, you stupid fucker, god just - ”
“Wait, what? What are you talking about?” Uruha is damn sure focusing now, bolting upright and grabbing Ruki’s arm.
It’s then that he notices that Ruki’s eyes are red from lack of sleep, and both his hair and his clothes are rumpled. These are dire signs. Ruki glares. Uruha waits.
“The Kamui are as pissed as fuck over the people we killed, and they’re forming an alliance of sorts with the Nishimura, and they got to Mana, damnit. He was found dead in his motherfucking apartment and you weren’t picking up your phone and just. Fuck.” Ruki crumples, falling onto Uruha’s bed.
“And you couldn’t just check yourself?”
“You weren’t here and even Kai was getting antsy. That fucker doesn’t even have a mortal soul, when he gets worried it’s time to freak the fuck out.”
Uruha breathes in, calming, out. “Okay, well, I’m fine.” Except he isn’t, because this probably means trouble is on the horizon, which is never very much of a good thing.
“Do you know how fucked we all would have been if you had died?” Ruki hasn’t let it go just yet, his eyes still flaring with panic.
“Yes, Ruki, I know, damnit.” Uruha doesn’t like what’s coming next, doesn’t like the ghost of responsibility he can feel settling on his shoulders.
“You’re our next boss, you stupid shit. Next time you want to fuck us all up, by all means, disappear again.” These words are hurled at him as weapons, and if nothing else, it’s a good reminder as to why Ruki is the next second in command.
Uruha doesn’t like thinking about it, really. He’s not sure what he felt when Hyde took him aside and told him the news, nor is he sure what he feels now, but he is sure that the feelings aren’t completely positive.
“So where were you?” Now that Ruki had lost his reason for panic, he turns shrewd. Uruha had every reason to feel a shiver of terror down his spine.
“A date. For the whole day. It’s hard to describe.”
Which it isn’t, really, but Uruha doesn’t really want to tell anyone about it just yet. Except for Kai. He does want to tell Kai.
.:.:.
But Kai, apparently, is refusing to care. Uruha is sitting in Kai’s living room, having finished spilling his guts all over the overpriced Persian carpet, listening with disbelief to Kai’s response.
“Uruha, what you’re doing is your own business, but Reita - or Akira, or fucking Santa Clause if that’s what he wants to be called - and I parted ways on bitter terms a while ago. And it’s lovely that you’re…whatever you two are, but….” And then Kai glances at his bedroom door, where Uruha just bets Whore is sleeping.
“What the hell is with you and that hooker, Kai?” Uruha sounds accusing and whiny, but he has a right to, damnit, and he’s taking himself up on that right. Kai looks angry, which is in itself a sight to behold. Uruha doesn’t think that bodes well for him.
“He has a name, Miyavi, and you know what? It’s not like we can talk. I kill people and you interrogate people and then kill them, and you’re next in line to take over a motherfucking yakuza family, so I really don’t think you even have a right, really, to be criticizing him for doing what it takes to survive.” Kai looks almost human, his wooden smile gone, his expression liquid and changing with each word. Uruha snarls.
“Do you think I want this?”
“Do you think he wants to have to spread his goddamn legs for whoever can pay the price so he has a roof over his head and food to eat?”
They stare at each other angrily, before Kai sighs and walks over to Uruha. He places his hand on Uruha’s shoulder and draws Uruha to lean against Kai’s stomach, and Kai curls over Uruha, pressing a kiss to the top of Uruha’s head.
It’s quite possibly the most awkward hug Uruha has ever gotten, but it’s also the closest they’ve been in two years and Uruha feels something hollow inside his chest warm up and gain life again.
“Just let me do this, Uruha.” The words are whispered. “He makes me feel like I’m still worth it.”
And Uruha would have happily been that person, but he’s starting to get that there are some things that can’t be gained back once lost. Apparently Kai is one of them.
“How about if you don’t give me shit about Miyavi, I won’t give you shit about Reita… even though I probably could.”
Which, yeah, he could, so Uruha just mumbles something like an agreement and wraps his arms around Kai’s hips in a sort of hug back.
They stay like that for a few minutes until there’s a cough at the doorway. Uruha and Kai turn to look, and there’s Miyavi, staring at them with a mix of confusion, resentment and bitterness.
