Work Text:
1.
He can’t find his coat. Considering the fact that he wears sandals and a tank top most of the time he needs the damn thing; Osaka isn’t especially cold, but a guy only needs to hear a drag queen talking about how perky his nipples are once. He needs the coat.
It’s not on the hook by the door, or on the back of his chair, or slung over one of the massage tables as is sometimes the case and despite it being just a coat it sets his teeth on edge. Could be nothing, could be someone sending a message. Lee’s not especially fond of those or what has to come after.
He frowns and heads out the door anyway, careful to check the lock after closing up for the night. Majima’d brought a hell of a lot more shit to his doorstep, can never be too careful.
--
It’s Majima that solves the mystery of his coat, though. Comes traipsing in to the office wrapped up like he’s travelling through Siberia-in Lee’s coat.
“Looks like it’s how they say,” Lee says. He looks him up and down, takes in the way the coat hangs so loose on Majima it looks like a tent and how it makes the sleeves bunch up at his wrists though height wise he’s only got a few inches on him. He chuckles as Majima eyes him, “criminal returns to the scene of the crime.”
“Huh?”
He nods his head at the coat and Majima has the balls to shrug, “fuckin’ cold out.”
“Not wrong about that. Would think the manager of such a ritzy club would have a winter coat, guess I thought wrong.”
“Ain’t worth buyin’. Doesn’t get cold enough,” he slides out of the coat and tosses it at him. It lands on the desk and sends the cup of pens toppling over and the contents rolling across the surface of the desk before dropping to the floor.
“Cold enough for ya to steal it though, huh?”
Majima’s hard to read in some respects. The guy’s so tightly wound Lee sees the edges of him fraying in real time, the last string of his control slowly unwinding; he wonders what a guy like Majima’ll do when he’s really desperate. But under all that, or maybe above all that, he’s trying to be something close to a good guy. Lee knows the feeling of restraints and cages-somehow he thinks Majima’s aren’t self-imposed-and there’s a hell of a difference.
“Whatever, I’ll buy ya a new fuckin’ coat if that’s what ya want.”
“Nah.”
He sees his chest rise and fall a few times making his nostrils flare and then he settles into a casual stance; he wonders if Majima’d even noticed how tightly he’d clenched his fists.
--
“I think he’s missing someone,” Makoto says over dinner. The poor kid’s staring at her udon, shoulders down, and poking at a piece of carrot. Lee swallows a mouthful of his own before lifting a few strips of meat and putting them into her bowl.
“Don’t ya worry about him, worry about yourself. Majima’s a tough guy.”
She nods, but doesn’t eat.
“Eat up or I’ll steal it off of ya.”
She manages a mouthful and he sighs.
“Listen, Makoto, there’s some shit a guy’s just gotta work out on his own.”
“But doesn’t he seem sad?” she asks and damn the kid’s like a dog with a bone but that’s probably what kept her alive ‘til now, that stubbornness. He grunts, agreeing.
“He’s a big boy, he can tell us if something’s eatin’ him.”
“Couldn’t you ask him?” she raises her head, probably out of habit considering, and he tries to avoid her stare. If there ever was a definition of puppy dog eyes there’d be a picture of her right now right beside it. “Lee?”
He sighs again, and hunkers down in his chair, “alright, already.”
She grins, and digs in to her dinner and he can only shake his head.
--
Having any sort of serious conversation about Majima with Majima turns out to be harder than anticipated. The guy knows how to deflect like a champ, and when that fails he shuts down faster than a shitty cabaret.
It takes awhile, but an opportunity comes.
It’s late and he’s just finished setting everything into its place, Makoto gone home for the night and Majima waiting in the front room. He heads down the hall and finds him playing the thief again, burrowed into Lee’s coat with his feet propped up on the desk. He opens his mouth to comment on it but stops. His eye is shut and his lips slightly parted, neck all bent out of shape in the way only truly exhausted people manage.
He looks pretty cute, all wrapped up like that, and Lee smiles. Majima’s a good looking guy for sure, but even when he’s sleeping he looks troubled. He flicks off the light then heads over. There’s a cigarette halfway burnt down in the ashtray and Lee stubs it out before he reaches out. His thumb presses against the lines between Majima’s brows and Majima’s eye squeezes further shut.
“Bro, quit it,” he mumbles, then goes stiller than a corpse.
“Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty.”
Majima smacks his hand away, eye wild as he pushes himself up to his feet and sends the chair scraping along the floor. “The fuck ya doin’, Lee?”
