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The call came when Kamurocho’s streets were at their busiest, employees barking out the latest deals to half-interested bystanders hell-bent on finding a new dive that wouldn’t drain their wallets completely. Majima puffed on a stale cigarette as he watched a group of young punks stick out their chests and attempt to waltz into an expensive club that was way above their paygrades. They’d be kicked out in no time. Either they were planning on throwing around daddy’s money or they were going to dine-and-dash – no business owner would be willing to take that gamble.
Majima was curious to see if his hunch was right, but the caller id displayed on his vibrating phone became the new object of his attention. “Unknown caller,” it read, and in Majima’s experience that was never a good sign. The best case scenario was that it was an everyday scammer dialing any random number that came to mind, but there was always a chance that some bull-headed yakuza using a burner would try to threaten money from him. He wasn’t the easiest target, but having the largest Tojo Clan family made Majima a target nonetheless.
He answered the call with a curt “What do ya want?” and was surprised to hear a familiar voice on the other line.
“Majima? It’s Emoto,” he said, disregarding Majima’s bluntness like he was a child having an outburst. “…from the clinic.”
“I know who ya are!” Majima responded, annoyed that his tone had had no effect on the seasoned doctor – not even a shaky voice. “I’ve been there before, remember?”
“How could I forget?” The question was rhetorical, sarcastic. It made Majima roll his eye so hard that it ached.
“What d’ya want?!”
Emoto exhaled and remained silent for a few moments as if to exert his control and annoy Majima even more. When he finally spoke, the frustration left Majima’s body, and worry replaced it with a cold sweat. “It’s Kiryu,” Emoto said. “He’s here and – "
“Is he okay? What happened?” Majima couldn’t help but interrupt.
“Yeah, yeah, he’s fine,” Emoto said as if bored. “I mean, he was stabbed but – "
“What!?”
Emoto sighed. “He’s fine now,” he asserted once more. “Told me to call you. I need you to pick him up and get him out of here. I have other patients and it’s too crowded.”
Majima scoffed. “Ya want me to take a guy who’s just been stabbed? Doesn’t seem very professional.”
“I’m not professional,” Emoto retorted. “Isn’t that the point? Now are you coming or should I wheel him out onto the sidewalk?”
“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Hold your fuckin’ horses!” Majima said before hanging up and leaning his head back against the brick wall behind him. What had Kiryu gotten himself into this time? Majima tried to think of a situation where Kiryu would allow himself to get stabbed like any other useless punk who thought he owned Kamurocho, but he came up blank. Even imagining Kiryu in a state of severe hurt was an unsurmountable feat – the man was just too strong. These grim reminders of the Dragon of Dojima’s mortality always seemed surreal in a way, like a hazy nightmare surfacing in reality.
Majima sighed and pushed himself off of the wall. He figured that he had better get a move on before Emoto really did shoo Kiryu out into some back alley. Why Kiryu didn’t call his little police detective friend instead was beyond him – Majima would definitely have to rub this in Date’s face if he ever saw him again.
Smirking to himself, Majima quickly dialed Nishida to get a van ready for them. Kiryu deserved the Majima Family chauffeur experience after his piss poor night. Majima was going to make sure he rode home in style. Nishida got off the phone with a meek “yes boss,” prompting Majima to pick up the pace.
After all, he didn’t want to keep Kiryu waiting.
“He’s a bit out of it.”
Emoto’s words were certainly an understatement. Majima’s knees were currently about to buckle under the weight of Kiryu’s body against his side as the other man struggled to stand. Kiryu seemed unperturbed by Majima’s strained grunts, instead occupying himself with running his fingers across the shaved hairs on Majima’s neck.
“What the fuck did ya give him?” Majima asked, trying to adjust Kiryu’s weight with an arm around his waist. He was careful to avoid the bandages wrapped around the freshly-stitched wound, another soon-to-be scar on Kiryu’s battle-seasoned figure.
“Just a local anesthetic and some pain medication,” Emoto said with a shrug. “They were pretty strong meds, though, and it’s probably all he has in his system right now. The guy puked a few times in my operating room, so when he’s coherent tell him I said thanks for that. And here,” Emoto tossed an unlabeled tube of pills into Majima’s hands. “Give him one or two before he goes to sleep. Get some electrolytes in him too.”
