(no subject)
Fandom: TOKIO RPS
Title: Either You Swim, Either You Fade
Category: drama, paranormal, timestamp for Heirs of a Cold War, with a sprinkle of smut
Pairing: Gussan/Nagase
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Summary: It’s not like I can put out a Do Not Disturb, Ghosts Especially! sign, and it's not like I get huge amounts of non-ghost time. So it was either learn to not mind being watched or do without sex altogether, and I’m really thinking that if I’d had to give up one more thing… just one more basic thing that everyone else gets to have without even thinking about it…
Notes: Two fics in one month, yays me. ;) Okay, it's a timestamp, so maybe not as good as something new, but it's over the 2K word count, so not just a throwaway fic, either. As some people might guess, I gave Nagase an ability that I blatantly stole from the kdrama Cheo Yong (which was much of the yummy), though I did handle it in a slightly different way, so it's not a 100% ripoff... just 98%, instead. *koff*
Oh, and the title's from Bush (from Float: it's a beautiful world, everyone's insane, either you swim, either you fade), like that's a surprise at this point)!
Read here, or read on AO3, your choice.
~*~
Tatsuya would have grimaced at the pain that being slammed into the office’s glass wall made, but a cocker spaniel's face really wasn't geared to it. He did whimper a little (and damned once again how dog-like he became when he was, well, a dog), which he instantly regretted since it distracted Nagase at a bad time.
The blade didn't cut too deeply, just scoring the kid on across his left arm, and (thankfully for Tatsuya's sense of guilt) the bastard wielding it had cause to regret what he'd done right away, too, because Nagase, grinning like mad (something his face was well geared to), swiped at the blood with his right hand before driving it right into the guy's face. The punch, like most of the ones the kid had landed so far, barely registered, the possession making the poor tool being possessed far stronger and stoic than you'd expect a chartered accountant to be, but the blood... that made the guy scream.
Tatsuya had heard that scream before (and considering it was Nagase’s blood that caused it, far too often for his comfort), but he never got used to it. It was the sound of someone who could see hell right in front of them. Their used-to-be chartered accountant tried to fight it off, tried to escape it, tried to take Nagase with him, but he could only get in one last strike before he burned away, ash and sulfur showering the two left standing.
Usually Tatsuya hated when any of the ash got on him (it gave him the heebie jeebies if he was being honest), but that time, with Nagase now clutching at the knife sticking out of his shoulder, his grin replaced by what could definitely be called a grimace, Tatsuya ignored it, shifting back to human (if an ashy one) just in time to keep the kid from dropping right in a pile of the stuff.
Nagase kept wriggling, trying to stand back up on his own, but, even with the possibility of a security guard showing up at any time, Tatsuya wasn’t having any of it until he could see how serious the wound was. From the way the kid went from trying to get up to trying to grind up against him, Tatsuya guessed it wasn’t too serious, but then he wasn’t quite sure that Nagase wouldn’t try for some action even in his grave, so it wasn’t a guarantee.
It turned out it really wasn’t too serious (though worse than Tatsuya was ever going to be comfortable with), and Tatsuya managed to get the blade out and the wound wrapped in the bandaging he always insisted Nagase carry on him (since it wasn’t like Tatsuya was likely to have pockets when things got rough).
That lack of pockets became really noticeable at about that time, what with Tatsuya not having any necessary doctoring to distract him from the fact that Nagase was sitting (and still occasionally grinding) right on his very naked dick.
True to form, Nagase neither ignored Tatsuya’s inappropriate reaction to him (especially inappropriate considering their situation: hurt (Nagase), naked (Tatsuya), in an office building that was closed for the night but with a security guard that made regular rounds (both of them)), nor missed an opportunity to be completely cheesy, waggling his eyebrows as he asked, “Are you happy to see me or is that just a dick in your pocket? Or more like my pocket, considering you don’t have any at the moment, and said dick certainly seems interested in getting in my pants.”