“A bro, huh,” he asks. He sees Majima’s shoulders rising and falling in the light from the window, “must be rough.”
“It ain’t,” he snaps and Lee slams his hand on the door before he can open it. In hindsight it’s about the fastest he’s ever moved since he busted Makoto out.
“I ain’t tryin’ to corner ya. Makoto’s just real worried about ya.”
Majima cracks him across the cheek and Lee grins. “Ya wanna know so bad? Then fuckin’ beat it outta me.”
“If that’s how it’s gonna be,” Lee agrees and strikes.
His hand finds Majima’s arm and starts to twist, but the skinny fucker is slippery. He slides out of his grasp and jabs one of his pointy elbows into Lee’s side, just about where he’s still sore from getting riddled with bullets. It’s calculated, and Lee only grins through the pain-he knew he could count on Majima for a good, dirty fight.
They circle one another for half a second before Majima’s jumping at him. He’s easy enough to catch, and Lee does so. He uses the momentum to swing him around and slam him into the wall. One of the picture frames, just set right after last time, comes crashing down. Majima snarls at him, the tips of his shoes scrape against the ground and Lee lets his guard down for half a second.
It’s enough for Majima to kick him right in the dick and his grip loosens enough for Majima to once again escape as he fights the urge to go down like a sack of potatoes. The first punch hits the same place as the first, his cheek, and the next find his gut.
He laughs, raising his arms to block the next volley, “Not half bad, Majima. But if you’re plannin’ on exploitin’ that weakness better make sure your mark goes down, huh?”
“You’re a tougher son of a bitch than I thought, Lee,” Majima grins at him, wild, and Lee catches the next punch.
Majima howls as he twists his arm up, and Lee cuts him a break by not destroying the tendon in his shoulder. He shouldn’t have. Majima drops and kicks his knee out of from under him. He lands heavily and Majima’s up behind him the next second, arms around his neck.
The guy knows his stuff, but he’s cutting Lee some slack too not cutting off his airway immediately. He throws himself onto his side and feels his grip falter half a second long enough for him to yank both arms away from his neck. He wheezes-shit, he’s getting too old for this-and pivots on the floor so he’s facing him again.
“Had enough?” Majima asks, triumphant, which makes tackling him that much easier.
The scuffle lasts for only a second, Lee’s strength overpowering Majima’s until he’s got both Majima’s elbows trapped with his own and their legs are tangled together.
“Nah. You?”
He feels him shudder under him and raises his eyebrows, “Ready to talk?”
Majima takes a breath then sighs, “yeah. Fine.”
He should expect him to attack again. He doesn’t. He goes down like a sack of potatoes at the speed of it, head hitting the floor so hard he sees white. Majima looks almost disappointed, and Lee gets the picture that whoever that bro of his is they hadn’t been strangers to fighting it out. He expects him to hit him. His fist is raised, but he only stares at him, the light from the window cutting across his face and highlighting that same disappointed expression.
“Dirty trick, Majima.”
“Against a guy as big as you what the hell choice do I have?” he asks and watches Lee’s hand go up but doesn’t stop him from grabbing his wrist.
“Not the same as the one you’re thinkin’ of though, huh?”
If he listens careful he can probably hear Majima grinding his teeth into dust, but as it is he just sees his jaw clench and his head drop as he shakes it.
“Must be a hell of a guy then.”
“Yeah.”
“Come on, get up, I’ll put your shoulder back in place,” he says and Majima doesn’t say anything as he stands. He doesn’t look so triumphant now, Lee wonders where the hell he’d gone wrong aside from not being the guy Majima’s after.
He hops up onto the desk and Lee moves up beside him, “where’s he at now?”
“Jail. Should be there with him but,” he laughs, hollow, and Lee just nods.
Majima’s a mess of tension, he carries it everywhere, but he doesn’t even start to get the idea that he’d let him work him over even if he probably needs it.
“Take off your shirt.”
Majima shrugs off his suit jacket with a wince then undoes the buttons of his shirt next, “ya offer your services to every guy ya fight?”
“Nah, you’re just special’s all.”
He scoffs and jolts when Lee sets his hands on his arm.
“You ever lose someone?”
“All kinds. Triad’s no better than the yakuza,” he answers and slides his hands up to his shoulder, “what about you? Get hard every fight?”
“Must be you’re just special.”
Lee chuckles and Majima grunts as he sets his shoulder back into place, “ah, well keep sweet talkin’ me like that and I might give ya the God Hands Special.”
Majima rolls his eye, but turns his head toward him, “fight me again like ya did and I might let ya.”
