[021] Andiamo (1/2)
Title: Andiamo (1/2)
Pairing/Group: Arashi, KAT-TUN, J-ent guest appearances. Jun/Sho/Toma (and variations therein); secondary - Nino/Kame, light Becky/Aiba, light Ueda/insanity.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for light drug usage, light dubcon, handjobs, blowjobs, frottage, library sex, and painfully hot threesome.
Word Count: 17,915
Summary: When Matsumoto Jun, private detective, agrees to take on a rather strange case, his entire world is flipped upside down. (Sherlock Holmesian-type AU)
Notes: Written for astrangerenters for je_fqfest 2010! :D Originally posted here. So much love to miquilis for helping me plot and plan until our brains exploded, lyricalidol for consistently giving me incentive to finish and beta'ing, katmillia for constant encouragement, my Twitter followers for putting up with my flailing and the mod for giving me a break when I didn't deserve one. <3 I apologize for any anachronisms and inconsistencies. This is the longest fic I've ever written and I think I broke my brain with it.
•••••
Ikuta Toma wondered, not for the first time, why, in the few very long years they’d been partners (professionally, he was quick to respond to raised eyebrows and questioning glances), he chose to live with the most infuriating man on the planet. Logic dictated that it was a good plan - maintaining the same residence meant they’d be able to answer Scotland Yard’s call at a moment’s notice and when he wasn’t intentionally (or otherwise) being antagonizing, Matsumoto Jun was a decent enough cook, a skill Toma himself had yet to master. Some niggling little thing at the back of his mind made Toma doubt logic, however. Fancying himself a logical man, Toma simply chose to ignore the niggle and carry on, head held high, collar stiff, waistcoat carefully buttoned.
Toma had long ago gotten used to coming home to find his entire portion of the flat rearranged, scrubbed and dusted within an inch of its poor life. Jun preferred to clean as he processed a case. It wasn’t so much that Toma was a slob, per se, but rather that he liked being able to locate things with as little effort as possible. Jun liked them elsewhere when he was in one of those particular moods. Toma had grown accustomed to finding his undershirts in a different drawer each week, and had even taken to making it almost a game. Often the best way to deal with Jun’s particular brand of peculiarity was to just play along. Eccentric though he may have been, Jun was also one of the most brilliant minds in all of London, possibly Britain itself, despite his utter lack of knowledge in any fields other than dime novels, Italian food and chemistry.
It was a particularly sunny Thursday afternoon, not long after Matsumoto had solved the case of the missing Kentshire family diamonds, that Toma chose to present his latest case to the detective. Jun always was in a delightful mood following a solved case, and this one especially had him near skipping - once again he’d made Scotland Yard’s top men look like idiots.
"Jun," Toma started, trailing behind him a bit and swinging his walking stick jauntily. "I have a proposition for you."
Jun turned about at once, eyes alight with curiosity. Toma knew that look. He’d seen it many times before. It meant Jun was up for whatever challenge Toma had to throw his way.
"It’s the Aiba case," he continued, avoiding Jun’s eyes.
Jun stopped and shook his head, smiling all the same. "I’ve already told you, Toma. We are proper detectives. Kowtowing to an irrational quack with a penchant for dead animals on his walls is not in my repertoire. The Aiba case can go to someone else. Ninomiya or Oguri."
Toma was more than prepared for this answer. He’d been expecting it. Ninomiya Kazunari was an excellent detective in his own right, when he wasn’t swindling people out of their money and teaching sleight of hand to the street urchins. Oguri Shun and his partner Mizushima Hiro were the finest Scotland Yard had to offer, but given Toma’s limited experience with the police force, that wasn’t saying much. Oguri was quiet and hot headed; Mizushima was just slow and pretty - a combination that may have gotten him far in academy, but was clearly not doing the fine citizens of London any favors. Toma pretended to consider his options for a moment before replying.
"They’re not dead animals, they’re replicas of animals he’s seen on his many very expensive ventures around the world." He paused for effect. "You do know Aiba just tripled his offer?" Toma spun his walking stick in a circle, watching the motion and avoiding Jun’s stare. "I know you’ve been eyeing that suit at the haberdashery down the way." Toma shrugged. "Perhaps we could both get new suits, provided you’re good enough to crack this one."
That did it, Toma was sure. Jun could be arrogant, self-centered and rude, but he knew the value of a good suit - and the value of his own investigatory skills. He had yet to meet a case he couldn’t solve. Toma could practically hear the wheels turning in Jun’s head as he pondered the proposition. That was a very nice suit, Toma had to admit: light gray wool, three pieces, with an ascot to die for. Jun had been lusting after that particular piece of clothing for weeks, a fact that registered very plainly as his eyebrows narrowed in Toma’s direction. Attempting to maintain the innocent nonchalance on his face, Toma merely looked back in silence, waiting for Jun to be the first to speak.
Jun sighed heavily, but the grin he wore gave away his lack of annoyance with the situation. "Very well," he said. "Let this Aiba know that we’ll take his case. But it had better be good."
Toma nodded and turned to find a delivery boy to take his message to their new client.
"Oh, and Toma," Jun called to his partner. "If we don’t get the reward, you’re still buying me that suit.
--
Aiba Masaki, world traveler and zoologist extraordinaire, had moved to the outskirts of London several years prior with his pretty wife, the lady Rebecca, and their houseful of interesting, albeit odd collection of souvenirs from across the globe. The unkind society women of London cruelly joked that Becky, as she preferred to be called to the scandalous gasps of said women, was just another trinket from one of Aiba’s many excursions to some of the more exotic corners of the world. Toma had met Becky while in the university library one day. Her bright eyes shone with laughter as she made her yearly donation and conversed with Toma freely. Toma couldn’t help but adore her, and couldn’t help but wonder why the society women of London abhorred her so.
"Oh yes, my Masaki is just on his way back from a thrilling adventure to Egypt," she had exclaimed. "He did mention in his last letter something about a mysterious vase." Becky paused, tapping one elegant finger to her lips. "His travelling companion is sure it’s cursed, but Masaki, ever the adventurer, is just positive there’s nothing to do with it. You should come for dinner when they return. I’m sure Masaki would agree to it."
Toma had ridden home to the flat on Baker Street in a bit of a daze, shellshocked by this lovely woman with her rapid fire speech and open mannerisms. What he knew of this Aiba fellow, his wife seemed a rather perfect match. It was a few weeks later that Toma received a missive from the lady Rebecca indicating the vase had been stolen and please, dear Toma, persuade your Matsumoto to take the job. Toma’s decision was made - they were going to take the job, and he would have to spin it to Jun. They would take it, Jun would find the vase (having, in addition to his limited academic pursuits, also being rather knowledgeable in the areas of Egyptian lore), they would walk away with the reward money and, hopefully, a new group of influential friends. It couldn’t hurt to have people as wealthy and kind as the Aiba’s on their side from time to time. The key was convincing Jun.
Having done so rather magnificently, Toma found himself in a carriage with a grumbling Matsumoto on a bright Saturday morning in the fall. The air was crisp, cool and promised adventure and fresh apples. Toma reveled in the beauty of the day, glad for once to escape the smoke and haze surrounding the city for the pure comfort of the country. Having been raised in the country himself, Toma felt more at home with the trees flying by than he ever had in the midst of tall buildings and cobbled roads.
"…so bloody early," he heard Jun mumble from across the small confines of the carriage. Jun never had been one for early (or late) mornings, preferring to rise in early afternoon at best. Another point of contrition between the two, given that Toma enjoyed being up with the sun for his first cup of coffee and fresh bread from the bakery two doors down.
"Oh, come now Jun," Toma chided, smiling and patting his friend’s knee. "It’s not that early. The sun and I have been up for hours now. Surely you can muster some kind of smile before we get there."
Jun offered what Toma could only call a grimace in response and slumped back down in his seat, pulling his hat forward over his eyes.
"Fine," Toma said. He leaned back and observed his partner carefully. "Continue your act as a petulant child. But you will be nice to Miss Becky. She deserves that at least."
Jun grumbled something almost indiscernible from under his hat.
"We should be there by early afternoon." Toma grinned. His sense of adventure was tingling, even if Jun was being a royal stick in the mud. But that was to be expected at this point.
--
It was late afternoon before they arrived at Aiba’s sprawling country estate. Jun had perked considerably by the time they arrived, his grousing ceasing somewhere around the time the wheel broke off the carriage and they had to wait for it to be repaired, drinking coffee and eating the cakes their housekeeper, Mrs. Bundt, had packed for them. Toma couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer size of the land the Aiba’s owned - and the odd layout therein. It should have come as no surprise that the garden was large, colorful and free spirited as its owner. Wildflowers grew untamed all along the drive. At first Toma was sure there was no rhyme or reason to it all, but of course Jun proved him wrong.
