[log] Kamio, Oshitari
Date: 06.01.07
Rating: G
Summary: After Saeki's sudden, and unexpected, appearance, Kamio retreats to avoid talking about the entire subject. Oshitari, however, has questions. (v.v. backdated, we know…>.>;)
Kamio's fists were a blur of movement, each one landing precisely on the worn leather of the punching bag. His knuckles were starting to ache after two hours of the constant hits; he'd forgone gloves, stubbornly, and the backs of his hands were red and swollen. But he wasn't interested in stopping.
Not yet, at any rate. Every time he stepped back from the bag and shook his hands out, the image of a face -- that face -- flashed in his mind and his temper flared. He'd seen some underhanded things in his time, probably done some of the worst, but this was just beyond low. Even for Sakaki, and the speed-mutant couldn't guess who else might have done it or what the Brotherhood's head honcho had in mind, having someone show up at his own home wearing that face. Why was easy enough. One didn't up and leave the Brotherhood without expecting some form of retribution, even a couple of years after the fact.
And well, if the goal had been to stir up a good deal of memories for the too-slender redhead, he'd certainly succeeded in that end.
Kamio could barely get his temper to settled down, let alone delve into anything else.
Kamio seethed, breathing hard through his teeth, and dropped his arms. His shoulders were starting to ache, his hands numb as his adrenaline levels finally depleted. Shaking them out again, Kamio pursued his lips as he studied his bruises.
"...Better?"
Yuushi had watched the flurry of angry action from just inside the door, having made sure to lock the door behind them. He still wasn't sure how he should feel about the situation. Alarmed, shocked, confused...he felt all of those.
But he was also irritated, under it all. Irritated that here was a prime example of Akira's tendency to never divulge anything about himself or his past. He'd had to accept that fact when he'd fallen in love with the redhead, but he'd never agreed with it or encouraged his lover's silence. Especially when he'd made his own life, mistakes and all, open completely for his lover.
Raking a handful of his hair back, Yuushi crossed over to him, looking over him to study the swaying punching bag. "You know I hate it when you do this without gloves", he murmured reproachfully. "I've never seen you this upset, either. Who is Saeki Koujirou, Akira?"
"Not really."
Kamio didn't start at the voice. He'd been expecting his lover after all, and that was the other part of the knot of nerves that had tangled up in his stomach and was driving his adrenaline levels to pitch. He didn't want to talk about this. About then. But crap…Saeki Koujirou had walked in the front door. It had looked like his deceased lover, talked like him…acted like him.
Even the eyes had been Kou's. The confusion. The hurt.
Kamio cursed softly under his breath, poking absently at one bruise, and took a deep breath, steadying his temper. This was Yuushi, after all, and it wasn't Yuushi's fault.
"Hands'll be fine," he murmured, keeping his voice soft as he turned and headed over to a nearby beach to pick up a bottle of water. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd punched something until he was black and blue; at least this time, it wasn't his fist into a brick wall. He'd gone that route before once and almost shattered his wrist. "Had worse and this is better than bitching at Ry."
The redhead opened the water, and sighed. "Just jump right in the lion's den, babe," he teased half-heartedly. "Or tiger's. More appropriate."
Another breath. "Kou was someone I used to work with at the 'Hood. He died on a mission."
"I gathered as much in the foyer." Yuushi kept his voice carefully modulated, neither accusing nor backsliding. Akira was especially jumpy, and beating his fists into a pulp hadn't seemed to make a dent in his nervous, adrenaline-saturated energy.
He traced a seam in the still-swinging bag with a finger quietly. Despite his love for the younger man, dealing with Kamio Akira was sometimes difficult. Especially when he was upset and defensive. Still...the time was passing where Yuushi would sit by and allow it. He couldn't, not after what had just happened.
"He was something more than just that." Again, he didn't accuse, merely said it softly, as fact. The punching bag twirled gently under the guidance of his fingers, and he watched it rather than Akira.
"Mm...yeah, guess you would have," Kamio answered, his own tone even as he could keep it. He took a drink of the water, then closed it and set it back down on the bench. He turned a palm over, working loose the bandage and swiftly unwrapping his hands.
He winced when he saw the full extent of the bruising. He was going to need ice on them.
It would have to wait until later though. Because somehow, Kamio had expected that they'd have to this talk -- even if he wanted nothing more than to avoid it. Looking back, his time with the Brotherhood was not something he was proud of, but he'd been fourteen. Alone. And scared out of his wits after discovering he was a mutant and running away from home. They'd offered sanctuary -- sanctuary that had come with a price.
Kamio frowned. Desperate times, desperate measures, right?
Yuushi's breath held, even as the bag continued to twirl gently in the air. He'd been expecting that, waiting for the confirmation to his suspicions.
He stared at the punching bag and suddenly felt sympathetic towards it.
"...Much like we're doing now." A hundred little facts sprang into his mind at once. Akira, when they first met, practically emaciated, edgy and completely uncaring of what could happen to himself. Akira, the night Yuushi had confessed that he loved him, looking shocked...and maybe even a little guilty?
