Gift fic for mazauric: Dead or Alive (1/3)
Title: Dead or Alive
Written For: mazauric
Pairing: Akame
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~18,000
Warnings: None
Author’s Note: Hi Mazauric! I think I managed to incorporate a number of your preferred story elements. Hope this meets with your approval… :-)
Summary: AU. Kame’s got a job to do, but the past keeps getting in the way.
You can also read this story at the AO3.
Dead or Alive
Kame is glad he won’t have to stay long.
There’s a stream of black cars and limousines pulling in and out of the circular drive, and the pavement is slick with the afternoon’s rain, except where the portico has kept it dry. Two men and two women with slicked hair in dark dresses and tuxedos stand to either side of the entrance, bowing and welcoming the guests as they unfold themselves from their cars in flashes of glitter and silk. Kame falls in step behind a woman in powder blue with a fox fur stole, nodding distractedly at the man who opens the door for them. Just enough not to be noticed.
Once inside, the woman and her escort wander off to the left to deposit her fox fur at the coat check. Kame stays with the current of people making their way to the other side of the entryway, into the main ballroom.
The house has a slightly colonial feel-that strange mixture of old European grandeur and Southeast Asian detail. The walls of the ballroom have been whitewashed and the chandeliers look smart and modern, but the marble mosaic floor seems too intricate to be new. Along one wall of the room are long trestle tables laid out with food in silver serving dishes, and along the opposite wall sits a string quartet, serenading the room underneath the hum of conversation. Kame accepts a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and dips in between a pair of sequined dresses, surveying the crowd.
So far there’s no one who should recognize him. He knows Tsai by sight from the briefings, but he hasn’t come across him yet. The chief of police is also here, along with a couple of former colleagues of Tsai’s from XS Group. Most of the other guests are unfamiliar, other esteemed members of the Hong Kong elite.
For the first half hour or so, Kame keeps a low profile, making small talk with a few of the guests and trying to remain as forgettable as possible. When it seems like enough people have gathered to keep him inconspicuous, Kame politely excuses himself from a conversation about Hong Kong’s chances in the East Asian Cup and makes his way to the edge of the room. He leaves his barely touched champagne on one of the tables and slips through a door that leads into one of the inner corridors.
There are staff everywhere in here, rushing back and forth with trays and piles of dishes, disappearing into the side passageway that leads to the kitchens, exchanging quick words as they pass each other in one direction or another. Kame pulls a cigarette lighter from his front pocket and glances around as though looking for the exit. The staff take no notice of him as he wanders off down another one of the side corridors, into quieter parts of the house. By the time he reaches the end and turns left toward the back staircase, it’s almost silent.
The schematic in his head must be a couple of renovations old-he ends up in a dead end once where there should be a connection to the eastern wing of the house, and one or two of the bedrooms aren’t where they should be. He steps lightly, listening around every corner-the floorboards are old, which is both an advantage and a disadvantage. Harder to stay silent, but easier to hear someone coming.
No one does.
Finally, he reaches the eastern atrium. The dim corridor opens out into another large entrance hall-the family’s private entrance-and overlooks the open floor below. Things look a little less shiny and polished at this end of the house. The chandelier is a generation or two older than the ones in the main ballroom, and the wooden bannister surrounding the upper floor of the atrium feels worn smooth under Kame’s fingers.
He listens from the shadows for a moment. Tsai and his wife should both still be at the party, and as far as he can tell there’s no one else but the staff who should be hanging around the private wing. And presumably most of them are occupied with the party as well. When he’s satisfied that he’s alone, he takes the left-hand route around the atrium and follows it almost to the end.
The door is locked, as expected. He drops silently to a knee and takes his pick from his pocket, sliding it into the battered keyhole and feeling for the tumblers. It’s an old lock, hardly complicated. Soon the last one slides into place and the lock clicks, the handle turning reluctantly in its socket.
It’s dark inside as well. All the windows overlook the grounds, and they might be visible from the other end of the house, so he can’t risk turning on a light. But as his eyes adjust, there’s just enough ambient light filtering in to be able to get around. He won’t get out his pocket light unless it’s absolutely necessary.
There’s a laptop computer sitting on the desk, and Kame steps over to it, running his fingertips along the corner of the screen. He’s going to have to… but. Maybe not quite yet. He needs to get a look at the rest of the room too, and on the off-chance Tsai is anticipating a hack…
Better to start somewhere else.
The bookshelf first then, because it’s there, and Tsai seems the type. He’s pretty sure Tsai doesn’t have the key yet, but if he does then he’d be unlikely to hide it in the filing cabinets. Assuming he hasn’t already passed it on.
Kame pulls books aside a few at a time, picking random volumes and checking to see that their titles match their contents and that they don’t have any hidden compartments. Most of them seem to be for show. Eventually he moves aside a shelf of historical texts to reveal a small safe embedded in one panel of the wood.
Perfect.
He’s just about to start picking the lock when he hears a floorboard creak just outside the door.
He replaces the books and silently backs up against the wall beside the breakfront cabinet, keeping it between him and the door. He hears the handle turning, the bottom of the door brushing against the rug. The lights will come on any moment-he starts gauging whether his reflection in the window glass will be visible at that angle, if he should try to slide to the floor first…
But the light stays off.
There’s a footstep, a soft scuff against the floorboards, and he sees the vague shape of someone else stepping over to the desk. Flicking through a few pages of the stack of paper next to the computer, and then quietly replacing them.
Over in the corner, past the couch, there’s another exit-but it leads into a sitting room, and it might have a lock as well. That would leave him exposed. The desk is between him and the doorway into the atrium-he could make a run for it, but unless the other intruder has very slow reflexes, that would be a mistake.
Another shifting creak-a footstep closer, approaching the breakfront. Just a breath away now.
Now.
He launches himself around the corner of the breakfront and leads with an elbow, catching bone, a grunt, deflecting a counterpunch. The breakfront shudders, glass decorations clinking gently against each other, grasping fingers and a huff of breath when an elbow catches Kame in the stomach. He gets the intruder by the collar and shoves him up against the wall, pulls the gun from the back of his own belt and presses it up against the intruder’s chin. The intruder stills, hands open in submission. Lifts his chin a bit, hot breath against Kame’s face.
It’s Jin.
Fuck.
Jin’s eyes say the same thing.
Kame shoves back, gets his distance. Gets a second hand on the gun, just to steady it. Steady.
What the fuck?
“What are you doing here?” he demands, keeping his voice low, the gun trained between Jin’s eyebrows. Jin stays there against the wall, catching his breath, his hands still held up at his sides. Doesn’t look like he’s planning anything, but then you never fucking know.
Jin gives the gun a pointed look. “You can shoot me if you want,” he says. “But have fun explaining the bleeding corpse you left in this dude’s house.”
“I said what are you doing here?” Kame repeats, keeping the gun right where it is.
“Probably the same thing as you,” Jin says grimly.
Kame frowns.
How does he… How would he even know about this? Why would he care?
Unless…
“Who are you working for?”
“Nobody,” Jin says.
“Bullshit,” Kame hisses.
Jin breathes a bitter laugh. “Why bother asking me questions if you’re not going to believe the answers?”
He doesn’t even look mocking. Just resigned. It makes Kame want to slam him up against that wall again. Harder.
Fucking hell.
Another door slams. Further away, somewhere outside.
They both freeze, listening to footsteps in the atrium-high heels on the polished stone, sharp and echoing. They don’t get any closer though, fade and muffle as they head off into another part of the house.
There’s no time for this.