Kai breaks away, gesturing at Uruha. “Miyavi, this is Uruha.”
Miyavi’s eyes widen and he nods, the resentment and confusion disappearing. Apparently bitterness was just a permanent thing.
Kai drifts over, putting his arm around Miyavi’s waist and Uruha decides that now is time to go, before he remembers how alone he is and starts crying in Kai’s living room.
.:.:.
The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of extra security measures, awkward conversations with Kai, attempting to get to know Miyavi, dealing with the sexual tension between Ruki and Aoi - it has risen to a whole new level, until Uruha feels like he’s witnessing an intimate moment whenever they’re within three feet of each other - and Reita. Reita, who shows up at the most random of moments to take Uruha out. Who’s a combination of the boy Uruha used to know and some kind stranger that seems desperate to get to know Uruha for all his flaws. Who actually seemed to be telling the truth when he said he was going to stick around.
Uruha’s not sure how to deal with that. He’s not comfortable with this slow shift of gravity, the one that seems to be settling on Reita as the center.
As it stands, Uruha is now spread-eagled on his couch, gasping appreciation as Reita scrapes his teeth down Uruha’s neck. Uruha’s phone rings, and Uruha - as much as he wants to ignore it - groans and resolves to answer.
Since the incident a few weeks ago - Uruha, while never liking Mana, could as least admit to himself that he was one strong motherfucker, and it would take an even stronger motherfucker to take him down. Caution is needed, Uruha recognizes - he’d been picking up every call he’s gotten, just to avoid the panic that happens when he doesn’t.
So as much as he’d rather ignore it and let Reita keep doing what he’s doing, he’s pretty sure that if he does ten people armed like SWAT members would burst into his apartment to defend his flower of maidenhood within five minutes.
Uruha sighs and pushes Reita away as he fumbles for his phone. Reita, for his part, doesn’t seem too disappointed. He just curls himself around Uruha and presses rather distracting kisses to his neck as Uruha brings the phone to his ear.
“Yeah?” His voice is only mildly breathy, for which Uruha congratulates himself.
“Our mutual contact is dead.” Kai’s voice is clipped, the tone you hear during business transactions. If Uruha hadn’t known him for so long, he wouldn’t have been able to detect the thread of something just a little vulnerable in his voice.
They only have one mutual contact.
“Fat Angie?” Uruha gasps, breaking away from Reita’s hold. Reita shoots him a concerned look and holds his hand.
Uruha has never been one for indulging himself in vulnerability - that’s one sure fire way to get you killed - but as his world rocks around him, he decides that it’s not like it’ll make the situation worse to grasp Reita’s hand like a lifeline.
“What? How?” Uruha asks, and Kai sighs down the phone.
“They just got her body out of the river now. It was a complete accident she was found, just a stupid fishing mistake. Whoever did the job did it well.” Kai’s voice was grim.
“It was a job?” Uruha curled up on himself. He knew, distantly, that every time he asked someone to get information for him, he was putting their lives in danger. But there’s a difference between knowing that and actually having someone die within his circle of eyes and ears.
“Her tongue was cut out before she was killed. So were her eyes. That’s a clear enough signal to whoever she talked to, to keep their mouths shut.” Kai pauses. “Did you having her hunting down some information?”
Uruha tenses and looks at Reita. Reita’s sitting next to Uruha with a completely supportive, sympathetic look on his face, and even though he doesn’t know what the problem is, he looks like he wants to help Uruha all the same.
Uruha just can’t see him cutting someone’s tongue out and throwing them in a river. He can’t see Reita involved with the yakuza, period.
“Nothing that would have gotten her on the wrong side of a boss.” Uruha says, his voice an aching sound. It’s only after he says it, that he realizes that it’s probably the wrong choice of words for a civilian to hear, but he can’t bring himself to care.
Either Reita will stay, or he’ll finally see what a screw up Uruha is and will leave.
“I’ll do some more digging, then.” Kai says, and hangs up.
Uruha sighs and puts the phone down, turning to face Reita and deal with whatever will happen next.
Reita is looking at him with the same sympathetic expression, just waiting.
“Akira…” Uruha starts, and stops. Looks down at his hands. Decides he really doesn’t want Reita to leave, despite what he was telling himself before.