Akira in the foyer. Looking on at the Saeki double in shock, and then in furious anger.
As though life were throwing up a cruel joke in his face.
Yuushi swallowed and reminded himself to breathe normally. "Was this something I didn't want to know either?" It seemed to be one of Akira's stock answers about his past.
Staying still was hard.
It was harder when he wanted to avoid the conversation, when he wanted nothing more than to go run and run he'd exhausted himself completely. Until he collapsed and didn't have the energy to get back up and into the house. Let alone...talk.
Letting a soft breath, Kamio closed his eyes. "It's something I...didn't want to talk about," he admitted carefully, though he doubted that that was a surprise to his lover. When did Kamio want to talk about those two years before he'd met Yuushi? "I don't want to talk about it but...fuck. My dead boyfriend just walked in the front door." He scrubbed a hand over his face and tossed the towel back on the bench.
He felt he'd been slugged in the stomach. Multiple times.
"I was there, Yuushi," he began, with careful words. "We had bad intel, the whole fucking thing was a set-up."
The impulse was strong to go to Kamio and hug the speed-mutant tight. But Yuushi stayed where he was, understanding that his lover's constant energy and current mood weren't going to allow him to be held for very long.
"And he was killed? I'm so sorry, Akira...Perhaps we should have traced him, to see who sent him." There was a plethora of possibilities in Yuushi's head for the stranger's appearance, but the simplest one had to be that it was a ruse for some purpose. To try and sway Akira back to the Brotherhood, maybe? To try and gain their trust?
He would have to be a little more circumspect with his instincts now. His gut had said that the stranger wasn't a threat to them. But he wasn't infallible. And the next time he could put them all at risk.
"Yeah, lethal injury," Kamio replied, not looking at his lover. "I got him out but...not back in time. Or at least...that's what the doctors at the Hood said." He crinkled his nose and balled up one fist, pressing it into the opposite palm and hissing at the pain. Because, really...how much did he really trust those idiots.
Maybe once he had.
But all of that had changed after that mission. Everything had changed then, the next couple of months after a blur even to a so-called speed demon. He'd gone through the motions, done as he was trained to do and told, but the more he did...the less he'd cared. By the time he'd been sent to the Oshitari household, he'd honestly had little intention of going back. And at that time, there had only been one viable way out.
Kamio sighed and turned, finally just collapsing on the bench. Even if his system was still wired, he was tired and feeling off-kilter still. He rested his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling limply between and let his eyes focus on the floor. "We're going to have to do something," he agreed. "I'd like to know who set this up and what the fuck do they want."
Leaving the bag to go to his boyfriend, Yuushi kneeled in front of him. He stroked one of Kamio's arms, much in the fashion that 'Saeki' had done to him earlier, though he wasn't thinking about it.
"Could it have been the Brotherhood? It's been awhile...but they could be looking to take you back." He leaned closer, blue hair brushing red. "I want to know everything...about them. About him." Then he would know more about Kamio himself.
Kamio's arm jerked at the touch, the tension coiled inside the muscle reacting without thought on his behalf. "Fuck...sorry, babe," he murmured, balling up a fist to hold his forearm steady. "And yeah, that's what I'm wondering. I just don't have a clue why they're even bothering. Thought I was beneath their notice now or something," he groused. It had been two years, after all. "If they wanted me back...wouldn't have taken 'em this long to come after me, babe."
And if they were going to take a hit at him, again...why wait?
Raising his head, Kamio looked at his lover's face and sighed. "...fine," he agreed, reluctantly. "Where do you want me to start, babe?"
Yuushi reached up and framed Kamio's beloved face in his hands. "You can tell me from the beginning", his eyes sought to meet his lover's involuntarily shifting ones, thumbs stroking his cheeks.
"But you can start here." His voice was a whisper on Akira's lips, pressing gently against the other's in a kiss, seeking to comfort and be comforted.
I love you so much, Akira...
Kamio's eyelids fluttered shut, his pupils frantic behind them as he leaned into the kiss. It wasn't his nature to linger. Hell, it was a force of will to hold still and let his lover's lips move against his softly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he shifted one arm so that his hand could curl around the back of Yuushi's neck, fingers absently tangling in the longer strange of his hair. "Babe, I..." he breathed, uncertain.
He'd never gone into much about the Brotherhood with his lover. Vague mentions of extreme mutant-rights fanatics, but nothing detailed.
"I'm not proud of any of this," he finally conceded, using one hand to push Yuushi backwards until the other was sitting on the floor and he was straddling his lover's legs, arms around his neck and lips pressed into a harder kiss. It wasn't like he was trying to distract the other -- much -- but some part of him did want to put this off as long as possible. The same part that was a bit afraid of how Yuushi was going to react to what he was about to learn.
