[JE] [JEF #4] Past Flaws 6/12
Title: JE Fleet IV: Past Flaws 6/12
Series: JE Fleet
Fandom: KAT-TUN
Pairing: Akame
Rating: R (m/m activity)
Genre: AU, crack, sci-fi
Word count: 54,000
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the guys or random song lyrics that appear in this fic. Credit for naming the Yunaka goes to maya_morning.
Summary: When Akanishi Jin runs away from Earth, falling in with thieves along the way, the last thing he expects is to attract the attention of rookie Lunar/InterPlanetary Security officer, Kamenashi Kazuya.
Chapter 6
Kame knew he shouldn't have accepted a congratulatory drink from the rest of his unit. Every alarm bell in his body, of which there were many, rang loud and clear to warn him that partaking of any substance that had ever existed in the general vicinity of Ishida Makoto was a really bad idea. Fatal, even.
But it had felt so good, hearing them cheer him on.
Praise from his superiors, for all that it meant a lot to Kame, was far easier to earn than praise from his peers. Just once, to have the rest of the unit rally round him and toast him for his part in apprehending the Yunaka...that one time made up for so many months of being ignored, or taunted, or otherwise mistreated.
At least, Kame liked to pretend it did, though he knew better than to hope that things had changed. They were indulging him for this one night, caught up in the excitement of catching three jewellery thieves, and they'd toss him away again in the morning.
But for one night...he was part of the team. So he took the beer Ishida opened for him, knocked back half of it in the first swallow, and let himself drown in a tide of approval. He could worry about it in the morning.
If any of them ever got to see morning, anyway. It had been nearly the end of Kame's shift, a day spent out on patrol in orbit over Lunacy and watching Ishida's every move, when he'd spotted a familiar craft during a visual sweep of the area. With a hull painted like that, it was hard to miss the Yunaka. Kame had set aside both his regular duty and his Ishida-watchdogging to elbow his way in front of Carl and change course before the burly pilot had even realised his hands were no longer touching the controls.
He'd surprised himself by yelling back at Ishida's demands to know what was going on, insisting that he was going after the Yunaka. As far as everyone else was concerned, the ship was wanted for minor offenses only. Probable accidental weapons discharge, an undeclared crew member, skipping out on a check. Nothing really worth wasting the last ten minutes of their shift on, anyway, not when they could be slowly making their way back towards Lunacy and the bright lights of home.
Kame didn't care about the time, not once he'd double-checked the ship's registration. He hadn't forgotten who he'd been talking to during the holoship fiasco, who'd gotten him into trouble for succumbing to Akanishi's voice and singing a single line, who'd earned him the blame for the whole mess. No matter how beautifully Akanishi sang, it wasn't enough to get him off the hook with Kame, and if he had to get the man to stand up in court and swear that Kame had in no way been responsible for the fight breaking out, he'd do it.
Because he knew it had to have been the crew of the Yunaka. Oh, certainly, they hadn't fired any shots after that first one, and they couldn't have generated the hologram, but the timing was far too convenient for it to have been anyone else. Kame didn't appreciate having accusations of incompetence levelled at him...even if he *had* allowed himself to be (temporarily) distracted by the performance. A deliberate distraction, he was certain, intended to keep him from noticing their little ploy.
Kame didn't mind playing the fool for a good cause...but he wasn't to be made a fool of, and that meant he wanted the Yunaka.
They'd had to chase them halfway to Mars, with Kame having to justify himself at top volume the entire time, but they'd caught them in the end, and when they'd boarded and found a fortune in jewellery in the cargo hold, it had all been worth it. Justified, at last.
Ishida, in particular, had been thrilled, though he'd been infuriated right up until he'd seen the jewels. "All right, rookie, I admit - you were onto something good. And never let it be said that I can't own up when I'm wrong. Isn't that right, guys?"
This had been met by a chorus of just how magnanimous and unbelievably awesome Ishida was, which Kame didn't believe for a second, but when the jerk threw an arm round his shoulders and said he'd be retracting every complaint he'd ever made about Kame - all fifty-two of them - it was, whether true or not, a measure of comfort.
Which is why, instead of following procedure and taking both the Yunaka and its former occupants down to Lunacy and processing them at the station, Kame's high-spirited unit had opted to go directly to the holding cells at Kurogin orbital prison. It was closer, and even though they were all technically off the clock now, no one wanted to miss the unloading of the stolen goods. Everyone was curious about the total value, and Kame had no doubt that a few of them were hoping to make off with a few trinkets as souvenirs before the cataloguing was complete. He'd gotten the impression, in his brief time with Ishida's unit, that such things were commonplace for them, but nothing had happened since he'd been there and he had no proof.
Besides, everyone except Kame wanted to make Ishida happy, and he'd been in a terrible mood since questioning Ueda last night. The black eye probably hadn't helped matters.
"Have another drink," Carl said, offering Kame a second can. They were all sitting in Kurogin's break room, waiting for Tanaka Koki, Nakamaru Yuichi, and Akanishi Jin to be processed, and the alcohol was flowing freely.
Kame waved his hand. "No thanks. Someone's got to stay sober enough to fly us home." And from the looks of things, he was going to be the only real candidate.
"Oh, didn't anyone tell you? Gustav won't be drinking tonight - not allowed to, with his meds - so he'll be taking the helm on the way home. Besides, I'm not drinking *much*, and you know I can fly blind drunk with both hands tied behind my back if I have to. Matter of fact, that's a funny story. Let me tell you 'bout the time I-"
"Thanks for the drink." Kame grabbed the can from Carl's hand and found himself a chair at the table nearest the door. He had no intention of drinking it, though. He wanted his wits about him.
To watch Ishida. Not that there was any great pleasure to be derived from doing so, but the man's sudden about-face was undeniably suspicious. The moment he'd emerged from the Yunaka's cargo hold...that was it. He'd been fuming right up until he went to have a look for himself; two minutes later, he was all smiles and sunshine.
"He's probably going to take all the credit," Kame muttered to himself, and frowned at the way his words were slurring. He couldn't be drunk, could he? He hadn't even finished his first beer, and he normally held his alcohol better than that.
"Here." Ishida popped up beside him with a disposable cup. "You look like you could use this instead." When Kame looked dubiously at the steaming coffee, wary of a trick, he added, "Just a coffee, rookie. Got it out of the machine right now. You don't want it, I'll drink it myself. See?" He took a sip.
Kame smiled awkwardly. "I'll take it, then. Thanks." Another one to add to his drink collection.
Ishida set it down between Kame's two cans of beer, flashed him the sort of grin that generally set the hearts of his groupies aflame, and went to talk to Carl. Kame blew on the hot liquid till it cooled enough to drink and took a few tentative sips. Not bad, for prison coffee.
It didn't do anything to sober him up, though. In fact, Kame reflected hazily as he drained the cup to the dregs, he actually felt *worse* now. There was a tightness in his chest - not painful, yet, but uncomfortable - and his vision was beginning to blur around the edges. Thinking about Ishida, and what he might be planning, seemed like a lot of work. Too much work. Kame couldn't focus on finding hidden meanings, couldn't concentrate on unravelling layers within layers, fathoming lies and bluffs and secrets he didn't want to guess at. He wasn't a detective, damnit. He was just a security officer, following orders, and maybe sometimes he got lucky, put things together at the right time in the right place.
And why shouldn't he? He was good at his job, right? The captain wanted him to take the sergeant's exam already and he knew damned well he was better than everyone else in his unit. Worked much harder, conducted himself more like a LIPS officer should.
Not like all the layabouts he worked with, no sir. Kame's lip curled in a sneer as he surveyed the room; there were three felons locked up only a few doors down and nobody was making any move to question them. Why, they could be part of a much larger organisation, whose members were just waiting for Kame to break down their doors and slap the cuffs on them! He couldn't just sit around and wait...no, not like Carl, who had moved onto a story about how he'd once flown a fighter through an asteroid field while tranked on painkillers, or Aya, who was so relaxed that she was actually reapplying her eyeliner.
"You're too lax," Kame complained.
Aya grinned. "Yeah, but did you see those three we just brought in? Sure, they're thieves...but they're pretty hot. I wouldn't mind signing up to help that Akanishi guy with his rehabilitation, me being a model of good influence and all."