“You don’t have to tell me anything.” Reita says quietly. Uruha looks up sharply, disbelieving and relieved.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, Kouyou,” Reita continues, “But I need to ask.”
Uruha sighs, squares his shoulder. Reita deserves this. “Ask away.”
“Are you involved with, erm, the yakuza?” His voice is so hesitant, so damn understanding, and Fat Angie is dead and Kai is as good as and not even Ruki and Aoi can find happiness together and they’re the ones with the best chance, so Uruha feels completely justified in breaking down.
He hasn’t cried since he was nine and he broke his wrist, and now the sounds are being torn from him, ripping pieces of himself out as he releases them, almost as painful as what he’s crying for. And Uruha’s hands clench and shoulders hunch, because Reita is right there and Uruha’s too much of a coward to fix even that.
How Hyde thought Uruha would make a good leader, he doesn’t know.
Reita looks shocked for about 1.5 seconds before he leans forwards and wraps his arms around Uruha’s shoulders, tugging him closer until Uruha’s face is cradled in the crook of Reita’s neck and Reita is stroking his back soothingly as it lurches and heaves with sharp intakes of breath.
“Shhhh, baby, it’s fine, it’ll be fine, you’re okay.” Reita murmurs, tipping Uruha’s face up and kissing his cheeks, his eyelids, the corners of his mouth.
He keeps offering comfort until Uruha’s sobs have subsided, and when they have, Reita just picks Uruha up like Uruha is something to be taken care of and takes him to the bedroom, tucking Uruha in and curling around him afterwards.
Reita seems to take that outburst as a yes.
Uruha sighs, turning around to face Reita and kissing him lightly.
Here, in the quiet with just a hint of moonlight peeking through the veil of smog, Uruha can easily imagine letting the words that have been choking him for weeks free. Kouyou isn’t my name. Uruha is.
And Reita would be shocked and angry but would confess his own lie and then they’d -
They’d fuck only there’d be some tenderness from the past few weeks around to take the edge off.
Reita breaks them apart, tracing his fingers over Uruha’s features. “I lost people, too. I was younger, but…”
And Uruha feels the ache of an idea abandoned at his words, because Uruha knew who Reita was talking about.
“You won’t lose me.” Uruha says, not sure where the words are coming from. It’s not like he has a right to be promising that - he’s in the yakuza, death is something you deal with daily - but -
But he wants to. Be able to promise that.
Reita’s eyes have gone wide and blank with shock, his expression wavering for a moment.
And so to delay any words that might be redundant, Uruha kisses him and wrangles him out of his clothes, letting the sweetness of skin on skin distract the both of them for a few hours.
.:.:.
The next time he sees Ruki, Ruki is more irritable than usual, and spits and snarls at anyone who tries to get the reason out of him.
Luckily, Uruha is used to this fuckery, and needles him until he gets it out of Ruki.
“Aoi - Aoi’s seeing someone.” Ruki says, despondent. Uruha, much as he wants to offer something nice to say, can’t find it in himself. So instead he’s honest.
“Surprise, surprise.” Uruha says, and Ruki gives him a hard, pained look. Uruha shrugs. “Ruki, he’s not legally bound to you on account of you having unresolved feelings for him.” Or him having unresolved feelings for you, Uruha wants to add, but if Ruki can walk around for months with his head far enough up his ass he didn’t notice, Uruha isn’t going to clue him in just yet.
“I fucking know that, you dick!” Ruki spits, his hackles rising.
“Then what the hell is this? It’s your own fault you lost your chance, stop blaming the goddamn world because you couldn’t put on your big boy panties in time!” Uruha isn’t quite sure why he’s being as mean as he is, but it could be because the situation is so damn simple, that neither Aoi nor Ruki have demons from their conjoined past just waiting to ruin everything for them, and so Uruha finds it a complete waste that they were just too busy pining to actually get what they wanted.
Ruki punches him, and Uruha can’t say he didn’t deserve it.
That doesn’t mean he refrains from punching Ruki back, though.
.:.:.
He shows up at Reita’s doorstep a few hours later, his split lip puffy and his black eye throbbing. Hyde would chastise him for getting into a fight like an uncontrollable schoolboy, but all Reita does is glance over him before stepping aside to let Uruha in without a word.