Majima wasn’t too keen on being bossed around, but he would suck it up for Kiryu’s sake. The other man’s eyes were distant and hooded, directed towards one particularly bright neon sign shining its light through Emoto’s windows. He had never seen Kiryu look so dazed – the Dragon of Dojima was too disoriented to tell left from right. The mere thought of how ridiculous the situation was made Majima chuckle. “Yeah, sure,” Majima said, waving to Emoto as he maneuvered Kiryu towards the door. “See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya.”
With the door shut behind them and Emoto occupied with another patient, Kiryu wearily turned to Majima. The sudden puffs of air from Kiryu’s nostrils tickled Majima’s neck so much so that Majima felt his entire body tense with a case of the chills. “Where are we going?” Kiryu asked in a whisper like the answer was a secret meant to be guarded.
“Nishida’s waitin’ out front with a car. We’re gonna take you…” Majima became lost in thought wondering exactly what he should do with the confused, recently wounded man. Leaving him at alone home or in a hotel seemed like a bad idea when Kiryu was in such a state. He couldn’t take him to the family office either – letting his boys see Kiryu in a weakened condition would give rise to jokes at Kiryu’s expense, and Majima could not let that happen. “…You’re comin to my apartment,” Majima finally said. “Gonna let ya rest there.”
“Are you staying?” Kiryu asked, still in a whisper.
“Yeah, ya doofus. It’s my home.” Majima couldn’t help but smile.
“Right. And I can sleep there?”
“Sure can.”
“Thank you, Majima-no-niisan,” Kiryu said, his voice low and genuine as if Majima had just given him one million yen instead of a warm bed to sleep on.
“Don’t mention it,” Majima said with a pat to Kiryu’s lean shoulder.
The bright, flashing hazard lights of Nishida’s van were easy to spot in the creeping darkness. Wisps of remaining sunlight could be spotted amongst the clouds, adding a layer of orange to the otherwise overcast sky, but other than that, man-made lights illuminated the busy streets. Majima smelled the faint, distinct scent of rain and felt lucky that they would just barely miss the oncoming shower. Propping Kiryu up against his shoulder, Majima opened the sleek black door of the van and helped Kiryu step inside.
“Where to?” Nishida asked light-heartedly, assuming the role of chauffeur with a bit of humor.
“Kanrai,” Kiryu said before Majima could open his mouth.
“What? No, take us to my place,” Majima said, snorting. As he leaned over Kiryu to help him with his seatbelt, Kiryu stared at him with a look of utter betrayal, eyes wide and lips parted.
“I want barbecue,” he said, his voice showing no signs of teasing. Majima almost felt bad about denying him when Kiryu was looking at him with those puppy-dog eyes. Clicking his seatbelt into place, Majima gave Kiryu’s shoulder a soft pat.
“How about I have Nishida get us some take-out once you’re all settled in? That sound good?” Majima asked. He hoped that the suggestion would mark the return of Kiryu’s typical pokerface. As much as Majima was enjoying Kiryu’s expressiveness, he didn’t like to see the man’s brows furrowed with distress. Luckily, the idea seemed to appease Kiryu, for he nodded and rested his head back against the leather headrest, eyes drifting shut and a huff escaping his lips.
“Ya tired or are ya hurting?” Majima asked, leaning closer to his companion to get a better look at his expression. Typically, Majima wouldn’t worry too much about Kiryu – the Dragon of Dojima was the strongest person he knew. However, for as much as Majima enjoyed wielding his tanto, getting stabbed wasn’t exactly customary for Kiryu. Majima may seem wild on the outside, but he brandished his weapon with surgical precision, careful to only leave minor cuts and provoke fear. Kiryu would always be okay after their fights, Majima made sure of it. This was different, though. This had been a wound meant to maim or even kill, and for still being alive, Kiryu deserved to be doted on.
“Yeah, ‘m fine,” Kiryu said, quelling Majima’s concern with his silky smooth voice. “I can’t really feel a thing, actually. It hurt like hell when it happened, though.”