"Impossible." Kame waved a can at her and wondered when he'd finished it. "He wouldn't be interested in you at all. And by the time I'm done with him, he's not going to be interested in *anything* for a long time to come."
"Oh?" Aya put the finishing touches on her left eye and aimed the black kohl pencil at Kame. "Kamenashi's going to question him?"
"Yes, he is." Kame had just decided this. "And get him to sign - in blood - that it's all his fault."
"What is?"
Kame couldn't remember. "Everything."
Aya giggled. "Ooh, sounds serious. You must have a real grudge against this guy, huh?"
"I..." Kame struggled to find the words. They were there, dancing a teasing little number at the very edge of his brain, but they were coy, refusing to let him near. "I don't..."
She wasn't listening anyway. "Then you need to make an impression. He got a bit roughed up on the way in, so it shouldn't be too hard. We just need to make you look intimidating. Stay still a sec."
Before Kame could pull his sluggish self together for a protest, Aya's hands were hovering over his face, carefully ringing his eyes with solid black. He froze, hoping to avoid receiving a pencil in the eye, and ended up having a faint smear of blue eyeshadow across his lids. He backed away before Aya could fish out a lipstick; when she held up her pocket mirror, Kame had to admit that he didn't look too bad. The LIPS uniform was mostly black; Kame, like the others, wore the jacket open to reveal the black and white shirt underneath and rolled the sleeves up when he didn't need to be formal. It was an effective combination.
"Interesting look you got going there, rookie."
Kame whirled round to find Ishida and Carl leaning on the wall behind him, giving each other amused grins.
"You want to question Akanishi, huh?" Ishida continued. "What do you think, Carl? Should we let the baby bird spread his wings?"
Carl was nearly killing himself trying to hold back his laughter. "Sure, why not? Gustav says he's ready for visitors."
"Then," Ishida put a hand on Kame's shoulder, "I think it's time for you to demonstrate your amazing interrogation techniques...like you used on that pilot the other day. Let's go, Kamenashi. We're right behind you."
Ishida didn't let go of Kame until they arrived at Interrogation Room #3; Kame was actually grateful for this since he was having trouble persuading his legs to walk in the right direction. His steps seemed to go everywhere but where he wanted them.
"We'll be right next door, watching over you like guardian angels," Ishida promised, pointing at the room one along. Kame knew there was a one-way mirror - he was going to have an audience. Not an ideal situation, but he didn't have a choice, and besides, here was his chance to show the rest of his unit just what a take-charge kind of guy he really was.
He nodded at Ishida, drew himself up to his full height - not that this was saying much - and tottered unsteadily into the room. The door slid shut behind him, the auto-lock activating with an ominous 'click' in the silence. Through heavy-lidded eyes, Kame got his first proper look at Akanishi Jin.
Dark brown hair, so tidy over the comm, now mussed and damp with sweat. Light skin with an unhealthy green tinge, caused, no doubt, by the same rough treatment that had garnered him the cut on his cheek and the red patch on his jaw. There were rips in his dark grey shirt where someone's fingers had made a fist, tearing the cloth with sharp nails, and the sleeves of his black jacket were pushed up to his elbows to let the ropes cut directly into his skin where he was tied to the arms of the chair. His boots were lined up neatly against the far wall, leaving his sock-clad feet dangling just above the floor where the chair, designed to make the occupant uncomfortable, was slightly too high to allow him to reach it. Though his legs were unbound, there was a great gash in his black pants, revealing a line of bloodied flesh along his right thigh.
Kame took a deep breath; Akanishi's eyes were closed and he didn't appear to have noticed that he was no longer alone in the room. Fine, Kame would have to startle him. He released the breath silently and stepped forward, his footfalls deliberately heavy.
"Akanishi?" Somehow his statement twisted in his throat, coming out as a question instead.
Akanishi's eyes snapped open, suddenly alert; his mouth fell open with considerably less elegance. "K-Kamenashi?" he stuttered.
-----
Jin vowed never to trust to his luck again, because he obviously had a lot and it was all bad. It was entirely his fault they were there. His fault that the Yunaka had been dragged in by that same damned LIPS cruiser, his fault that they'd been boarded and arrested. His fault for stowing away in the first place, for running away from home - again - and making his problems someone else's.
They'd been handcuffed and herded, he, Koki and Nakamaru, onto the Murasaki, and one of the LIPS officers - Ishida, he thought from the voice - had gone into the Yunaka's cargo hold. He'd gone in with a scowl but emerged with a smile. Then he'd taken a fistful of Jin's shirt and hauled him into a deserted corridor, where he'd proceeded to blast him with questions about some diamond that Jin didn't know anything about. When Jin tried to explain that he hadn't been in on the jewellery robberies, Ishida had shoved him into a bulkhead, where the sharp edge had made a nice slice in his thigh. Ishida didn't care, so long as Jin wasn't about to bleed to death in the next ten seconds, and Jin was grateful when a female officer came out and said they'd docked at Kurogin orbital prison.
The LIPS personnel had taken a DNA swab, of course - just to make sure he really was who he said he was - and Jin's spotless record had come up. He wasn't innocent, by any means, but he certainly wasn't guilty of robbing jewellery stores. That had been Koki and Nakamaru.
But damned if Jin was going to be the one to admit to it.
"Kamenashi?" Jin repeated. After processing he'd been thrown in a holding cell by himself, then dragged out five minutes later by some giggling lunatic only to be tied to an old mahogany chair in an interrogation room. It wasn't the warmest welcome he'd ever had, and now he was being confronted by the guy who'd turned a tractor beam on him. And he was looking kind of...out of it. "Uh...Officer Kamenashi? Are you...?"
"I'll ask the questions," Kamenashi snapped. He sauntered towards Jin, his movements those of a man trying desperately to prove he was stone-cold sober, and Jin had to look twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Kamenashi hadn't been wearing make-up earlier, had he?
Not that it didn't suit him, those smudged black and blue eyes; a louche, wasted look, accentuated by the rumpled jacket and rolled-up sleeves.
"You always go to work in eyeliner?" Jin blurted out.
The LIPS officer gave him a crooked smile. "I'm off the clock, and this," he waved his hand broadly round the room, almost overbalancing in the process, "is off the record. So we'll talk for as long as I want, about whatever I want, and if you give me the right answers I might choose to believe that lily-white record of yours and let you go."
Jin didn't know whether to believe him or not. There was definitely something weird about Kamenashi. Okay, so he'd only seen the guy for the grand total of a couple of minutes over the comm, and heard him once before that, but the person he'd talked to hadn't overenunciated his words to keep from slurring. Could Kamenashi be drunk?
-----
Though he couldn't possibly have known this, Kame was wondering the same thing. It was the only explanation he could come up with for the way he felt...not that thinking was such an easy process right now. He was too hot; his brain was overheating.
He shook his head to try to clear it, and suddenly there were two Akanishis looking up at him, wide-eyed and confused. The one on the left was marginally better-looking, Kame decided. He blinked and the two figures merged.
Time to get down to business...before he fell down. "Is it just the three of you in the gang or are there others?" he asked.
"We're not in a gang. We're performers! You heard us yourself - you even joined in."
Kame shuddered at the laughter he knew would be coming from behind the mirror. "And I suppose all that jewellery back there was part of your stage costumes?"
"I don't have anything to do with that!" Akanishi protested, wincing when he tried to raise his hands for emphasis. "You don't have to tie me up, you know. I'm not dangerous!"
"Not dangerous? You know the problems you caused me?"
Kame continued his approach, sweat dampening his closed fists, a sickening shakiness in his stride. The table was behind him; there was nothing to use for balance now, not until he reached Akanishi's chair and set one hand down on the reassuring curve of its high back. The dark red wood was smooth under his touch, providing firm support for his fingers that passed to the rest of his body; it was calming, like pressing against a column of cool white marble.
"What...?" Akanishi twisted round, trying to follow Kame's face, causing the tips of his messy brown curls to skim lightly over Kame's skin. The soft hair, the hard wood...
He ignored Akanishi's confusion, instead following the line of the furniture down the back and along the arms with his eyes, ending with Akanishi's bound wrists. They were red where he'd rubbed against the restraints, but not yet bleeding. Not like the wound on his thigh.
Kame frowned. Though Akanishi's pants were black, and therefore not the easiest to check for bloodstains, they looked suspiciously damp around the rent. He reached down with his free hand, carefully pushing the fabric aside to inspect the injury. The wound was still bleeding; it didn't appear life-threatening but it must have been painful, and Kame didn't want to think about what kind of infections one could pick up in a prison.