“So it’s like that, huh?” he asks and it really has been too long since he’s indulged in anything other than the occasional solo adventure because he feels himself start to get hard just from the promise of getting his hands on him.
“Think ya can handle it, Lee?”
“Oh I think I can handle it just fine.”
--
He settles into the bed at his place with a groan, but it feels good being so wrung out. Majima sits beside him, staring out the tiny window and smoking a cigarette. That look from before is back, like he’s so far off into space that Lee’ll need to hook him like a fish to drag him back.
“Ya do that with your bro every time?”
Majima doesn’t answer at first, then exhales the smoke in his mouth, “nah, wasn’t like that between us.”
“No?”
“Just said it wasn’t, didn’t I? We helped each other out sometimes, but that’s all it was.”
He leans over and hooks his arm around his waist and yanks him over sideways, “huh. Don’t seem like that type, Majima.”
“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” he swivels his head all the way around to glare at him, squirming in his grip.
“Not goin’ for what ya want.”
“Ain’t like there’s a good time for that conversation.”
“Ya love him?” he asks. Majima turns his head away. He stops struggling to escape, and Lee wonders if he’s imagining someone else’s arms around him.
“Who knows.”
“He’s all ya got, huh?” he shakes him, “good thing ya got me n’Makoto now too.”
Majima huffs, “just gonna insert yourself into my life?”
“Already inserted myself into some other places, so why not?”
“Already startin’ to regret it, too,” Majima grins though, and relaxes into the space between his arm and stomach. It’s been awhile since he’s had someone lying like this in his bed; maybe he’s a little desperate too, a little too willing to settle for being a stand in but he doesn’t bother getting bent out of shape about it. Things like this, they tend to go just as quick as they came-he’s made a point of holding onto them when he can.
He curls his arm up and settles his hand on Majima’s head and takes the cigarette he holds out.
“Staying the night?”
“Nah. Can’t, my stalkers’ll be all over this place too if I do.”
“Alright.”
He grunts and Lee combs his fingers through his hair, making him sigh with what can only be contentment. He mumbles, “Just gonna stay a little bit longer.”
Shit, he really is a sucker, isn’t he?
--
“Stopped pretending,” Lee comments and Majima shrugs under the weight of Lee’s jacket as he walks in with it on.
“Just had to do some shit for one of the girls at the club.”
He grins, wanting to pull him in by the front of his stolen jacket, but the door opens again and one of his regulars steps in.
“Ah, Lee,” he says in Mandarin and glances over at Majima sliding his coat onto the back of the chair, “friend of yours?”
“He’s just waiting for an appointment with my apprentice,” he answers in the same. He still doubts Majima will let him get his hands on him for real. Makoto is gentler; she’ll grow out of it eventually.
“Kids don’t know what’s good for ‘em,” Zhang says with a wave of his hand, “they’re too soft these days.”
He chuckles-soft isn’t exactly a word he’d use to describe Majima, though there’s plenty of it in him too, “hey, Majima, just going in with a client.”
“Yeah,” he answers and sets himself up with a cigarette by the window.
Lee almost wishes he’d kept the coat on. There’s something about seeing him all trussed up in something of his, not like Lee’s a saint either, he knows it’s possessiveness but Majima seems content to encourage it. Wearing his coat, smoking his cigarettes then going to work smelling like Lee-or maybe Lee’s got it all wrong, and Majima’s the one who’s gotten all greedy about sharing his stuff and wants to run off anyone who might be giving Lee eyes. Doesn’t matter, something’s got Majima coming back to him even if it’s just passing resemblance to someone else.
He sighs, and Zhang makes a questioning noise.
“Nah, nothin’. Just go ahead and get yourself comfortable.”
--
4.
“Shit, Majima,” he says and Majima crosses his arms over his chest. The black dress hugs every curve of his body and ends at the top of his thighs, just long enough to cover his ass but not quite enough to hide the tattoos that extend halfway down his legs. His hair falls around his face in soft curls, and his lips are hot pink and glossy to match the snakeskin shoes on his feet.
“It’s Goromi.”
“Oh yeah? Got it all figured out, huh? Suits ya,” he reaches out and Goromi steps back.
“This ain’t a pettin’ zoo, hands off.”
“Alright, alright. We play it by your rules, I got it,” he says with a smirk. Must be something Majima’s done before, his nails are painted the same colour as his lips, and the large earrings in both ears match the silver studs along the shoulders of the long sleeved dress.