“How did it happen?” Majima asked. He only hoped that the person responsible had received a proper beating afterwards.
“I didn’t actually see the guy,” Kiryu mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed once more. “It happened out of nowhere. I was walking in the Champion District, and the next thing I knew, it felt like my side was on fire and my wallet was missing…not that there was much in it anyway. So I walked down to Emoto’s and had him patch me up.”
“Ya walked the whole way?” Majima held himself back from gaping. He was no stranger to masking pain, but Kiryu was on a whole other level. The man’s strength and resolve never ceased to amaze him.
“Yeah,” Kiryu said. “I’ll probably feel the effects tomorrow, but you’ll be there.”
“Oh, will I?” Majima joked. If this was going to turn into an endeavor that extended beyond the night, then Majima expected Emoto to buy some scrubs.
“Yes?” Kiryu said, his eyebrows knitting again in a way that made Majima’s heart skip a beat. How could he say no to that face?
Nishida pulled into the apartment building parking lot and carefully backed into an empty space, the engine coming to a halt with a low growl. Kiryu made no moves to help himself out of the vehicle, sitting frozen like a useless statue. When Majima rolled his eye and reached over to unclick Kiryu’s seatbelt, he felt a strong hand lightly smack his bottom followed by a chuckle from the man above him. Majima’s face heated up, but the spontaneity of the uncharacteristic action made him feel shock above all else. He looked up at a grinning Kiryu, an eyebrow questioningly raised. “Did ya just swat my ass?” Majima asked, noticing Nishida turn around in his seat to look back at them.
“Kind of.”
“Kind of?"
“Sorry,” Kiryu said, genuinely looking upset. Majima would let this one slide, blaming the strangeness of Kiryu’s behavior on the medication. In the future, though, he’d make sure Kiryu asked before playing with his emotions like this.
“Don’t get all freaky on me, Kiryu-chan,” Majima replied, pulling Kiryu from his seat and out of the car. Before heading inside, he tossed his wallet to Nishida, the other man clumsily juggling the object between his hands before finally catching it. “Grab us some barbecue, will ya?”
Kiryu leaned against Majima as they climbed the two flights of stairs, his arm sprawled lazily across Majima’s shoulders. Majima held him close – he was unsure of how steady Kiryu was on his feet, but he certainly wasn’t going to let the man tumble to his demise down a dim stairwell. Once through the heavy door to his living quarters, Kiryu looked around in amazement, seemingly stunned that Majima had a place of his own and didn’t simply reside in the family office at all times. Taking off their shoes, the two men ventured to a soft couch where Majima safely deposited his precious luggage. Kiryu sprawled out with a happy sigh and patted the cushion next to him, looking up at Majima expectantly.
“Hold on, I’m gettin’ ya some water,” Majima mumbled, quickly returning with a nice, cool glass for Kiryu. The man tilted his head and downed the water in a handful of large gulps. Majima watched his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow, resisting the urge to adopt Kiryu’s weird behavior and feel the man’s throat move underneath his gloved fingers. Growling, Majima shook the strange thought from his head and slumped down beside Kiryu keeping some distance between their thighs.
“So why did ya call me to come get ya instead of Date or any of your other little friends?” Majima asked, a sudden awkwardness creeping up his spine. He hoped that Kiryu would have fallen right asleep, but now the man seemed wide awake. Majima didn’t know what to do to occupy him – he wasn’t the best host, at least not since he left the Grand.
Kiryu set down his glass and wrinkled his brow, thinking long and hard for a few silent moments. “Because I wanted you to come. I missed you.”
“Ya missed me?” The casualness with which Kiryu revealed that information made Majima avert his gaze. It seemed like a secret not meant for Majima’s ears, but he was indulging anyway. “How come?”
“You always know how to make me feel better,” Kiryu said with a shrug. “And I was feeling shitty.”
“And?” Majima asked. “Do ya feel better?”
Kiryu chuckled and pulled his feet up onto the couch cushion, maneuvering his body to face Majima’s and looking at him with a soft smile. “What did it feel like when you got stabbed?” he asked suddenly, the change of topic rattling Majima’s brain.