He'd be remiss in his duties if he didn't at least stop the bleeding. Akanishi was in no position to help himself, after all. Kame staggered over to the locker in the corner to find the emergency first aid kit, made it all the way back to the chair without crashing face-first to the floor and considered this to be an impressive achievement.
He had to get down on the floor anyway to administer first aid, so he knelt slowly, deliberately, making sure everyone watching knew he'd done so under his own power.
"What are you doing?" Akanishi asked, sounding suspicious. "Is this some sort of experimental interrogation technique?"
"Just shut up and take your pants off."
"Um..."
"Oh. Right." Kame sighed and reached for the other man's belt, fumbling slightly with the heavy buckle. It wasn't that his fingers were numb - far from it. They felt hypersensitive, every touch magnified, sensation spreading from fingertip to palm and interfering with his nerves. It made him clumsy, made him careless. He ripped Akanishi's belt away, tossing it behind him, then set to work on the pants.
Easier said than done. Akanishi couldn't reach the floor, meaning he couldn't lift himself up, and the chair arms, though sturdy, were too slender for him to try with those. Kame was forced to work the torn black pants down over Akanishi's hips and underneath him, inch by slow inch, hands caught between the warmed wood and scorching flesh. He was close enough to hear Akanishi's breath quicken, becoming short gasps, and to watch fine tremors begin in his legs.
"Hold still," Kame mumbled, as though Akanishi had a choice in the matter. "I can't fix you up through your clothes, that's all."
"I know that!"
Kame rooted around in the first aid kit till he found what he was looking for: an all-in-one antiseptic, bandage and sim-skin package. He wiped the area clean first so he could see the actual cut, then squeezed the pack over it, wringing out every last drop of liquid until the mixture sealed the wound, forming a flesh-coloured bandage in the gash. The process was slow; Kame's eyes and left hand remained fixed on Akanishi's thigh but his right hand rested on the seat, in the gap between Akanishi's spread legs.
It was so beautiful, Kame thought, sneaking a peak at it. The dark red grains lay neat and smooth, faintly warm to the touch where Akanishi's weight had rested; colour so rich and full that Kame could lose himself in it. He stroked the wood once, experimentally, loving the feel of it under his fingers, and ran his thumb along the curve of the seat until he encountered an obstacle: Akanishi's bare leg.
That, too, felt nice.
Akanishi flinched, and Kame looked up to see him biting down on his lip. "You okay?" he asked, not that he really cared. "The bandage should stop stinging soon."
"Forget the bandage!" Akanishi lowered his voice, aiming it down to where Kame's head was still poised between his legs. "What the hell are you doing? Trying to molest me or something? Is that what you guys do, you kidnap innocent people and drag them back here for a little fun before you make them disappear for good?"
Kame glared at him. "You think I can't get any without resorting to kidnapping, Akanishi?"
"I didn't say that, did- oh." If Akanishi's voice had been uncertain before, it was well and truly incredulous now that he'd seen Kame caressing the furniture. "You're...you're groping a chair. I don't believe this."
"I am *not* groping a chair. I am merely appreciating the skill of its maker."
But Kame's actions belied his words. He ran his fingers along the rim of the seat, skimming lightly over Akanishi's leg and continuing round the side, brushing up against one trembling hip in the process. Since he couldn't reach all the way round, he reversed his path, lingering when he found a small nick in the wood. He pressed it with his nail, wondering if some past felon had scored it to mark time. It didn't spoil the chair's beauty, this tiny imperfection, simply served to accentuate the graceful curves.
"You're seriously weird."
"And you're shivering," Kame said absently.
Akanishi snorted. "The vents are going full blast and I'm sitting here nearly naked from the waist down. That's not thermal underwear, you know - of course I'm shivering!"
"It's too much trouble to get your pants back on, and besides, they're already ruined. You'll get a change later."
Kame's words were still slurred, and he didn't like it. The longer he stayed there, the more tired he felt, dizziness making his head spin a spiral of stars. Akanishi had the nice, sturdy chair to rest on, didn't he? What did Kame have? Didn't *he* deserve to rest too? He'd brought in three jewellery thieves tonight, and that had to count for something.
Akanishi laughed nervously. "So there is going to be a 'later', then? You're not going to kill me?"
"How can I make your life a misery if you're dead?" Kame mumbled as he laid his head down on Akanishi's uninjured thigh, causing the other man to squawk loudly.
Kame's resting place was warm, despite Akanishi's claims of being cold, and Kame switched hands so that his right gripped the chair where seat met back, arm pressed against bare skin, and the left splayed flat on the seat, forcing Akanishi's legs even further apart. It wasn't the most comfortable position in the world, but to Kame it was blessed relief.
-----
Jin was pretty sure, by this point, that Kamenashi was on something. On a lot of somethings, probably, though he couldn't think of anything offhand that produced the desire to molest furniture. He couldn't imagine there would be much of a market for that.
He'd been surprised when the LIPS officer treated his injury, and even more so when he'd lain his head on Jin's thigh, but the thing that really knocked him back was when Kamenashi began stroking the seat in earnest, smiling weirdly to himself and completely ignoring the fact that he was driving Jin crazy. Jin's legs were driven further apart - he couldn't kick Kamenashi now if he'd wanted to - and Kamenashi's fingers rushed to reclaim the space, greedy for more.
"Hey," Jin said shakily, "don't treat an injured man like this."
"Not my fault you're injured." Kamenashi's words were muffled - lazy, like he was only bothering to use half his mouth - and Jin could feel them against his thigh, puffs of air ghosting over bare skin. "What'd you do to annoy Ishida? 'Side from existing, of course."
Ah, maybe if Jin could get a conversation going, Kamenashi would start acting sane. Or at least stop tickling Jin's inner thighs as he caressed the chair. "I told him I didn't know anything about any diamond," he murmured, not wanting any possible recording devices to pick it up. He didn't fancy getting kicked around by Ishida again, and from what he'd heard, Kamenashi didn't sound any too fond of the man either.
"Diamond?"
"Yeah. He wanted..." The scrapes on Jin's chest from Ishida's knuckles blazed raw as he struggled to remember. "A flawed diamond. He insisted we had it on board the Yunaka. I said I didn't know what we had back there, and things got ugly."
"Did it have a name?"
The urgency in Kamenashi's voice startled him. "Yeah. Something like...no, that was... Ah, Kizuna. That was it. Was it a family heirloom or something, is that why he's so mad about it?"
He didn't expect Kamenashi to start laughing. He didn't sound happy, though - strained and bitter, more than anything else, rasping and gasping for a long minute. "It's not his, and it's none of your business why he wants it."
"Is it your business?" Jin whispered.
"Yeah." Kamenashi's fingertips trailed along the grain, following a particular stretch of burnt red until they encountered something other than mahogany. By this time, the chair wasn't the only thing hard to the touch. Jin didn't want to admit it, but being touched like that, even if it was by a complete lunatic with a chair fetish, was making him stir.
To be fair, it wasn't as though he was desperate. Just because he and Yamapi hadn't done much of anything in the last couple of years didn't mean Jin had been a stone statue. But those few encounters had been temporary measures of relief at best, nothing lasting, and never with anyone as attractive as Kamenashi, drugged-up and strung-out though he was.
Kamenashi's head slid off Jin's leg till his chin rested on the very edge of the chair; he tilted forwards and for a moment, Jin could see nothing but reddish-brown hair with darker roots, occasional wild spikes at odd angles. Kamenashi's breath wafted gently between Jin's thighs, raising the temperature even further, and Jin held his own breath in response, waiting to see what the LIPS officer would do next.
But when he saw Kamenashi's tongue dart out and lick the chair, he lost it.
"You're a freak!"
"And you're a liar," Kamenashi said casually, as though he hadn't just been witnessed giving some tongue action to a piece of furniture. "They're cataloguing the contents of your cargo hold right now. The Kizuna will turn up sooner or later."
"But I really don't know what's in there!" Jin pleaded. "I didn't have anything to do with the thefts."
"Give me one good reason why I should trust you."
Jin gave up when he felt Kamenashi begin afresh, both hands this time, pushing between his skin and the seat beneath. "Do I look like I could lie to you like this?"