Kame drops his aim to his side. If Jin is telling the truth, then maybe Kame can at least make use of him. If he’s lying…
Well. If he’s lying, Kame is probably already fucked.
It will be faster with two of them anyway. Kame just needs to watch his back.
“If you’re so sure we’re looking for the same thing, then help me look,” Kame says.
Jin lowers his hands slowly, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. Even in the dark, his eyes are somehow warm.
Kame turns away from them.
“Have you gotten onto the hard drive?” Jin asks, stepping away from the wall and back over toward the desk.
Kame slips the gun back under his jacket. “Not yet,” he says. “I was going to check for the physical media first.”
Jin nods and takes a seat at the desk, starts booting the machine to command line. Kame takes a step closer and watches over Jin’s shoulder as Jin starts working his way past the security barriers. He’s managed to gain root access within a couple of minutes-not that Tsai is any kind of computer genius, it’s not surprising that his personal computer’s security would be full of holes, but still. Kame had forgotten Jin was so fast at this.
The letters and numbers on the screen stop moving for a moment, and Kame blinks, wondering why. He glances over at Jin to find him looking back at him, just inches away. Kame isn’t sure when he leaned in so close.
He straightens up again.
“Let me know if you find anything,” he says brusquely. Then he steps away. Tries to remember what he was doing before… before Jin.
Fucking hell.
The safe. He was working on the safe.
It’s not the kind of state-of-the-art hardware Kame would have expected from a guy like this, a guy with billions to spare, but then it’s also built into the furnishings-like the office itself, it seems to be from a renovation or two ago. Still, it’s well maintained and awkwardly placed, so it takes him some time to start making progress, turning the dial carefully and feeling his way through the combination.
“I’m in,” Jin mutters from across the room. Kame glances over at him, but his eyes are still focused on the screen. “There’s not much on here, mostly shit we don’t care about. If he has the file, it must be somewhere else. I can try a few more things, see if he tried to crack it earlier and left traces somewhere.”
“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” Kame asks.
Jin looks up at him. “I know what I’m looking for,” he says flatly. “Do you want to tell me what you’re looking for?”
“Nevermind,” Kame says. He catches Jin’s eyes flicking irritably before he turns back to his work.
He’s almost got the safe open, he can feel it in his fingertips. Just one more.
“Shit. I think I’ve got something,” Jin says.
“What?” Kame turns the wheel a little bit farther, feels the click.
“I don’t know, it’s-hang on, let me just…”
The door to the safe swings free, and Kame peers inside. It’s too dark to see much, but he reaches in and pulls things out carefully-a stack of passports, an old, worn out notebook. A few stacks of large banknotes, with sequential numbers.
Kame replaces the cash-no need for that-but he starts leafing through the passports and the notebook to see if there’s anything that might be useful. A few of the identities in the passports are familiar from the briefing, but some of them are new to him. He snaps pictures of the unfamiliar ones for future reference.
Most of what’s in the notebook is uninteresting-even unintelligible, without context. Financial accountings, scribbled details of transactions. Some of it might be of interest to Tsai’s former employers, things they would probably prefer he had not written down. But Kame doesn’t have any interest in that.
He gets to the end of the used pages in the notebook-nothing of consequence. He’s about to close it up and put it away, but he gives it one last flick through and realizes there’s something written on the second to last page of the book. Small and sideways, near the inner corner. A messy scrawl.
8.4
6734
090-5454-3782
Just that.
The last line is a Japanese phone number. Not one that means anything offhand, but the fact that it’s Japanese seems potentially relevant. XS Group never did business there directly, and as far as he knows, Tsai has done no private business there either.
Or he hadn’t, until recently.
“Fuck,” Jin whispers.
Kame turns around, but Jin’s attention is elsewhere. Looking. Listening. Kame listens too-and then he hears…
Shit. Footsteps-this time, on the upper floor.
Jin is moving quickly at the computer, trying to shut everything down, and Kame has to put the passports and the notebook back where he found them. He closes the safe quietly and spins the dial, puts the books back in front of it.
Jin yanks a flash drive from the side of the laptop and gets up from the desk. Kame heads directly for the door that leads to the sitting room.
Locked. Of course.
As Kame drops into a crouch and feeds the pick into the lock, Jin starts feeling around the hinges, checking to see if there’s a faster way to get through.
“Did you get it?” Kame whispers.
“I think so. Shit.” He’s fingering the lower hinge. “This thing is like rusted together.”
“I’ll get it,” Kame says. “Just give me a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute.”
“Shut up and let me do this.”
Finally the lock comes free. There isn’t time to be cautious-whoever’s out there is right outside the office. They barely have time to duck through and get the door shut behind them before a light appears in the crack underneath.
The sitting room is dark. Nothing but a dim flicker of moonlight falls across Jin’s face as he glances over at Kame. Kame knows that look.
What now?
Kame gestures with his head toward the other door, which leads back out to the hallway. Then he grabs Jin by the elbow and leads him around the coffee table, keeping him close. Kame twists the handle carefully, just enough to confirm that the door isn’t locked, but leaves it closed.
He listens for a beat-but the only sounds of movement are still coming from the office. Then he opens the door, just a crack. Peers outside.
Nothing.
He opens it a bit further and glances around the corner. The door to the office seems to be closed again, and there’s no one visible anywhere around the atrium, or as far as he can see down the corridor.
He tugs on Jin’s arm again briefly, a silent signal to stay close, and then he slips out into the corridor.
The entrance down in the atrium is no good-the stone floor is too loud, and too close to the office. They’d never get out undetected. He turns instead down another side corridor and follows it to the far end, where the schematics tell him there should be a narrow stairway leading down from the old servants’ quarters. Unless it’s been eliminated in the renovations…
It’s still there.
It’s narrow, tucked away out of sight, and they’ll be completely screwed if anyone tries to come up while they’re going down-but at least it gets them downstairs. Then it’s only two more corridors before they reach the door leading into the maintenance garage.
The garage is dark as well, littered with obstacles-stacks of crates and gardening equipment. Kame latches onto Jin’s arm again to lead him through the maze, until finally they reach the side door leading out to the grounds.
Jin sticks close behind him as they dart out around the wide balcony, into the shadow of the first hedgerow. It keeps them out of sight of the house for several meters, long enough to get some distance. Kame pauses briefly at the far end to glance back toward the east wing.
The light is still on in the office. But there’s no sign that any alarm bells have gone off, that any manhunt is taking place. And the curtains are still closed. He can’t see anyone in there.
Once he’s sure they’re not being followed, he leads Jin across the open field and into the tree cover that shields the house from the main road, and follows the driveway from the shadows until they make it back out to the highway.
They need a ride. A taxi, ideally, but Kame would settle for a hitch. The road is narrow and winding, surrounded by trees on either side, and even the lights of the city below are hidden from this angle.
He reaches for Jin’s arm again, but this time only passes through air.
What? How did he…?
Glancing around quickly, he finds Jin about twenty feet away, heading up the road and slipping between the trees. Son of a bitch…
Kame pulls the gun again. “Not another step.”
Jin stops in his tracks, stumbling slightly on the uneven ground.
“Get back here,” Kame says. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
There’s a small sigh, but Jin complies. He turns around and lifts his hands to shoulder height again, walking tamely back to Kame’s side.
“Control freak,” he grumbles, giving the gun a disdainful look.
