Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Things don’t really change. Rei doesn’t really change. He still does not talk to Kazuki unless absolutely necessary. Kazuki still butts into his life, making him meals, emptying out his ashtray, nagging him to take a bath at least once a week, then when he gets once a week, trying to make it twice a week, though Rei won’t let him press further. He’d pulled a gun on Kazuki when Kazuki had sprayed him with a water bottle to get him to go bathe, and Kazuki hadn’t tried it again after that.

Really, not much has changed.

—

They’re both wearing suits for the next job. Rei because that’s his work attire, Kazuki because he’s going undercover at a lavish party, dressed to the nines in a tuxedo with a jet black wig he spent the afternoon fixing up just right. Rei watches him mill around. He doesn’t have to find the target. That’s Kazuki’s job. So Rei just watches him.

As he’s watching Kazuki, the smile on his face, the slim, untouched flute of champagne he sometimes brings to his lips, a man sidles up behind Kazuki and puts a hand on his waist. Kazuki startles and turns rapidly, about to push the man away, but within a fraction of a second his expression shifts and he morphs the gesture easily into a caress, gloved hand landing on the man’s chest.

Rei briefly contemplates taking the guy out—he has an easy shot from his position in the rafters two buildings away—but Kyutaro would scold them later for unnecessary carnage and chaos.

“Tch,” says Rei. He could easily shoot the man through Kazuki, but he doesn't want to.

Instead, he trains his eye on Kazuki, realizing as he does that the man touching him is their target. That explains why Rei felt such a powerful impulse to kill him—he must've recognized him unconsciously. He should’ve taken his shot when he had the chance. But Kazuki isn’t bad at his job; a few minutes pass, and with some whispered words, he’s leading the target outside so Rei will have a quiet, clean shot.

Kazuki tugs the man behind a fountain in the garden. As the man leans in for a kiss, Rei shoots him in the head.

It splatters. Kazuki gets a bit bloody and yelps at the sound, then says, “Dude!” right into the tiny comm in his pocket square. The reproachful look he shoots Rei still isn’t really warranted, and he’s not even looking in quite the right place, though he should know exactly where Rei is stationed.

He sighs obnoxiously and starts hauling the body further into the garden, and Rei takes that as his cue to leave.

By the time he’s started the engine to their getaway van a block down the road, Kazuki is back and his face is clean, but he’s still got that same irritated look on. As soon as his ass touches the seat, Rei presses on the gas. He hears Kazuki open and shut his mouth a couple times, then sigh again.

“I was gonna yell at you for shooting him in the head when I was so damn close to his face,” Kazuki says, not looking at him. “But I really didn’t feel like kissing that guy.” 

Rei doesn’t respond.

Kazuki closes his eyes and leans his head back. “Honestly, I didn’t think we’d be done so quick. I estimated at least an hour or two to lure him out. But he came right up to me, the old perv.” He’s tapping his foot against the metal floor of the van. Says contemplatively, “I think it was the wig. The materials said he liked young, shy, dark-haired guys. I don’t know how Kyu-chan figures stuff like that out.”

Kazuki gets like this sometimes, just talking as if Rei's listening, or as if Rei might participate, even though he'll only ever be having a conversation with himself.

"Now that I think about it..." Kazuki clutches the seat as Rei makes a sharp right. "Young, shy, dark-haired—huh! Maybe you should've gone instead of me!"

He must pick up on the expression Rei's making without having to look, because he laughs, says, "I know, I know. 'No fucking way.' It was just a thought."

Rei wishes he hadn't brought it up. Now he's thinking about the target touching him instead of Kazuki—it fills him with a powerful discomfort, not dissimilar to the urge he had to shoot earlier.

A fluttering in Rei’s periphery puts him on the alert, but he realizes it’s only Kazuki, shaking his head around and pulling at the roots of his wig where it connects seamlessly to his forehead. He has his phone out, looking in the selfie camera. Rei has a clear view of his jugular and the slant of his cheekbone, and turns his gaze back to the road before it lingers too long. Kazuki yanks on the wig with greater force, but it doesn’t budge.

“I really did do a good job on this,” Kazuki mutters, impressed. “Hot damn.” He pushes it around some more, then stops moving, looking at something on his phone.

He turns it off with a click, then puts it back in his pocket. They drive the rest of the way back in silence.

—

The minute they get back, Kazuki gets a couple beers for the two of them and heats up some leftovers, sitting next to Rei on the couch. He doesn’t seem to care that Rei doesn’t pause his game or turn the volume down, just drinking and looking vaguely past the TV, arm draped over the back cushions. If Rei moved slightly to the left, Kazuki’s hand would touch his shoulder. 

It’s a strange thought. Less of a thought, more a curiosity. An idea that’s only now occurred to him. Rei is trained to thoroughly manage any insubordinate or unnecessary ideas—he’s not sure how to classify this one, so he stays right where he is and observes from his periphery. 