-----
Kame raised his head, took a good look at Akanishi's face, and decided that the other man was probably telling him the truth. He was flushed, sweating just as much as Kame himself; his words were more moaned than spoken. He couldn't have hidden a lie: not in the shivers of his skin, not in the catch of his breath.
"You want me." Kame made it a statement, not a question.
"Yes." Another moan as Kame let his fingers meander closer to full black briefs, keeping himself between Akanishi and the observers behind the mirror.
Not that Kame expected it to do much good - Ishida, Carl and the others had doubtless already split their sides laughing, and Kame would be shown the door the moment he walked out of the interrogation room. Seducing a suspect was a perfectly legitimate tactic, but he no longer believed Akanishi to be guilty of anything other than a little stupidity and a lot of bad luck, some of which had unfortunately made the transfer to Kame during the holoship incident.
Besides, it was hardly "seduction", even if Akanishi didn't have any objections.
Kame couldn't persuade his mind to get back to work. Ishida obviously hadn't found the Kizuna, assuming it really was on the Yunaka, but he must've seen something there to give him the idea. Goods from the same jewellery store, maybe. It would show up during cataloguing, or Ishida would take it before then - whichever it was, Kame had to prevent it. Or better yet, catch Ishida in the act.
But thoughts like these, of the kind that would get him back into the captain's good graces, strained a tired brain that only wanted to rest, and to feel good, and to find strength in the carved mahogany. Kame couldn't move that far, couldn't get up off the floor to drag himself back to the real world. There was only the chair standing firm and supportive under his hand, and Akanishi Jin.
He was still looking up at Akanishi, letting his hands roam without guidance, watching the other man gulp down great lungfuls of air. Confusion, resentment, frustration...and desperate need. All these were free to view on Akanishi's face. It was obvious that he could hide nothing, especially not from someone who happened to be touching him so intimately.
"Don't."
"Huh?"
"Don't," Akanishi repeated. "Don't look at me like that. I don't want to be an evening's fun for some furniture-loving freak. Even a prisoner has rights, Kamenashi, and if you're not going to play fair then get the hell away from me."
Play fair? Kame winced. When did anyone ever play fair with *him*?
"Watch your mouth, or I'll leave you just like this," he promised. "All tied up, unable to find release. I've already got what I want from you."
Namely, that Ishida was sure the Kizuna was on board the Yunaka - not what Kame had gone in there for, but right now, he'd take it. There didn't seem to be much point in yelling at Akanishi about the trouble he'd caused Kame. For one thing, that would require effort, and probably standing up, which was out of the question. For another...well, Kame wasn't the only one in a bad situation.
-----
Jin thought he might spontaneously combust out of sheer frustration if Kamenashi walked away now. The deft, teasing fingers were still paying more attention to the chair than to him, gracing his skin with only the barest of touches, but when he whined helplessly in protest, there was a subtle shift in their movements.
"All right." Kamenashi's tone softened. "I'd hate being teased in your situation, too."
When Kamenashi leant down again, Jin thought at first that he intended to lick the chair, which wasn't nearly so responsive as a warm, breathing human being, aged twenty and frustrated as hell. Instead, he planted a gentle kiss on the inside of Jin's thigh, making him squirm even more. Jin's first impulse was impossible: to return the gesture.
"We've got an audience back there," Kamenashi murmured. "Probably laughing their heads off at us. So don't expect much. Besides, I've had too much to drink."
Trust Jin to get mixed up with a lush who drank on duty. But...Kamenashi had said he was off the clock, hadn't he?
"How much did you have to drink?" Jin whispered back. "Why were you drinking, anyway?"
"We caught the three of you," Kamenashi said. "Ishida decided it was cause for celebration. Brought you out here instead of going down to Lunacy 'cause Ishida's the ranking officer, and most of the prison officials aren't here right now. Good place to unwind and check out your cargo."
When Kamenashi said "check out your cargo", Jin caught the poorly-hidden meaning. He'd met corrupt cops before - had worked with a few, actually - and it was obvious he'd been caught by a LIPS unit who'd skipped out on their ethics training. He didn't know whether that included Kamenashi or not, though.
"How much did you have to drink?" he repeated, more firmly this time.
"Uh...only one beer. I think." Kamenashi shook his head vigorously. "No. One beer, then one coffee. I never started the second can."
Jin hissed. Either Kamenashi was a real lightweight or he'd been given something, probably in the coffee.
"What? You don't believe me? I definitely didn't start the second can. Took me ages to finish the first one."
"Kamenashi, listen to me. Did someone else give you the coffee?"
Kamenashi scowled. "Ishida. He gave it to me."
Probably because he saw you weren't getting plastered fast enough, Jin thought. "You're not drunk, Kamenashi - you're drugged."
When Kamenashi's hands stilled, Jin knew he'd struck a nerve. The muttered obscenities and cursing of Ishida's name going on between his legs was a big giveaway too. He could practically feel the waves of pain surging over him, a stormy black sea full of rage and resentment, and fierce enough that Jin thought he might drown in it. It scared him a little that he almost wouldn't have minded.
-----
Ishida.
Damn it. Kame had thought the man's one-eighty turn was suspicious, and it should have been obvious. Would have been obvious, if only he hadn't been too caught up in the warmth of one night's acceptance, and tired from not enough sleep, and slightly buzzed from the first beer, and...
...no. He couldn't blame any of that. It was his own fault, plain and simple. He should've been more alert. Should've trusted his instincts and *not*, under any circumstances, accepted anything from a man he knew hated his guts.
Well, the feeling was mutual.
Kame let his anger grow, starting with the small core of bitterness that had appeared the second he'd met Ishida Makoto; he felt the cleansing burn through his synapses, clearing his fogged mind. Not enough to give him total clarity - whatever drug he'd been given had too strong a hold on him for that - but it was more than sufficient for him to be stung with humiliation that Ishida had deliberately set him up for his own amusement - for everyone's amusement - turning him loose on a prisoner he couldn't care less about.
There was no way to salvage the situation. Whatever happened, Kame was leaving the unit. Either he quit, or Ishida would keep up with the complaints until he was thrown out in disgrace. A transfer didn't hold much more appeal; Kame didn't think he could stand to remain with LIPS in any capacity. All his hard work, for nothing...but at least he could start again, and for the right reasons.
"Um...Kamenashi?" Akanishi ventured. "If you're about to go on a killing spree, could you move away from me first? This is a little bit..."
"It's all right. I'm not angry at *you*." Kame appreciated that growling at Akanishi wasn't going to convince him of that, but it was true. He didn't move from position, conscious that Ishida could still be watching him, not wanting to give him any reason - other than the usual - to target Kame. Best just to continue, stumble drunkenly out the door, and claim he needed to lie down for a few hours.
Which he did, truth be told, but what he needed more was to get to the Yunaka. If the Kizuna diamond was still there, Kame wanted to find it first. The trouble Ishida would get in with the Kitagawa Family, if that's who he was really working for, would be far greater than any legal punishment he'd receive for the theft.
So he really wasn't angry with Akanishi. Not anymore. And the idiot *had* helped him see things clearly. Kame owed him for that.
"It's all right," Kame repeated, trying to moderate his voice to keep the ire from it. "Just sit still."
Akanishi was so tense already that Kame knew it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge. He reached out blindly, fumbling towards swollen black cotton and palming the contents; Akanishi's strangled gasp encouraged him to play, stroking and squeezing flesh far softer and more responsive than the hardwood chair.
"I thought you had to go kill a guy?"
Kame smothered a smile at Akanishi's rough whimper, a hint that Kame should perhaps be elsewhere, delivered in a voice that begged him to remain. "Shut up. This won't take much longer."
He was right, of course. All that pent-up frustration had to be channelled somewhere; before long, Akanishi reached a shaky climax, shuddering against Kame's hand, and the tension left his body. He slumped down in his seat and with the final drawn-out moan, Kame felt himself begin to respond.
It was time to go.
Using the chair for leverage, Kame propelled himself unsteadily to his feet. He looked down at Akanishi's panting form, dazed and drained, and wondered what would happen to him now. He hadn't struggled - much - or tried to strangle Kame with his legs, or called for help, or done any of a dozen things Kame thought he might have done if their situations were reversed. Something else to be grateful for.
Kame headed for the door, trying unsuccessfully to walk in a straight line, and turned round to deliver his farewell.