“Shut up,” Kame says, grabbing him firmly by the arm and leading him in the other direction, towards the city. If Jin is here, somebody sent him. Kame can’t let him disappear without knowing who, much less with the damn flash drive in his pocket. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“How romantic,” Jin intones. Kame ignores him. He slips the gun into his coat pocket in case any cars should come by, but he keeps a hand on it to discourage Jin from trying to disappear again. Jin lowers his hands to his sides, but he doesn’t fight Kame’s grip at his elbow or make any attempts to escape.
Every once in a while he can feel Jin giving him the side eye, like he’s looking for a way in, to start a conversation. But Kame won’t engage.
What is there to say that wasn’t worth saying two years ago?
They walk in silence for about half a mile before things start to look like civilization again, the lights of Hong Kong winking at them across the ridge. Eventually Kame manages to flag down a passing cab and bribe the driver to accept their fare. He keeps the gun in his pocket and a hand on Jin’s elbow the whole way.
Within thirty minutes they’re pulling up in front of Kame’s hotel. Jin gives him a sidelong glance, but makes no protests when Kame escorts him from the car and leads him through the elegant lobby into the elevator bay.
There’s a couple in eveningwear in the elevator with them-a young woman and an older man, her hand resting lightly in the crook of his elbow. Kame releases Jin’s elbow for the moment, but lets it linger in the small of Jin’s back, out of sight. A subtle reminder.
The couple stays on the elevator when they get off, and Kame leads Jin all the way down to the end of the corridor, their feet silent on the carpet.
As soon as they’re inside the room, Kame tightens his grip on Jin’s arm and the back of Jin’s jacket and slams him up against the door, face first, one hand fisted between his shoulder blades and the barrel of the gun against the back of his skull.
“You ready to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here yet?”
Jin pants slightly, wincing at the pressure, but he doesn’t make any moves to fight back. “I told you,” he mumbles against the door. “I’m here for the same reason you are.”
“Bullshit,” Kame spits.
“You can keep saying that, but it won’t change the answer.”
“Hands,” Kame orders, jerking the fist at Jin’s collar. “Behind your back.”
Jin acquiesces, bends his arms and crosses his wrists in the small of his back. Kame leans away slightly to avoid allowing Jin’s fingers to brush against his stomach, and watches Jin’s hands settle. Keeping his eyes on Jin’s back, on everywhere he might make a move, Kame sets the gun on top of the dresser and reaches for the drawer. There’s a pair of handcuffs tucked between his undershirts, and he pulls them out. Clasps them over one wrist, then the other.
There’s a little shudder in Jin’s breath. Just for a moment.
Kame feels it too-needs a breath to get past it, the way it echoes. Muscle memory.
But that was before.
This is now.
When the handcuffs are secure, he grabs the gun off the dresser and backs off again, keeping it pointed at Jin. “Turn around,” he says. “Slowly.”
Jin does. His eyes stay on the gun as he twists around, presses himself back up against the door. “You’re more paranoid than I remember,” he comments, gesturing his chin toward the gun.
“A lot’s happened since then,” Kame says.
Jin tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement. But then he pulls at the cuffs, metal rubbing against the wood. “Still. Can you point that thing somewhere else? I think you’ve got me.”
Kame considers this for a moment. It’s true that Jin doesn’t seem to be trying to escape anymore. And even if he were, he was never much good at picking locks.
Kame lowers the gun to his side. Keeps it handy though.
“How did you know I would be here?”
“I didn’t,” Jin says. “I wasn’t looking for you.”
“Stop lying to me,” Kame warns.
“It’s the truth. If I’d known you would be here I would have made sure we met somewhere else.”
Kame narrows eyes at him. “Like where?”
“Here is good,” Jin says, lips twitching slightly.
Fucking bastard.
“Don’t,” Kame snaps. “You don’t get to do that with me anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because. You lost that privilege when you fucked me over.”
“I didn’t fuck anybody over,” Jin insists.
“Didn’t you? Then what would you call it.”
Jin’s eyes flicker, choosing words. Choosing lies. “I had something I needed to do, and I did it. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you with me.”
Kame takes two steps closer and grabs Jin by the hair, pulls his head back sharply against the door. “Don’t. You don’t talk to me about that. Ever.”
Jin looks down at him, eyes dark, breath quaking slightly. Swallows. To anyone else it would look like fear. Kame knows better.
He puts the gun on the dresser again. Keeps the hand in Jin’s hair, and reaches for the breast pocket of Jin’s jacket. Slips his fingers inside.
Nothing. Nothing in the lining of the pocket either, or the corners.
He tries the collar of the jacket next, feels underneath the starched panels. Jin’s breath quickens when Kame’s fingers slide underneath the jacket collar, over his collarbones, but he holds very still. Presses his lips together. Kame ignores him, moving on to the seams around Jin’s shoulders, the jacket pockets at his hips.
Jin twitches when Kame’s hands slide inside the jacket pockets, feel around near his belt.
Nothing in there either.
He brings his hands up to the lapels again and pushes the jacket off Jin’s shoulders, down his trapped arms. Feels Jin’s breath stutter against his cheek, but ignores it.
This is just business.
Then he slips his hands around Jin’s sides to feel down the center of his back, under his arms again, all along the seams. It brings them too close, too warm underneath his fingers, against Kame’s chest-but Kame focuses on the seams, tracing the line of Jin’s spine and finding no foreign objects, nothing hidden there. Then he pulls back again and reaches for the shirt collar. Jin twitches and swallows when he yanks it open a few buttons and checks around the inside, where the collar meets his shoulders.
Nothing there.
It’s the belt next-he doesn’t have to undo it, just pull the shirt out from underneath it and run his fingers along the inside edge. There’s a sharp intake of breath when Kame’s fingers skim against Jin’s stomach, pull at the belt buckle to see if anything is hidden underneath-but Kame refuses to look up at him. Doesn’t want to see his face. He keeps his body from touching Jin’s as he slides his hands into the back pants pockets and checks all the corners, then follows the belt around to the front and searches the front pockets.
He knows it’s there. Even if the bulge in the front of Jin’s pants weren’t obvious, there’s no way he’d miss the signs. Jin was never good at hiding that.
It could be accidental when the fingertips of his right hand brush against it from inside the pocket-he’s not sure. But it twitches against them, and there’s another sharp intake of breath.
Then the fingers of his left hand close around the flash drive, and he pulls both hands back out.
He looks up at Jin as he pockets the drive. Jin’s eyes are dark, but impassive. He doesn’t open his mouth. Doesn’t seem to breathe.
Next, Kame gets all the way down on the floor and feels around Jin’s ankles, inside his shoes. He skims fingers down along the outer seam of Jin’s black slacks, over muscle and bone, and then back up along the inseam. Jin holds very still as Kame’s hands approach the center, but there’s a quickly stifled groan when Kame palms his erection. On purpose this time, but efficient-no room for politeness here. Kame feels around it, feels the twitch of Jin’s hips as they press involuntarily into his grip-but Kame won’t care, won’t take, won’t give him anything, won’t make this about more than it is. Just business.
His hand falls away.
There are no blades. No guns, no picks, no weapons or tools of any kind, nothing but the flash drive. That seems… unusual.
Slowly he gets to his feet again. He feels a bit lightheaded, a bit unsteady, but he tries not to show it. He should step away now, he’s got what he needed. Jin doesn’t have anything on him, he won’t be able to free himself. He should step away.
Jin’s breath is shallow, his eyes on Kame every minute, and he’s not even pretending he wants distance, wants space. He wants touch, wants Kame’s hand again, wants close.
It could be a trap. Kame knows that. He’s fallen before.
Kame’s hand finds its way into Jin’s hair again, and Jin’s lips part, just slightly. A little breath.