They haven’t talked about Uruha’s career path since that night, but from the subtly uneasy looks Reita gives him, Reita’s thinking Uruha’s condition is because of that.
Uruha doesn’t have the energy to correct him.
The antiseptic burns when Reita cleans the split skin, and Uruha hisses before Reita kisses him to make him be quiet.
And damn if it doesn’t work.
Uruha tips his head back from where he’s sitting, letting Reita stand over him and dominate. Just as things are heading in a truly interesting direction, Reita pulls back, gasping.
“Are you free next Saturday?” He asks, panting.
Uruha smiles and leaves tiny nips along Reita’s jaw and neck, listening with satisfaction as his breath goes uneven. “Why?”
“I - oh shit - I have reservations to -” Reita gasps again, Uruha letting his hands wander. “To a restaurant, Kouyou, I’m trying to ask you on a date, goddamnit!”
Uruha laughs into Reita’s neck. “Okay, sure.”
Reita tenses, then, just for a moment, his muscles locking in something that might be shock. Uruha tilts his head to the side and wonders what Reita’s planning on talking about.
Something giddy sweeps through him, and he doesn’t stop the smile from spreading wider as Reita leads him to the bedroom.
.:.:.
“As far as we can tell, the Nishimura and the Kamui are planning to politically blitzkrieg us, as well as trying to take out our heavyweight champions.” Hyde says, looking around the table.
All of the important people of the Takarai Family are here, and Uruha shifts uncomfortably next to Ruki - who is still refusing to talk to him.
Hyde’s gaze turns to Uruha quickly. “Our heavyweight champions and our next leader.”
There are a few angry rumbles across the table. Uruha can’t say that the majority of the Family likes him, exactly, but they value hard work and skill, two things that Uruha has unlimited access to.
So none of them are too happy about Uruha potentially being in danger.
Uruha shrinks as he feels the ghost of the responsibility he may or may not want settling on his shoulders again.
Hyde picks up on this, because Hyde picks up on everything, and when he disbands the meeting, he asks for Uruha to stay behind.
Ruki, although not talking to Uruha, is still loyal to him, so he waits outside the door as Hyde turns to Uruha with a calculating air.
Uruha has never deluded himself that Hyde signed Uruha on as his next of kin out of affection, but he’s never seen what possessed him to do so.
“Uruha,” Hyde starts, “Has this Family not provided you with all the second chances you need? Have they not given you loyal friends?” Uruha grits his teeth. Hyde knows all the right buttons to push to activate Uruha’s guilt complex.
“I’m not going to back out of my duty, Hyde. I just don’t understand why you chose me.”
Hyde raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I wouldn’t be a good leader. I’m selfish and impulsive and have loads of issues. I don’t trust myself to lead, so how can you?” Uruha says, rather eloquently, in his opinion.
“The fact that you’re asking yourself those questions makes you a good enough potential for me.” Hyde says, and just like that, Uruha can tell the issue is closed.
Hyde sweeps out of the room and his honour guard closes in on him. Uruha takes a few moments to gather himself before following.
Ruki nudges his shoulder as they walk. “I called Aoi. We’re going to meet up and talk later today.”
Uruha feels something like pride and bittersweetness as he throws his arms around Ruki’s shoulders. “That doesn’t change the fact that he has a boyfriend.”
“I know,” Ruki shrugs, “But it might change my feelings towards it.”
Which isn’t the way happy endings are supposed to go, but hey.
They’ll make do.
.:.:.
Reita knocks at Uruha’s door at about 6:00 on Saturday, and Uruha opens said door to be faced with Reita in a casual suit that makes him re-think this whole dinner thing and makes him contemplate maybe just staying in and having sex.
That, and Uruha is not dressed fancy.
“Oh shit. You didn’t tell me it was a dressy thing.” Uruha says.
Reita’s eyes widen as he looks down at himself. “I didn’t? Er, shit. Well, it’s a dressy thing.”
Uruha nods before scampering off to the bedroom again to change, shouting over his shoulder at Reita to make himself comfortable.
Like he wouldn’t, anyway.
One perk - he thinks that with only the barest tinge of sarcasm - to being in the yakuza was that designer suits and Italian leather shoes were pretty much uniform, and Uruha had an abundance of both.