"See how the purple ones repeat every twenty meters or so?" he asked, eyes delighted. Jun loved discovering new things and patterns and mathematics were no exception.
Toma regarded him fondly for a moment before turning his attentions back to the looming household before him. To call it a house would be a gross understatement, though a castle may have been a bit much. Something in between, Toma thought, jaw dropping a bit at the sight of the manor. The main building and the two small outbuildings were all covered in the same large slabs of white stone, ivy trailing up attractively along the sides. There were two, maybe three turrets on the main house, several Roman columns, and little pink flowers dotting the walkways. Toma hadn’t met Miss Becky for more than five or ten minutes, but he felt her presence in every tiny detail of the home.
"At least we know they’re good for the reward," Jun remarked, one corner of his mouth turning upward into a sly smile.
The carriage stopped at the front door, where a tall, fluffy haired young man greeted them graciously, if a bit loudly. From the khaki capri pants, matching shirt (the sleeves a bit short for this weather) and hiking boots, Toma assumed this could only be one Aiba Masaki.
"HELLO," he said, bouncing down the stairs with a blinding smile. "Aiba Masaki: explorer, adventurer, lover of life." Aiba shook their hands enthusiastically as they stepped out of the carriage. Jun didn’t try to hide his smirk - a combination of amusement and derision. Toma stepped forward and introduced them to their host.
"Ikuta Toma and my partner in business, Matsumoto Jun," he said, gesturing behind him.
"Lovely lovely." Aiba bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. "Ikuta…Ikuta….Oh, you’re the one that met my Becky at the library a few weeks ago!" Aiba pulled Toma into a tight hug, squeezing Toma like a stuffed toy. "You must come in and meet everyone else immediately."
"Others?" Jun asked, one eyebrow cocked high.
Aiba released Toma from his iron grip and bounced toward the house, motioning for the two travelers to follow and ignoring Jun altogether. Toma straightened his jacket and dared not glance back at Jun’s laughing form.
"For someone who has recently had a rare and valuable antique stolen from them, he’s terribly cheerful. Come on then," he grumbled, still reeling a bit from the rather unexpected hug.
--
The "others" in residence with the Aiba’s were Taguchi Junnosuke, a local medium Toma had heard of from here and there; Ohno Satoshi, a second medium Aiba had picked up somewhere in the south of France (if his dark complexion was any indication, he was more into being outdoors than reading the inner workings of eccentric millionaires); Nakamaru Yuichi, curator for a museum in northern London; the detectives Oguri and his partner, Mizushima Hiro; and Aiba’s travelling companion, Sakurai Sho, who had embarked on the trip with Aiba to Egypt. There was something about Sho that made Toma’s stomach clench a bit - the firm handshake maybe, or perhaps the crinkles around his eyes when he laughed. Toma introduced himself to each member of the group one by one before turning to catch Jun’s look of incredible discomfort at the situation.
"Jun?" he asked, concern marring his face.
"Jun," came the soft call from behind Toma. Sho brushed past him to grip Jun’s hand tightly. "It’s been a while."
Jun’s smile had all but disappeared as he looked down at their joined hands. It took two beats before he regained his composure.
"Sho," he said, shaking hands firmly. Toma watched as the wall went up between them. Jun’s sense of self-preservation was strong, but Toma couldn’t help but wonder why he would need it in the face of this man. Clearly they had some kind of history, but as Toma wracked his brain for mentions of "Sakurai" or "Sho" or any various thereof, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Becky chose that moment to bound into the room lightly, grabbing her husband around the waist for a close hug from behind. "Gentlemen," she started. "Dinner is ready when you are."
"I can see why the hoity-toits hate her," Jun commented out of the corner of his mouth.
"I can’t help but adore her," Toma replied, smiling broadly.
--
The meal was just as extravagant and odd as the rest of the family’s lifestyle. Each course more exquisite than that previous, no less delicious or intriguing, from all over the world. Aiba talked a steady stream through each course, explaining the origins of the meal and customs of the peoples he’d encountered in his travels. Toma hardly held back his laughter as Aiba recounted the tale of being attacked by kangaroos in the Australian deserts. Becky’s eyes twinkled as she promised a kangaroo for her beloved’s next birthday (to which he recoiled in horror and offered to buy her all of the pink diamonds he could find on the planet, holding her hand lightly and placing a kiss on one finger while she giggled wildly).
The two mediums, Junno and Ohno, sat across from each other having some sort of bizarre staring contest throughout the meal. Periodically, one would lean back with a self-assured smile on his face as if he’d won something, though the rest of the group chose to ignore the pair in favor of people who actually spoke.
Oguri frowned through the whole meal, keeping true to form, while his partner, the energetic and intriguing Hiro engaged everyone in conversation in turn. Toma had always been secretly fond of the pair, finding them to be amusing, if nothing else. He wasn’t terribly fond of their investigation techniques (he often wondered if they even possessed any), but Hiro was likable enough.
Jun remained polite, if a bit rigid throughout the meal, addressing everyone but the mysterious Sakurai. Aiba seemed to pick up on the tension and launched into yet another story about his adventures in the East Indies, riding an elephant through the jungles.
Sho himself seemed completely at ease with the situation, laughing at all the right points, offering to refill Toma’s drink as need be, inserting his own commentary into Aiba’s stories. He had apparently been travelling with the explorer for quite some time, a year or two, he said, one hand ticking off months and locations.
"India, Australia, Egypt, and when we picked up Satoshi in France, of course," Sho smiled broadly at the medium, still engaged in a silent tug-of-war with Junno.
"I’d love to hear more about Egypt and the vase," Nakamaru began, leaning forward with his eyes wide.
"I’d love to hear more about how it was stolen," Oguri grumbled.
"Yes, yes," Becky said, cutting him off with a wave of one tiny hand. "After dessert. First I want to hear how Mr. Matsumoto knows our Sho." Becky tilted her head to one side questioningly.
Jun’s smile froze in place. Toma could see the panic start to form, but Jun was too seasoned an expert at this to let a small question like that completely derail him. Jun opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Sho.
"Jun and I were old school friends," he said. Sho turned his smile toward the object of discussion. "But it’s been a few, maybe six or seven years?"
"Yes, something like that," Jun responded, turning his attention back to his meal. "Miss Becky, these potatoes are quite delicious. Do you grow them on the property?"
Becky smiled and allowed him to change direction, forcing the discussion to crops and harvesting, something Toma was all too familiar with. He chose, instead, to observe - the little glances Sho threw at Jun as he focused his attention on Becky, the way Jun turned his body toward Sakurai despite not engaging him in conversation whatsoever. Something happened there, Toma was sure. It wouldn’t surprise him if Jun had been romantically involved with another man at some point. He, himself, was a lifelong bachelor for a reason and it wasn’t for a lack of pretty faces. Toma would be lying if he said the only reason he maintained a residence with Jun was for the convenience of work, but that was the lie he told himself to keep what small modicum of sanity he still had.
"Dessert, Miss Becky?" asked one of the butlers, breaking the conversation for a moment and giving them all pause.
"Oh, yes, thank you, Kazuya," she replied with a smile. "The ice cream and cobbler Cook left out for us, if you don’t mind." Turning her attention back to the table, Becky regarded the gentlemen before her. "Now, about this vase my darling husband so foolishly stole from some Egyptian king’s tomb…"
"It wasn’t stealing, my dear," Aiba replied, pout forming on his lips. "It was procuring for the sake of knowledge and study."
"Yes, yes, you stole the vase," Becky said. Her eyes twinkled again, clearly glad to pick on her husband a little. Toma was sure she wasn’t someone to be trifled with, if the glint in her eye was anything to go judge.
Aiba cleared his throat before continuing. "Yes, the vase that was procured by Sho and I. While on an excavation of what we think was the fourteenth king of Egypt’s tomb, one of our guides discovered a small gap in a wall containing hundreds of gold pieces, jewelry and decorative items, such as the vase. Unfortunately, the hole was too small to get too far into it and the only item brought back was the vase. I had planned on donating it to the museum Mr. Nakamaru curates for, but it was stolen before we had the opportunity for him to take a look at it. This was nearly a week ago and I have received no letter of ransom, no indication of where it is or who took it." Aiba leaned forward, eyebrows drawn together seriously. "I’ve brought you here, gentlemen, to find that vase. The prize is considerable. This vase could mean a great deal to the museum and help us to continue to unravel the mysteries of ancient Egypt."
--
After dinner Jun found himself in Aiba's library, perusing the leather bound books and wondering how in the world he'd gotten himself in this mess. He'd pay Toma back, that was for certain. Jun had promised himself long ago that he wouldn't think of Sakurai Sho ever again. To be thrust together into a social situation was some kind of special torture reserved only for Jun, he was sure of it.