Still, he began, "I was fourteen when my powers showed up, babe. Full force. Parents thought I was just ADHD before that, and threw a fit when they found out I was a mutant…"
Swallowing, Kamio laid his forehead on Yuushi's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was hard to keep his voice steady as he detailed being found by a Brotherhood member after a couple of months on the street, being sent to Hokkaido for training. Then the missions started, and he was sent from Hokkaido to Kyoto, then somewhere down south until finally someone had decided he'd been needed in Tokyo, where he was assigned to work with one Saeki Koujirou. Saeki was as aggressive a flirt as he was a vicious predator, and had managed to catch the redhead's attention when Kamio tended to keep himself separate from whoever he was living with at any moment. It had been enough to get the speed mutant to slow down and notice him. Things had…developed. Kamio knew he had gotten attached.
Then that mission had happened.
He'd known. On some level, he'd known Akira's past would be riddled with pain and violence and horrible things. But to have it all laid out before him like this, with Akira practically trembling in his arms from the memories and the adrenaline racing through his system...
It was all far more than he'd expected, to tell the truth. His arms curled around Kamio, hands constantly moving over the other's back, his hair, anywhere they could reach. He was silent for a handful of moments, putting each and every fact into perspective.
"I'm so sorry, my love", he murmured, holding Kamio tighter. "I didn't understand...I'm sorry."
He wasn't being pushed away.
It was the first thing he realized as his voice tapered off. Oshitari wasn't shoving him off his lap, looking at him in disgust or terror -- and after some of things he'd done, he would understand either -- or even going still with shock. The hands on his back were moving, soothing. Kamio drew a shaking breath and pressed his forehead against the curve of Yuushi's neck.
He needed this, strange as it sometimes felt to admit it. "Told ya that ya didn't wanna know," the redhead grumbled, his voice more tired than scolding.
"I did want to know", Yuushi corrected. "And now I do. And I still love you, Akira." He held his boyfriend, brushing his cheek across the flame red locks, his own blue strands mixing in.
"Did you think I would hate you for any of that? You did. Akira...Nothing will change how I feel about you. Nothing."
"...the thought might of crossed my mind," Kamio admitted, awkward and quiet. He wouldn't have been surprised by it, after all. He'd done some nasty things in the two years he'd served the Brotherhood. He'd done them without questioning or even thought, like a good little solider in the 'war' against humanity was supposed to. And it had taken his own boyfriend's death for the redhead to open his eyes and see how utterly pointless that 'war' really was.
Though at least his eyes had been opened. He moved his hands carefully, wincing down the pain as his fingers threaded into soft blue locks. "Love you too, babe," he murmured. "Always."
The former illusionist smiled softly, pulling Kamio minutely closer. After a few moments had passed, he murmured. "And I suppose the thought that you might have left me to follow your 'dead' ex-boyfriend might have crossed my mind for just a second...can I at least say you do have good taste, Akira?" He chuckled, attempting to alleviate the dark cloud still hovering over Kamio's head.
Kamio gave a soft, low laugh himself, part of the tension inside him uncoiling rapidly. "Not gonna happen, babe," he said, pushing back enough that he could look his lover in the eyes. "Kou was…" He paused and shook his head. "We were still kids, babe. We hadn't worked out what we really wanted from each other yet, ya know? Fuck…I was the twins' age when he died."
Which was a disturbing thought, Kamio sighed. He felt a lot older than he really was. "But, yeah…he was fucking gorgeous. Come to think of it, so's my current boyfriend." The redhead smirked cockily. "Guess I do have damn good taste. Though…I gotta wonder about something that guy said," he admitted.
He had to wonder about a lot of things, really, mostly the why's and who's of the situation. Yet something was nagging at him. Inhaling deeply, Kamio leveled his own serious gaze at his lover.
"What the fuck did he mean when he called me the Black Knight?"
"Perhaps you seemed too dark to be my white knight?" Yuushi's lame attempt at humor fell flat, and he sighed looking at Akira's stony expression.
"I hadn't anticipated he would know quite so much..." And really, Yuushi hadn't intended on letting Kamio know about the Hellfire Club. Most especially, his own private faction of it. There were dangers in playing both sides of the field, in manipulating people and events. Dangers he didn't want his lover exposed to, no matter his past. And there was that he didn't want Akira to feel obligated, or affiliated against his wishes.
Yes, it was foolish. But Yuushi knew he was illogically overprotective when it came down to a handful of people closest to him. His father, the twins, Shishido and Fuji, Atobe and Tezuka...and Kamio Akira.
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"...didn't we just have this conversation in reverse?" Kamio asked back, tilting his head to the side and frowning slightly. "Babe, 'm not gonna ask something I don't want to know."
Yuushi sighed. It wasn't as though he could deny his lover anything. He didn't want Akira to think that he didn't trust him implicitly.
And, he'd always believed that information for information was a fair enough trade.
"He was right about only one thing." Yuushi leaned back on his hands, looking Akira in the eye as he spoke. "I am the Black King."
"Ryou and Atsushi are my Black Rooks. Together, we are the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club." He went on with a brief description of the Hellfire Club, why his father had established the Tokyo branch, the circumstances that had led to Yuushi creating his own faction within it.