It’s too easy. Jin makes it too easy.
Just a little twist of his wrist, a gentle tug, and Jin’s knees are collapsing underneath him. He’s sliding down to the floor, a heavy weight pressed between Kame’s shin and the door. His eyes close for a moment, his head tilted back, and then they open. Look up at him, dark and steady.
There’s a little twitch of Jin’s hips, pushing up against Kame’s leg, just slightly. Kame tightens his fist in Jin’s hair again, and Jin’s mouth falls open with a soundless sigh, another little twitch.
Fuck.
He can’t be blamed for it. Jin is… Jin.
Kame goes for his belt with his free hand, still keeping a firm grip in Jin’s hair. He can see Jin’s breath quicken when he reaches in, pulls himself out, already mostly hard. Jin’s mouth lets him in deep, closes around him immediately. Starts to suck.
It takes a few thrusts for Kame to find his balance, braced against the door, Jin hard against his ankle and tight around his cock. It’s too deep once or twice, he can feel Jin flinch and gag, but he doesn’t protest-just keeps it tight, his hips twitching against Kame’s leg. Kame can see his arm muscles working underneath the rumpled white shirt, twisting and pulling against the restraints-but he’s held fast, nothing to do but suck, breath coming hard through his nose, tongue sliding clumsily underneath.
Kame can’t remember the last time he was this hard. The last time it felt this good. Jin moans around him, struggling for breath, straining to stay on top of it. Kame strokes the base a couple of times, where Jin can’t reach, and then pushes deep again. No flinch this time, Jin is ready for him. Another hum in Jin’s throat, and Jin’s mouth, Jin’s fucking mouth…god…he’s so…
Another tight thrust and then it washes over him, through him-pulsing, knees weak. He feels the swallow, Jin breathing around it-Jin’s mouth hot, stretched and taking it, swallowing it all. Jin’s hair clutched between his fingers, couldn’t escape now if he wanted to. No choice. Serves him right.
When Kame pulls back, Jin lets him slip out. Kame looks down at him and watches him lick his lips, panting, eyes closed tight. His dick is still straining inside his pants, his hips still pressed against Kame’s ankle as he tries to catch his breath.
Kame inches his foot back back, and Jin gives a sob. Pushes his hips out farther, but Kame’s still got him pinned by his hair. He can’t reach.
“Please,” Jin gasps, arms twisting against the cuffs again. Kame thinks about letting him have one of his hands back, letting him jerk himself off at Kame’s feet.
Thinks about leaving him here to wallow, soaked in sweat and hard all night, begging to come.
But he decides to take pity.
He gets down on his knees in front of Jin, keeping Jin’s shoulders pinned back against the door. He undoes the belt buckle, slowly, and then the button, and the zip. Jin moans when he reaches delicately inside Jin’s underwear and pulls him free. Just with his fingertips. Not enough.
He strokes a knuckle lightly along the underside of Jin’s rigid cock, and Jin slams his head back against the door. “Oh fuck, please…”
“Please what?” Kame says. He runs a fingertip over the head, through the trail of moisture there.
“Please let me come,” Jin gasps.
Kame toys with his head a little bit more-and then he wraps his hand firmly around the end of Jin’s dick, his other hand finding its grip in Jin’s hair again. “Okay,” Kame says. “Come then.”
Immediately Jin’s muscles start working, hips pushing up and into Kame’s grip, breath harsh and strained, little moans seeping out. “Tighter,” Jin says, and Kame complies, but still doesn’t join in the rhythm. Lets Jin fucking work for it.
Faster and harder, and Kame can tell Jin’s strength is giving out when he falls off the rhythm-but he still doesn’t give in.
Finally there’s a strangled cry, and Jin’s body goes rigid with it, pulsing, white and sticky over Kame’s fingers, on the floor, on Kame’s dark slacks. He flicks his wrist once, twice to keep it going, make Jin shiver again, until he finally groans and slumps, boneless against the door.
Kame lets go of Jin’s shrinking dick and reaches for the collar of Jin’s shirt. Jin twitches when he tugs it open further, wipes the come off his hand.
Jin’s eyes are closed, his breathing labored, but there’s a little fragment of a smile tugging on his lips. He lifts his chin again, takes a deeper breath, and meets Kame’s eyes. He’s closer than Kame realized.
“I’ve missed you,” Jin says. His voice is low and intimate, and Kame feels it deep in his gut, echoing through years and other bedrooms.
He swallows. The pull is almost magnetic, but he won’t fall. Not again.
Kame gets to his feet and tucks his dick back into his pants. Peels out of his shirt, which is covered in sweat and other things, and drops it on the floor. He digs through the dresser drawer and finds the keys to the handcuffs, kneels down next to Jin again and tugs his arms to the side so he can reach his wrists.
He tries not to touch him too much, avoids his gaze.
“You trust me now?” Jin says, eyebrows arching.
“If you fuck me over again, I’ll kill you in your sleep,” Kame says. “The bathroom is that way.” He nods toward the door opposite, and then turns back to the dresser to start looking for a fresh pair of pants.
“Thanks,” Jin says, working the stiffness out of his shoulders.
When Kame doesn’t answer, he pushes himself to his feet and makes his way into the bathroom. The door closes behind him. After a moment, Kame hears the shower turn on.
Alone in the bedroom, Kame sits down on the edge of the bed and digs both hands into his hair, scrubbing at his scalp and squeezing his eyes shut. Listens to the water hitting the tile in the bathroom, and Jin’s feet against the floor.
This is going to complicate everything.
But, okay. It’s okay, he can deal with this. He can keep it professional, get what he needs from Jin and complete the mission. If he’s being honest with himself, he knows he would never have had time to break into the computer before he was interrupted if Jin hadn’t shown up-and that would have meant a much riskier secondary operation. Jin might not be his partner anymore, but he can still be useful if Kame can just keep him under control.
Keep both of them under control.
He can do this.
He pulls his secure cell phone from the top drawer of the nightstand and dials the check-in number from memory. As he enters his security codes in sequence, he pulls the digital camera out of his pocket and starts flicking through what he’s got.
“You’re late,” Ueda answers, before Kame’s said a word.
“I ran into some trouble,” Kame says. “Took longer than expected.”
“Yeah, we thought you might. Nakamaru wanted to give you a heads up, but we were afraid of blowing your cover.”
The jolt hits him harder than expected, questions racing through his mind. “You knew about this?”
“Yeah. I mean, we don’t have a lot of detail, but we got word earlier this evening that there’s someone else on the trail.”
“Do you know who he’s working for?”
“Nope,” Ueda says. “We’re still following up on a few things, but so far all the leads have come up empty.” There’s typing in the background, but then it stops. “Wait. ‘He’? Did you actually run into this guy? Can you tell us anything about him?”
Kame stops. So… they didn’t know then. In a way it’s a relief, but…
He glances over at the closed bathroom door.
It’s not his job to protect Jin-not anymore. If he tells them, Jin will be out of his hair in hours, maybe sooner. What they do with him is not Kame’s problem. Whatever he knows, they’ll get it out of him.
There’s sound from the bathroom, the gentle rhythm of water hitting the glass door, shifting as Jin moves under the stream.
“No,” Kame says. “I mean, I saw that it was a man, but I didn’t get a good look at him.”
“Hmm,” Ueda murmurs. “Well, that’s something, I guess. Anything else?”
Kame turns his eyes away from the bathroom door. Tries to put unnecessary thoughts out of his head.