Jun ran his fingers across the books, reading titles and names. Aiba obviously had a penchant for wild animals, but his curiosity didn't end there. Chemistry, biology, zoology, agriculture - Aiba had books on nearly every area of science. Jun couldn't help but respect the man for his obvious thirst for knowledge. If there was anything Jun valued, it was a good suit and scholastics. Where Aiba lacked in the first (Jun shuddered at the thought of those awful khaki hiking shorts), he obviously more than made up for it with his knowledge of the world around him.
Jun had just settled in one of the large, comfortable chairs dotting the room when heard the door open behind him.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone...Jun?" came a familiar voice. Jun froze at the sound, the slight gravelly nature of the baritone sweeping over him slowly.
He stood from his place, moving to the bookshelf to return his find and ignored Sho carefully.
"You're just going to ignore me, then?" Sho asked, leaning against the closed door.
"I was going to ignore you, yes, but you have clearly blocked the only exit to the room. I could jump through a window," Jun suggested, still avoiding Sho's eyes. "But this is a new suit."
Sho pushed himself off the door and stalked to Jun, gaze never wavering from Jun's face. "I would hate to have to follow you out the window just to talk to you," he said, smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Yes, well, you appear to have me cornered, so talk." Jun crossed his arms in defiance. Sho had broken him, run off to some new adventure and now just wanted to chat? Jun balked at the thought. He wanted nothing to do with this man. Wanted nothing more than to live in peace with his suits, hats and friend Toma. Why was that so much to ask?
"I've been travelling with Aiba for a few years now, seeking our mutual fortune and adventure. He's likable and intelligent." Sho paused, meeting Jun's eyes for the first time. "You'd like him."
Jun snorted. He probably would like Aiba and he knew it, but he wasn't going to let Sho know that.
"We've seen the globe," Sho continued, eyes glazing over in memory. "India, Morocco, China, Australia - they're pushing for independence, you know, and most recently, Egypt. In every place, I thought of Jun. You would love India," he said with a smile. "The food is spicy and rich. It reminded me of you."
Jun felt his resolve weaken at Sho's smile, but steeled himself. "What brings you back to England then?" he asked, venom in his tone.
"Do you remember the last time we were in a library together, Matsumoto?" Sho asked. He trailed his fingers along book spines as he walked, approaching Jun slowly - like one would a dangerous animal.
"You didn't answer my question," Jun replied.
"You didn't answer mine," Sho shot back. "Do you remember, Jun? We were researching chemical compounds for some bomb you wanted to recreate. Something about sulfur not being the best material." Sho waved one hand, not bothering to remember it all. "You pushed me up against the bookcase."
Sho was close, too close, Jun thought. He took a step and his back met the shelf behind him. Sho was still talking.
"You pushed me against the bookcase," he repeated. "And you kissed me like the day was never going to end." Jun's mind flashed back to that night, remembering the desperate kisses, the feel of Sho's lips against his, the way he'd slid Sho's suspenders down for better access to his pants.
"You do remember," Sho whispered, now entirely too close, their bodies brushing lightly. Sho placed his hands on the shelf behind Jun's shoulders and leaned in closely. "You remember what you did to me? Your hand in my pants and making me moan? That memory kept me going in Africa when Aiba tried to taunt a lion. In Morocco when he was trying to learn snake charming. Your hand," Sho reached down to grab one of Jun's hands and bring it to his lips. "Your hand was on me the whole time."
Jun felt his breath catch in his throat as he remembered Sho's cock against his palm, the breathy little moans he'd made, trying not to get caught, but wanting to cry out so badly. Jun moved one hand to the front of his pants, trying to cover his own erection before Sho could notice. Sho caught his wrist before it made it and palmed Jun lightly through the cloth.
"I missed you, Jun," Sho said, breath teasing across Jun's ear. "Don't you think it's about time for a haircut?"
Sho pulled away and was out of the room before Jun could register what happened. Jun cursed quietly, looking down at the rather noticeable tenting of his pants and vowing revenge upon Sho for this. He hadn't forgotten Sho, he had missed him, and he wanted him so bad he could taste it. Jun hurried out of the library to his room to take care of himself, the memory of Sho's cologne lingering in his mind and bringing him to the brink quickly.
It wasn't over, he thought as he came down from his high. It would never be over.
--
It was just past midnight when a scream ripped through the house, waking the occupants one by one. Toma, still pulling on his suspenders over his undershirt, was one of the first there, nearly colliding with Becky as she came racing out of the library.
"I couldn't sleep, so I went to get a book and...and..." Becky dissolved into tears, clinging to Toma's chest and shaking.
"What happened?" Aiba exclaimed as he skidded around the corner. "Becky? What's wrong?" Becky looked up at him, tears in her eyes and rushed to embrace her husband.
"It's Junno," she whispered. "He's...he's dead."
Toma's eyes went wide at the revelation. Aiba continued holding his wife, stroking her hair softly and murmuring sounds of comfort and encouragement as she sobbed against him. Toma moved to the door of the library and looking in, saw Taguchi's body on the floor, blood pooling under him.
"Jun," he whispered. "Where's Jun?" he asked, louder this time.
"Here," came the grumbly reply. "What's going on out here?" Jun asked as he stalked up, glasses askew, hair a mess with sleep (Toma knew Jun was prone to tossing and turning).
"In the library," Toma said, motioning to the door. He followed Jun in, observing the scene with his own eyes. Lying on the expensive-looking carpet next to him, Toma spotted a dagger - long and silver, with an intricate little design on the handle. He immediately recognized it as one Aiba had been showing him earlier in the night, claiming it was from the Queen of Spain as a gift for taming one of her bulls.
Oguri and Hiro burst into the room, taking in the scene quickly. "What the hell happened here, Matsumoto?" Oguri demanded, stalking angrily over to him.
"You and I know the same amount of information," Jun replied, a sense of calm enveloping him that Toma had seen before.
"Who found the body? Miss Becky?" Hiro asked.
"Go interview her," Oguri ordered, jutting his thumb in the direction of the door.
Jun was still examining the body, ignoring the detectives and conducting his own investigation. Toma could practically see the wheels turning in Jun's head as he leaned over Taguchi's form, cataloguing every tiny piece of evidence he could find.
"Ah," Jun exclaimed under his breath. Reaching down, he tugged at the corner of a slip of paper in Taguchi's pocket. As he stood, Toma realized it wasn't a slip of paper, but a trump card.
"A card?" Toma asked. They hadn't been playing cards, and as far as he knew, Taguchi wasn't an avid poker man.
"Joker," Jun replied, turning the card around.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Oguri asked as he snatched the card from Jun's hand.
Aiba pushed into the room, closely followed by the butler, Kazuya, who quickly moved back out of the room, eyes wide, and Ohno and Nakamaru.
"Oh my god," Nakamaru breathed, hand over his mouth. He looked ready to lose his dinner and hurried back out of the room.
Ohno regarded the scene quietly, eyes sad and drooping more than Toma had seen them so far. "He was a good medium," he said. "But neither of us saw this coming."
Aiba just shook his head in disbelief.
"Matsumoto," Oguri started, still turning the card over in his hands. "You know who leaves cards at the crime scene, do you not?"
Toma watched Jun tense and forcibly relax. "It wasn't Nino," Jun replied, sure of that himself.
"It's not his style," Toma agreed. "Nino doesn't do murder."
"Yet," grumbled Oguri. "Until he can prove to me otherwise, Ninomiya is at the top of my suspect list."
"He wasn't even here," Jun exclaimed.
"That you know of."
Jun looked as if he wanted to bash his head in. Or Oguri's.
"Aiba," Jun said, turning his attention to their host. "Do you know of anyone who would want to do this? Anyone who would have the means?"
Aiba started at the sound of his own name, looking flustered and horrified by the situation. He shook his head hard. "No, no one. Junno was a nice guy, if a little loopy. Is....is this my fault?" Toma wanted to pat Aiba on the head as his face fell even further.
"Why would it be your fault?" Jun asked, pressing for more information.
"The vase," he replied simply. "One of the villagers in Egypt swore to me the vase was cursed, but I didn't believe them. I had promised Nakamaru I would donate it once I returned, but now it's stolen and Junno is dead." Aiba's eyes welled up with tears as he recounted the story. Toma moved to put his hand on Aiba's shoulder reassuringly.
"It's not your fault," Toma said, squeezing once. "We'll find out who did this and bring them to justice. I promise. Go see to Miss Becky. We'll take care of this."
Aiba nodded once and headed back to the hall to escort his wife back to bed. Toma didn't envy the nights of tears and nightmares sure to follow, but Aiba and Becky seemed to have a bond that perhaps he didn't fully understand.