Kamio clenched and unclenched one fist as he listened, the rhythmic movement enough to help him focus on staying still for a little bit longer. It was...not as bad as anything he'd done, if one was looking at comparisons. Intrigue and espionage seemed better suited to it.
Though Kamio knew what the twins were, potentially, capable of. He'd trained them.
Which didn't leave him feeling easier about anything his boyfriend was telling him. Sure, it was mostly information, but Kamio knew for a fact: people would kill over information. The same as anything else.
The redhead inhaled and twisted his hand, keeping up the steady movement as he closed his eyes. "Fuck, babe," the redhead sighed.
"Right now, it's not as dangerous as it sounds." Yuushi looked down and watched that hand for a moment. "I've merely been keeping the scales balanced. If Tomihana and X-Prime become lax, I find things to keep them occupied. If the Brotherhood or other militant factions are about to create too much chaos, I leak what information I can through Shishido to stop them. I keep an eye on what's happening politically and use what influence I have to prevent them passing any definitive mutant legislation. Their attempts so far have been...laughable."
"And I'm sure you've always wondered just what it is I'm doing in my office all the time." He smiled wryly, brushing some of Kamio's hair from his face. Then he sobered. "Nothing has to change, Akira, by you knowing all this. You don't have to be involved."
"Babe, you're playing Sakaki. Trust me. It is dangerous," the redhead corrected softly. He didn't know the man well, but he'd been around those he'd trained. And if they were any indication of Sakaki's attitude…
Suffice to say, he didn't want his boyfriend caught in that kind of crossfire.
Kamio couldn't help but smirk a little and lean into the other's touch as his hair was brushed aside. "I've got an active imagination, babe," he pointed out. "I've come up with some ideas when I've actually thought about it." Nothing close to the truth, of course, but that was to Yuushi' credit as to how well he'd kept this from the redhead.
"Mmm…didn't think it was going to but I already am, babe. Kinda," he added thoughtfully. "I'm guessing part of the crap I train the twins in isn't just for bodyguard duty."
Not if he knew the younger boys as well as he thought he did.
Though really, that was for the best if they were going to be involved in something like this. It just meant Kamio might have to adjust their training a bit, make sure that the two of them had every possible trick -- even the things he'd held back -- at their disposal. Approve or not, he didn't want either of them at more risk than need be. He wasn't going to make the same mistakes again.
Not with his lover or his charges.
Speaking of which, blue eyes opened and studied the man he sat on. "I'm not sure I want to be more involved, babe," he admitted. "Not…right now. Not with all this other shit." He sighed, pulled his face away from the other's palm. "But if this is the type of stuff you're involved in. Fuck, babe. The twins are good at what they do. Best damn bodyguards you probably could of found. But they aren't always around you, Yuu. I'm not either. And your powers...babe, you can't depend on them to help you," he groused.
Appeasing his lover was farther up Yuushi's list of priorities than the slight annoyance at being found lacking in any way. Or being compared to Sakaki, who, by all accounts he'd heard so far, wasn't someone he wanted to be in the same room with, much less emulate.
"I'm sorry for that, then", he replied. "I don't want you feeling obligated to do anything or have anything to do with the Inner Circle if you don't want. You can still train us all as you see fit." He kissed Kamio's lips gently. "Don't worry so much. I don't intend on putting any of us in danger."
"I know you don't, babe," Kamio murmured in reply, lips brushing against Oshitari's. "And I'm not saying you can't handle it. But I'm still gonna worry, ya know?" It wasn't like he could ever stop worrying, not with his speed and the heightened sense of nerves that his power caused.
And the biggest concern eating at him? Oshitari's lack of power. It was entirely not his lover's fault, but it stripped the other mutant of something vital. And while Tomihana seemed more than tolerant of the psis whose powers were disrupted by the astral plane, certain members of the Brotherhood would probably be other stories.
He didn't want to tell his lover that they'd view him as weak. Which meant, without his powers, Oshitari needed another way to fight back.
"Look, ease my mind a bit, babe?" he suggested, turning the idea over in his mind. "Your fencing's great to keep you in shape and stuff, but…it's not gonna save your life, babe." And he'd made this fuck-up before, assuming what the other knew would be enough, not pushing for more when his gut his told him to.
He wasn't going to make it again.
Pulling himself off his lover's lap, Kamio grabbed Oshitari's hands to help the other stand as well. "Let me train you, Yuu. Like I do the twins."
Kamio's proposal made perfect, logical sense. Yuushi knew this, knew that with his crippled power he should seek other ways to defend himself.
As good as the twins were, no one was infallible, after all.
And it wasn't that he was against it, by any means. He couldn't find an argument opposed to it. And, he had to wonder, why he was interested in looking for one?
Maybe Fuji and Shishido were right when they told him he was lazy.
He stood, keeping Akira's hands tucked into his own, feeling how small and powerful they were, even shaking with adrenaline. And, looking into his lover's eyes, smiled.
"Does this mean I'll have to get out of bed early from now on?"