“Yes,” he says. “Yeah, I need you to look up a phone number for me…”
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
Part 2
Written For: mazauric
Pairing: Akame
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~18,000
Warnings: None
Author’s Note: Hi Mazauric! I think I managed to incorporate a number of your preferred story elements. Hope this meets with your approval… :-)
Summary: AU. Kame’s got a job to do, but the past keeps getting in the way.
You can also read this story at the AO3.
Dead or Alive
Kame is glad he won’t have to stay long.
There’s a stream of black cars and limousines pulling in and out of the circular drive, and the pavement is slick with the afternoon’s rain, except where the portico has kept it dry. Two men and two women with slicked hair in dark dresses and tuxedos stand to either side of the entrance, bowing and welcoming the guests as they unfold themselves from their cars in flashes of glitter and silk. Kame falls in step behind a woman in powder blue with a fox fur stole, nodding distractedly at the man who opens the door for them. Just enough not to be noticed.
Once inside, the woman and her escort wander off to the left to deposit her fox fur at the coat check. Kame stays with the current of people making their way to the other side of the entryway, into the main ballroom.
The house has a slightly colonial feel-that strange mixture of old European grandeur and Southeast Asian detail. The walls of the ballroom have been whitewashed and the chandeliers look smart and modern, but the marble mosaic floor seems too intricate to be new. Along one wall of the room are long trestle tables laid out with food in silver serving dishes, and along the opposite wall sits a string quartet, serenading the room underneath the hum of conversation. Kame accepts a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and dips in between a pair of sequined dresses, surveying the crowd.
So far there’s no one who should recognize him. He knows Tsai by sight from the briefings, but he hasn’t come across him yet. The chief of police is also here, along with a couple of former colleagues of Tsai’s from XS Group. Most of the other guests are unfamiliar, other esteemed members of the Hong Kong elite.
For the first half hour or so, Kame keeps a low profile, making small talk with a few of the guests and trying to remain as forgettable as possible. When it seems like enough people have gathered to keep him inconspicuous, Kame politely excuses himself from a conversation about Hong Kong’s chances in the East Asian Cup and makes his way to the edge of the room. He leaves his barely touched champagne on one of the tables and slips through a door that leads into one of the inner corridors.
There are staff everywhere in here, rushing back and forth with trays and piles of dishes, disappearing into the side passageway that leads to the kitchens, exchanging quick words as they pass each other in one direction or another. Kame pulls a cigarette lighter from his front pocket and glances around as though looking for the exit. The staff take no notice of him as he wanders off down another one of the side corridors, into quieter parts of the house. By the time he reaches the end and turns left toward the back staircase, it’s almost silent.
The schematic in his head must be a couple of renovations old-he ends up in a dead end once where there should be a connection to the eastern wing of the house, and one or two of the bedrooms aren’t where they should be. He steps lightly, listening around every corner-the floorboards are old, which is both an advantage and a disadvantage. Harder to stay silent, but easier to hear someone coming.
No one does.
Finally, he reaches the eastern atrium. The dim corridor opens out into another large entrance hall-the family’s private entrance-and overlooks the open floor below. Things look a little less shiny and polished at this end of the house. The chandelier is a generation or two older than the ones in the main ballroom, and the wooden bannister surrounding the upper floor of the atrium feels worn smooth under Kame’s fingers.
He listens from the shadows for a moment. Tsai and his wife should both still be at the party, and as far as he can tell there’s no one else but the staff who should be hanging around the private wing. And presumably most of them are occupied with the party as well. When he’s satisfied that he’s alone, he takes the left-hand route around the atrium and follows it almost to the end.
The door is locked, as expected. He drops silently to a knee and takes his pick from his pocket, sliding it into the battered keyhole and feeling for the tumblers. It’s an old lock, hardly complicated. Soon the last one slides into place and the lock clicks, the handle turning reluctantly in its socket.
It’s dark inside as well. All the windows overlook the grounds, and they might be visible from the other end of the house, so he can’t risk turning on a light. But as his eyes adjust, there’s just enough ambient light filtering in to be able to get around. He won’t get out his pocket light unless it’s absolutely necessary.
There’s a laptop computer sitting on the desk, and Kame steps over to it, running his fingertips along the corner of the screen. He’s going to have to… but. Maybe not quite yet. He needs to get a look at the rest of the room too, and on the off-chance Tsai is anticipating a hack…
Better to start somewhere else.
The bookshelf first then, because it’s there, and Tsai seems the type. He’s pretty sure Tsai doesn’t have the key yet, but if he does then he’d be unlikely to hide it in the filing cabinets. Assuming he hasn’t already passed it on.
Kame pulls books aside a few at a time, picking random volumes and checking to see that their titles match their contents and that they don’t have any hidden compartments. Most of them seem to be for show. Eventually he moves aside a shelf of historical texts to reveal a small safe embedded in one panel of the wood.
Perfect.
He’s just about to start picking the lock when he hears a floorboard creak just outside the door.
He replaces the books and silently backs up against the wall beside the breakfront cabinet, keeping it between him and the door. He hears the handle turning, the bottom of the door brushing against the rug. The lights will come on any moment-he starts gauging whether his reflection in the window glass will be visible at that angle, if he should try to slide to the floor first…
But the light stays off.
There’s a footstep, a soft scuff against the floorboards, and he sees the vague shape of someone else stepping over to the desk. Flicking through a few pages of the stack of paper next to the computer, and then quietly replacing them.
Over in the corner, past the couch, there’s another exit-but it leads into a sitting room, and it might have a lock as well. That would leave him exposed. The desk is between him and the doorway into the atrium-he could make a run for it, but unless the other intruder has very slow reflexes, that would be a mistake.
Another shifting creak-a footstep closer, approaching the breakfront. Just a breath away now.
Now.
He launches himself around the corner of the breakfront and leads with an elbow, catching bone, a grunt, deflecting a counterpunch. The breakfront shudders, glass decorations clinking gently against each other, grasping fingers and a huff of breath when an elbow catches Kame in the stomach. He gets the intruder by the collar and shoves him up against the wall, pulls the gun from the back of his own belt and presses it up against the intruder’s chin. The intruder stills, hands open in submission. Lifts his chin a bit, hot breath against Kame’s face.
It’s Jin.
Fuck.
Jin’s eyes say the same thing.
Kame shoves back, gets his distance. Gets a second hand on the gun, just to steady it. Steady.
What the fuck?
“What are you doing here?” he demands, keeping his voice low, the gun trained between Jin’s eyebrows. Jin stays there against the wall, catching his breath, his hands still held up at his sides. Doesn’t look like he’s planning anything, but then you never fucking know.
Jin gives the gun a pointed look. “You can shoot me if you want,” he says. “But have fun explaining the bleeding corpse you left in this dude’s house.”
“I said what are you doing here?” Kame repeats, keeping the gun right where it is.
“Probably the same thing as you,” Jin says grimly.
Kame frowns.
How does he… How would he even know about this? Why would he care?
Unless…
“Who are you working for?”
“Nobody,” Jin says.
“Bullshit,” Kame hisses.
Jin breathes a bitter laugh. “Why bother asking me questions if you’re not going to believe the answers?”
He doesn’t even look mocking. Just resigned. It makes Kame want to slam him up against that wall again. Harder.
Fucking hell.
Another door slams. Further away, somewhere outside.
They both freeze, listening to footsteps in the atrium-high heels on the polished stone, sharp and echoing. They don’t get any closer though, fade and muffle as they head off into another part of the house.
There’s no time for this.
Kame drops his aim to his side. If Jin is telling the truth, then maybe Kame can at least make use of him. If he’s lying…
Well. If he’s lying, Kame is probably already fucked.