"I'm returning to London first thing in the morning," Oguri declared, pocketing the trump card. "Ninomiya will be hearing from me whether you like it or not. He may know something."
Jun shook his head as the detective stalked out of the library. Toma was in silent agreement. Oguri was wasting his time with Ninomiya. They'd had enough run-ins with him to know that he wasn't likely to murder someone. Not unless they'd drained his bank account or touched his wallet without permission. Ninomiya was a shrewd enough detective in his own right. He'd never give them more information than would benefit himself in the end.
"Back to bed," Jun said, motioning to the door. "We'll be heading back in the morning as well."
"Why?" Toma asked. He glanced back down at Taguchi's still frame, regret washing over him that they weren't able to prevent something like this.
"Because we have to get to Ninomiya before they do."
--
The next morning dawned bright and clear. Inside the Aiba home, however, it was dark and portended of doom. Toma's heart ached for the Aiba's, and for Taguchi's family, if he had any. He had yet to get used to seeing people murdered, even after a dozen cases with Jun. Before they left the manor, Becky had taken Toma's hands between her own and made him swear to bring the murderer to justice. Toma looked in her big green eyes and made that oath. He wouldn't let Miss Becky down.
The coach ride back to London was quiet as Jun worked out the details of the crime in his mind. Toma had learned long ago to let Jun be when he was pondering. Eventually all the pieces of the puzzle would fall into place, Jun would be brilliant, and they would solve whatever horrifying mystery was before them with ease.
"I still don't think it's Nino," Jun said, breaking the silence.
"Why?"
"Do you think it was Nino?"
"Well, no, but I do like hearing your reasoning," Toma replied. He offered a small smile in return for Jun's brilliance.
"Nino leaves cards occasionally, we know this," Jun started. "You and I have caught him in a scam more than once. He's a decent enough detective in his own right to know how to buck the system, but he can't resist leaving behind his mark."
Toma nodded in agreement. They'd known Nino for several years. He was sly and cunning, but personable enough most of the time. Jun and Nino had butted heads on more than one occasion, but Toma attributed that more to their incredibly similar personalities than anything else. In a different world, they may have been friends. In this one, however, they settled for grudging respect among colleagues. Toma accepted that as the state of things. It was easier than forcing the two men to like each other.
"If Nino were to murder someone and leave a trump card behind," Jun continued. "It wouldn't be the Joker."
"What makes you say that?" Toma asked. The Joker was a legitimate enough card, he thought. In some games, a wild card. It would make sense for the wild card to be thrown into a murder scene.
"Nino's too flamboyant for the Joker. I'd peg him for one of the Kings, maybe an Ace, if he were to murder someone. Surely you've picked up on his habit of scoring his mark with cards? The more he can scam, the higher the card. He's never hit a 10 yet, which makes me think a Joker for a murder?"
"Copycat?" Toma asked.
"That's what I'm thinking," replied Jun. "Besides, I don't think he'd send his partner to do his dirty work."
Toma's brow furrowed. He couldn't recall Nino ever working with someone else. They'd encountered him several times, occasionally with another person, but never the same one. "Partner?"
"The butler," Jun said, raising one eyebrow. "They've been together several years. Didn't you notice he was missing this morning?"
Toma leaned back against the cushion on his side of the carriage. It never ceased to amaze him the things Jun would notice. Not that he would tell him that, for fear of inflating the man's ego. "So, we go find Ninomiya and the butler?"
Jun nodded. "And find out who would want to frame him. Surely Ninomiya's got an enemy or two."
"Or two hundred," Toma muttered.
--
The knock at the door was frenzied, sending Nino’s senses into overdrive. Hauling himself out of the overstuffed chair at the back of the studio apartment, Nino moved toward the entrance, grabbing his revolver on the way. The room was small and full of random objects (some stolen, others paid for with actual money (usually someone else’s)) that created a kind of maze - easy to navigate if you knew your way around, but otherwise, one was likely to bruise a shin or tear a trouser. Nino paused to the side of the door and returned the knock. The resulting thud answered several unasked questions.
"Kame," he started, relaxing and pulling the door open. "What in the wo-"
Kame rushed into the room, slamming the door behind him and looking around frantically.
"We have to get out of here," he gasped. Kame moved around the room collecting clothing and knickknacks, tossing them in a carpet bag with fervor.
"What? Why?" Nino’s eyebrows pulled together into a solid line across his face.
"One of the mediums was murdered. They think you did it." Kame paused and moved to cup Nino’s face. "They’re going to hang you for this one, Kazu."
Nino felt the outrage explode and cool within him long before the words even registered in his mind.
"We’re not leaving," he said, fingers closing around Kame’s thin wrists. "We’re staying here. You and I both know I didn’t murder anyone. We need to…to calm down, find a course of action." Nino turned his head to catch one of Kame’s wrists with his lips, nipping just hard enough to be felt, but not so hard as to leave a mark.
Kame’s breath caught in his throat. He was panicked, and for a damn good reason. He’d raced to their small flat all the way from the Aiba house as soon as the trump card had been found. Kame knew the implications of the card, but he never thought anyone would go so far as to set Nino up. Kame had spent the entire horse ride home trying to remember who they’d swindled (and who had found out about it) or who could possibly have a grudge against Nino. His mind raced, terrified at what this could mean.
Nino was calmer than expected, even in the face of a murder allegation. There were two things in the world Nino trusted: the value of money and the law. He knew that the law would come out on his side. Sure, he deceived people for a large portion of his living, but he was comfortable with that. Deception of the rich rarely lead to murder. Rarely.
Placing his hands on Kame’s hips, Nino tugged him a touch closer, a slow smile creeping across his face.
"It’ll be fine," he assured, rubbing small circles into Kame’s skin. "We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this, right?"
"Actually," Kame moved his arms to tighten around Nino’s neck. "I think this might be the worst so far."
Nino grinned, knowing he won the battle with Kame’s nerves. He always had been a worrier, that one, a trait that Nino initially found annoying, then endearing, and now just something to be consistently dealt with with the patience, adoration and ridicule befitting a partner.
"Besides, I couldn’t leave you alone in this world," Nino muttered. "Who would you worry about if you didn’t have me?"
Kame tasted like sunshine, dust, anxiety and something sweet Nino never could identify for sure, but was sure was just purely Kame. Their lips moved together in a well-practiced dance. Kame kissed like he did everything else - with purpose; efficiently using every motion and breath to his advantage. Nino was sure he’d never tire of Kame’s kisses, that surely sometime in his wretched life he had done something amazing enough to deserve this person’s attention. How a scrawny, anxious kid from the wrong side of London ended up with this gorgeous creature, he’d never quite figured out. But Nino wasn’t one to argue (not about the important things anyway).
It was a short trip to the bed from the middle of the mazelike room, one that had been made many times in the past, and with luck, would be made many more. Nino pushed Kame lightly to the bed, sliding over him and trailing kisses from jaw to collar, leaving a fevered trail in their wake.
"Aah-are you sure this is the best plan right now, Kazu?" Kame gasped, pulling Nino closer and rolling his hips up slightly.
"I think we’ll both work better if we’re much more relaxed," came the murmured reply, Nino’s breath cascading across Kame’s collarbones.
Nino made quick work of both sets of clothing, careful not to rip anything - linen was dreadfully expensive - but anxious to have Kame beneath him, writhing in pleasure. They wasted no time exploring each other’s bodies. They’d had years of exploration and teasing - enough to last several lifetimes, Nino was sure. Nino rolled his hips down into Kame’s, moaning into his neck as their erections brushed. The friction was beautiful, but not nearly enough. Nino brought his head up to glance about for the small pot of lubricant usually kept by the table.
"No time," Kame said, hands on either side of Nino’s face again, pulling him back down for a soft brush of a kiss. "Just….this."
Kame brought his hand between them, grasping both erections with purpose and sliding slowly. Nino’s breath stuttered in his chest. He watched Kame’s eyes (he most perfect shade of brown) trail up his body, as if cataloguing every scar and mark Nino had, just in case. Nino tried not to think about that, choosing to live in the moment. And the moment had heat and slick and hand and oh god Kame please do that again.
They rocked together for a few minutes, their eyes locked on each other. Nino drank in the sight before him as his hips rolled down into Kame’s. He never wanted it to end. It felt so damn good and all Nino wanted was more and more and more.
He always cried Kame’s name when he came.
In the warm, soft, after-glow, Kame cuddled Nino to his chest and petted his hair. Nino fought the urge to sigh and snuggle, curling into Kame’s arms even tighter and wishing the moment would never end.
"What do we do now?" Kame whispered. Nino lay there for a moment, listening to his breath, the rapid heartbeat of anxiety.
"Now….now we clear my name."