Rating: G
Summary: After Saeki's sudden, and unexpected, appearance, Kamio retreats to avoid talking about the entire subject. Oshitari, however, has questions. (v.v. backdated, we know…>.>;)
Kamio's fists were a blur of movement, each one landing precisely on the worn leather of the punching bag. His knuckles were starting to ache after two hours of the constant hits; he'd forgone gloves, stubbornly, and the backs of his hands were red and swollen. But he wasn't interested in stopping.
Not yet, at any rate. Every time he stepped back from the bag and shook his hands out, the image of a face -- that face -- flashed in his mind and his temper flared. He'd seen some underhanded things in his time, probably done some of the worst, but this was just beyond low. Even for Sakaki, and the speed-mutant couldn't guess who else might have done it or what the Brotherhood's head honcho had in mind, having someone show up at his own home wearing that face. Why was easy enough. One didn't up and leave the Brotherhood without expecting some form of retribution, even a couple of years after the fact.
And well, if the goal had been to stir up a good deal of memories for the too-slender redhead, he'd certainly succeeded in that end.
Kamio could barely get his temper to settled down, let alone delve into anything else.
Kamio seethed, breathing hard through his teeth, and dropped his arms. His shoulders were starting to ache, his hands numb as his adrenaline levels finally depleted. Shaking them out again, Kamio pursued his lips as he studied his bruises.
"...Better?"
Yuushi had watched the flurry of angry action from just inside the door, having made sure to lock the door behind them. He still wasn't sure how he should feel about the situation. Alarmed, shocked, confused...he felt all of those.
But he was also irritated, under it all. Irritated that here was a prime example of Akira's tendency to never divulge anything about himself or his past. He'd had to accept that fact when he'd fallen in love with the redhead, but he'd never agreed with it or encouraged his lover's silence. Especially when he'd made his own life, mistakes and all, open completely for his lover.
Raking a handful of his hair back, Yuushi crossed over to him, looking over him to study the swaying punching bag. "You know I hate it when you do this without gloves", he murmured reproachfully. "I've never seen you this upset, either. Who is Saeki Koujirou, Akira?"
"Not really."
Kamio didn't start at the voice. He'd been expecting his lover after all, and that was the other part of the knot of nerves that had tangled up in his stomach and was driving his adrenaline levels to pitch. He didn't want to talk about this. About then. But crap…Saeki Koujirou had walked in the front door. It had looked like his deceased lover, talked like him…acted like him.
Even the eyes had been Kou's. The confusion. The hurt.
Kamio cursed softly under his breath, poking absently at one bruise, and took a deep breath, steadying his temper. This was Yuushi, after all, and it wasn't Yuushi's fault.
"Hands'll be fine," he murmured, keeping his voice soft as he turned and headed over to a nearby beach to pick up a bottle of water. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd punched something until he was black and blue; at least this time, it wasn't his fist into a brick wall. He'd gone that route before once and almost shattered his wrist. "Had worse and this is better than bitching at Ry."
The redhead opened the water, and sighed. "Just jump right in the lion's den, babe," he teased half-heartedly. "Or tiger's. More appropriate."
Another breath. "Kou was someone I used to work with at the 'Hood. He died on a mission."
"I gathered as much in the foyer." Yuushi kept his voice carefully modulated, neither accusing nor backsliding. Akira was especially jumpy, and beating his fists into a pulp hadn't seemed to make a dent in his nervous, adrenaline-saturated energy.
He traced a seam in the still-swinging bag with a finger quietly. Despite his love for the younger man, dealing with Kamio Akira was sometimes difficult. Especially when he was upset and defensive. Still...the time was passing where Yuushi would sit by and allow it. He couldn't, not after what had just happened.
"He was something more than just that." Again, he didn't accuse, merely said it softly, as fact. The punching bag twirled gently under the guidance of his fingers, and he watched it rather than Akira.
"Mm...yeah, guess you would have," Kamio answered, his own tone even as he could keep it. He took a drink of the water, then closed it and set it back down on the bench. He turned a palm over, working loose the bandage and swiftly unwrapping his hands.
He winced when he saw the full extent of the bruising. He was going to need ice on them.
It would have to wait until later though. Because somehow, Kamio had expected that they'd have to this talk -- even if he wanted nothing more than to avoid it. Looking back, his time with the Brotherhood was not something he was proud of, but he'd been fourteen. Alone. And scared out of his wits after discovering he was a mutant and running away from home. They'd offered sanctuary -- sanctuary that had come with a price.
Kamio frowned. Desperate times, desperate measures, right?
Yuushi's breath held, even as the bag continued to twirl gently in the air. He'd been expecting that, waiting for the confirmation to his suspicions.
He stared at the punching bag and suddenly felt sympathetic towards it.
"...Much like we're doing now." A hundred little facts sprang into his mind at once. Akira, when they first met, practically emaciated, edgy and completely uncaring of what could happen to himself. Akira, the night Yuushi had confessed that he loved him, looking shocked...and maybe even a little guilty?