"Thanks, Akanishi."
Series: JE Fleet
Fandom: KAT-TUN
Pairing: Akame
Rating: R (m/m activity)
Genre: AU, crack, sci-fi
Word count: 54,000
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the guys or random song lyrics that appear in this fic. Credit for naming the Yunaka goes to maya_morning.
Summary: When Akanishi Jin runs away from Earth, falling in with thieves along the way, the last thing he expects is to attract the attention of rookie Lunar/InterPlanetary Security officer, Kamenashi Kazuya.
Chapter 6
Kame knew he shouldn't have accepted a congratulatory drink from the rest of his unit. Every alarm bell in his body, of which there were many, rang loud and clear to warn him that partaking of any substance that had ever existed in the general vicinity of Ishida Makoto was a really bad idea. Fatal, even.
But it had felt so good, hearing them cheer him on.
Praise from his superiors, for all that it meant a lot to Kame, was far easier to earn than praise from his peers. Just once, to have the rest of the unit rally round him and toast him for his part in apprehending the Yunaka...that one time made up for so many months of being ignored, or taunted, or otherwise mistreated.
At least, Kame liked to pretend it did, though he knew better than to hope that things had changed. They were indulging him for this one night, caught up in the excitement of catching three jewellery thieves, and they'd toss him away again in the morning.
But for one night...he was part of the team. So he took the beer Ishida opened for him, knocked back half of it in the first swallow, and let himself drown in a tide of approval. He could worry about it in the morning.
If any of them ever got to see morning, anyway. It had been nearly the end of Kame's shift, a day spent out on patrol in orbit over Lunacy and watching Ishida's every move, when he'd spotted a familiar craft during a visual sweep of the area. With a hull painted like that, it was hard to miss the Yunaka. Kame had set aside both his regular duty and his Ishida-watchdogging to elbow his way in front of Carl and change course before the burly pilot had even realised his hands were no longer touching the controls.
He'd surprised himself by yelling back at Ishida's demands to know what was going on, insisting that he was going after the Yunaka. As far as everyone else was concerned, the ship was wanted for minor offenses only. Probable accidental weapons discharge, an undeclared crew member, skipping out on a check. Nothing really worth wasting the last ten minutes of their shift on, anyway, not when they could be slowly making their way back towards Lunacy and the bright lights of home.
Kame didn't care about the time, not once he'd double-checked the ship's registration. He hadn't forgotten who he'd been talking to during the holoship fiasco, who'd gotten him into trouble for succumbing to Akanishi's voice and singing a single line, who'd earned him the blame for the whole mess. No matter how beautifully Akanishi sang, it wasn't enough to get him off the hook with Kame, and if he had to get the man to stand up in court and swear that Kame had in no way been responsible for the fight breaking out, he'd do it.
Because he knew it had to have been the crew of the Yunaka. Oh, certainly, they hadn't fired any shots after that first one, and they couldn't have generated the hologram, but the timing was far too convenient for it to have been anyone else. Kame didn't appreciate having accusations of incompetence levelled at him...even if he *had* allowed himself to be (temporarily) distracted by the performance. A deliberate distraction, he was certain, intended to keep him from noticing their little ploy.
Kame didn't mind playing the fool for a good cause...but he wasn't to be made a fool of, and that meant he wanted the Yunaka.
They'd had to chase them halfway to Mars, with Kame having to justify himself at top volume the entire time, but they'd caught them in the end, and when they'd boarded and found a fortune in jewellery in the cargo hold, it had all been worth it. Justified, at last.
Ishida, in particular, had been thrilled, though he'd been infuriated right up until he'd seen the jewels. "All right, rookie, I admit - you were onto something good. And never let it be said that I can't own up when I'm wrong. Isn't that right, guys?"
This had been met by a chorus of just how magnanimous and unbelievably awesome Ishida was, which Kame didn't believe for a second, but when the jerk threw an arm round his shoulders and said he'd be retracting every complaint he'd ever made about Kame - all fifty-two of them - it was, whether true or not, a measure of comfort.
Which is why, instead of following procedure and taking both the Yunaka and its former occupants down to Lunacy and processing them at the station, Kame's high-spirited unit had opted to go directly to the holding cells at Kurogin orbital prison. It was closer, and even though they were all technically off the clock now, no one wanted to miss the unloading of the stolen goods. Everyone was curious about the total value, and Kame had no doubt that a few of them were hoping to make off with a few trinkets as souvenirs before the cataloguing was complete. He'd gotten the impression, in his brief time with Ishida's unit, that such things were commonplace for them, but nothing had happened since he'd been there and he had no proof.
Besides, everyone except Kame wanted to make Ishida happy, and he'd been in a terrible mood since questioning Ueda last night. The black eye probably hadn't helped matters.
"Have another drink," Carl said, offering Kame a second can. They were all sitting in Kurogin's break room, waiting for Tanaka Koki, Nakamaru Yuichi, and Akanishi Jin to be processed, and the alcohol was flowing freely.
Kame waved his hand. "No thanks. Someone's got to stay sober enough to fly us home." And from the looks of things, he was going to be the only real candidate.
"Oh, didn't anyone tell you? Gustav won't be drinking tonight - not allowed to, with his meds - so he'll be taking the helm on the way home. Besides, I'm not drinking *much*, and you know I can fly blind drunk with both hands tied behind my back if I have to. Matter of fact, that's a funny story. Let me tell you 'bout the time I-"
"Thanks for the drink." Kame grabbed the can from Carl's hand and found himself a chair at the table nearest the door. He had no intention of drinking it, though. He wanted his wits about him.
To watch Ishida. Not that there was any great pleasure to be derived from doing so, but the man's sudden about-face was undeniably suspicious. The moment he'd emerged from the Yunaka's cargo hold...that was it. He'd been fuming right up until he went to have a look for himself; two minutes later, he was all smiles and sunshine.
"He's probably going to take all the credit," Kame muttered to himself, and frowned at the way his words were slurring. He couldn't be drunk, could he? He hadn't even finished his first beer, and he normally held his alcohol better than that.
"Here." Ishida popped up beside him with a disposable cup. "You look like you could use this instead." When Kame looked dubiously at the steaming coffee, wary of a trick, he added, "Just a coffee, rookie. Got it out of the machine right now. You don't want it, I'll drink it myself. See?" He took a sip.
Kame smiled awkwardly. "I'll take it, then. Thanks." Another one to add to his drink collection.
Ishida set it down between Kame's two cans of beer, flashed him the sort of grin that generally set the hearts of his groupies aflame, and went to talk to Carl. Kame blew on the hot liquid till it cooled enough to drink and took a few tentative sips. Not bad, for prison coffee.
It didn't do anything to sober him up, though. In fact, Kame reflected hazily as he drained the cup to the dregs, he actually felt *worse* now. There was a tightness in his chest - not painful, yet, but uncomfortable - and his vision was beginning to blur around the edges. Thinking about Ishida, and what he might be planning, seemed like a lot of work. Too much work. Kame couldn't focus on finding hidden meanings, couldn't concentrate on unravelling layers within layers, fathoming lies and bluffs and secrets he didn't want to guess at. He wasn't a detective, damnit. He was just a security officer, following orders, and maybe sometimes he got lucky, put things together at the right time in the right place.
And why shouldn't he? He was good at his job, right? The captain wanted him to take the sergeant's exam already and he knew damned well he was better than everyone else in his unit. Worked much harder, conducted himself more like a LIPS officer should.
Not like all the layabouts he worked with, no sir. Kame's lip curled in a sneer as he surveyed the room; there were three felons locked up only a few doors down and nobody was making any move to question them. Why, they could be part of a much larger organisation, whose members were just waiting for Kame to break down their doors and slap the cuffs on them! He couldn't just sit around and wait...no, not like Carl, who had moved onto a story about how he'd once flown a fighter through an asteroid field while tranked on painkillers, or Aya, who was so relaxed that she was actually reapplying her eyeliner.
"You're too lax," Kame complained.
Aya grinned. "Yeah, but did you see those three we just brought in? Sure, they're thieves...but they're pretty hot. I wouldn't mind signing up to help that Akanishi guy with his rehabilitation, me being a model of good influence and all."
"Impossible." Kame waved a can at her and wondered when he'd finished it. "He wouldn't be interested in you at all. And by the time I'm done with him, he's not going to be interested in *anything* for a long time to come."