After changing, giddiness sweeping him again, he puts on a little cologne, because Uruha may or may not possibly perhaps might be engaged by the end of tonight and that demands the scent of Calvin Klein.
He bites his lips and tells himself not to get his hopes up before returning to his main room.
Reita is waiting there, looking just slightly nervous, but he smiles at Uruha easily when he sees him.
“You look fancy.” Reita leans in to kiss Uruha, and Uruha once again toys with the idea of just staying in.
But Reita draws back and makes a sweeping gesture towards the door. “Shall we?”
“We shall.”
.:.:.
Reita gets more twitchy as they get there, and even more so as they finally become seated. He keeps glancing towards the clock and back to Uruha, his expression not a good kind of nervous.
Uruha is starting to have something like doubt come alive in his chest. “Akira? What’s going on?” He feels for his gun, still safely tucked away under his jacket.
“Fuck.” Reita hisses through his teeth. “Fuck, shit, goddamn.”
And then he’s standing up and grabbing Uruha’s wrist just a tad too hard and yanks him towards the door.
Something cold and hard solidifies in Uruha’s chest. “What the hell, Akira?”
“Shut up! Just fucking follow me, Uruha!” Reita spits back and yanks him harder. Uruha feels his blood go cold and follows Reita, his hands just starting to shake as they reach for his gun.
They reach the sidewalk and all hell breaks loose.
A few people on the street turn towards Reita and Uruha and start firing at them.
Reita curses and shoves them into the car they drove to the restaurant in.
As soon as Reita gets into the driver’s seat, he starts the ignition and drives away so quickly Uruha feels something a little like fear. Bullets thud against the window but don’t break it.
Bulletproof glass. Reita has bulletproof glass.
“What the fuck, Akira? What the hell is going on?” Uruha shouts, because there’s risking it and then there’s risking it, and Uruha thinks they’re well into the latter, now. His head is spinning, trying to piece together the situation based on a few insubstantial scraps of information. Reita knows who he is. Reita, Uruha realizes with horror, was probably the one who killed Fat Angie.
“My name’s Reita.” He spits. “My name’s Reita and I work for the Nishimura. You know me, Uruha.”
Uruha processes this information for a few seconds before starting to laugh, high pitched, only slightly hysterical. “Well that’s just fucking typical.” He curls up on himself as something dark and painful tears open in his chest cavity.
To think he thought he was going to be proposed to.
After Uruha’s laughter dies down he looks at Reita. Reita’s face is grim as he looks for tails in the rear-view mirror, and his knuckles are white where they rest on the steering wheel.
“So are you going to kill me?” Uruha asks, feeling hysteria rise in him again, making the words lilt as they leave his mouth. He could shoot Reita right now. He has a gun.
He could shoot Reita, but he won’t.
Naturally.
Reita glances towards him. “I’m supposed to.”
Uruha leans his face against the cool glass, unwilling to look at Reita. “So why don’t you?”
Because if everything was an act, then clearly it would be more than easy for Reita to finish the job.
“Because - because I don’t want to, Uruha. I thought that when I saw you again,” Reita swallows, “I’d finally be able to hate you, and that by doing this I’d get some kind of fucking closure or something.”
Uruha rolls his head towards him, smiling. “Did it work?” His voice is weak, too weak, but Uruha can’t find it in himself to care.
Reita glances over at him again, something soft and vulnerable there. “No.”
Uruha laughs. Reita looks away.
“You aren’t going to believe me and you have every right not to, but -” Reita pauses. “It wasn’t an act, Uruha. God, I wish it could have been, but it’s just like before. I can’t not - I can’t not care for you.”
There’s something close to breaking in Reita’s voice, and Uruha resists the urge to comfort him as betrayal and relief war with each other.
“So what now?” Uruha asks, but he doesn’t get an answer from Reita as his phone starts to buzz. He picks it up, tired. “Yeah?”
Ruki is on the other end, swearing up a storm. “Thank Jesus! Fuck, Uruha, where are you? Is that stupid fucker dead?”
Uruha contemplates asking how Ruki knew, but figures that it doesn’t really matter much. “I’ll meet you guys soon, at the west house.”
And then he hangs up, pulls out his gun, and points it at Reita’s head. “Follow my directions and I won’t pull the trigger.”