→ Part Two!
Pairing/Group: Arashi, KAT-TUN, J-ent guest appearances. Jun/Sho/Toma (and variations therein); secondary - Nino/Kame, light Becky/Aiba, light Ueda/insanity.
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for light drug usage, light dubcon, handjobs, blowjobs, frottage, library sex, and painfully hot threesome.
Word Count: 17,915
Summary: When Matsumoto Jun, private detective, agrees to take on a rather strange case, his entire world is flipped upside down. (Sherlock Holmesian-type AU)
Notes: Written for astrangerenters for je_fqfest 2010! :D Originally posted here. So much love to miquilis for helping me plot and plan until our brains exploded, lyricalidol for consistently giving me incentive to finish and beta'ing, katmillia for constant encouragement, my Twitter followers for putting up with my flailing and the mod for giving me a break when I didn't deserve one. <3 I apologize for any anachronisms and inconsistencies. This is the longest fic I've ever written and I think I broke my brain with it.
•••••
Ikuta Toma wondered, not for the first time, why, in the few very long years they’d been partners (professionally, he was quick to respond to raised eyebrows and questioning glances), he chose to live with the most infuriating man on the planet. Logic dictated that it was a good plan - maintaining the same residence meant they’d be able to answer Scotland Yard’s call at a moment’s notice and when he wasn’t intentionally (or otherwise) being antagonizing, Matsumoto Jun was a decent enough cook, a skill Toma himself had yet to master. Some niggling little thing at the back of his mind made Toma doubt logic, however. Fancying himself a logical man, Toma simply chose to ignore the niggle and carry on, head held high, collar stiff, waistcoat carefully buttoned.
Toma had long ago gotten used to coming home to find his entire portion of the flat rearranged, scrubbed and dusted within an inch of its poor life. Jun preferred to clean as he processed a case. It wasn’t so much that Toma was a slob, per se, but rather that he liked being able to locate things with as little effort as possible. Jun liked them elsewhere when he was in one of those particular moods. Toma had grown accustomed to finding his undershirts in a different drawer each week, and had even taken to making it almost a game. Often the best way to deal with Jun’s particular brand of peculiarity was to just play along. Eccentric though he may have been, Jun was also one of the most brilliant minds in all of London, possibly Britain itself, despite his utter lack of knowledge in any fields other than dime novels, Italian food and chemistry.
It was a particularly sunny Thursday afternoon, not long after Matsumoto had solved the case of the missing Kentshire family diamonds, that Toma chose to present his latest case to the detective. Jun always was in a delightful mood following a solved case, and this one especially had him near skipping - once again he’d made Scotland Yard’s top men look like idiots.
"Jun," Toma started, trailing behind him a bit and swinging his walking stick jauntily. "I have a proposition for you."
Jun turned about at once, eyes alight with curiosity. Toma knew that look. He’d seen it many times before. It meant Jun was up for whatever challenge Toma had to throw his way.
"It’s the Aiba case," he continued, avoiding Jun’s eyes.
Jun stopped and shook his head, smiling all the same. "I’ve already told you, Toma. We are proper detectives. Kowtowing to an irrational quack with a penchant for dead animals on his walls is not in my repertoire. The Aiba case can go to someone else. Ninomiya or Oguri."
Toma was more than prepared for this answer. He’d been expecting it. Ninomiya Kazunari was an excellent detective in his own right, when he wasn’t swindling people out of their money and teaching sleight of hand to the street urchins. Oguri Shun and his partner Mizushima Hiro were the finest Scotland Yard had to offer, but given Toma’s limited experience with the police force, that wasn’t saying much. Oguri was quiet and hot headed; Mizushima was just slow and pretty - a combination that may have gotten him far in academy, but was clearly not doing the fine citizens of London any favors. Toma pretended to consider his options for a moment before replying.
"They’re not dead animals, they’re replicas of animals he’s seen on his many very expensive ventures around the world." He paused for effect. "You do know Aiba just tripled his offer?" Toma spun his walking stick in a circle, watching the motion and avoiding Jun’s stare. "I know you’ve been eyeing that suit at the haberdashery down the way." Toma shrugged. "Perhaps we could both get new suits, provided you’re good enough to crack this one."
That did it, Toma was sure. Jun could be arrogant, self-centered and rude, but he knew the value of a good suit - and the value of his own investigatory skills. He had yet to meet a case he couldn’t solve. Toma could practically hear the wheels turning in Jun’s head as he pondered the proposition. That was a very nice suit, Toma had to admit: light gray wool, three pieces, with an ascot to die for. Jun had been lusting after that particular piece of clothing for weeks, a fact that registered very plainly as his eyebrows narrowed in Toma’s direction. Attempting to maintain the innocent nonchalance on his face, Toma merely looked back in silence, waiting for Jun to be the first to speak.
Jun sighed heavily, but the grin he wore gave away his lack of annoyance with the situation. "Very well," he said. "Let this Aiba know that we’ll take his case. But it had better be good."
Toma nodded and turned to find a delivery boy to take his message to their new client.
"Oh, and Toma," Jun called to his partner. "If we don’t get the reward, you’re still buying me that suit.
--
Aiba Masaki, world traveler and zoologist extraordinaire, had moved to the outskirts of London several years prior with his pretty wife, the lady Rebecca, and their houseful of interesting, albeit odd collection of souvenirs from across the globe. The unkind society women of London cruelly joked that Becky, as she preferred to be called to the scandalous gasps of said women, was just another trinket from one of Aiba’s many excursions to some of the more exotic corners of the world. Toma had met Becky while in the university library one day. Her bright eyes shone with laughter as she made her yearly donation and conversed with Toma freely. Toma couldn’t help but adore her, and couldn’t help but wonder why the society women of London abhorred her so.
"Oh yes, my Masaki is just on his way back from a thrilling adventure to Egypt," she had exclaimed. "He did mention in his last letter something about a mysterious vase." Becky paused, tapping one elegant finger to her lips. "His travelling companion is sure it’s cursed, but Masaki, ever the adventurer, is just positive there’s nothing to do with it. You should come for dinner when they return. I’m sure Masaki would agree to it."
Toma had ridden home to the flat on Baker Street in a bit of a daze, shellshocked by this lovely woman with her rapid fire speech and open mannerisms. What he knew of this Aiba fellow, his wife seemed a rather perfect match. It was a few weeks later that Toma received a missive from the lady Rebecca indicating the vase had been stolen and please, dear Toma, persuade your Matsumoto to take the job. Toma’s decision was made - they were going to take the job, and he would have to spin it to Jun. They would take it, Jun would find the vase (having, in addition to his limited academic pursuits, also being rather knowledgeable in the areas of Egyptian lore), they would walk away with the reward money and, hopefully, a new group of influential friends. It couldn’t hurt to have people as wealthy and kind as the Aiba’s on their side from time to time. The key was convincing Jun.
Having done so rather magnificently, Toma found himself in a carriage with a grumbling Matsumoto on a bright Saturday morning in the fall. The air was crisp, cool and promised adventure and fresh apples. Toma reveled in the beauty of the day, glad for once to escape the smoke and haze surrounding the city for the pure comfort of the country. Having been raised in the country himself, Toma felt more at home with the trees flying by than he ever had in the midst of tall buildings and cobbled roads.
"…so bloody early," he heard Jun mumble from across the small confines of the carriage. Jun never had been one for early (or late) mornings, preferring to rise in early afternoon at best. Another point of contrition between the two, given that Toma enjoyed being up with the sun for his first cup of coffee and fresh bread from the bakery two doors down.
"Oh, come now Jun," Toma chided, smiling and patting his friend’s knee. "It’s not that early. The sun and I have been up for hours now. Surely you can muster some kind of smile before we get there."
Jun offered what Toma could only call a grimace in response and slumped back down in his seat, pulling his hat forward over his eyes.
"Fine," Toma said. He leaned back and observed his partner carefully. "Continue your act as a petulant child. But you will be nice to Miss Becky. She deserves that at least."
Jun grumbled something almost indiscernible from under his hat.
"We should be there by early afternoon." Toma grinned. His sense of adventure was tingling, even if Jun was being a royal stick in the mud. But that was to be expected at this point.
--
It was late afternoon before they arrived at Aiba’s sprawling country estate. Jun had perked considerably by the time they arrived, his grousing ceasing somewhere around the time the wheel broke off the carriage and they had to wait for it to be repaired, drinking coffee and eating the cakes their housekeeper, Mrs. Bundt, had packed for them. Toma couldn’t help but be impressed by the sheer size of the land the Aiba’s owned - and the odd layout therein. It should have come as no surprise that the garden was large, colorful and free spirited as its owner. Wildflowers grew untamed all along the drive. At first Toma was sure there was no rhyme or reason to it all, but of course Jun proved him wrong.
