Work Text:
His ears drowned out any speech in a deep ocean with the ticking of the grandfather clock. The pendulum swung back and forth, the anchor catching and releasing one tooth of the gear at a time. Each unit of time mimicked a ripple on the surface of that ocean, in which the pebble dropped and fell until another followed. Rows after rows of men emptied out like a slow black tide, but in a desperate need for oxygen, Kiryu was the first out the gate.
The silver metal of his watch was cold against his skin as he adjusted it around his wrist. The clock read 7 pm, but the night had already fallen over a few hours ago. 7 pm felt like 10 pm, and 10 pm felt like 2 am. No matter what the time was, Kiryu couldn’t close his eyes and keep them shut. It was either feeling sweaty or too cold. Sometimes even both.
He didnt know the man well enough to miss him, but he knew the smell of incense well enough to hate it.
Kiryu was claustrophobic in his tight black suit. It constricted his movements around his shoulders, and the lining of his collar chafed his neck. His feet were sore with blisters in his one size too small leather shoes. However, he couldn’t afford to untie any buttons in this frigid cold. The moment he walked out of the funeral house, his hand was already gripping the pack in his back pocket. The grimy texture of the worn out cigarette pack was rough on his palm, and it still reeked of the cigarettes and fabric of his pocket.
He felt his own throat closing and squeezing, and the roof of his mouth bone dry. With effort, he swallowed his sticky saliva and sighed. Holding the lighter to the tip of the cigarette, he blocked the wind with his other hand. The ember temporarily warmed his palm with a faint lingering heat, and the color of the flame reflected lightly on the edge of his hand. He needed to wash down the first puff of cigarettes with something.
#
He found himself on the outskirts of the hotel district. The air was still humid and smelled earthy with rain. The neon lights of nearby sex shops and cabarets reflected on the wet concrete floors. He tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped. Amid the cold, he could still see the vapor of his breath show up.
The glass doors slid open for him and released a steam of artificial heat. He had enough money for either a good scotch or a couple of cold malts. Throughout the years, he had gotten accustomed to the taste of cheap beer so it was hardly an inconvenience. He saw it as a blessing born of unfortunate circumstances.
In the alcohol aisle, he awkwardly clutched the cans of beer while balancing some against his chest. Dropping them on the counter, he was even more embarrassed to go back and grab more. The sound of metal clanking—that sharp metallic noise echoing in the quiet store. Kiryu carefully counted the crinkled cash at the register. In the store, it was either teenage boys occupied with shonen jump or middle aged men struggling to run errands for their wives. After all, everyone on this district was coddled up in a hotel somewhere indulging in who knows what.
He was surprised to hear the door open with confident steps coming in. They were familiar in the sense that they changed the frequency of every room they entered.
Through his peripheral vision, he immediately recognized him. Hell, he recognized him solely through his steps on the linoleum floor. Kiryu kept his vision stuck to the counter, and he held his breath to avoid drawing attention. Majima carried with him the smell of too strong cologne mixed with funeral incense. Eventhough their encounter was somehow expected, Kiryu furrowed his brows and pouted a little. Feigning nonchalance, he handed over the money to the cashier paying no heed to the approaching Majima.
Majima rested a strong hand on Kiryu’s stiffening shoulder with a squeeze hard enough to hurt.
“Hey Kiryu-chan!” He said with a shit eating grin. As he scooted himself closer, his eye went from the beer then back to Kiryu. His eyes widened with confusion. The copious ammount in front of him was equivalent to poison, and he knew Kiryu's fridge couldn't hold all that.
“Don’t ya think its a bit too much? He asked facetiously “Even for a big guy like you?”
On bad rainy mornings, Majima often found hoards of bottles and broken glass scattered across the floor. He probably drank even more when he was with friends. But seriously? Over this dead asshole?
Kiryu looked at him, finally getting a proper glimpse at his face. The pits under his eyes were graved deeper and darker since the last time he saw him. He caught his figure maybe a couple of times during the funeral, but couldn’t bring himself to look closer. His suit outlined his broad shoulders which tapered down to a narrow waist Kiryu had already punched many times before. His suit was uncharacteristically very well tailored—the sight of Majima in a suit was jarring in itself. For once, he donned on a new outfit, which was an addicting sight by the sheer oddity of it all. As soon as he opened his mouth though, any bravado was well dissolved.
The sound of metal being put into a rustling plastic bag still echoed in the background.