Unlike most smartasses, Reita doesn’t mention how that’ll be just as bad for Uruha as it will for him. He just nods agreeably, sadly. “Okay.”
.:.:.
They pull up to a safe house, located in the west side of the city, and Uruha is dully surprised to note that almost everyone of importance is there.
Guns are automatically aimed at Reita even before he finished parking, and Uruha nudges his head with the barrel as a sign to get out. Reita does.
Uruha follows tiredly, and as soon as he’s out of the car Ruki is running forwards, checking him over with his eyes and his hands.
“I’m fine, Ruki, I’m fine.” Uruha murmurs, because there’s a panicked look on Ruki’s face that isn’t easily soothed.
“I’m glad.” That’s Hyde’s voice, and Uruha looks up to see him stepping out of the crowd, looking at Reita with distaste.
Without a word, he whips out his own gun and places it on Reita’s forehead. Reita closes his eyes.
Uruha makes a protesting noise before the trigger can be pulled. Both Hyde and Reita looks at him curiously.
“Hyde, I can’t. Just. Please.” Uruha this forces out, the thing that had been building between him and Reita for months coming to a head. “I need him to live.”
Hyde raises an eyebrow. And pistol whips Reita. He falls to the ground, blood dribbling over his lips as he looks at Hyde with bright, bright eyes.
Hyde crouches down and traces Reita’s features with the barrel of his gun. “You’re going to get back into that car and drive as far away as possible. You’re going to drop all ties with any Families, and you’re never going to let me get a glimpse of you again. Because if you do,” Hyde continues as his voice lowers, “There won’t be a repeat performance of tonight. I don’t pull the same favour twice.”
Then he rises and turns his back on Reita, walking away and mentioning for Uruha to do the same.
Uruha hesitates, looking at Reita’s prone figure. But then he turns to following Hyde, feeling his Family follow his lead, leaving Reita behind for the second time in his life.
.:.:.
It’s a few months later that Uruha walks home to his (new) apartment, wrinkling his nose at the almost faded scent of new paint, to find Kai sitting at his kitchen table with a pot of coffee in front of him and a mug of tea in hand.
(His old apartment was too imbued with memories, and Uruha found his couldn’t stay there.)
Uruha ignores his sense of déjà vu and sits across from Kai, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“How are you?” Uruha asks politely, because Kai has been gone a few months on business and Uruha’s found that that’s always a good way to start a conversation with a twitchy trauma survivor.
Kai raises an eyebrow and slides a piece of paper across the table towards him. Uruha opens it up as Kai answers. “Miyavi just moved in. Things are going pretty…good.”
There’s an address on the piece of paper, and Uruha feels something loosen in his chest. He really doesn’t have to ask whose address it is. “That’s amazing. I’m happy for you. Ruki and Aoi are thinking about moving in together. I think it’s about time.”
He looks up to Kai with a smile, grasping his hand and squeezing it once in thanks. They make a few more minutes of small talk before Kai leaves again, leaving Uruha to his thoughts.
He decides to have a road trip the next day.
.:.:.
Reita now lives about three hours outside the city, and Uruha takes his time getting there, weaving in and out of back roads for no other reason than he can.
When he does pull up on the driveway, he takes a moment just to breathe, looking at the small house that is currently holding someone he may or may not be head over heels with.
Uruha sighs and decides to man up, opening the car door and walking up to the house.
It takes three tries for him to actually manage knocking, and another three for him to actually knock loud enough for anyone to hear him.
But then the door opens.
Reita looks good. Shocked, but good. He leans against the doorframe as he regards Uruha, checking behind him to see of there was anyone else he should be concerned about.
There isn’t, and when that’s done, he returns his gaze to Uruha. “Hey.” He says hesitantly.
Uruha smiles and holds out his hand. “Hi, I’m Uruha. I’m in the yakuza, have a lot of psychological issues, and happen to like blonds with a motorcycle fetish.”
Reita raises his eyebrow but smiles back and takes Uruha hand. “I’m Reita. I’m a mechanic, an idiot, and happen to have a motorcycle fetish.”
They shake hands. Reita steps back. “Would you like to come in?”
Uruha most definitely would.
***
A/N: Imagine if I knew how to end things. My life would be so much happier. So, merry Christmas, darling, and I hope you like your present!