"See how the purple ones repeat every twenty meters or so?" he asked, eyes delighted. Jun loved discovering new things and patterns and mathematics were no exception.
Toma regarded him fondly for a moment before turning his attentions back to the looming household before him. To call it a house would be a gross understatement, though a castle may have been a bit much. Something in between, Toma thought, jaw dropping a bit at the sight of the manor. The main building and the two small outbuildings were all covered in the same large slabs of white stone, ivy trailing up attractively along the sides. There were two, maybe three turrets on the main house, several Roman columns, and little pink flowers dotting the walkways. Toma hadn’t met Miss Becky for more than five or ten minutes, but he felt her presence in every tiny detail of the home.
"At least we know they’re good for the reward," Jun remarked, one corner of his mouth turning upward into a sly smile.
The carriage stopped at the front door, where a tall, fluffy haired young man greeted them graciously, if a bit loudly. From the khaki capri pants, matching shirt (the sleeves a bit short for this weather) and hiking boots, Toma assumed this could only be one Aiba Masaki.
"HELLO," he said, bouncing down the stairs with a blinding smile. "Aiba Masaki: explorer, adventurer, lover of life." Aiba shook their hands enthusiastically as they stepped out of the carriage. Jun didn’t try to hide his smirk - a combination of amusement and derision. Toma stepped forward and introduced them to their host.
"Ikuta Toma and my partner in business, Matsumoto Jun," he said, gesturing behind him.
"Lovely lovely." Aiba bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. "Ikuta…Ikuta….Oh, you’re the one that met my Becky at the library a few weeks ago!" Aiba pulled Toma into a tight hug, squeezing Toma like a stuffed toy. "You must come in and meet everyone else immediately."
"Others?" Jun asked, one eyebrow cocked high.
Aiba released Toma from his iron grip and bounced toward the house, motioning for the two travelers to follow and ignoring Jun altogether. Toma straightened his jacket and dared not glance back at Jun’s laughing form.
"For someone who has recently had a rare and valuable antique stolen from them, he’s terribly cheerful. Come on then," he grumbled, still reeling a bit from the rather unexpected hug.
--
The "others" in residence with the Aiba’s were Taguchi Junnosuke, a local medium Toma had heard of from here and there; Ohno Satoshi, a second medium Aiba had picked up somewhere in the south of France (if his dark complexion was any indication, he was more into being outdoors than reading the inner workings of eccentric millionaires); Nakamaru Yuichi, curator for a museum in northern London; the detectives Oguri and his partner, Mizushima Hiro; and Aiba’s travelling companion, Sakurai Sho, who had embarked on the trip with Aiba to Egypt. There was something about Sho that made Toma’s stomach clench a bit - the firm handshake maybe, or perhaps the crinkles around his eyes when he laughed. Toma introduced himself to each member of the group one by one before turning to catch Jun’s look of incredible discomfort at the situation.
"Jun?" he asked, concern marring his face.
"Jun," came the soft call from behind Toma. Sho brushed past him to grip Jun’s hand tightly. "It’s been a while."
Jun’s smile had all but disappeared as he looked down at their joined hands. It took two beats before he regained his composure.
"Sho," he said, shaking hands firmly. Toma watched as the wall went up between them. Jun’s sense of self-preservation was strong, but Toma couldn’t help but wonder why he would need it in the face of this man. Clearly they had some kind of history, but as Toma wracked his brain for mentions of "Sakurai" or "Sho" or any various thereof, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Becky chose that moment to bound into the room lightly, grabbing her husband around the waist for a close hug from behind. "Gentlemen," she started. "Dinner is ready when you are."
"I can see why the hoity-toits hate her," Jun commented out of the corner of his mouth.
"I can’t help but adore her," Toma replied, smiling broadly.
--
The meal was just as extravagant and odd as the rest of the family’s lifestyle. Each course more exquisite than that previous, no less delicious or intriguing, from all over the world. Aiba talked a steady stream through each course, explaining the origins of the meal and customs of the peoples he’d encountered in his travels. Toma hardly held back his laughter as Aiba recounted the tale of being attacked by kangaroos in the Australian deserts. Becky’s eyes twinkled as she promised a kangaroo for her beloved’s next birthday (to which he recoiled in horror and offered to buy her all of the pink diamonds he could find on the planet, holding her hand lightly and placing a kiss on one finger while she giggled wildly).
The two mediums, Junno and Ohno, sat across from each other having some sort of bizarre staring contest throughout the meal. Periodically, one would lean back with a self-assured smile on his face as if he’d won something, though the rest of the group chose to ignore the pair in favor of people who actually spoke.
Oguri frowned through the whole meal, keeping true to form, while his partner, the energetic and intriguing Hiro engaged everyone in conversation in turn. Toma had always been secretly fond of the pair, finding them to be amusing, if nothing else. He wasn’t terribly fond of their investigation techniques (he often wondered if they even possessed any), but Hiro was likable enough.
Jun remained polite, if a bit rigid throughout the meal, addressing everyone but the mysterious Sakurai. Aiba seemed to pick up on the tension and launched into yet another story about his adventures in the East Indies, riding an elephant through the jungles.
Sho himself seemed completely at ease with the situation, laughing at all the right points, offering to refill Toma’s drink as need be, inserting his own commentary into Aiba’s stories. He had apparently been travelling with the explorer for quite some time, a year or two, he said, one hand ticking off months and locations.
"India, Australia, Egypt, and when we picked up Satoshi in France, of course," Sho smiled broadly at the medium, still engaged in a silent tug-of-war with Junno.
"I’d love to hear more about Egypt and the vase," Nakamaru began, leaning forward with his eyes wide.
"I’d love to hear more about how it was stolen," Oguri grumbled.
"Yes, yes," Becky said, cutting him off with a wave of one tiny hand. "After dessert. First I want to hear how Mr. Matsumoto knows our Sho." Becky tilted her head to one side questioningly.
Jun’s smile froze in place. Toma could see the panic start to form, but Jun was too seasoned an expert at this to let a small question like that completely derail him. Jun opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Sho.
"Jun and I were old school friends," he said. Sho turned his smile toward the object of discussion. "But it’s been a few, maybe six or seven years?"
"Yes, something like that," Jun responded, turning his attention back to his meal. "Miss Becky, these potatoes are quite delicious. Do you grow them on the property?"
Becky smiled and allowed him to change direction, forcing the discussion to crops and harvesting, something Toma was all too familiar with. He chose, instead, to observe - the little glances Sho threw at Jun as he focused his attention on Becky, the way Jun turned his body toward Sakurai despite not engaging him in conversation whatsoever. Something happened there, Toma was sure. It wouldn’t surprise him if Jun had been romantically involved with another man at some point. He, himself, was a lifelong bachelor for a reason and it wasn’t for a lack of pretty faces. Toma would be lying if he said the only reason he maintained a residence with Jun was for the convenience of work, but that was the lie he told himself to keep what small modicum of sanity he still had.
"Dessert, Miss Becky?" asked one of the butlers, breaking the conversation for a moment and giving them all pause.
"Oh, yes, thank you, Kazuya," she replied with a smile. "The ice cream and cobbler Cook left out for us, if you don’t mind." Turning her attention back to the table, Becky regarded the gentlemen before her. "Now, about this vase my darling husband so foolishly stole from some Egyptian king’s tomb…"
"It wasn’t stealing, my dear," Aiba replied, pout forming on his lips. "It was procuring for the sake of knowledge and study."
"Yes, yes, you stole the vase," Becky said. Her eyes twinkled again, clearly glad to pick on her husband a little. Toma was sure she wasn’t someone to be trifled with, if the glint in her eye was anything to go judge.
Aiba cleared his throat before continuing. "Yes, the vase that was procured by Sho and I. While on an excavation of what we think was the fourteenth king of Egypt’s tomb, one of our guides discovered a small gap in a wall containing hundreds of gold pieces, jewelry and decorative items, such as the vase. Unfortunately, the hole was too small to get too far into it and the only item brought back was the vase. I had planned on donating it to the museum Mr. Nakamaru curates for, but it was stolen before we had the opportunity for him to take a look at it. This was nearly a week ago and I have received no letter of ransom, no indication of where it is or who took it." Aiba leaned forward, eyebrows drawn together seriously. "I’ve brought you here, gentlemen, to find that vase. The prize is considerable. This vase could mean a great deal to the museum and help us to continue to unravel the mysteries of ancient Egypt."
--
After dinner Jun found himself in Aiba's library, perusing the leather bound books and wondering how in the world he'd gotten himself in this mess. He'd pay Toma back, that was for certain. Jun had promised himself long ago that he wouldn't think of Sakurai Sho ever again. To be thrust together into a social situation was some kind of special torture reserved only for Jun, he was sure of it.