Kazuki finishes his beer and cracks open a second one, but he pauses right as he’s bringing it to his lips, staring into the middle distance. He hasn’t touched the food. His hand wavers slightly, then he sets the beer down with a clink next to Rei’s ashtray. 

“You can have that one,” he says, getting up. “I’m gonna shower.”

Oh right. Rei hadn’t taken his suit off yet either.

Kazuki trudges upstairs. His figure, in a tuxedo, is sharp and bleak. The soft edges and bright colors of his usual sweaters and loose pants, the unruly texture of his hair—all of it’s gone, and the silhouette that Rei knows as Kazuki is now nothing more than a man in a suit.

Some amount of time passes before Rei gets up. Drinking both beers and eating the food Kazuki had left for him left his head feeling uncomfortably fuzzy. He doesn’t bathe, but he does change into different pants and one of the shirts Kazuki had left conspicuously on the bathroom counter for him to wear. They’re soft and blue. They smell like whatever Kazuki does the laundry with, which means they smell like Kazuki.

Rei curls around himself in the bathtub. He sleeps.

—

The job Kyutaro gives them next is relatively straightforward, but Kazuki manages to bungle it somehow. They take out the target, which is all Rei needs to feel that a mission was successful.

He comes out of it with a few scrapes. Kazuki comes out of it with a long, deep gash in his leg that leaves him limping to the getaway car, face pale and bloodless. He had been careless and absent the entire job, though he had spent an entire week planning and preparing them for it. It isn't clear what happened to him, and he doesn't say a word about it on the drive back, only gritting his teeth against the pain.

Rei spares him a glance. Is he going to die?

It’s unlikely. The wound doesn’t seem to have hit any major arteries. Kazuki rummages around for a length of bandage from the med kit and tears it off with his teeth, wrapping his leg tightly. Rei just drives, preoccupied with the thought of how Kazuki’s canines come to a dull point. They’re the only part of him that doesn’t seem rounded off and child-safe.

“Shit. This fucking hurts,” Kazuki gasps, unnecessarily. The white bandage is rapidly turning a deep red. The floor is speckled with blood. “Can you drive faster?”

No reason not to. Rei speeds up a little.

—

They get back. Kazuki is stumbling around a lot, and props himself against the wall, breathing heavily as Rei unlocks the door.

Kazuki limps upstairs. Rei watches him ascend, then goes to his bathroom to change. Rei has barely finished putting on new clothes when he hears Kazuki calling his name. 

He has never done this before. 

Rei's curiosity compels him to follow the sound up the stairs and into the bathroom. Kazuki is sitting partially on the counter, leg propped up parallel to the sink’s edge.

“I'm trying to do this myself, but it’s… uh. My hands won’t stop shaking,” he explains, looking away like he's embarrassed. His jaw is set and his face is still pale, getting paler. While the wound is deep and still bleeding sluggishly, it’s nothing Rei would’ve passed out from. Either Kazuki’s pain tolerance is low or he’s in shock. Both bad traits for an assassin to have.

Rei looks at him. Kazuki makes a small, frustrated noise, then asks, “Can you stitch me up?”

Rei looks at him.

Kazuki’s eyes are glassy, and they waver in and out of focus as he tries to meet Rei’s stare. 

There’s no reason not to. Kazuki can be a valuable presence. An asset, his father’s voice amends. A tool, worth maintaining.

Silently, Rei reaches for the medical kit Kazuki left open on the bathroom counter. He braces Kazuki’s calf with one hand. The sensations of his fingers on Kazuki’s leg feel distant. Rei is situated somewhere behind his body, his eyes, as he dabs at the wound with alcohol then begins to sew it up with mechanical precision. To his credit, Kazuki tries not to scream. The hitch of his breath when the needle enters and exits echoes loudly in the quiet tiled room, until it’s the only thing Rei can hear, a rhythm that sets the pace of his stitches, the in, pull, out, pull, repeat.

When he’s done, Rei neatly snips the thread, then returns it and the needle to the box. He removes a length of bandage and begins to wind it around Kazuki’s leg, though the necessity of this step is less apparent to him. 

He’s not entirely sure why he does it. It’s something Kazuki could do himself. He feels red eyes on the side of his face, and as he finishes up, Kazuki says, “Thanks, Rei.”

Rei is unable to meet his eyes, lightly flexing his hand at his side as he feels himself settle back into his body, the fading warmth of Kazuki’s skin on his less than a sensation, less than a memory, more like something he read in a book or saw on TV. Something that happened to someone else.

“I’ve got it from here,” Kazuki says, getting to his feet and nearly falling over. His voice is slow and faint, like he’s about to pass out.  “I appreciate it, Rei. I’ve done that before while my hands were shaking and it, ahh. It really didn’t turn out well.”

Rei stands aside as Kazuki stumbles out into the hall, mumbling something that could’ve been a goodnight, a goodbye, or just a wordless noise of pain and exhaustion.