It wasn’t like Tatsuya hadn’t seen it coming, considering that Nagase was often horny after a job (exorcism, taking down someone who was possessed, doing the grocery shopping for the week, etc etc), partly because at nineteen he was pretty much a walking hard-on, and partly because he needed something to chase away the dark places (something that Tatsuya certainly understood, since it was one of the reasons he always gave in). But Tatsuya just had to shake his head about the kid forever trying it on in public or at least semi-public places, especially if it was someplace they weren’t even supposed to be. “What is it with you and being an exhibitionist?”
Nagase ignored the question for the moment, more intent on getting rid of his own pockets as well as what was left of his shirt. He continued to ignore it while he pushed Tatsuya back until he was sitting on what had been the accountant’s desk, shoving files, books, and a laptop off the desk to get them more room before pushing Tatsuya back even further, his back against the wall and Nagase straddled over him (straddled over the dick that definitely had exhibitionist tendencies itself, hard and ready regardless of what Tatsuya thought of the whole thing). He ignored the question right up until he didn’t, answering with none of his usual ‘take nothing seriously’ casualness. “It’s not like I can put out a Do Not Disturb, Ghosts Especially! sign, and it's not like I get huge amounts of non-ghost time. So it was either learn to not mind being watched or do without sex altogether, and I’m really thinking that if I’d had to give up one more thing… just one more basic thing that everyone else gets to have without even thinking about it…”
He paused, eyes dark and hooded in the low light of the supposed-to-be-empty office, before he shook himself, his undeterred dick pressing against Tatsuya’s, making them both shake a little more even as he continued, “I had no choice, or no choice but the one that Mabo’s fighting to this day. Isn’t slut better than crazy?”
And what could Tatsuya say to that? Stuck in the Institute at the ripe old age of ten because those around him couldn’t see what he could and chose to call him crazy instead of gifted (or cursed, depending on your point of view), only to then get conscripted at the age of twelve by a secret government agency because of said gift… that would pretty much be enough to drive most people a little bonkers. Add in the fact that at thirteen they’d found out (by horrible, horrible accident) that some ghosts could possess people, literally take over their lives, not just their bodies, and, even though he kept trying to find a way to undo the possession, so far the only way Nagase had found to end it was to burn both ghost and victim away with his own blood (another piece of information found out in the horrible, horrible accident)… it was a wonder that the kid didn’t spend all of his time hiding under a bed.
So Tatsuya didn’t say anything, letting his hands and lips map the face that made heads turn as they walked down the street, let them trace over the long neck that drove him to distraction and down the chest that was too skinny even with as much as Leader nagged the brat to eat. He pulled Nagase up on his knees, those long thighs making the height just right for him to lean back and let Nagase fuck into his mouth, the kid half-crazy with need, but holding so tightly to his control (fingers scrabbling against the wall), trying not to hurt anyone he didn’t have to. It could almost make Tatsuya cry, that control, but he was feeling too good, Nagase filling his mouth and throat until he almost couldn’t breathe, didn’t even feel like he needed to, just as long as he could keep the kid there, so alive (and safe) in that moment that it was better than air.
When Nagase came, Tatsuya swallowed some of it (a talisman of sorts, though he’d never admit it), but he let the rest of it spill out down his chin and chest, running his fingers through it even as Nagase sank back down, eager to push himself onto Tatsuya’s dick even without any prep, but holding still under his hands, waiting as impatient fingers worked him open. Waiting but shaking with need (his own, Tatsuya’s) as Tatsuya pulled him down, pushed up, both of them crying out at the still too tight fit, at the burn that was part pleasure, part reminder, and neither of them caring if someone caught them at it.
Even with the not caring, Tatsuya knew they should hurry (knew it was stupid to have given in again); the agency wasn’t going to be happy about having to cover up another ‘suspects sought after <'insert name here'> went missing and the suspects fled the scene’. But as horny as Nagase (and Tatsuya, for that matter) was, these moments were still too precious to rush, the feel of one of the people he loved most under his hands and all that hot heat around his dick until he could have died from it and not cared. Tatsuya couldn’t help but savor it. Couldn’t help but draw it out until Nagase shuddered around him, over him, the feel of him coming again too much to resist until Tatsuya had to come as well.