Jun ran his fingers across the books, reading titles and names. Aiba obviously had a penchant for wild animals, but his curiosity didn't end there. Chemistry, biology, zoology, agriculture - Aiba had books on nearly every area of science. Jun couldn't help but respect the man for his obvious thirst for knowledge. If there was anything Jun valued, it was a good suit and scholastics. Where Aiba lacked in the first (Jun shuddered at the thought of those awful khaki hiking shorts), he obviously more than made up for it with his knowledge of the world around him.
Jun had just settled in one of the large, comfortable chairs dotting the room when heard the door open behind him.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize anyone...Jun?" came a familiar voice. Jun froze at the sound, the slight gravelly nature of the baritone sweeping over him slowly.
He stood from his place, moving to the bookshelf to return his find and ignored Sho carefully.
"You're just going to ignore me, then?" Sho asked, leaning against the closed door.
"I was going to ignore you, yes, but you have clearly blocked the only exit to the room. I could jump through a window," Jun suggested, still avoiding Sho's eyes. "But this is a new suit."
Sho pushed himself off the door and stalked to Jun, gaze never wavering from Jun's face. "I would hate to have to follow you out the window just to talk to you," he said, smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Yes, well, you appear to have me cornered, so talk." Jun crossed his arms in defiance. Sho had broken him, run off to some new adventure and now just wanted to chat? Jun balked at the thought. He wanted nothing to do with this man. Wanted nothing more than to live in peace with his suits, hats and friend Toma. Why was that so much to ask?
"I've been travelling with Aiba for a few years now, seeking our mutual fortune and adventure. He's likable and intelligent." Sho paused, meeting Jun's eyes for the first time. "You'd like him."
Jun snorted. He probably would like Aiba and he knew it, but he wasn't going to let Sho know that.
"We've seen the globe," Sho continued, eyes glazing over in memory. "India, Morocco, China, Australia - they're pushing for independence, you know, and most recently, Egypt. In every place, I thought of Jun. You would love India," he said with a smile. "The food is spicy and rich. It reminded me of you."
Jun felt his resolve weaken at Sho's smile, but steeled himself. "What brings you back to England then?" he asked, venom in his tone.
"Do you remember the last time we were in a library together, Matsumoto?" Sho asked. He trailed his fingers along book spines as he walked, approaching Jun slowly - like one would a dangerous animal.
"You didn't answer my question," Jun replied.
"You didn't answer mine," Sho shot back. "Do you remember, Jun? We were researching chemical compounds for some bomb you wanted to recreate. Something about sulfur not being the best material." Sho waved one hand, not bothering to remember it all. "You pushed me up against the bookcase."
Sho was close, too close, Jun thought. He took a step and his back met the shelf behind him. Sho was still talking.
"You pushed me against the bookcase," he repeated. "And you kissed me like the day was never going to end." Jun's mind flashed back to that night, remembering the desperate kisses, the feel of Sho's lips against his, the way he'd slid Sho's suspenders down for better access to his pants.
"You do remember," Sho whispered, now entirely too close, their bodies brushing lightly. Sho placed his hands on the shelf behind Jun's shoulders and leaned in closely. "You remember what you did to me? Your hand in my pants and making me moan? That memory kept me going in Africa when Aiba tried to taunt a lion. In Morocco when he was trying to learn snake charming. Your hand," Sho reached down to grab one of Jun's hands and bring it to his lips. "Your hand was on me the whole time."
Jun felt his breath catch in his throat as he remembered Sho's cock against his palm, the breathy little moans he'd made, trying not to get caught, but wanting to cry out so badly. Jun moved one hand to the front of his pants, trying to cover his own erection before Sho could notice. Sho caught his wrist before it made it and palmed Jun lightly through the cloth.
"I missed you, Jun," Sho said, breath teasing across Jun's ear. "Don't you think it's about time for a haircut?"
Sho pulled away and was out of the room before Jun could register what happened. Jun cursed quietly, looking down at the rather noticeable tenting of his pants and vowing revenge upon Sho for this. He hadn't forgotten Sho, he had missed him, and he wanted him so bad he could taste it. Jun hurried out of the library to his room to take care of himself, the memory of Sho's cologne lingering in his mind and bringing him to the brink quickly.
It wasn't over, he thought as he came down from his high. It would never be over.
--
It was just past midnight when a scream ripped through the house, waking the occupants one by one. Toma, still pulling on his suspenders over his undershirt, was one of the first there, nearly colliding with Becky as she came racing out of the library.
"I couldn't sleep, so I went to get a book and...and..." Becky dissolved into tears, clinging to Toma's chest and shaking.
"What happened?" Aiba exclaimed as he skidded around the corner. "Becky? What's wrong?" Becky looked up at him, tears in her eyes and rushed to embrace her husband.
"It's Junno," she whispered. "He's...he's dead."
Toma's eyes went wide at the revelation. Aiba continued holding his wife, stroking her hair softly and murmuring sounds of comfort and encouragement as she sobbed against him. Toma moved to the door of the library and looking in, saw Taguchi's body on the floor, blood pooling under him.
"Jun," he whispered. "Where's Jun?" he asked, louder this time.
"Here," came the grumbly reply. "What's going on out here?" Jun asked as he stalked up, glasses askew, hair a mess with sleep (Toma knew Jun was prone to tossing and turning).
"In the library," Toma said, motioning to the door. He followed Jun in, observing the scene with his own eyes. Lying on the expensive-looking carpet next to him, Toma spotted a dagger - long and silver, with an intricate little design on the handle. He immediately recognized it as one Aiba had been showing him earlier in the night, claiming it was from the Queen of Spain as a gift for taming one of her bulls.
Oguri and Hiro burst into the room, taking in the scene quickly. "What the hell happened here, Matsumoto?" Oguri demanded, stalking angrily over to him.
"You and I know the same amount of information," Jun replied, a sense of calm enveloping him that Toma had seen before.
"Who found the body? Miss Becky?" Hiro asked.
"Go interview her," Oguri ordered, jutting his thumb in the direction of the door.
Jun was still examining the body, ignoring the detectives and conducting his own investigation. Toma could practically see the wheels turning in Jun's head as he leaned over Taguchi's form, cataloguing every tiny piece of evidence he could find.
"Ah," Jun exclaimed under his breath. Reaching down, he tugged at the corner of a slip of paper in Taguchi's pocket. As he stood, Toma realized it wasn't a slip of paper, but a trump card.
"A card?" Toma asked. They hadn't been playing cards, and as far as he knew, Taguchi wasn't an avid poker man.
"Joker," Jun replied, turning the card around.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Oguri asked as he snatched the card from Jun's hand.
Aiba pushed into the room, closely followed by the butler, Kazuya, who quickly moved back out of the room, eyes wide, and Ohno and Nakamaru.
"Oh my god," Nakamaru breathed, hand over his mouth. He looked ready to lose his dinner and hurried back out of the room.
Ohno regarded the scene quietly, eyes sad and drooping more than Toma had seen them so far. "He was a good medium," he said. "But neither of us saw this coming."
Aiba just shook his head in disbelief.
"Matsumoto," Oguri started, still turning the card over in his hands. "You know who leaves cards at the crime scene, do you not?"
Toma watched Jun tense and forcibly relax. "It wasn't Nino," Jun replied, sure of that himself.
"It's not his style," Toma agreed. "Nino doesn't do murder."
"Yet," grumbled Oguri. "Until he can prove to me otherwise, Ninomiya is at the top of my suspect list."
"He wasn't even here," Jun exclaimed.
"That you know of."
Jun looked as if he wanted to bash his head in. Or Oguri's.
"Aiba," Jun said, turning his attention to their host. "Do you know of anyone who would want to do this? Anyone who would have the means?"
Aiba started at the sound of his own name, looking flustered and horrified by the situation. He shook his head hard. "No, no one. Junno was a nice guy, if a little loopy. Is....is this my fault?" Toma wanted to pat Aiba on the head as his face fell even further.
"Why would it be your fault?" Jun asked, pressing for more information.
"The vase," he replied simply. "One of the villagers in Egypt swore to me the vase was cursed, but I didn't believe them. I had promised Nakamaru I would donate it once I returned, but now it's stolen and Junno is dead." Aiba's eyes welled up with tears as he recounted the story. Toma moved to put his hand on Aiba's shoulder reassuringly.
"It's not your fault," Toma said, squeezing once. "We'll find out who did this and bring them to justice. I promise. Go see to Miss Becky. We'll take care of this."
Aiba nodded once and headed back to the hall to escort his wife back to bed. Toma didn't envy the nights of tears and nightmares sure to follow, but Aiba and Becky seemed to have a bond that perhaps he didn't fully understand.