“Umm…” Majima ran a hand through his hair. Keeping a conversation flowing usually came so easy to him, like he was born with a natural talent to smooth-talk, but now he found his mind going blank. Under the leather of his gloves, his palms were sweaty, and that simple fact annoyed him. Who was he to get nervous from a simple conversation? If in that moment he could tear he racing heart from his chest and crush it beneath his foot, he would. “It hurt like shit,” was his eloquent response. “It didn’t help that I leaned into the blow and just made the knife go deeper. I had to go to an actual hospital after that. Wasn’t pretty.”
Kiryu wouldn’t meet his gaze, staring instead at the red fabric of the sofa. “I should’ve visited,” he mumbled.
“It’s fine,” Majima said back, shrugging. “It was a weird time for ya. Don’t worry about it.”
“Can I see? The scar, I mean.”
“Er…sure.” Majima awkwardly shifted the hem of his leather pants and pulled the flaps of his jacket to the side to reveal the gnarly scar. The wound was fully healed save for some pink spots along where the knife cut the deepest. It stretched a short length across his abdomen, a permanent reminder of his brief dance with death.
Kiryu leaned closer to get a better look at the scar, his eyes scanning the expanse of skin. He reached out a hand and let his thumb softly touch the raised skin while Majima held his breath. Majima was sure that Kiryu could hear his heart beating like it was in overdrive, or at the very least he could feel the goosebumps that had appeared under his touch. “And you did this for me,” Kiryu said in a hushed voice, his breath against Majima’s skin making Majima tense for the second time that night.
“Yeah. Wasn’t gonna let ya get offed by one of my dumbass subordinates.”
When Kiryu leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against the scar, Majima’s brain stopped functioning. His thoughts were replaced with static, and his muscles seized almost painfully. A gasp escaped him while his brain was too occupied to hold it back. When he finally regained control of his shocked body, Majima moved away, his eye widened. “Kiryu-chan, are ya comin’ onto me or what?”
Kiryu’s eyes widened and his lips parted in confusion. “Am I coming on you?”
“What?! Are ya comin’ onto m—Are ya flirtin’ with me?!”
“Oh,” Kiryu whispered. “Kind of.”
“Kind of? What d’ya mean with this ‘kind of’ shit?”
“I mean, I’m trying to,” Kiryu responded, his posture slumping. Suddenly, he assumed the role of the awkward party and his gaze again shifted away from Majima. “Sorry.”
Majima frowned and grabbed Kiryu’s cheeks between his hands, moving his face so that he was gazing into Majima’s eye once more. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I just wasn’t sure. You’re pretty out of it, and I don’t need ya doin’ stuff you’ll be embarrassed of.”
“Why would I be embarrassed?” Kiryu asked with his cheeks still mushed between Majima’s palms. Majima released him with a pat to his head and a sigh.
“Because ya just will be.”
“I won’t.”
“Ya most certainly will.”
“Nah.”
“Wanna bet?” Majima asked, eye wide and wild. “If ya don’t mention a thing tomorrow, then I win.”’
“Deal,” Kiryu said, seeming awfully confident in himself. Majima would be lying if he said that he wouldn’t miss this new side of Kiryu, but all good things soon had to come to an end. No matter who Kiryu’s nurse had ended up being, Majima was sure that the flirting would have been inevitable. He just happened to be the lucky winner. Kiryu didn’t mean a thing by it.
Majima shot the man a smile, masking the longing that he felt deep in his core. “Let’s get ya to bed, then,” he said, making sure to send Nishida a quick text informing him of the change in plans. It seemed that Kiryu’s hunger had been a passing desire, another indicator of his confusion.
“Can I ask you something?” Kiryu said, standing shakily on his feet. Majima nodded as he retrieved the questionable bottle of pills Emoto had given him, shaking out one for Kiryu to take before bed. “Can I spoon you?”
Majima sputtered and nearly dropped the bottle. If one thing was certain, it was that the pain meds had made Kiryu much bolder. The night had been a whirlwind of surprises and agitation, not necessarily in a bad way. Majima simply knew that it would not last. Nonetheless, what harm would it do to appease Kiryu? “I guess so,” he finally answered, throwing in his typical untamed grin for good measure. “Gonna keep me warm?”