Tatsuya let seniority work for him, making Nagase get up for the towel they always kept in their work backpack (Tatsuya had been a good scout at one time and, obviously, it was going to be needed more often than it should be). It gave him a moment to recover and also let him appreciate the view of a naked Nagase. All those people who turned and stared knew what they were doing; he was a pretty sight, even with all the scars littered across his body. The feeling that tugged at Tatsuya’s heart when he saw them was always a bastard mix of lust and regret.
If Nagase had had little choice but to become an exhibitionist, Tatsuya had had almost no choice but to keep quiet about all the things that bothered him. Would it do Nagase any good for Tatsuya to complain that he was too young (would always be too young) to have so many scars? Would it help Mabo (or Taichi and Leader, for that matter) for Tatsuya to bitch about how life had screwed them over? They’d all made the best choices they could, and all of them, Mabo included (when he wanted to, at least) dealt with what the agency threw at them with the best grace they could, even if that grace happened to be having sex in public places.
But that was all good intentions, and not even the best of them could keep Tatsuya’s mouth closed all the time. Not that time, anyway, though it was nothing he’d consciously thought to say (maybe because the sex had left him vulnerable, maybe because he’d noticed that the bandages already needed changing, hell, who knew, maybe it was just a dog thing). But not even the fact that they really, really needed to get out of there stopped him from saying, “I hate your scars. I hate it when any of you guys get hurt or in trouble, but I really hate your scars ‘cause they’re a sign that, no matter how much I might want to protect you, I can’t, and I hate how useless that makes me feel almost as much as I hate that you get hurt.”
Nagase, being Nagase, didn’t get huffy and shout that he didn’t need to be protected, or spout some pointless garbage about Tatsuya being anything but useless, figuring that Tatsuya already knew all that, that he was just letting off steam. Instead he shrugged, threw Tatsuya’s clothes at him (deliberately aiming for his face) and started getting dressed.
Oddly (for him), though, Nagase did keep the conversation going, muffled as it was behind the ‘backup’ tshirt he’d brought that didn’t want to quite go over his head. “I certainly wouldn’t mind if the agency could come up with someone else that actually had some good offensive power. I mean there’s what I can do against the dead and the sort of living, and then there’s your Cujo act when you really get going, plus Taichi’s Muscle Man schtick, but… yeah, still doesn’t spell out the Avengers, I’m guessing.
“Okura’s ability to eat a whole cow, literally, isn’t going to scare anyone but cows… well, unless he switches to people, but he gets squeamish just trying to throw a punch, so I don’t think so. And then Aiba’s ability to glow really bright is a great diversion for takedowns, but the worst it could do to someone directly is to blind them. Last month, when Higashi was teaching me the ‘proper way to drink’…” he paused at that, shaking his head, digressing with, “What his hangup is with drinking out of glasses instead of the beer bottle is, I don’t know, but he got pretty loaded trying to get me to see the light.”
Nagase was still laughing about it as Tatsuya finally found the shoe that he’d been missing (oddly, it was always the shoes that were the problem when he shifted; apparently the cocker spaniel was too intent on getting free of the hindrance to care where they wound up), grabbing up the backpack and checking for the guard even as he kept talking. “But, anyway, while he was all happy and floaty and being completely un-Higashi-like, he came out with this theory that there’s actually another secret government agency that’s already got all the good talents hidden away and that’s why all we get are weird talents like, well, Leader’s.”
Tatsuya got the wayward shoe tied and slipped out after Nagase, his funk disappearing under the brightness of Nagase’s chatter (and the thought of Higashi being un-Higashi-like). He should probably tell the kid to keep quiet while they worked their way out, much in the same way he should tell him no when he suggested they have sex at not so good times, but it didn’t really matter what he should do. All that mattered was there was one less evil thing in the world (as much as it sucked that there was one less potentially okay human in the world, too) and that Nagase would have only a tiny scar from that last hit. All that mattered was they were doing the best they could with what they had, and that all of them (even Mabo, with his now ever-present gloves and the smile that got a little manic sometimes) were mostly safe and okay.
All that mattered was Nagase was smiling back at him as they made their way home together.