Akira in the foyer. Looking on at the Saeki double in shock, and then in furious anger.
As though life were throwing up a cruel joke in his face.
Yuushi swallowed and reminded himself to breathe normally. "Was this something I didn't want to know either?" It seemed to be one of Akira's stock answers about his past.
Staying still was hard.
It was harder when he wanted to avoid the conversation, when he wanted nothing more than to go run and run he'd exhausted himself completely. Until he collapsed and didn't have the energy to get back up and into the house. Let alone...talk.
Letting a soft breath, Kamio closed his eyes. "It's something I...didn't want to talk about," he admitted carefully, though he doubted that that was a surprise to his lover. When did Kamio want to talk about those two years before he'd met Yuushi? "I don't want to talk about it but...fuck. My dead boyfriend just walked in the front door." He scrubbed a hand over his face and tossed the towel back on the bench.
He felt he'd been slugged in the stomach. Multiple times.
"I was there, Yuushi," he began, with careful words. "We had bad intel, the whole fucking thing was a set-up."
The impulse was strong to go to Kamio and hug the speed-mutant tight. But Yuushi stayed where he was, understanding that his lover's constant energy and current mood weren't going to allow him to be held for very long.
"And he was killed? I'm so sorry, Akira...Perhaps we should have traced him, to see who sent him." There was a plethora of possibilities in Yuushi's head for the stranger's appearance, but the simplest one had to be that it was a ruse for some purpose. To try and sway Akira back to the Brotherhood, maybe? To try and gain their trust?
He would have to be a little more circumspect with his instincts now. His gut had said that the stranger wasn't a threat to them. But he wasn't infallible. And the next time he could put them all at risk.
"Yeah, lethal injury," Kamio replied, not looking at his lover. "I got him out but...not back in time. Or at least...that's what the doctors at the Hood said." He crinkled his nose and balled up one fist, pressing it into the opposite palm and hissing at the pain. Because, really...how much did he really trust those idiots.
Maybe once he had.
But all of that had changed after that mission. Everything had changed then, the next couple of months after a blur even to a so-called speed demon. He'd gone through the motions, done as he was trained to do and told, but the more he did...the less he'd cared. By the time he'd been sent to the Oshitari household, he'd honestly had little intention of going back. And at that time, there had only been one viable way out.
Kamio sighed and turned, finally just collapsing on the bench. Even if his system was still wired, he was tired and feeling off-kilter still. He rested his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling limply between and let his eyes focus on the floor. "We're going to have to do something," he agreed. "I'd like to know who set this up and what the fuck do they want."
Leaving the bag to go to his boyfriend, Yuushi kneeled in front of him. He stroked one of Kamio's arms, much in the fashion that 'Saeki' had done to him earlier, though he wasn't thinking about it.
"Could it have been the Brotherhood? It's been awhile...but they could be looking to take you back." He leaned closer, blue hair brushing red. "I want to know everything...about them. About him." Then he would know more about Kamio himself.
Kamio's arm jerked at the touch, the tension coiled inside the muscle reacting without thought on his behalf. "Fuck...sorry, babe," he murmured, balling up a fist to hold his forearm steady. "And yeah, that's what I'm wondering. I just don't have a clue why they're even bothering. Thought I was beneath their notice now or something," he groused. It had been two years, after all. "If they wanted me back...wouldn't have taken 'em this long to come after me, babe."
And if they were going to take a hit at him, again...why wait?
Raising his head, Kamio looked at his lover's face and sighed. "...fine," he agreed, reluctantly. "Where do you want me to start, babe?"
Yuushi reached up and framed Kamio's beloved face in his hands. "You can tell me from the beginning", his eyes sought to meet his lover's involuntarily shifting ones, thumbs stroking his cheeks.
"But you can start here." His voice was a whisper on Akira's lips, pressing gently against the other's in a kiss, seeking to comfort and be comforted.
I love you so much, Akira...
Kamio's eyelids fluttered shut, his pupils frantic behind them as he leaned into the kiss. It wasn't his nature to linger. Hell, it was a force of will to hold still and let his lover's lips move against his softly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he shifted one arm so that his hand could curl around the back of Yuushi's neck, fingers absently tangling in the longer strange of his hair. "Babe, I..." he breathed, uncertain.
He'd never gone into much about the Brotherhood with his lover. Vague mentions of extreme mutant-rights fanatics, but nothing detailed.
"I'm not proud of any of this," he finally conceded, using one hand to push Yuushi backwards until the other was sitting on the floor and he was straddling his lover's legs, arms around his neck and lips pressed into a harder kiss. It wasn't like he was trying to distract the other -- much -- but some part of him did want to put this off as long as possible. The same part that was a bit afraid of how Yuushi was going to react to what he was about to learn.