It will be faster with two of them anyway. Kame just needs to watch his back.
“If you’re so sure we’re looking for the same thing, then help me look,” Kame says.
Jin lowers his hands slowly, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. Even in the dark, his eyes are somehow warm.
Kame turns away from them.
“Have you gotten onto the hard drive?” Jin asks, stepping away from the wall and back over toward the desk.
Kame slips the gun back under his jacket. “Not yet,” he says. “I was going to check for the physical media first.”
Jin nods and takes a seat at the desk, starts booting the machine to command line. Kame takes a step closer and watches over Jin’s shoulder as Jin starts working his way past the security barriers. He’s managed to gain root access within a couple of minutes-not that Tsai is any kind of computer genius, it’s not surprising that his personal computer’s security would be full of holes, but still. Kame had forgotten Jin was so fast at this.
The letters and numbers on the screen stop moving for a moment, and Kame blinks, wondering why. He glances over at Jin to find him looking back at him, just inches away. Kame isn’t sure when he leaned in so close.
He straightens up again.
“Let me know if you find anything,” he says brusquely. Then he steps away. Tries to remember what he was doing before… before Jin.
Fucking hell.
The safe. He was working on the safe.
It’s not the kind of state-of-the-art hardware Kame would have expected from a guy like this, a guy with billions to spare, but then it’s also built into the furnishings-like the office itself, it seems to be from a renovation or two ago. Still, it’s well maintained and awkwardly placed, so it takes him some time to start making progress, turning the dial carefully and feeling his way through the combination.
“I’m in,” Jin mutters from across the room. Kame glances over at him, but his eyes are still focused on the screen. “There’s not much on here, mostly shit we don’t care about. If he has the file, it must be somewhere else. I can try a few more things, see if he tried to crack it earlier and left traces somewhere.”
“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” Kame asks.
Jin looks up at him. “I know what I’m looking for,” he says flatly. “Do you want to tell me what you’re looking for?”
“Nevermind,” Kame says. He catches Jin’s eyes flicking irritably before he turns back to his work.
He’s almost got the safe open, he can feel it in his fingertips. Just one more.
“Shit. I think I’ve got something,” Jin says.
“What?” Kame turns the wheel a little bit farther, feels the click.
“I don’t know, it’s-hang on, let me just…”
The door to the safe swings free, and Kame peers inside. It’s too dark to see much, but he reaches in and pulls things out carefully-a stack of passports, an old, worn out notebook. A few stacks of large banknotes, with sequential numbers.
Kame replaces the cash-no need for that-but he starts leafing through the passports and the notebook to see if there’s anything that might be useful. A few of the identities in the passports are familiar from the briefing, but some of them are new to him. He snaps pictures of the unfamiliar ones for future reference.
Most of what’s in the notebook is uninteresting-even unintelligible, without context. Financial accountings, scribbled details of transactions. Some of it might be of interest to Tsai’s former employers, things they would probably prefer he had not written down. But Kame doesn’t have any interest in that.
He gets to the end of the used pages in the notebook-nothing of consequence. He’s about to close it up and put it away, but he gives it one last flick through and realizes there’s something written on the second to last page of the book. Small and sideways, near the inner corner. A messy scrawl.
8.4
6734
090-5454-3782
Just that.
The last line is a Japanese phone number. Not one that means anything offhand, but the fact that it’s Japanese seems potentially relevant. XS Group never did business there directly, and as far as he knows, Tsai has done no private business there either.
Or he hadn’t, until recently.
“Fuck,” Jin whispers.
Kame turns around, but Jin’s attention is elsewhere. Looking. Listening. Kame listens too-and then he hears…
Shit. Footsteps-this time, on the upper floor.
Jin is moving quickly at the computer, trying to shut everything down, and Kame has to put the passports and the notebook back where he found them. He closes the safe quietly and spins the dial, puts the books back in front of it.
Jin yanks a flash drive from the side of the laptop and gets up from the desk. Kame heads directly for the door that leads to the sitting room.
Locked. Of course.
As Kame drops into a crouch and feeds the pick into the lock, Jin starts feeling around the hinges, checking to see if there’s a faster way to get through.
“Did you get it?” Kame whispers.
“I think so. Shit.” He’s fingering the lower hinge. “This thing is like rusted together.”
“I’ll get it,” Kame says. “Just give me a minute.”
“We don’t have a minute.”
“Shut up and let me do this.”
Finally the lock comes free. There isn’t time to be cautious-whoever’s out there is right outside the office. They barely have time to duck through and get the door shut behind them before a light appears in the crack underneath.
The sitting room is dark. Nothing but a dim flicker of moonlight falls across Jin’s face as he glances over at Kame. Kame knows that look.
What now?
Kame gestures with his head toward the other door, which leads back out to the hallway. Then he grabs Jin by the elbow and leads him around the coffee table, keeping him close. Kame twists the handle carefully, just enough to confirm that the door isn’t locked, but leaves it closed.
He listens for a beat-but the only sounds of movement are still coming from the office. Then he opens the door, just a crack. Peers outside.
Nothing.
He opens it a bit further and glances around the corner. The door to the office seems to be closed again, and there’s no one visible anywhere around the atrium, or as far as he can see down the corridor.
He tugs on Jin’s arm again briefly, a silent signal to stay close, and then he slips out into the corridor.
The entrance down in the atrium is no good-the stone floor is too loud, and too close to the office. They’d never get out undetected. He turns instead down another side corridor and follows it to the far end, where the schematics tell him there should be a narrow stairway leading down from the old servants’ quarters. Unless it’s been eliminated in the renovations…
It’s still there.
It’s narrow, tucked away out of sight, and they’ll be completely screwed if anyone tries to come up while they’re going down-but at least it gets them downstairs. Then it’s only two more corridors before they reach the door leading into the maintenance garage.
The garage is dark as well, littered with obstacles-stacks of crates and gardening equipment. Kame latches onto Jin’s arm again to lead him through the maze, until finally they reach the side door leading out to the grounds.
Jin sticks close behind him as they dart out around the wide balcony, into the shadow of the first hedgerow. It keeps them out of sight of the house for several meters, long enough to get some distance. Kame pauses briefly at the far end to glance back toward the east wing.
The light is still on in the office. But there’s no sign that any alarm bells have gone off, that any manhunt is taking place. And the curtains are still closed. He can’t see anyone in there.
Once he’s sure they’re not being followed, he leads Jin across the open field and into the tree cover that shields the house from the main road, and follows the driveway from the shadows until they make it back out to the highway.
They need a ride. A taxi, ideally, but Kame would settle for a hitch. The road is narrow and winding, surrounded by trees on either side, and even the lights of the city below are hidden from this angle.
He reaches for Jin’s arm again, but this time only passes through air.
What? How did he…?
Glancing around quickly, he finds Jin about twenty feet away, heading up the road and slipping between the trees. Son of a bitch…
Kame pulls the gun again. “Not another step.”
Jin stops in his tracks, stumbling slightly on the uneven ground.
“Get back here,” Kame says. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
There’s a small sigh, but Jin complies. He turns around and lifts his hands to shoulder height again, walking tamely back to Kame’s side.
“Control freak,” he grumbles, giving the gun a disdainful look.
“Shut up,” Kame says, grabbing him firmly by the arm and leading him in the other direction, towards the city. If Jin is here, somebody sent him. Kame can’t let him disappear without knowing who, much less with the damn flash drive in his pocket. “I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“How romantic,” Jin intones. Kame ignores him. He slips the gun into his coat pocket in case any cars should come by, but he keeps a hand on it to discourage Jin from trying to disappear again. Jin lowers his hands to his sides, but he doesn’t fight Kame’s grip at his elbow or make any attempts to escape.
