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Jyuto sat down on his couch, sinking into the soft cushions with a sigh. Glasses folded on the console table, it had been a long day, and he was ready to call it over. He sat up and grabbed one of the magazines off his coffee table to pass the time before he went to bed. Nothing complicated or controversial- usually just some men’s fashion magazine. He flipped through the pages casually, judging every unfortunate wrinkle in the clothes, and the brand’s unfortunate choice of models.
Hmm, all of the men showing off jackets were too burly. All of the ones in the cardigans were too feminiene. Jyuto didn’t know why this brand even sold cardigans, what was the point of wearing a jacket without lapels?
All of the men were quite attractive though. Guess that’s what you get in the model industry. He flipped past an advertisement for jeans, something a lot more casual than what he usually looked at. Once he flipped past it, he turned the page back immediately. Something was familiar…
The ad showed a man from the back, waist down and no shirt on. His ass was front and center though and the picture cut off at his lower thighs. And- whew, it was a good one. The jeans he was wearing were tight as shit, about as tight as Samatoki wore his jeans. In fact- Jyuto checked the company, and it was Samatoki’s chosen brand. Ugh, his eyesight wasn’t good enough for this.
He grabbed his glasses off the table and shoved them back up his nose, inspecting the ad with as much attention to detail as he could muster. He came to the conclusion that he had to be right. There was no other option, terrifying as it was. He sent Samatoki a text before heading to bed.
-We need to talk.-
-
Jyuto stormed into Samatoki’s office, magazine tucked under his arm and a scowl clear on his face.
“Woah!” Samatoki exclaimed when he saw Jyuto bust in. “Who put a stick up your ass?”
“My ass isn’t the problem here.” Jyuto explained. He smacked the magazine down on the desk right in front of Samatoki. “Is this your ass?”
Samatoki looked down at the ad, and his eyes wided. In one fluid motion, he scooched back his chair and bolted from the office.
“Samatoki!” Jyuto sprinted after him- through the Yakuza base, yelling at him the whole way. They must have looked absolutely bizarre, but he didn’t care. He would find out for sure if Samatoki had this fun little side hustle or not.
He ended up cornering Samatoki at the end of a hallway and tackling him. With Samatoki kicking and screaming like a damn child the whole time, Jyuto had a hard time restraining him. He ended up just tackling him and sitting on his back.
“Get you bony-ass ass off me!” Samatoki growled from under him.
“You have to answer my question- and my ass isn't bony.”
“Is too!” He huffed.
“Samatoki-“ Jyuto waved the ad in Samatoki’s face again, “Tell me what the deal is.” making him growl.
“Fuck off!!”
“Answer me!” Jyuto jammed his knee into Samatoki’s spine.
Samatoki groaned in pain. “Fine! Fine! Just get the hell off me!”
“Hmph.” Jyuto stood up, standing ready to catch him again.
Samatoki sighed, aggressively running a hand through his hair. “It’s just- a side gig, alright? It’s easy, I don’t show my face, and it’s less illegal than…” he waved his hands around, signaling to the base all around them. “this”
“I suppose that makes sense…” Jyuto pondered, “but still! You’re presenting your ass to the whole public!”
“You don’t choose what I do with my ass!” He yelled, “I’ll do whatever I want with my own-ass ass!”
“Samatoki-“ Jyuto started, as if to scold him about potty language or something. Truely, he had no idea how to respond to that. Frankly wasn’t sure why they were having a conversation about Samatoki’s ass’ rights.
Samatoki crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Jyuto with a raised eyebrow. Like a spoiled kid looking for a reason he can’t do something.
Jyuto adjusted his glasses. “Okay, fine. Do what you want with your own ass. Just. Tell me when you’re in something? It’s disturbing to think about how many times I might have seen your ass and not realized it.”
“What, you jerk off the fashion magazines?” Samatoki laughed.
“Wha- OF COURSE NOT!” Jyuto yelled, mortified. “I would not stoop so low,”
“Oooooh, that’s right. You just get me.”
“Fuck you!” Jyuto spat. “I take pity on you because you’re never getting a date with the way you act and dress.”
“Oh for sure. I’m sure you tell every guy that. How many have you seen in the past month?” Samatoki leaned down until he was eye to eye with Jyuto, snickering.
“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” Jyuto regained his footing in the argument. “You can’t get enough bitches to kill a bug for you!” He smirked.
“Oh come on!! Samatoki groaned. “You said we’d never talk about that again!”
“Not unless I can use it against you.” Jyuto grinned.
“I fucking hate you!” Samatoki groaned loudly. “You’re such a bitch! You-“
A yakuza walked into the hall they were having their smackdown in, yelling, “if you two don’t shut up or take it outside, I will cut your dicks off!”
Apparently that was a superior, because Samatoki shut up quick. Jyuto shut up too but smirked. He was a cop. He could get this place stormed whenever he felt like it. He would be fine, so he just took pleasure in watching Samatoki be obedient.
-
Jyuto sat in bed, lighting a cigarette. He looked to the side of the room, out the window, and the dark city lights in the distance.
“It’s better in person.”
“What?” Samatoki stood at the end of the bed, putting his shirt back on. “The hell are you talking about?”
“Your ass.”
Samatoki rolled his eyes. “Really? You’re still caught up on that?”
Of course he was. He would probably never get over the fact. After he found out, he looked through all the magazines he had, and realized Samatoki’s ass was in every. Single. One. That kind of information was traumatizing.
…At least they still had their dicks.