/story
Title: Either You Swim, Either You Fade
Category: drama, paranormal, timestamp for Heirs of a Cold War, with a sprinkle of smut
Pairing: Gussan/Nagase
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: none
Summary: It’s not like I can put out a Do Not Disturb, Ghosts Especially! sign, and it's not like I get huge amounts of non-ghost time. So it was either learn to not mind being watched or do without sex altogether, and I’m really thinking that if I’d had to give up one more thing… just one more basic thing that everyone else gets to have without even thinking about it…
Notes: Two fics in one month, yays me. ;) Okay, it's a timestamp, so maybe not as good as something new, but it's over the 2K word count, so not just a throwaway fic, either. As some people might guess, I gave Nagase an ability that I blatantly stole from the kdrama Cheo Yong (which was much of the yummy), though I did handle it in a slightly different way, so it's not a 100% ripoff... just 98%, instead. *koff*
Oh, and the title's from Bush (from Float: it's a beautiful world, everyone's insane, either you swim, either you fade), like that's a surprise at this point)!
Read here, or read on AO3, your choice.
~*~
Tatsuya would have grimaced at the pain that being slammed into the office’s glass wall made, but a cocker spaniel's face really wasn't geared to it. He did whimper a little (and damned once again how dog-like he became when he was, well, a dog), which he instantly regretted since it distracted Nagase at a bad time.
The blade didn't cut too deeply, just scoring the kid on across his left arm, and (thankfully for Tatsuya's sense of guilt) the bastard wielding it had cause to regret what he'd done right away, too, because Nagase, grinning like mad (something his face was well geared to), swiped at the blood with his right hand before driving it right into the guy's face. The punch, like most of the ones the kid had landed so far, barely registered, the possession making the poor tool being possessed far stronger and stoic than you'd expect a chartered accountant to be, but the blood... that made the guy scream.
Tatsuya had heard that scream before (and considering it was Nagase’s blood that caused it, far too often for his comfort), but he never got used to it. It was the sound of someone who could see hell right in front of them. Their used-to-be chartered accountant tried to fight it off, tried to escape it, tried to take Nagase with him, but he could only get in one last strike before he burned away, ash and sulfur showering the two left standing.
Usually Tatsuya hated when any of the ash got on him (it gave him the heebie jeebies if he was being honest), but that time, with Nagase now clutching at the knife sticking out of his shoulder, his grin replaced by what could definitely be called a grimace, Tatsuya ignored it, shifting back to human (if an ashy one) just in time to keep the kid from dropping right in a pile of the stuff.
Nagase kept wriggling, trying to stand back up on his own, but, even with the possibility of a security guard showing up at any time, Tatsuya wasn’t having any of it until he could see how serious the wound was. From the way the kid went from trying to get up to trying to grind up against him, Tatsuya guessed it wasn’t too serious, but then he wasn’t quite sure that Nagase wouldn’t try for some action even in his grave, so it wasn’t a guarantee.
It turned out it really wasn’t too serious (though worse than Tatsuya was ever going to be comfortable with), and Tatsuya managed to get the blade out and the wound wrapped in the bandaging he always insisted Nagase carry on him (since it wasn’t like Tatsuya was likely to have pockets when things got rough).
That lack of pockets became really noticeable at about that time, what with Tatsuya not having any necessary doctoring to distract him from the fact that Nagase was sitting (and still occasionally grinding) right on his very naked dick.
True to form, Nagase neither ignored Tatsuya’s inappropriate reaction to him (especially inappropriate considering their situation: hurt (Nagase), naked (Tatsuya), in an office building that was closed for the night but with a security guard that made regular rounds (both of them)), nor missed an opportunity to be completely cheesy, waggling his eyebrows as he asked, “Are you happy to see me or is that just a dick in your pocket? Or more like my pocket, considering you don’t have any at the moment, and said dick certainly seems interested in getting in my pants.”