Goromi shifts and he looks her up and down again. Seems she’s a bit self-conscious, but he can’t say he blames her, or maybe her feet just hurt with how high those heels are.
“Got plans for tonight?”
She shrugs and he raises his eyebrows, “what? Feelin’ self-concious? Ain’t the weirdest thing I’ve seen in my line of work, y’know. Like I said, it suits ya.”
He takes a step forward and she takes one back, tossing her head enough that he sees the mass of white scars around her left eye.
“Ya said that you’d take me out, so take me out, Lee.”
He has to look up ever so slightly to meet her eyes, “long as ya let me back before midnight I figure it’ll be okay.”
“What, ya turn into a pumpkin?”
“Could always find out.”
More like he’s bound to fall asleep on any vaguely horizontal surface, but he lets her come up with her own ideas. It’s not too weird to think of her as girl when she’s dressed as one; he wonders if this is how Majima would like to dress all the time or if it’s just a way to destress. Goromi doesn’t seem as wound up as Majima at least.
He grabs his coat off the hook and throws it on before offering his arm. It smells like Majima’s cologne more than himself now, “you’re gonna freeze like that, Goromi.”
“What’d’ya mean? I got a coat right here,” she says with a flash of her teeth as she takes his arm.
He figures that’s about right.
“And don’t think ya can get away with just takin’ me to Mahjong, either.”
“Classy girl like you? Nah. How about karaoke?”
“You’re tryin’ to tell me ya do karaoke?” she asks, surprise plain as day on her face. He wonders if that bro of Majima’s knows about this side of Majima, or if he’s just lucky. Must not have been big on karaoke though, with how surprised she looks that he’d suggested it.
“Sure. They got a couple songs I know at Utahime.”
She cackles and bounces on her heels, “I gotta see this.”
He shouldn’t be getting so attached, he’s just a stand-in and Majima’s got it bad for Makoto too. But a guy like him’s gotta take what he can get. He’s living on borrowed time as it is, he knows that the Omi’s breathing down his neck and that’s just the Japanese side of things. He isn’t stupid enough to think his old employers’ll be letting him off the hook anytime soon.
The Omi’s goons are on their ass immediately; he wonders if it’s cause of him or if they know the woman on his arm is Majima. He only keeps a bead on them, though. No way they’re making a move now, Omi’s smart enough to wait until they tell them what they want to know rather than making a scene. Lee likes to think he’s given them the impression he’s not to be fucked with but the truth is probably something less complimentary of him.
“Can’t tell if those fuckers are for me or you,” Goromi says in his ear.
“They know about ya?”
She taps a finger against her chin, “I wonder.”
“If they know what ya got on your back they probably got an idea. Who knew ya were such a racy girl.”
“Lots about me ya don’t know about, Lee,” her lips brush his cheek then she pulls back.
“Ya gonna let me find out about ‘em?”
“If ya treat me real nice.”
He laughs and she echoes it, her voice higher than Majima’s but not quite as airy sounding as others girls’. He likes it, though, suits her. “So ya do this all yourself or get some help?”
“The hair, yeah, Ai helped me. And this is Saki’s dress, but other than that, nah.”
“Not your first rodeo then huh?”
“Nah,” she says, quiet enough that it’s almost overwhelmed by the sounds of Sotenbori’s rowdy evening crowd. “Never with my bro, though.”
“Alone? Ballsy as hell, Goromi. Kinda expected that from ya though.”
She smiles, “if you’re tryin’ to butter me up it ain’t gonna work.”
“No? Too bad, and here I had all kinds’a nice things to say about ya.”
“I never said stop tryin’,” she shakes his arm-he likes this carefree side of Majima, he decides. Sure it’s stupid, them being out like this when Makoto’s back at his apartment, and he feels so damn guilty about keeping her cooped up that if it wouldn’t get her killed he’d be dragging her out with them, but it’s almost worth it. Majima’s gonna blow a gasket if he keeps going like he was, and that’s one less person to keep Makoto safe if he does. But shit, that’s all excuses, Goromi’s good mood is just infectious as hell.
He laughs again and they keep walking to the karaoke place.
--
After a particularly rousing rendition of Shanghai Beach, Lee drops back down into the booth. Goromi is grinning, face flushed from the three drinks she’s knocked back and how enthusiastically she’d been yelling terribly pronounced mimics of his words to egg him on.
“Ya ain’t bad, Lee, almost got me to shed a tear there.”
“Don’t usually like makin’ pretty girls cry, so good thing ya didn’t. Ya gonna give it a go?”