With another pat on his back, Kiryu snapped out of his train of thought, and he noticed the deadpan cashier holding the bag for him to take.
“What ya getting all this for anyways?" He asked as Kiryu grabbed the bag "I’ve got stronger stuff in my pockets if ya know what i mean”
His suggestion was met with a frown, and his smirk immediately retracted. “Not right now.” Kiryu said tersely, the first time hearing his own voice in two days. The words tasted like ash on his tongue. He didn't look back, but his pace towards the door was leaden.
Majima crossed his arms. Kiryu had never accepted his invitations before and he knew for sure he wouldn't now. He drew his lips into a thin line watching Kiryu leave the store. The bag in Kiryu's hand wouldve been too heavy for anyone else, yet he carried it with minimal effort. Majima stood frozen near the register tapping his foot on the ground, feeling more irked than anything. A heavy sense of foreboding settled in his stomach at the cold rejection.
"Excuse me sir" he heard with a nudge on his shoulder from a middle aged man. Majima remembered he was blocking the way, so he left glaring at the man and muttered under his breath jackass.
He took out the few yen buried deep in his pockets and counted whatever money he had. It was enough for a pack of cigarettes and a coffee jelly. The funeral food was too bland for his liking anyway.
"No bag" he said.
When he stepped out, a rush of cold prickled his skin and washed over his spine. The concrete was still wet and the wind was even stronger. It blew his hair over his face and temporarily hindered his vision. As he tried to adjust it with one hand, he chafed the back of his exposed neck to stifle the cold. Squinting, he looked in front of him to see the figure of a man resting his back against a pole. It was Kiryu gesturing for him with his head. He raised the bag and said something along the lines of "I can't drink this by myself"
Kiryu was inviting him for beer? The hell? Why was this asshole acting so aloof then? Staring at the singular bitter coffee jelly in his hand then back at the bag Kiryu was willing to share, he realized how much of an asshole he looked. Walking over to Kiryu, he quickly shoved the jelly towards his chest with his smile turned lopsided.
"For Haruka"
#
Even from the outside, Majima could tell the apartment complex was cheap. The walls were peeling at the corners and tinted a sickly yellow with age. Kiryu fetched the old keys to his apartments which left a lingering coppery scent on his palms.
He flipped the switch and stepped inside. Behind him, Majima kicked his shoes off with a careless thud, leaving them where they fell. Kiryu quickly followed suit. His feet were still aching and sore even as he walked bare-foot.
The apartment was as barren as ever. In the corner of the room stood an out-dated TV with a dvd player tucked beneath it. Seriously, is this what 10 years in the joint does to a guy? To its left were stacks of CD's which Majima didn't need to check to know they were for Haruka. Save for the cheap idol stickers decorating one of the doors, the place was devoid of life. Not even a plastic plant or a rug.
Kiryu caught Majima's assessing stare.
"It's only temporary" he didnt look up as he set his blazer aside.
"How long is temporary? Last I've seen it was a month ago and it looks the same to me"
His eyes narrowed. He didn't answer but his jaw tightened. Majima was being as inconsiderate as ever, but he wasn't wrong. He just needed to save more to get Haruka out of this shithole. Majima sauntered over to the CDs and crouched down, a sneer tugging at his lips.
"Ya actually enjoy watchin' these?" He scoffed.
Kiryu ignored his bait and replied "No but Haruka does. She sometimes makes me watch them with her"
Majima paused and turned to look at him with amusement. The corners of his mouth twitched, and a smile spread slowly across his face threatening to break. He tried to mask the laughter behind a cough before it broke out. He could only imagine Kiryu watching princess movies or whatever Haruka was into. The younger man felt his face burn and opened his mouth to say something but immediately changed his mind.
He stood up. The apartment was empty as is and he didn't see a heater anywhere, but he decided to ask anyway. "Got uh somethin' for the cold? Im freezing."
To which Kiryu nodded and reached for a heater under the chair. His heavy footsteps echoed on the floor.
"I'm surprised ya even got one" Majima said while the younger man plugged it in.
"Haruka gets really cold sometimes"
He ambled back to where Majima sat on the couch and settled next to him. He was more than grateful he paid the electricity bill on time, otherwise it would have been awkward. Haruka served as an anchor in his life, saving him from his loneliness. He had someone to greet as he came back home and remind him to take care of himself. Kiryu saw no point in paying for electricity or buying a heater unless it worked for two.
He was almost ready to face his loneliness again as long as it meant Haruka wouldn't have to see him drinking.