Still, he began, "I was fourteen when my powers showed up, babe. Full force. Parents thought I was just ADHD before that, and threw a fit when they found out I was a mutant…"
Swallowing, Kamio laid his forehead on Yuushi's shoulder and closed his eyes. It was hard to keep his voice steady as he detailed being found by a Brotherhood member after a couple of months on the street, being sent to Hokkaido for training. Then the missions started, and he was sent from Hokkaido to Kyoto, then somewhere down south until finally someone had decided he'd been needed in Tokyo, where he was assigned to work with one Saeki Koujirou. Saeki was as aggressive a flirt as he was a vicious predator, and had managed to catch the redhead's attention when Kamio tended to keep himself separate from whoever he was living with at any moment. It had been enough to get the speed mutant to slow down and notice him. Things had…developed. Kamio knew he had gotten attached.
Then that mission had happened.
He'd known. On some level, he'd known Akira's past would be riddled with pain and violence and horrible things. But to have it all laid out before him like this, with Akira practically trembling in his arms from the memories and the adrenaline racing through his system...
It was all far more than he'd expected, to tell the truth. His arms curled around Kamio, hands constantly moving over the other's back, his hair, anywhere they could reach. He was silent for a handful of moments, putting each and every fact into perspective.
"I'm so sorry, my love", he murmured, holding Kamio tighter. "I didn't understand...I'm sorry."
He wasn't being pushed away.
It was the first thing he realized as his voice tapered off. Oshitari wasn't shoving him off his lap, looking at him in disgust or terror -- and after some of things he'd done, he would understand either -- or even going still with shock. The hands on his back were moving, soothing. Kamio drew a shaking breath and pressed his forehead against the curve of Yuushi's neck.
He needed this, strange as it sometimes felt to admit it. "Told ya that ya didn't wanna know," the redhead grumbled, his voice more tired than scolding.
"I did want to know", Yuushi corrected. "And now I do. And I still love you, Akira." He held his boyfriend, brushing his cheek across the flame red locks, his own blue strands mixing in.
"Did you think I would hate you for any of that? You did. Akira...Nothing will change how I feel about you. Nothing."
"...the thought might of crossed my mind," Kamio admitted, awkward and quiet. He wouldn't have been surprised by it, after all. He'd done some nasty things in the two years he'd served the Brotherhood. He'd done them without questioning or even thought, like a good little solider in the 'war' against humanity was supposed to. And it had taken his own boyfriend's death for the redhead to open his eyes and see how utterly pointless that 'war' really was.
Though at least his eyes had been opened. He moved his hands carefully, wincing down the pain as his fingers threaded into soft blue locks. "Love you too, babe," he murmured. "Always."
The former illusionist smiled softly, pulling Kamio minutely closer. After a few moments had passed, he murmured. "And I suppose the thought that you might have left me to follow your 'dead' ex-boyfriend might have crossed my mind for just a second...can I at least say you do have good taste, Akira?" He chuckled, attempting to alleviate the dark cloud still hovering over Kamio's head.
Kamio gave a soft, low laugh himself, part of the tension inside him uncoiling rapidly. "Not gonna happen, babe," he said, pushing back enough that he could look his lover in the eyes. "Kou was…" He paused and shook his head. "We were still kids, babe. We hadn't worked out what we really wanted from each other yet, ya know? Fuck…I was the twins' age when he died."
Which was a disturbing thought, Kamio sighed. He felt a lot older than he really was. "But, yeah…he was fucking gorgeous. Come to think of it, so's my current boyfriend." The redhead smirked cockily. "Guess I do have damn good taste. Though…I gotta wonder about something that guy said," he admitted.
He had to wonder about a lot of things, really, mostly the why's and who's of the situation. Yet something was nagging at him. Inhaling deeply, Kamio leveled his own serious gaze at his lover.
"What the fuck did he mean when he called me the Black Knight?"
"Perhaps you seemed too dark to be my white knight?" Yuushi's lame attempt at humor fell flat, and he sighed looking at Akira's stony expression.
"I hadn't anticipated he would know quite so much..." And really, Yuushi hadn't intended on letting Kamio know about the Hellfire Club. Most especially, his own private faction of it. There were dangers in playing both sides of the field, in manipulating people and events. Dangers he didn't want his lover exposed to, no matter his past. And there was that he didn't want Akira to feel obligated, or affiliated against his wishes.
Yes, it was foolish. But Yuushi knew he was illogically overprotective when it came down to a handful of people closest to him. His father, the twins, Shishido and Fuji, Atobe and Tezuka...and Kamio Akira.
"Are you sure you want to know?"
"...didn't we just have this conversation in reverse?" Kamio asked back, tilting his head to the side and frowning slightly. "Babe, 'm not gonna ask something I don't want to know."
Yuushi sighed. It wasn't as though he could deny his lover anything. He didn't want Akira to think that he didn't trust him implicitly.
And, he'd always believed that information for information was a fair enough trade.
"He was right about only one thing." Yuushi leaned back on his hands, looking Akira in the eye as he spoke. "I am the Black King."
"Ryou and Atsushi are my Black Rooks. Together, we are the Inner Circle of the Hellfire Club." He went on with a brief description of the Hellfire Club, why his father had established the Tokyo branch, the circumstances that had led to Yuushi creating his own faction within it.