It wasn’t like Tatsuya hadn’t seen it coming, considering that Nagase was often horny after a job (exorcism, taking down someone who was possessed, doing the grocery shopping for the week, etc etc), partly because at nineteen he was pretty much a walking hard-on, and partly because he needed something to chase away the dark places (something that Tatsuya certainly understood, since it was one of the reasons he always gave in). But Tatsuya just had to shake his head about the kid forever trying it on in public or at least semi-public places, especially if it was someplace they weren’t even supposed to be. “What is it with you and being an exhibitionist?”
Nagase ignored the question for the moment, more intent on getting rid of his own pockets as well as what was left of his shirt. He continued to ignore it while he pushed Tatsuya back until he was sitting on what had been the accountant’s desk, shoving files, books, and a laptop off the desk to get them more room before pushing Tatsuya back even further, his back against the wall and Nagase straddled over him (straddled over the dick that definitely had exhibitionist tendencies itself, hard and ready regardless of what Tatsuya thought of the whole thing). He ignored the question right up until he didn’t, answering with none of his usual ‘take nothing seriously’ casualness. “It’s not like I can put out a Do Not Disturb, Ghosts Especially! sign, and it's not like I get huge amounts of non-ghost time. So it was either learn to not mind being watched or do without sex altogether, and I’m really thinking that if I’d had to give up one more thing… just one more basic thing that everyone else gets to have without even thinking about it…”
He paused, eyes dark and hooded in the low light of the supposed-to-be-empty office, before he shook himself, his undeterred dick pressing against Tatsuya’s, making them both shake a little more even as he continued, “I had no choice, or no choice but the one that Mabo’s fighting to this day. Isn’t slut better than crazy?”
And what could Tatsuya say to that? Stuck in the Institute at the ripe old age of ten because those around him couldn’t see what he could and chose to call him crazy instead of gifted (or cursed, depending on your point of view), only to then get conscripted at the age of twelve by a secret government agency because of said gift… that would pretty much be enough to drive most people a little bonkers. Add in the fact that at thirteen they’d found out (by horrible, horrible accident) that some ghosts could possess people, literally take over their lives, not just their bodies, and, even though he kept trying to find a way to undo the possession, so far the only way Nagase had found to end it was to burn both ghost and victim away with his own blood (another piece of information found out in the horrible, horrible accident)… it was a wonder that the kid didn’t spend all of his time hiding under a bed.
So Tatsuya didn’t say anything, letting his hands and lips map the face that made heads turn as they walked down the street, let them trace over the long neck that drove him to distraction and down the chest that was too skinny even with as much as Leader nagged the brat to eat. He pulled Nagase up on his knees, those long thighs making the height just right for him to lean back and let Nagase fuck into his mouth, the kid half-crazy with need, but holding so tightly to his control (fingers scrabbling against the wall), trying not to hurt anyone he didn’t have to. It could almost make Tatsuya cry, that control, but he was feeling too good, Nagase filling his mouth and throat until he almost couldn’t breathe, didn’t even feel like he needed to, just as long as he could keep the kid there, so alive (and safe) in that moment that it was better than air.
When Nagase came, Tatsuya swallowed some of it (a talisman of sorts, though he’d never admit it), but he let the rest of it spill out down his chin and chest, running his fingers through it even as Nagase sank back down, eager to push himself onto Tatsuya’s dick even without any prep, but holding still under his hands, waiting as impatient fingers worked him open. Waiting but shaking with need (his own, Tatsuya’s) as Tatsuya pulled him down, pushed up, both of them crying out at the still too tight fit, at the burn that was part pleasure, part reminder, and neither of them caring if someone caught them at it.
Even with the not caring, Tatsuya knew they should hurry (knew it was stupid to have given in again); the agency wasn’t going to be happy about having to cover up another ‘suspects sought after <'insert name here'> went missing and the suspects fled the scene’. But as horny as Nagase (and Tatsuya, for that matter) was, these moments were still too precious to rush, the feel of one of the people he loved most under his hands and all that hot heat around his dick until he could have died from it and not cared. Tatsuya couldn’t help but savor it. Couldn’t help but draw it out until Nagase shuddered around him, over him, the feel of him coming again too much to resist until Tatsuya had to come as well.