She leans against his shoulder, one of her shoes dangling off her foot, then rolls up to her feet, “yeah, guess I’ll give a try.”
He recognizes Heartbreak Mermaid right away, and raises his eyebrow at her but does his duty and hollers right along with her. He’s not sure if what she’s doing technically counts as singing, but it is enthusiastic. She’s got half the bar singing along with her by the time the last chorus comes up and she drops onto his lap when she finishes.
“So. How’s my singin’?”
“Like an angel.”
She sputters out a laugh then shoves her face into his neck and laughs some more, though by the end it starts to sound a little too close to a sob for his comfort. He sets a hand on her back and she breathes out.
“Ya gonna do another song?”
“Maybe, if ya think you’re sober enough to handle it.”
“I can handle it just fine,” she answers and there’s a heart in his chest for sure, because it’s about full right now. This life’s really turned him soft after all.
“Alright. After this guy then.”
--
They totter out of Utahime around 11:45, and Lee’s already got his eyes on the way home. Sleep’s been hard to come by since the first time Majima’d shown up for a few reasons, but at least most of them ought to be over with soon. Goromi’s drunk and plastered to his side, grinning like a fool as she stumbles along. She’s got his coat draped over her shoulders, and Lee looks upwards.
“Sky’s all lit up tonight.”
“Sky?” she asks then laughs, “ya tryin’ to say some corny shit to me right now, Lee?”
“Nah.”
“Too bad. I was thinkin’ about lettin’ ya take me home an’ all.”
“Knew ya were that kinda girl.”
“Oi, I ain’t no kinda girl, m’jus’ tryin’ to have a good time,” she says and looks up too, “ya think the sky’s the same for everyone?”
“The hell? Sky’s the same everywhere.”
“Yeah,” she says with a loud sniff, “guess you’re right.”
He tightens his arm around her. He wonders if he’ll die first or stop being a sucker first. He guesses he’ll find out.
“Had a good time tonight,” Goromi says when they’re halfway to his place.
“Yeah? Good, was startin’ to think you were tellin’ me to never-”
“Makes me wanna suck your dick,” she steps in front of him, though she still has to use his shoulders as a support.
“Got a place in mind? Makoto’s at mine.”
“Love hotel?”
He thinks he remembers one back towards work, so he heads down that way, Goromi trailing behind him.
--
She’s on him immediately as soon as he closes the door and makes it within falling distance of the bed, the same power as Majima’s attacks behind hers. He doesn’t fight back. The room is standard, looking over Sotenbori not that he can get much of a look at it before she’s turning his head with her hand.
“Not gonna make me fight a lady, are ya?” he grabs her ass in both of his hands and she grins, predatory.
“Not in Saki’s dress.”
He yawns and she bends down to kiss him. She’s as rough as Majima, but he wouldn’t have expected any different. She kisses like she’s dying of thirst in the desert and he’s the last bit of water, frantic and probably too overwhelming for most people. Luckily, Lee isn’t most people.
“After all this stuff with Makoto, what’re ya gonna do, Goromi?”
She pushes her hair out of her face and sits back on his stomach, tongue licking the last of her lipgloss off, “huh? What’d’ya mean? C’mon, don’t kill the mood.”
“Goin’ back to the yakuza’s the plan, ain’t it?”
She bends down again and he slides a hand into her hair to stop her, “guy’s gotta know if his heart’ll get broken, y’know.”
It’s not his on the line, though. He isn’t stupid enough to think Makoto hasn’t fallen for Majima a bit too-the pair of them are skirting around it, but he’s seen enough of that to know it when he sees it. And fuck if he hasn’t caught himself mooning over Majima too like someone half his age. The guy’s got a way of sucking people in.
“That’s the plan,” she answers and fights his grip on her hair to kiss him once before asking, “that a problem?”
“Nah. Like I said, just gotta make sure I don’t fall too hard for ya.”
She laughs, and maybe he’s fooling himself but he hears that same sharp edge to it as from the karaoke place. He joins in on the laughter and she relaxes, propping herself up on his chest with her elbow.
“Y’know I came here to suck your dick, not have a conversation.”
“Ah, well, I ain’t gonna stop ya.”
--
Majima shivers in spite of how hot his blood is running. His hands go for a coat that doesn’t exist, that’s been blown to hell along with its idiot owner. He clenches his jaw and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants-they’re nowhere near as warm as he wants them to be.
He shoves a cigarette between his lips and heads towards the taxi stand. He’s gotta finish this, for Makoto, for everyone.