"I'm returning to London first thing in the morning," Oguri declared, pocketing the trump card. "Ninomiya will be hearing from me whether you like it or not. He may know something."
Jun shook his head as the detective stalked out of the library. Toma was in silent agreement. Oguri was wasting his time with Ninomiya. They'd had enough run-ins with him to know that he wasn't likely to murder someone. Not unless they'd drained his bank account or touched his wallet without permission. Ninomiya was a shrewd enough detective in his own right. He'd never give them more information than would benefit himself in the end.
"Back to bed," Jun said, motioning to the door. "We'll be heading back in the morning as well."
"Why?" Toma asked. He glanced back down at Taguchi's still frame, regret washing over him that they weren't able to prevent something like this.
"Because we have to get to Ninomiya before they do."
--
The next morning dawned bright and clear. Inside the Aiba home, however, it was dark and portended of doom. Toma's heart ached for the Aiba's, and for Taguchi's family, if he had any. He had yet to get used to seeing people murdered, even after a dozen cases with Jun. Before they left the manor, Becky had taken Toma's hands between her own and made him swear to bring the murderer to justice. Toma looked in her big green eyes and made that oath. He wouldn't let Miss Becky down.
The coach ride back to London was quiet as Jun worked out the details of the crime in his mind. Toma had learned long ago to let Jun be when he was pondering. Eventually all the pieces of the puzzle would fall into place, Jun would be brilliant, and they would solve whatever horrifying mystery was before them with ease.
"I still don't think it's Nino," Jun said, breaking the silence.
"Why?"
"Do you think it was Nino?"
"Well, no, but I do like hearing your reasoning," Toma replied. He offered a small smile in return for Jun's brilliance.
"Nino leaves cards occasionally, we know this," Jun started. "You and I have caught him in a scam more than once. He's a decent enough detective in his own right to know how to buck the system, but he can't resist leaving behind his mark."
Toma nodded in agreement. They'd known Nino for several years. He was sly and cunning, but personable enough most of the time. Jun and Nino had butted heads on more than one occasion, but Toma attributed that more to their incredibly similar personalities than anything else. In a different world, they may have been friends. In this one, however, they settled for grudging respect among colleagues. Toma accepted that as the state of things. It was easier than forcing the two men to like each other.
"If Nino were to murder someone and leave a trump card behind," Jun continued. "It wouldn't be the Joker."
"What makes you say that?" Toma asked. The Joker was a legitimate enough card, he thought. In some games, a wild card. It would make sense for the wild card to be thrown into a murder scene.
"Nino's too flamboyant for the Joker. I'd peg him for one of the Kings, maybe an Ace, if he were to murder someone. Surely you've picked up on his habit of scoring his mark with cards? The more he can scam, the higher the card. He's never hit a 10 yet, which makes me think a Joker for a murder?"
"Copycat?" Toma asked.
"That's what I'm thinking," replied Jun. "Besides, I don't think he'd send his partner to do his dirty work."
Toma's brow furrowed. He couldn't recall Nino ever working with someone else. They'd encountered him several times, occasionally with another person, but never the same one. "Partner?"
"The butler," Jun said, raising one eyebrow. "They've been together several years. Didn't you notice he was missing this morning?"
Toma leaned back against the cushion on his side of the carriage. It never ceased to amaze him the things Jun would notice. Not that he would tell him that, for fear of inflating the man's ego. "So, we go find Ninomiya and the butler?"
Jun nodded. "And find out who would want to frame him. Surely Ninomiya's got an enemy or two."
"Or two hundred," Toma muttered.
--
The knock at the door was frenzied, sending Nino’s senses into overdrive. Hauling himself out of the overstuffed chair at the back of the studio apartment, Nino moved toward the entrance, grabbing his revolver on the way. The room was small and full of random objects (some stolen, others paid for with actual money (usually someone else’s)) that created a kind of maze - easy to navigate if you knew your way around, but otherwise, one was likely to bruise a shin or tear a trouser. Nino paused to the side of the door and returned the knock. The resulting thud answered several unasked questions.
"Kame," he started, relaxing and pulling the door open. "What in the wo-"
Kame rushed into the room, slamming the door behind him and looking around frantically.
"We have to get out of here," he gasped. Kame moved around the room collecting clothing and knickknacks, tossing them in a carpet bag with fervor.
"What? Why?" Nino’s eyebrows pulled together into a solid line across his face.
"One of the mediums was murdered. They think you did it." Kame paused and moved to cup Nino’s face. "They’re going to hang you for this one, Kazu."
Nino felt the outrage explode and cool within him long before the words even registered in his mind.
"We’re not leaving," he said, fingers closing around Kame’s thin wrists. "We’re staying here. You and I both know I didn’t murder anyone. We need to…to calm down, find a course of action." Nino turned his head to catch one of Kame’s wrists with his lips, nipping just hard enough to be felt, but not so hard as to leave a mark.
Kame’s breath caught in his throat. He was panicked, and for a damn good reason. He’d raced to their small flat all the way from the Aiba house as soon as the trump card had been found. Kame knew the implications of the card, but he never thought anyone would go so far as to set Nino up. Kame had spent the entire horse ride home trying to remember who they’d swindled (and who had found out about it) or who could possibly have a grudge against Nino. His mind raced, terrified at what this could mean.
Nino was calmer than expected, even in the face of a murder allegation. There were two things in the world Nino trusted: the value of money and the law. He knew that the law would come out on his side. Sure, he deceived people for a large portion of his living, but he was comfortable with that. Deception of the rich rarely lead to murder. Rarely.
Placing his hands on Kame’s hips, Nino tugged him a touch closer, a slow smile creeping across his face.
"It’ll be fine," he assured, rubbing small circles into Kame’s skin. "We’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this, right?"
"Actually," Kame moved his arms to tighten around Nino’s neck. "I think this might be the worst so far."
Nino grinned, knowing he won the battle with Kame’s nerves. He always had been a worrier, that one, a trait that Nino initially found annoying, then endearing, and now just something to be consistently dealt with with the patience, adoration and ridicule befitting a partner.
"Besides, I couldn’t leave you alone in this world," Nino muttered. "Who would you worry about if you didn’t have me?"
Kame tasted like sunshine, dust, anxiety and something sweet Nino never could identify for sure, but was sure was just purely Kame. Their lips moved together in a well-practiced dance. Kame kissed like he did everything else - with purpose; efficiently using every motion and breath to his advantage. Nino was sure he’d never tire of Kame’s kisses, that surely sometime in his wretched life he had done something amazing enough to deserve this person’s attention. How a scrawny, anxious kid from the wrong side of London ended up with this gorgeous creature, he’d never quite figured out. But Nino wasn’t one to argue (not about the important things anyway).
It was a short trip to the bed from the middle of the mazelike room, one that had been made many times in the past, and with luck, would be made many more. Nino pushed Kame lightly to the bed, sliding over him and trailing kisses from jaw to collar, leaving a fevered trail in their wake.
"Aah-are you sure this is the best plan right now, Kazu?" Kame gasped, pulling Nino closer and rolling his hips up slightly.
"I think we’ll both work better if we’re much more relaxed," came the murmured reply, Nino’s breath cascading across Kame’s collarbones.
Nino made quick work of both sets of clothing, careful not to rip anything - linen was dreadfully expensive - but anxious to have Kame beneath him, writhing in pleasure. They wasted no time exploring each other’s bodies. They’d had years of exploration and teasing - enough to last several lifetimes, Nino was sure. Nino rolled his hips down into Kame’s, moaning into his neck as their erections brushed. The friction was beautiful, but not nearly enough. Nino brought his head up to glance about for the small pot of lubricant usually kept by the table.
"No time," Kame said, hands on either side of Nino’s face again, pulling him back down for a soft brush of a kiss. "Just….this."
Kame brought his hand between them, grasping both erections with purpose and sliding slowly. Nino’s breath stuttered in his chest. He watched Kame’s eyes (he most perfect shade of brown) trail up his body, as if cataloguing every scar and mark Nino had, just in case. Nino tried not to think about that, choosing to live in the moment. And the moment had heat and slick and hand and oh god Kame please do that again.
They rocked together for a few minutes, their eyes locked on each other. Nino drank in the sight before him as his hips rolled down into Kame’s. He never wanted it to end. It felt so damn good and all Nino wanted was more and more and more.
He always cried Kame’s name when he came.
In the warm, soft, after-glow, Kame cuddled Nino to his chest and petted his hair. Nino fought the urge to sigh and snuggle, curling into Kame’s arms even tighter and wishing the moment would never end.
"What do we do now?" Kame whispered. Nino lay there for a moment, listening to his breath, the rapid heartbeat of anxiety.
"Now….now we clear my name."
→ Part Two!