Kamio clenched and unclenched one fist as he listened, the rhythmic movement enough to help him focus on staying still for a little bit longer. It was...not as bad as anything he'd done, if one was looking at comparisons. Intrigue and espionage seemed better suited to it.
Though Kamio knew what the twins were, potentially, capable of. He'd trained them.
Which didn't leave him feeling easier about anything his boyfriend was telling him. Sure, it was mostly information, but Kamio knew for a fact: people would kill over information. The same as anything else.
The redhead inhaled and twisted his hand, keeping up the steady movement as he closed his eyes. "Fuck, babe," the redhead sighed.
"Right now, it's not as dangerous as it sounds." Yuushi looked down and watched that hand for a moment. "I've merely been keeping the scales balanced. If Tomihana and X-Prime become lax, I find things to keep them occupied. If the Brotherhood or other militant factions are about to create too much chaos, I leak what information I can through Shishido to stop them. I keep an eye on what's happening politically and use what influence I have to prevent them passing any definitive mutant legislation. Their attempts so far have been...laughable."
"And I'm sure you've always wondered just what it is I'm doing in my office all the time." He smiled wryly, brushing some of Kamio's hair from his face. Then he sobered. "Nothing has to change, Akira, by you knowing all this. You don't have to be involved."
"Babe, you're playing Sakaki. Trust me. It is dangerous," the redhead corrected softly. He didn't know the man well, but he'd been around those he'd trained. And if they were any indication of Sakaki's attitude…
Suffice to say, he didn't want his boyfriend caught in that kind of crossfire.
Kamio couldn't help but smirk a little and lean into the other's touch as his hair was brushed aside. "I've got an active imagination, babe," he pointed out. "I've come up with some ideas when I've actually thought about it." Nothing close to the truth, of course, but that was to Yuushi' credit as to how well he'd kept this from the redhead.
"Mmm…didn't think it was going to but I already am, babe. Kinda," he added thoughtfully. "I'm guessing part of the crap I train the twins in isn't just for bodyguard duty."
Not if he knew the younger boys as well as he thought he did.
Though really, that was for the best if they were going to be involved in something like this. It just meant Kamio might have to adjust their training a bit, make sure that the two of them had every possible trick -- even the things he'd held back -- at their disposal. Approve or not, he didn't want either of them at more risk than need be. He wasn't going to make the same mistakes again.
Not with his lover or his charges.
Speaking of which, blue eyes opened and studied the man he sat on. "I'm not sure I want to be more involved, babe," he admitted. "Not…right now. Not with all this other shit." He sighed, pulled his face away from the other's palm. "But if this is the type of stuff you're involved in. Fuck, babe. The twins are good at what they do. Best damn bodyguards you probably could of found. But they aren't always around you, Yuu. I'm not either. And your powers...babe, you can't depend on them to help you," he groused.
Appeasing his lover was farther up Yuushi's list of priorities than the slight annoyance at being found lacking in any way. Or being compared to Sakaki, who, by all accounts he'd heard so far, wasn't someone he wanted to be in the same room with, much less emulate.
"I'm sorry for that, then", he replied. "I don't want you feeling obligated to do anything or have anything to do with the Inner Circle if you don't want. You can still train us all as you see fit." He kissed Kamio's lips gently. "Don't worry so much. I don't intend on putting any of us in danger."
"I know you don't, babe," Kamio murmured in reply, lips brushing against Oshitari's. "And I'm not saying you can't handle it. But I'm still gonna worry, ya know?" It wasn't like he could ever stop worrying, not with his speed and the heightened sense of nerves that his power caused.
And the biggest concern eating at him? Oshitari's lack of power. It was entirely not his lover's fault, but it stripped the other mutant of something vital. And while Tomihana seemed more than tolerant of the psis whose powers were disrupted by the astral plane, certain members of the Brotherhood would probably be other stories.
He didn't want to tell his lover that they'd view him as weak. Which meant, without his powers, Oshitari needed another way to fight back.
"Look, ease my mind a bit, babe?" he suggested, turning the idea over in his mind. "Your fencing's great to keep you in shape and stuff, but…it's not gonna save your life, babe." And he'd made this fuck-up before, assuming what the other knew would be enough, not pushing for more when his gut his told him to.
He wasn't going to make it again.
Pulling himself off his lover's lap, Kamio grabbed Oshitari's hands to help the other stand as well. "Let me train you, Yuu. Like I do the twins."
Kamio's proposal made perfect, logical sense. Yuushi knew this, knew that with his crippled power he should seek other ways to defend himself.
As good as the twins were, no one was infallible, after all.
And it wasn't that he was against it, by any means. He couldn't find an argument opposed to it. And, he had to wonder, why he was interested in looking for one?
Maybe Fuji and Shishido were right when they told him he was lazy.
He stood, keeping Akira's hands tucked into his own, feeling how small and powerful they were, even shaking with adrenaline. And, looking into his lover's eyes, smiled.
"Does this mean I'll have to get out of bed early from now on?"