"Oh?" Aya put the finishing touches on her left eye and aimed the black kohl pencil at Kame. "Kamenashi's going to question him?"
"Yes, he is." Kame had just decided this. "And get him to sign - in blood - that it's all his fault."
"What is?"
Kame couldn't remember. "Everything."
Aya giggled. "Ooh, sounds serious. You must have a real grudge against this guy, huh?"
"I..." Kame struggled to find the words. They were there, dancing a teasing little number at the very edge of his brain, but they were coy, refusing to let him near. "I don't..."
She wasn't listening anyway. "Then you need to make an impression. He got a bit roughed up on the way in, so it shouldn't be too hard. We just need to make you look intimidating. Stay still a sec."
Before Kame could pull his sluggish self together for a protest, Aya's hands were hovering over his face, carefully ringing his eyes with solid black. He froze, hoping to avoid receiving a pencil in the eye, and ended up having a faint smear of blue eyeshadow across his lids. He backed away before Aya could fish out a lipstick; when she held up her pocket mirror, Kame had to admit that he didn't look too bad. The LIPS uniform was mostly black; Kame, like the others, wore the jacket open to reveal the black and white shirt underneath and rolled the sleeves up when he didn't need to be formal. It was an effective combination.
"Interesting look you got going there, rookie."
Kame whirled round to find Ishida and Carl leaning on the wall behind him, giving each other amused grins.
"You want to question Akanishi, huh?" Ishida continued. "What do you think, Carl? Should we let the baby bird spread his wings?"
Carl was nearly killing himself trying to hold back his laughter. "Sure, why not? Gustav says he's ready for visitors."
"Then," Ishida put a hand on Kame's shoulder, "I think it's time for you to demonstrate your amazing interrogation techniques...like you used on that pilot the other day. Let's go, Kamenashi. We're right behind you."
Ishida didn't let go of Kame until they arrived at Interrogation Room #3; Kame was actually grateful for this since he was having trouble persuading his legs to walk in the right direction. His steps seemed to go everywhere but where he wanted them.
"We'll be right next door, watching over you like guardian angels," Ishida promised, pointing at the room one along. Kame knew there was a one-way mirror - he was going to have an audience. Not an ideal situation, but he didn't have a choice, and besides, here was his chance to show the rest of his unit just what a take-charge kind of guy he really was.
He nodded at Ishida, drew himself up to his full height - not that this was saying much - and tottered unsteadily into the room. The door slid shut behind him, the auto-lock activating with an ominous 'click' in the silence. Through heavy-lidded eyes, Kame got his first proper look at Akanishi Jin.
Dark brown hair, so tidy over the comm, now mussed and damp with sweat. Light skin with an unhealthy green tinge, caused, no doubt, by the same rough treatment that had garnered him the cut on his cheek and the red patch on his jaw. There were rips in his dark grey shirt where someone's fingers had made a fist, tearing the cloth with sharp nails, and the sleeves of his black jacket were pushed up to his elbows to let the ropes cut directly into his skin where he was tied to the arms of the chair. His boots were lined up neatly against the far wall, leaving his sock-clad feet dangling just above the floor where the chair, designed to make the occupant uncomfortable, was slightly too high to allow him to reach it. Though his legs were unbound, there was a great gash in his black pants, revealing a line of bloodied flesh along his right thigh.
Kame took a deep breath; Akanishi's eyes were closed and he didn't appear to have noticed that he was no longer alone in the room. Fine, Kame would have to startle him. He released the breath silently and stepped forward, his footfalls deliberately heavy.
"Akanishi?" Somehow his statement twisted in his throat, coming out as a question instead.
Akanishi's eyes snapped open, suddenly alert; his mouth fell open with considerably less elegance. "K-Kamenashi?" he stuttered.
-----
Jin vowed never to trust to his luck again, because he obviously had a lot and it was all bad. It was entirely his fault they were there. His fault that the Yunaka had been dragged in by that same damned LIPS cruiser, his fault that they'd been boarded and arrested. His fault for stowing away in the first place, for running away from home - again - and making his problems someone else's.
They'd been handcuffed and herded, he, Koki and Nakamaru, onto the Murasaki, and one of the LIPS officers - Ishida, he thought from the voice - had gone into the Yunaka's cargo hold. He'd gone in with a scowl but emerged with a smile. Then he'd taken a fistful of Jin's shirt and hauled him into a deserted corridor, where he'd proceeded to blast him with questions about some diamond that Jin didn't know anything about. When Jin tried to explain that he hadn't been in on the jewellery robberies, Ishida had shoved him into a bulkhead, where the sharp edge had made a nice slice in his thigh. Ishida didn't care, so long as Jin wasn't about to bleed to death in the next ten seconds, and Jin was grateful when a female officer came out and said they'd docked at Kurogin orbital prison.
The LIPS personnel had taken a DNA swab, of course - just to make sure he really was who he said he was - and Jin's spotless record had come up. He wasn't innocent, by any means, but he certainly wasn't guilty of robbing jewellery stores. That had been Koki and Nakamaru.
But damned if Jin was going to be the one to admit to it.
"Kamenashi?" Jin repeated. After processing he'd been thrown in a holding cell by himself, then dragged out five minutes later by some giggling lunatic only to be tied to an old mahogany chair in an interrogation room. It wasn't the warmest welcome he'd ever had, and now he was being confronted by the guy who'd turned a tractor beam on him. And he was looking kind of...out of it. "Uh...Officer Kamenashi? Are you...?"
"I'll ask the questions," Kamenashi snapped. He sauntered towards Jin, his movements those of a man trying desperately to prove he was stone-cold sober, and Jin had to look twice to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Kamenashi hadn't been wearing make-up earlier, had he?
Not that it didn't suit him, those smudged black and blue eyes; a louche, wasted look, accentuated by the rumpled jacket and rolled-up sleeves.
"You always go to work in eyeliner?" Jin blurted out.
The LIPS officer gave him a crooked smile. "I'm off the clock, and this," he waved his hand broadly round the room, almost overbalancing in the process, "is off the record. So we'll talk for as long as I want, about whatever I want, and if you give me the right answers I might choose to believe that lily-white record of yours and let you go."
Jin didn't know whether to believe him or not. There was definitely something weird about Kamenashi. Okay, so he'd only seen the guy for the grand total of a couple of minutes over the comm, and heard him once before that, but the person he'd talked to hadn't overenunciated his words to keep from slurring. Could Kamenashi be drunk?
-----
Though he couldn't possibly have known this, Kame was wondering the same thing. It was the only explanation he could come up with for the way he felt...not that thinking was such an easy process right now. He was too hot; his brain was overheating.
He shook his head to try to clear it, and suddenly there were two Akanishis looking up at him, wide-eyed and confused. The one on the left was marginally better-looking, Kame decided. He blinked and the two figures merged.
Time to get down to business...before he fell down. "Is it just the three of you in the gang or are there others?" he asked.
"We're not in a gang. We're performers! You heard us yourself - you even joined in."
Kame shuddered at the laughter he knew would be coming from behind the mirror. "And I suppose all that jewellery back there was part of your stage costumes?"
"I don't have anything to do with that!" Akanishi protested, wincing when he tried to raise his hands for emphasis. "You don't have to tie me up, you know. I'm not dangerous!"
"Not dangerous? You know the problems you caused me?"
Kame continued his approach, sweat dampening his closed fists, a sickening shakiness in his stride. The table was behind him; there was nothing to use for balance now, not until he reached Akanishi's chair and set one hand down on the reassuring curve of its high back. The dark red wood was smooth under his touch, providing firm support for his fingers that passed to the rest of his body; it was calming, like pressing against a column of cool white marble.
"What...?" Akanishi twisted round, trying to follow Kame's face, causing the tips of his messy brown curls to skim lightly over Kame's skin. The soft hair, the hard wood...
He ignored Akanishi's confusion, instead following the line of the furniture down the back and along the arms with his eyes, ending with Akanishi's bound wrists. They were red where he'd rubbed against the restraints, but not yet bleeding. Not like the wound on his thigh.
Kame frowned. Though Akanishi's pants were black, and therefore not the easiest to check for bloodstains, they looked suspiciously damp around the rent. He reached down with his free hand, carefully pushing the fabric aside to inspect the injury. The wound was still bleeding; it didn't appear life-threatening but it must have been painful, and Kame didn't want to think about what kind of infections one could pick up in a prison.