Rei watches him leave, standing in the doorway of the upstairs bathroom.

—

He finds Kazuki laying on the couch a few days later. 

Kazuki is passed out, just wearing a white tank top and boxers, and he reeks of alcohol. He’s laying on his stomach, head pillowed on his arms, and Rei observes him, tracing the lines of his extensor muscles, the faint blond hairs on his hands, some pale scars snaking across the skin. The bandages wrapped around his exposed calf. Kazuki is taking up the place Rei normally sits, but Rei doesn’t want to talk to him or touch him to wake him up. He settles himself in front of the couch instead. Kazuki’s breath flushes hot over the back of his neck.

Rei forgot how loud the audio on his game was turned up, but Kazuki sleeps through the gunfire and screaming with ease. Rei watches him for a moment before concentrating on his game again, not bothering to turn the sound down. It isn’t good for an assassin to sleep so heavily.

An hour later, Kazuki starts mumbling and shifting around, though it’s hard to discern what he’s saying—Rei thinks he hears a woman’s name threaded into whatever gibberish he spouts and the continued shooting from Call of Duty 5. Kazuki’s forearm comes to rest against the back of Rei’s neck. 

It’s quite warm. His skin is flushed from sleep and alcohol, even in the chill of the apartment. Rei feels briefly but strongly that if he were to lean his head back and rest his skull on the soft muscle of Kazuki’s arm, it would relieve some of the pain he always feels there, the constant stiffness that comes from holding himself tense at all times.

He doesn’t know why he thinks that. It feels foreign to imagine any kind of relief.

An hour or so from then, Kazuki stirs once more. He moves his arm again, and the way it brushes across Rei’s neck feels like a caress. He thinks of Kazuki’s hand on their target’s chest, the target’s hands on Kazuki’s waist, the warmth of Kazuki’s fingers in his hair, the soft feel of the t-shirts Kazuki bought him, and he’s so caught up in that and in racking up kills in the game that he barely notices Kazuki moving again, making sounds that indicate he’s finally woken up.

It takes a minute for him to notice Rei’s presence. 

“Rei?!” Kazuki yelps, when he does, and nearly falls to the ground trying to scramble away from him.

“Mm.”

“Rei!” Like an admonishment. But his voice is rough, a little slurred. “You scared the fuck outta me man, what the fuck—”

He’s being noisy. Rei squints, like that’ll make his voice quieter. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“How long have you—just sitting ther–huh?” Kazuki stops. Good. It was getting distracting.

“Oh,” says Kazuki. Rei glances over his shoulder. Kazuki is slumped over himself, hands curled around each other in his lap, looking at him with hazy eyes. Faint moonlight glints wetly off them, making them look huge. “You didn’t wanna wake me up?”

He shrugs.

“You could’ve.” Kazuki clutches the edge of the couch, leaning over so much he's almost falling off. There's a helpless note in his voice. Something pleading? 

Rei isn’t sure. He makes a noncommittal noise.

“Oh,” Kazuki repeats. His eyes are really shiny. “M’sorry, Rei.”

Rei can’t help it. He’s curious. “Why?”

“Cause you–” Kazuki pauses, sniffling. “You—” 

Rei really wishes he would finish his sentences, but all he says after that is “I dunno. I dunno.” a little choked up. Is he crying?

“Are you crying?” he asks.

“N-no,” says Kazuki, who is definitely crying, though he’s trying to pretend like he isn’t. It’s kind of awkward. Rei turns back to his game and turns up the volume a bit so he can’t hear Kazuki’s quiet, ragged breaths.

“At’s so.. Damn loud.” He’s definitely still drunk. His voice is thick with mucus. It sounds like he’s talking to someone else, though he gestures weakly at the television. “I didn’t wake up with all that going on? Fuck. Fuck me.”

“Pathetic,” Rei says.

For a minute, he thinks Kazuki is choking on his own spit, but then Rei realizes he’s laughing. He keeps on laughing. Says wetly, “Right?” and gets back to it. That’s also a bit awkward, but Rei lets him do it, even when the laughing starts to sound like sobbing, and then Kazuki is just coughing a bit, then he’s quiet. 

Rei takes a hand off the controller to reach for a cigarette and light it, but before he can, Kazuki’s voice sounds right next to his ear. 

“Rei?” he says, like he has to be this close to get Rei’s attention. 

Rei doesn’t respond to that, tapping a cigarette out of the box.

Kazuki continues. “Thanks for lettin’ me stay here.”

His fingers don’t stop moving, but Rei’s mind feels locked up, like a gear somewhere got caught. He puts the cigarette between his lips and lights it. Exhales a plume of smoke that drifts up to the ceiling. Kazuki, used to his silences, just hums and lays back down on the couch, watching the TV over Rei’s shoulder.

“Couldja turn it down a bit,” he says.

“No,” Rei replies automatically.

“Bastard.” 

Kazuki buries his face in the couch cushions.

Rei doesn't move, letting him stay there, just within reach.