Every once in a while he can feel Jin giving him the side eye, like he’s looking for a way in, to start a conversation. But Kame won’t engage.
What is there to say that wasn’t worth saying two years ago?
They walk in silence for about half a mile before things start to look like civilization again, the lights of Hong Kong winking at them across the ridge. Eventually Kame manages to flag down a passing cab and bribe the driver to accept their fare. He keeps the gun in his pocket and a hand on Jin’s elbow the whole way.
Within thirty minutes they’re pulling up in front of Kame’s hotel. Jin gives him a sidelong glance, but makes no protests when Kame escorts him from the car and leads him through the elegant lobby into the elevator bay.
There’s a couple in eveningwear in the elevator with them-a young woman and an older man, her hand resting lightly in the crook of his elbow. Kame releases Jin’s elbow for the moment, but lets it linger in the small of Jin’s back, out of sight. A subtle reminder.
The couple stays on the elevator when they get off, and Kame leads Jin all the way down to the end of the corridor, their feet silent on the carpet.
As soon as they’re inside the room, Kame tightens his grip on Jin’s arm and the back of Jin’s jacket and slams him up against the door, face first, one hand fisted between his shoulder blades and the barrel of the gun against the back of his skull.
“You ready to tell me what the fuck you’re doing here yet?”
Jin pants slightly, wincing at the pressure, but he doesn’t make any moves to fight back. “I told you,” he mumbles against the door. “I’m here for the same reason you are.”
“Bullshit,” Kame spits.
“You can keep saying that, but it won’t change the answer.”
“Hands,” Kame orders, jerking the fist at Jin’s collar. “Behind your back.”
Jin acquiesces, bends his arms and crosses his wrists in the small of his back. Kame leans away slightly to avoid allowing Jin’s fingers to brush against his stomach, and watches Jin’s hands settle. Keeping his eyes on Jin’s back, on everywhere he might make a move, Kame sets the gun on top of the dresser and reaches for the drawer. There’s a pair of handcuffs tucked between his undershirts, and he pulls them out. Clasps them over one wrist, then the other.
There’s a little shudder in Jin’s breath. Just for a moment.
Kame feels it too-needs a breath to get past it, the way it echoes. Muscle memory.
But that was before.
This is now.
When the handcuffs are secure, he grabs the gun off the dresser and backs off again, keeping it pointed at Jin. “Turn around,” he says. “Slowly.”
Jin does. His eyes stay on the gun as he twists around, presses himself back up against the door. “You’re more paranoid than I remember,” he comments, gesturing his chin toward the gun.
“A lot’s happened since then,” Kame says.
Jin tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement. But then he pulls at the cuffs, metal rubbing against the wood. “Still. Can you point that thing somewhere else? I think you’ve got me.”
Kame considers this for a moment. It’s true that Jin doesn’t seem to be trying to escape anymore. And even if he were, he was never much good at picking locks.
Kame lowers the gun to his side. Keeps it handy though.
“How did you know I would be here?”
“I didn’t,” Jin says. “I wasn’t looking for you.”
“Stop lying to me,” Kame warns.
“It’s the truth. If I’d known you would be here I would have made sure we met somewhere else.”
Kame narrows eyes at him. “Like where?”
“Here is good,” Jin says, lips twitching slightly.
Fucking bastard.
“Don’t,” Kame snaps. “You don’t get to do that with me anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because. You lost that privilege when you fucked me over.”
“I didn’t fuck anybody over,” Jin insists.
“Didn’t you? Then what would you call it.”
Jin’s eyes flicker, choosing words. Choosing lies. “I had something I needed to do, and I did it. I’m sorry I couldn’t bring you with me.”
Kame takes two steps closer and grabs Jin by the hair, pulls his head back sharply against the door. “Don’t. You don’t talk to me about that. Ever.”
Jin looks down at him, eyes dark, breath quaking slightly. Swallows. To anyone else it would look like fear. Kame knows better.
He puts the gun on the dresser again. Keeps the hand in Jin’s hair, and reaches for the breast pocket of Jin’s jacket. Slips his fingers inside.
Nothing. Nothing in the lining of the pocket either, or the corners.
He tries the collar of the jacket next, feels underneath the starched panels. Jin’s breath quickens when Kame’s fingers slide underneath the jacket collar, over his collarbones, but he holds very still. Presses his lips together. Kame ignores him, moving on to the seams around Jin’s shoulders, the jacket pockets at his hips.
Jin twitches when Kame’s hands slide inside the jacket pockets, feel around near his belt.
Nothing in there either.
He brings his hands up to the lapels again and pushes the jacket off Jin’s shoulders, down his trapped arms. Feels Jin’s breath stutter against his cheek, but ignores it.
This is just business.
Then he slips his hands around Jin’s sides to feel down the center of his back, under his arms again, all along the seams. It brings them too close, too warm underneath his fingers, against Kame’s chest-but Kame focuses on the seams, tracing the line of Jin’s spine and finding no foreign objects, nothing hidden there. Then he pulls back again and reaches for the shirt collar. Jin twitches and swallows when he yanks it open a few buttons and checks around the inside, where the collar meets his shoulders.
Nothing there.
It’s the belt next-he doesn’t have to undo it, just pull the shirt out from underneath it and run his fingers along the inside edge. There’s a sharp intake of breath when Kame’s fingers skim against Jin’s stomach, pull at the belt buckle to see if anything is hidden underneath-but Kame refuses to look up at him. Doesn’t want to see his face. He keeps his body from touching Jin’s as he slides his hands into the back pants pockets and checks all the corners, then follows the belt around to the front and searches the front pockets.
He knows it’s there. Even if the bulge in the front of Jin’s pants weren’t obvious, there’s no way he’d miss the signs. Jin was never good at hiding that.
It could be accidental when the fingertips of his right hand brush against it from inside the pocket-he’s not sure. But it twitches against them, and there’s another sharp intake of breath.
Then the fingers of his left hand close around the flash drive, and he pulls both hands back out.
He looks up at Jin as he pockets the drive. Jin’s eyes are dark, but impassive. He doesn’t open his mouth. Doesn’t seem to breathe.
Next, Kame gets all the way down on the floor and feels around Jin’s ankles, inside his shoes. He skims fingers down along the outer seam of Jin’s black slacks, over muscle and bone, and then back up along the inseam. Jin holds very still as Kame’s hands approach the center, but there’s a quickly stifled groan when Kame palms his erection. On purpose this time, but efficient-no room for politeness here. Kame feels around it, feels the twitch of Jin’s hips as they press involuntarily into his grip-but Kame won’t care, won’t take, won’t give him anything, won’t make this about more than it is. Just business.
His hand falls away.
There are no blades. No guns, no picks, no weapons or tools of any kind, nothing but the flash drive. That seems… unusual.
Slowly he gets to his feet again. He feels a bit lightheaded, a bit unsteady, but he tries not to show it. He should step away now, he’s got what he needed. Jin doesn’t have anything on him, he won’t be able to free himself. He should step away.
Jin’s breath is shallow, his eyes on Kame every minute, and he’s not even pretending he wants distance, wants space. He wants touch, wants Kame’s hand again, wants close.
It could be a trap. Kame knows that. He’s fallen before.
Kame’s hand finds its way into Jin’s hair again, and Jin’s lips part, just slightly. A little breath.
It’s too easy. Jin makes it too easy.