He'd be remiss in his duties if he didn't at least stop the bleeding. Akanishi was in no position to help himself, after all. Kame staggered over to the locker in the corner to find the emergency first aid kit, made it all the way back to the chair without crashing face-first to the floor and considered this to be an impressive achievement.
He had to get down on the floor anyway to administer first aid, so he knelt slowly, deliberately, making sure everyone watching knew he'd done so under his own power.
"What are you doing?" Akanishi asked, sounding suspicious. "Is this some sort of experimental interrogation technique?"
"Just shut up and take your pants off."
"Um..."
"Oh. Right." Kame sighed and reached for the other man's belt, fumbling slightly with the heavy buckle. It wasn't that his fingers were numb - far from it. They felt hypersensitive, every touch magnified, sensation spreading from fingertip to palm and interfering with his nerves. It made him clumsy, made him careless. He ripped Akanishi's belt away, tossing it behind him, then set to work on the pants.
Easier said than done. Akanishi couldn't reach the floor, meaning he couldn't lift himself up, and the chair arms, though sturdy, were too slender for him to try with those. Kame was forced to work the torn black pants down over Akanishi's hips and underneath him, inch by slow inch, hands caught between the warmed wood and scorching flesh. He was close enough to hear Akanishi's breath quicken, becoming short gasps, and to watch fine tremors begin in his legs.
"Hold still," Kame mumbled, as though Akanishi had a choice in the matter. "I can't fix you up through your clothes, that's all."
"I know that!"
Kame rooted around in the first aid kit till he found what he was looking for: an all-in-one antiseptic, bandage and sim-skin package. He wiped the area clean first so he could see the actual cut, then squeezed the pack over it, wringing out every last drop of liquid until the mixture sealed the wound, forming a flesh-coloured bandage in the gash. The process was slow; Kame's eyes and left hand remained fixed on Akanishi's thigh but his right hand rested on the seat, in the gap between Akanishi's spread legs.
It was so beautiful, Kame thought, sneaking a peak at it. The dark red grains lay neat and smooth, faintly warm to the touch where Akanishi's weight had rested; colour so rich and full that Kame could lose himself in it. He stroked the wood once, experimentally, loving the feel of it under his fingers, and ran his thumb along the curve of the seat until he encountered an obstacle: Akanishi's bare leg.
That, too, felt nice.
Akanishi flinched, and Kame looked up to see him biting down on his lip. "You okay?" he asked, not that he really cared. "The bandage should stop stinging soon."
"Forget the bandage!" Akanishi lowered his voice, aiming it down to where Kame's head was still poised between his legs. "What the hell are you doing? Trying to molest me or something? Is that what you guys do, you kidnap innocent people and drag them back here for a little fun before you make them disappear for good?"
Kame glared at him. "You think I can't get any without resorting to kidnapping, Akanishi?"
"I didn't say that, did- oh." If Akanishi's voice had been uncertain before, it was well and truly incredulous now that he'd seen Kame caressing the furniture. "You're...you're groping a chair. I don't believe this."
"I am *not* groping a chair. I am merely appreciating the skill of its maker."
But Kame's actions belied his words. He ran his fingers along the rim of the seat, skimming lightly over Akanishi's leg and continuing round the side, brushing up against one trembling hip in the process. Since he couldn't reach all the way round, he reversed his path, lingering when he found a small nick in the wood. He pressed it with his nail, wondering if some past felon had scored it to mark time. It didn't spoil the chair's beauty, this tiny imperfection, simply served to accentuate the graceful curves.
"You're seriously weird."
"And you're shivering," Kame said absently.
Akanishi snorted. "The vents are going full blast and I'm sitting here nearly naked from the waist down. That's not thermal underwear, you know - of course I'm shivering!"
"It's too much trouble to get your pants back on, and besides, they're already ruined. You'll get a change later."
Kame's words were still slurred, and he didn't like it. The longer he stayed there, the more tired he felt, dizziness making his head spin a spiral of stars. Akanishi had the nice, sturdy chair to rest on, didn't he? What did Kame have? Didn't *he* deserve to rest too? He'd brought in three jewellery thieves tonight, and that had to count for something.
Akanishi laughed nervously. "So there is going to be a 'later', then? You're not going to kill me?"
"How can I make your life a misery if you're dead?" Kame mumbled as he laid his head down on Akanishi's uninjured thigh, causing the other man to squawk loudly.
Kame's resting place was warm, despite Akanishi's claims of being cold, and Kame switched hands so that his right gripped the chair where seat met back, arm pressed against bare skin, and the left splayed flat on the seat, forcing Akanishi's legs even further apart. It wasn't the most comfortable position in the world, but to Kame it was blessed relief.
-----
Jin was pretty sure, by this point, that Kamenashi was on something. On a lot of somethings, probably, though he couldn't think of anything offhand that produced the desire to molest furniture. He couldn't imagine there would be much of a market for that.
He'd been surprised when the LIPS officer treated his injury, and even more so when he'd lain his head on Jin's thigh, but the thing that really knocked him back was when Kamenashi began stroking the seat in earnest, smiling weirdly to himself and completely ignoring the fact that he was driving Jin crazy. Jin's legs were driven further apart - he couldn't kick Kamenashi now if he'd wanted to - and Kamenashi's fingers rushed to reclaim the space, greedy for more.
"Hey," Jin said shakily, "don't treat an injured man like this."
"Not my fault you're injured." Kamenashi's words were muffled - lazy, like he was only bothering to use half his mouth - and Jin could feel them against his thigh, puffs of air ghosting over bare skin. "What'd you do to annoy Ishida? 'Side from existing, of course."
Ah, maybe if Jin could get a conversation going, Kamenashi would start acting sane. Or at least stop tickling Jin's inner thighs as he caressed the chair. "I told him I didn't know anything about any diamond," he murmured, not wanting any possible recording devices to pick it up. He didn't fancy getting kicked around by Ishida again, and from what he'd heard, Kamenashi didn't sound any too fond of the man either.
"Diamond?"
"Yeah. He wanted..." The scrapes on Jin's chest from Ishida's knuckles blazed raw as he struggled to remember. "A flawed diamond. He insisted we had it on board the Yunaka. I said I didn't know what we had back there, and things got ugly."
"Did it have a name?"
The urgency in Kamenashi's voice startled him. "Yeah. Something like...no, that was... Ah, Kizuna. That was it. Was it a family heirloom or something, is that why he's so mad about it?"
He didn't expect Kamenashi to start laughing. He didn't sound happy, though - strained and bitter, more than anything else, rasping and gasping for a long minute. "It's not his, and it's none of your business why he wants it."
"Is it your business?" Jin whispered.
"Yeah." Kamenashi's fingertips trailed along the grain, following a particular stretch of burnt red until they encountered something other than mahogany. By this time, the chair wasn't the only thing hard to the touch. Jin didn't want to admit it, but being touched like that, even if it was by a complete lunatic with a chair fetish, was making him stir.
To be fair, it wasn't as though he was desperate. Just because he and Yamapi hadn't done much of anything in the last couple of years didn't mean Jin had been a stone statue. But those few encounters had been temporary measures of relief at best, nothing lasting, and never with anyone as attractive as Kamenashi, drugged-up and strung-out though he was.
Kamenashi's head slid off Jin's leg till his chin rested on the very edge of the chair; he tilted forwards and for a moment, Jin could see nothing but reddish-brown hair with darker roots, occasional wild spikes at odd angles. Kamenashi's breath wafted gently between Jin's thighs, raising the temperature even further, and Jin held his own breath in response, waiting to see what the LIPS officer would do next.
But when he saw Kamenashi's tongue dart out and lick the chair, he lost it.
"You're a freak!"
"And you're a liar," Kamenashi said casually, as though he hadn't just been witnessed giving some tongue action to a piece of furniture. "They're cataloguing the contents of your cargo hold right now. The Kizuna will turn up sooner or later."
"But I really don't know what's in there!" Jin pleaded. "I didn't have anything to do with the thefts."
"Give me one good reason why I should trust you."
Jin gave up when he felt Kamenashi begin afresh, both hands this time, pushing between his skin and the seat beneath. "Do I look like I could lie to you like this?"