“I hope so, Kiryu replied. An excited smile stretched across the man’s face as Majima pushed the pill into his hands and led him to his bed. The mood had far surpassed awkward leaving Majima feeling hazy like he was in a dream. He opened a drawer and tossed Kiryu a pair of sweatpants that had always been a bit large on him. Shedding his snakeskin jacket and stripping down to his briefs, Majima threw on a black t-shirt. When he turned, he saw that Kiryu had finished changing and was already propped up in Majima’s bed on his side.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Majima mumbled, waiting for Kiryu to avert his gaze before he slid into bed next to him. Immediately, Kiryu’s arm was around him and his face was nuzzled into Majima’s neck. Majima huffed, unable to understand why he could not simply bask in the moment that he had longed for for so long. He supposed it was because the action was fleeting and uncharacteristic, just an unrealistic taste of what could be.
“Are you comfy?” Kiryu asked.
Majima nodded slowly, and Kiryu responded with a kiss to the back of his neck. Majima chuckled at the feeling. “You’re pretty affectionate like this, ya know that?”
Kiryu hummed in response, pulling Majima even closer. Majima felt his long eyelashes flutter against his skin as Kiryu’s eyes drifted shut. Majima supposed that this was the end of it, then. He sighed and rested his hand over Kiryu’s, lacing their fingers together and letting his own eye fall shut.
Majima awake to the noise of rustling behind him. Gentle sunlight peered in through his blinds, making Majima squint and let out a groan. At that, the rustling suddenly stopped. Majima gazed behind him and saw Kiryu frozen in place, a slight shadow of pain present in his expression. “Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Majima replied. “Ya okay?”
Kiryu gritted his teeth as he sat up. “Yeah.”
“No you’re not. Let me get ya some of those meds— "
“Majima wait,” Kiryu interrupted with a hand on Majima’s shoulder. “I’m not embarrassed.”
“Haw?”
Kiryu took a breath, whether from pain or to work up some courage Majima didn’t know. “You said that I’d be embarrassed about flirting with you when the medication wore off. I’m not.”
A wave of heat washed over Majima’s body. He knew that Kiryu could likely see the splashes of red growing across his face. It was humiliating in the best of ways. “Oh really?”
“Yeah. I win.”
Majima chanced a smirk, feeling his courage returning. Kiryu may have used the element of surprise against him, but Majima still had his wits. “And what exactly is it that you win?”
Kiryu clutched his side but gaze a pained smile nonetheless. “Well, I was hoping that I could maybe take you to Kanrai later. Just the two of us.”
“Oh?” Majima raised an eyebrow. “What is it with you and barbecue?”
“I know it’s your favorite,” Kiryu answered.
That rendered Majima speechless. He growled and plopped back down onto his pillow facedown to let out a muffled yell. “Is that a yes?” Kiryu asked from above him.
Majima thought over the strange sequence of events that had led him to this moment. It was all so sudden, so unexpected, but for the first time Majima wondered how long Kiryu had been sitting on his feelings without acting. Had they both been struggling with their emotions, unwilling to make the first move? Why Kiryu would choose Majima of all people was beyond him, but he wasn’t about to complain. Who knew that all it took to push them together was Kiryu getting stabbed? Majima chuckled to himself at the thought, feeling only a little bit sorry at making light of Kiryu’s pain.
He looked back up at Kiryu and finally answered with a confident, “Yup.”
Kiryu's smile grew at that. “It’s a date, then,” he said before resting his head back down on Majima’s stomach. “Wake me up when it’s time.”
Majima watched him relax once more, allowing his fingers to move to Kiryu’s hair. He stroked the soft locks in time with his breathing, taking comfort in the tenderness of the moment. It wasn’t often that Majima was awarded with pleasantly domestic snapshots in time, and he would revel in it. He would enjoy what warm moments life provided him with, whether fleeting or not. When they were gone, he would try not to dwell. For now, Majima was happy, he was sated, and that was what mattered. “Sure thing, big guy,” he whispered, feeling Kiryu nuzzle closer to him. Majima closed his eyes as he took in a breath, basking in the sunlight and the feeling of Kiryu’s hair between his fingers. “Sleep tight.”