Just a little twist of his wrist, a gentle tug, and Jin’s knees are collapsing underneath him. He’s sliding down to the floor, a heavy weight pressed between Kame’s shin and the door. His eyes close for a moment, his head tilted back, and then they open. Look up at him, dark and steady.
There’s a little twitch of Jin’s hips, pushing up against Kame’s leg, just slightly. Kame tightens his fist in Jin’s hair again, and Jin’s mouth falls open with a soundless sigh, another little twitch.
Fuck.
He can’t be blamed for it. Jin is… Jin.
Kame goes for his belt with his free hand, still keeping a firm grip in Jin’s hair. He can see Jin’s breath quicken when he reaches in, pulls himself out, already mostly hard. Jin’s mouth lets him in deep, closes around him immediately. Starts to suck.
It takes a few thrusts for Kame to find his balance, braced against the door, Jin hard against his ankle and tight around his cock. It’s too deep once or twice, he can feel Jin flinch and gag, but he doesn’t protest-just keeps it tight, his hips twitching against Kame’s leg. Kame can see his arm muscles working underneath the rumpled white shirt, twisting and pulling against the restraints-but he’s held fast, nothing to do but suck, breath coming hard through his nose, tongue sliding clumsily underneath.
Kame can’t remember the last time he was this hard. The last time it felt this good. Jin moans around him, struggling for breath, straining to stay on top of it. Kame strokes the base a couple of times, where Jin can’t reach, and then pushes deep again. No flinch this time, Jin is ready for him. Another hum in Jin’s throat, and Jin’s mouth, Jin’s fucking mouth…god…he’s so…
Another tight thrust and then it washes over him, through him-pulsing, knees weak. He feels the swallow, Jin breathing around it-Jin’s mouth hot, stretched and taking it, swallowing it all. Jin’s hair clutched between his fingers, couldn’t escape now if he wanted to. No choice. Serves him right.
When Kame pulls back, Jin lets him slip out. Kame looks down at him and watches him lick his lips, panting, eyes closed tight. His dick is still straining inside his pants, his hips still pressed against Kame’s ankle as he tries to catch his breath.
Kame inches his foot back back, and Jin gives a sob. Pushes his hips out farther, but Kame’s still got him pinned by his hair. He can’t reach.
“Please,” Jin gasps, arms twisting against the cuffs again. Kame thinks about letting him have one of his hands back, letting him jerk himself off at Kame’s feet.
Thinks about leaving him here to wallow, soaked in sweat and hard all night, begging to come.
But he decides to take pity.
He gets down on his knees in front of Jin, keeping Jin’s shoulders pinned back against the door. He undoes the belt buckle, slowly, and then the button, and the zip. Jin moans when he reaches delicately inside Jin’s underwear and pulls him free. Just with his fingertips. Not enough.
He strokes a knuckle lightly along the underside of Jin’s rigid cock, and Jin slams his head back against the door. “Oh fuck, please…”
“Please what?” Kame says. He runs a fingertip over the head, through the trail of moisture there.
“Please let me come,” Jin gasps.
Kame toys with his head a little bit more-and then he wraps his hand firmly around the end of Jin’s dick, his other hand finding its grip in Jin’s hair again. “Okay,” Kame says. “Come then.”
Immediately Jin’s muscles start working, hips pushing up and into Kame’s grip, breath harsh and strained, little moans seeping out. “Tighter,” Jin says, and Kame complies, but still doesn’t join in the rhythm. Lets Jin fucking work for it.
Faster and harder, and Kame can tell Jin’s strength is giving out when he falls off the rhythm-but he still doesn’t give in.
Finally there’s a strangled cry, and Jin’s body goes rigid with it, pulsing, white and sticky over Kame’s fingers, on the floor, on Kame’s dark slacks. He flicks his wrist once, twice to keep it going, make Jin shiver again, until he finally groans and slumps, boneless against the door.
Kame lets go of Jin’s shrinking dick and reaches for the collar of Jin’s shirt. Jin twitches when he tugs it open further, wipes the come off his hand.
Jin’s eyes are closed, his breathing labored, but there’s a little fragment of a smile tugging on his lips. He lifts his chin again, takes a deeper breath, and meets Kame’s eyes. He’s closer than Kame realized.
“I’ve missed you,” Jin says. His voice is low and intimate, and Kame feels it deep in his gut, echoing through years and other bedrooms.
He swallows. The pull is almost magnetic, but he won’t fall. Not again.
Kame gets to his feet and tucks his dick back into his pants. Peels out of his shirt, which is covered in sweat and other things, and drops it on the floor. He digs through the dresser drawer and finds the keys to the handcuffs, kneels down next to Jin again and tugs his arms to the side so he can reach his wrists.
He tries not to touch him too much, avoids his gaze.
“You trust me now?” Jin says, eyebrows arching.
“If you fuck me over again, I’ll kill you in your sleep,” Kame says. “The bathroom is that way.” He nods toward the door opposite, and then turns back to the dresser to start looking for a fresh pair of pants.
“Thanks,” Jin says, working the stiffness out of his shoulders.
When Kame doesn’t answer, he pushes himself to his feet and makes his way into the bathroom. The door closes behind him. After a moment, Kame hears the shower turn on.
Alone in the bedroom, Kame sits down on the edge of the bed and digs both hands into his hair, scrubbing at his scalp and squeezing his eyes shut. Listens to the water hitting the tile in the bathroom, and Jin’s feet against the floor.
This is going to complicate everything.
But, okay. It’s okay, he can deal with this. He can keep it professional, get what he needs from Jin and complete the mission. If he’s being honest with himself, he knows he would never have had time to break into the computer before he was interrupted if Jin hadn’t shown up-and that would have meant a much riskier secondary operation. Jin might not be his partner anymore, but he can still be useful if Kame can just keep him under control.
Keep both of them under control.
He can do this.
He pulls his secure cell phone from the top drawer of the nightstand and dials the check-in number from memory. As he enters his security codes in sequence, he pulls the digital camera out of his pocket and starts flicking through what he’s got.
“You’re late,” Ueda answers, before Kame’s said a word.
“I ran into some trouble,” Kame says. “Took longer than expected.”
“Yeah, we thought you might. Nakamaru wanted to give you a heads up, but we were afraid of blowing your cover.”
The jolt hits him harder than expected, questions racing through his mind. “You knew about this?”
“Yeah. I mean, we don’t have a lot of detail, but we got word earlier this evening that there’s someone else on the trail.”
“Do you know who he’s working for?”
“Nope,” Ueda says. “We’re still following up on a few things, but so far all the leads have come up empty.” There’s typing in the background, but then it stops. “Wait. ‘He’? Did you actually run into this guy? Can you tell us anything about him?”
Kame stops. So… they didn’t know then. In a way it’s a relief, but…
He glances over at the closed bathroom door.
It’s not his job to protect Jin-not anymore. If he tells them, Jin will be out of his hair in hours, maybe sooner. What they do with him is not Kame’s problem. Whatever he knows, they’ll get it out of him.
There’s sound from the bathroom, the gentle rhythm of water hitting the glass door, shifting as Jin moves under the stream.
“No,” Kame says. “I mean, I saw that it was a man, but I didn’t get a good look at him.”
“Hmm,” Ueda murmurs. “Well, that’s something, I guess. Anything else?”
Kame turns his eyes away from the bathroom door. Tries to put unnecessary thoughts out of his head.
“Yes,” he says. “Yeah, I need you to look up a phone number for me…”
~ $ ~ $ ~ $ ~
Part 2