-----
Kame raised his head, took a good look at Akanishi's face, and decided that the other man was probably telling him the truth. He was flushed, sweating just as much as Kame himself; his words were more moaned than spoken. He couldn't have hidden a lie: not in the shivers of his skin, not in the catch of his breath.
"You want me." Kame made it a statement, not a question.
"Yes." Another moan as Kame let his fingers meander closer to full black briefs, keeping himself between Akanishi and the observers behind the mirror.
Not that Kame expected it to do much good - Ishida, Carl and the others had doubtless already split their sides laughing, and Kame would be shown the door the moment he walked out of the interrogation room. Seducing a suspect was a perfectly legitimate tactic, but he no longer believed Akanishi to be guilty of anything other than a little stupidity and a lot of bad luck, some of which had unfortunately made the transfer to Kame during the holoship incident.
Besides, it was hardly "seduction", even if Akanishi didn't have any objections.
Kame couldn't persuade his mind to get back to work. Ishida obviously hadn't found the Kizuna, assuming it really was on the Yunaka, but he must've seen something there to give him the idea. Goods from the same jewellery store, maybe. It would show up during cataloguing, or Ishida would take it before then - whichever it was, Kame had to prevent it. Or better yet, catch Ishida in the act.
But thoughts like these, of the kind that would get him back into the captain's good graces, strained a tired brain that only wanted to rest, and to feel good, and to find strength in the carved mahogany. Kame couldn't move that far, couldn't get up off the floor to drag himself back to the real world. There was only the chair standing firm and supportive under his hand, and Akanishi Jin.
He was still looking up at Akanishi, letting his hands roam without guidance, watching the other man gulp down great lungfuls of air. Confusion, resentment, frustration...and desperate need. All these were free to view on Akanishi's face. It was obvious that he could hide nothing, especially not from someone who happened to be touching him so intimately.
"Don't."
"Huh?"
"Don't," Akanishi repeated. "Don't look at me like that. I don't want to be an evening's fun for some furniture-loving freak. Even a prisoner has rights, Kamenashi, and if you're not going to play fair then get the hell away from me."
Play fair? Kame winced. When did anyone ever play fair with *him*?
"Watch your mouth, or I'll leave you just like this," he promised. "All tied up, unable to find release. I've already got what I want from you."
Namely, that Ishida was sure the Kizuna was on board the Yunaka - not what Kame had gone in there for, but right now, he'd take it. There didn't seem to be much point in yelling at Akanishi about the trouble he'd caused Kame. For one thing, that would require effort, and probably standing up, which was out of the question. For another...well, Kame wasn't the only one in a bad situation.
-----
Jin thought he might spontaneously combust out of sheer frustration if Kamenashi walked away now. The deft, teasing fingers were still paying more attention to the chair than to him, gracing his skin with only the barest of touches, but when he whined helplessly in protest, there was a subtle shift in their movements.
"All right." Kamenashi's tone softened. "I'd hate being teased in your situation, too."
When Kamenashi leant down again, Jin thought at first that he intended to lick the chair, which wasn't nearly so responsive as a warm, breathing human being, aged twenty and frustrated as hell. Instead, he planted a gentle kiss on the inside of Jin's thigh, making him squirm even more. Jin's first impulse was impossible: to return the gesture.
"We've got an audience back there," Kamenashi murmured. "Probably laughing their heads off at us. So don't expect much. Besides, I've had too much to drink."
Trust Jin to get mixed up with a lush who drank on duty. But...Kamenashi had said he was off the clock, hadn't he?
"How much did you have to drink?" Jin whispered back. "Why were you drinking, anyway?"
"We caught the three of you," Kamenashi said. "Ishida decided it was cause for celebration. Brought you out here instead of going down to Lunacy 'cause Ishida's the ranking officer, and most of the prison officials aren't here right now. Good place to unwind and check out your cargo."
When Kamenashi said "check out your cargo", Jin caught the poorly-hidden meaning. He'd met corrupt cops before - had worked with a few, actually - and it was obvious he'd been caught by a LIPS unit who'd skipped out on their ethics training. He didn't know whether that included Kamenashi or not, though.
"How much did you have to drink?" he repeated, more firmly this time.
"Uh...only one beer. I think." Kamenashi shook his head vigorously. "No. One beer, then one coffee. I never started the second can."
Jin hissed. Either Kamenashi was a real lightweight or he'd been given something, probably in the coffee.
"What? You don't believe me? I definitely didn't start the second can. Took me ages to finish the first one."
"Kamenashi, listen to me. Did someone else give you the coffee?"
Kamenashi scowled. "Ishida. He gave it to me."
Probably because he saw you weren't getting plastered fast enough, Jin thought. "You're not drunk, Kamenashi - you're drugged."
When Kamenashi's hands stilled, Jin knew he'd struck a nerve. The muttered obscenities and cursing of Ishida's name going on between his legs was a big giveaway too. He could practically feel the waves of pain surging over him, a stormy black sea full of rage and resentment, and fierce enough that Jin thought he might drown in it. It scared him a little that he almost wouldn't have minded.
-----
Ishida.
Damn it. Kame had thought the man's one-eighty turn was suspicious, and it should have been obvious. Would have been obvious, if only he hadn't been too caught up in the warmth of one night's acceptance, and tired from not enough sleep, and slightly buzzed from the first beer, and...
...no. He couldn't blame any of that. It was his own fault, plain and simple. He should've been more alert. Should've trusted his instincts and *not*, under any circumstances, accepted anything from a man he knew hated his guts.
Well, the feeling was mutual.
Kame let his anger grow, starting with the small core of bitterness that had appeared the second he'd met Ishida Makoto; he felt the cleansing burn through his synapses, clearing his fogged mind. Not enough to give him total clarity - whatever drug he'd been given had too strong a hold on him for that - but it was more than sufficient for him to be stung with humiliation that Ishida had deliberately set him up for his own amusement - for everyone's amusement - turning him loose on a prisoner he couldn't care less about.
There was no way to salvage the situation. Whatever happened, Kame was leaving the unit. Either he quit, or Ishida would keep up with the complaints until he was thrown out in disgrace. A transfer didn't hold much more appeal; Kame didn't think he could stand to remain with LIPS in any capacity. All his hard work, for nothing...but at least he could start again, and for the right reasons.
"Um...Kamenashi?" Akanishi ventured. "If you're about to go on a killing spree, could you move away from me first? This is a little bit..."
"It's all right. I'm not angry at *you*." Kame appreciated that growling at Akanishi wasn't going to convince him of that, but it was true. He didn't move from position, conscious that Ishida could still be watching him, not wanting to give him any reason - other than the usual - to target Kame. Best just to continue, stumble drunkenly out the door, and claim he needed to lie down for a few hours.
Which he did, truth be told, but what he needed more was to get to the Yunaka. If the Kizuna diamond was still there, Kame wanted to find it first. The trouble Ishida would get in with the Kitagawa Family, if that's who he was really working for, would be far greater than any legal punishment he'd receive for the theft.
So he really wasn't angry with Akanishi. Not anymore. And the idiot *had* helped him see things clearly. Kame owed him for that.
"It's all right," Kame repeated, trying to moderate his voice to keep the ire from it. "Just sit still."
Akanishi was so tense already that Kame knew it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge. He reached out blindly, fumbling towards swollen black cotton and palming the contents; Akanishi's strangled gasp encouraged him to play, stroking and squeezing flesh far softer and more responsive than the hardwood chair.
"I thought you had to go kill a guy?"
Kame smothered a smile at Akanishi's rough whimper, a hint that Kame should perhaps be elsewhere, delivered in a voice that begged him to remain. "Shut up. This won't take much longer."
He was right, of course. All that pent-up frustration had to be channelled somewhere; before long, Akanishi reached a shaky climax, shuddering against Kame's hand, and the tension left his body. He slumped down in his seat and with the final drawn-out moan, Kame felt himself begin to respond.
It was time to go.
Using the chair for leverage, Kame propelled himself unsteadily to his feet. He looked down at Akanishi's panting form, dazed and drained, and wondered what would happen to him now. He hadn't struggled - much - or tried to strangle Kame with his legs, or called for help, or done any of a dozen things Kame thought he might have done if their situations were reversed. Something else to be grateful for.
Kame headed for the door, trying unsuccessfully to walk in a straight line, and turned round to deliver his farewell.
"Thanks, Akanishi."