Tatsuya let seniority work for him, making Nagase get up for the towel they always kept in their work backpack (Tatsuya had been a good scout at one time and, obviously, it was going to be needed more often than it should be). It gave him a moment to recover and also let him appreciate the view of a naked Nagase. All those people who turned and stared knew what they were doing; he was a pretty sight, even with all the scars littered across his body. The feeling that tugged at Tatsuya’s heart when he saw them was always a bastard mix of lust and regret.
If Nagase had had little choice but to become an exhibitionist, Tatsuya had had almost no choice but to keep quiet about all the things that bothered him. Would it do Nagase any good for Tatsuya to complain that he was too young (would always be too young) to have so many scars? Would it help Mabo (or Taichi and Leader, for that matter) for Tatsuya to bitch about how life had screwed them over? They’d all made the best choices they could, and all of them, Mabo included (when he wanted to, at least) dealt with what the agency threw at them with the best grace they could, even if that grace happened to be having sex in public places.
But that was all good intentions, and not even the best of them could keep Tatsuya’s mouth closed all the time. Not that time, anyway, though it was nothing he’d consciously thought to say (maybe because the sex had left him vulnerable, maybe because he’d noticed that the bandages already needed changing, hell, who knew, maybe it was just a dog thing). But not even the fact that they really, really needed to get out of there stopped him from saying, “I hate your scars. I hate it when any of you guys get hurt or in trouble, but I really hate your scars ‘cause they’re a sign that, no matter how much I might want to protect you, I can’t, and I hate how useless that makes me feel almost as much as I hate that you get hurt.”
Nagase, being Nagase, didn’t get huffy and shout that he didn’t need to be protected, or spout some pointless garbage about Tatsuya being anything but useless, figuring that Tatsuya already knew all that, that he was just letting off steam. Instead he shrugged, threw Tatsuya’s clothes at him (deliberately aiming for his face) and started getting dressed.
Oddly (for him), though, Nagase did keep the conversation going, muffled as it was behind the ‘backup’ tshirt he’d brought that didn’t want to quite go over his head. “I certainly wouldn’t mind if the agency could come up with someone else that actually had some good offensive power. I mean there’s what I can do against the dead and the sort of living, and then there’s your Cujo act when you really get going, plus Taichi’s Muscle Man schtick, but… yeah, still doesn’t spell out the Avengers, I’m guessing.
“Okura’s ability to eat a whole cow, literally, isn’t going to scare anyone but cows… well, unless he switches to people, but he gets squeamish just trying to throw a punch, so I don’t think so. And then Aiba’s ability to glow really bright is a great diversion for takedowns, but the worst it could do to someone directly is to blind them. Last month, when Higashi was teaching me the ‘proper way to drink’…” he paused at that, shaking his head, digressing with, “What his hangup is with drinking out of glasses instead of the beer bottle is, I don’t know, but he got pretty loaded trying to get me to see the light.”
Nagase was still laughing about it as Tatsuya finally found the shoe that he’d been missing (oddly, it was always the shoes that were the problem when he shifted; apparently the cocker spaniel was too intent on getting free of the hindrance to care where they wound up), grabbing up the backpack and checking for the guard even as he kept talking. “But, anyway, while he was all happy and floaty and being completely un-Higashi-like, he came out with this theory that there’s actually another secret government agency that’s already got all the good talents hidden away and that’s why all we get are weird talents like, well, Leader’s.”
Tatsuya got the wayward shoe tied and slipped out after Nagase, his funk disappearing under the brightness of Nagase’s chatter (and the thought of Higashi being un-Higashi-like). He should probably tell the kid to keep quiet while they worked their way out, much in the same way he should tell him no when he suggested they have sex at not so good times, but it didn’t really matter what he should do. All that mattered was there was one less evil thing in the world (as much as it sucked that there was one less potentially okay human in the world, too) and that Nagase would have only a tiny scar from that last hit. All that mattered was they were doing the best they could with what they had, and that all of them (even Mabo, with his now ever-present gloves and the smile that got a little manic sometimes) were mostly safe and okay.
All that mattered was Nagase was smiling back at him as they made their way home together.
/story