"Ah shit finally. This thing was suffocating" Majima sighed in relief, taking his suit jacket off. Kiryu fidgeted with his collar, suddenly feeling sweat upon his nape. The hardly furnished room felt too cramped. He furrowed his brows and rested his elbows on his knees.
"The girl is sleeping at her friend's" Kiryu remarked.
"Yeah I figured" he said reaching for the bag. Eventhough the girl was out, Haruka was all they'd talked about so far. His last encounter with her was quite unfortunate, and the bitter jelly probably wouldn't help. For the night then, they'd be alone. Majima paused midway when a sudden thought crossed his mind. He dramatically turned his head, raising his brows "Ya didn't plan this on purpose did ya, Kiryu-chan?"
Kiryu stared blankly at him with an uncomprehending stare until it clicked. Shit. It really did sound like that. He quickly shook his head in panic. "I planned to drink but I didn't expect you'd come." He paused, looking away "I wasn't hinting."
Majima shrugged "Sure sure. I know I looked smokin' hot in that suit" He handed the younger man a beer.
What an asshole.
The crack of the tab was followed by a hiss of foam.
The scent was bitter with a nub of sweetness, a smell familiar to Kiryu and unpleasant to most. Majima took a big gulp and immediately slammed the can on the table with a loud thud, forcefully swallowing it down. He wiped his mouth with the edge of his sleeve. "Fuck, it tastes like damn piss water" he said coughing.
Kiryu glared at him "Learn to sip before gulping it down"
"Don't be teaching me about etiquette Kiryu chan. Be grateful I didn't spit it all over yer couch"
Kiryu took a sip and sighed. He then flicked his lighter, putting a cigarette to his mouth.
"Ya mind sharin'?" Asked Majima.
"Sure" he nodded tossing the pack "Don't you have any?"
"Yeah but theyre in my jacket on the floor. I dont feel like picking it up" He took a long drag "That damn convenience store didn't have my usual brand."
"I don't like switching brands either. Nishiki and I used steal whatever Kazama-san smoked, and I guess I stuck with that."
"Figured. Its only old men who smoke this stuff. It's not too bad though."
Majima took another sip and winced at the taste. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this"
"You always seem to drink it just fine." Kiryu frowned.
"Still don't like it but I'll hafta make do."
Kiryu looked back to the malt in his hand. A pang of guilt bit his conscience like he'd been doing something wrong the whole time. This wasn't the first time they'd drank beer together so Kiryu should've known better than dragging Majima into his own mess. Forcing him to drink down that piss water almost felt like neglect. Neglecting his interests and just accepting him whenever he comes around without asking questions. He felt like a burden. Kiryu took a huge gulp and exhaled.
'Shit now we're getting started" Majima smirked.
He eyed the jacket on the floor. Inside he stashed ziploc bags of substances enough for two, but he ignored it momentarily.
They finished the first drink.
Then the second.
Majima was already rambling about getting involved with a cult in his twenties. Kiryu obviously knew it was bullshit.
Third.
Fourth.
The more he drank the more his focus shifted from the taste to getting drunk. With each drink, the taste of piss stifled into something quite incomprehensible. What he knew though was that he sort of needed more. More to drink and swallow down.
"The first time I got drunk I err... it wasn't pretty." Majima slurred. "I was with a buncha friends and..."
"You started hollering around?" He interrupted.
"Naww I wish that was it. We lost everyone somehow and I was black-out drunk with a friend. Anyway, the fucker decides to piss in a fucking parking lot without warning."
Majima paused, scratching his head. Kiryu gestured for him to keep going.
"Fuck I'm trynna remember. Anyway uhh a cop spots him and says he's gonna cut us a break. The cop tells me its my responsibility to get him home, so we walk to my house which isn't that far. He takes a piss in my neighbors' fucking front yard seconds away from the damn toilet. I hear "this motherfucker again!" from the same damn cop. The next day he goes blamin' me for pissing on him"
"You sure it wasn't you? Maybe your memory is all wrong"
"The damn cop approached me on my way to school! Told me to take care of my friend better" he said, his head tipped upwards.
"Nishiki somehow thought it was a good idea to steal alcohol from Kazama-san and invite Yumi and his sister to drink. Yumi was scared as hell, and we had no idea how much was appropriate to drink. He took a sip and spat it out directly on her while coughing and cussing. She would've smacked him with the bottle on his head if I didn't step in. We were completely wasted and laughing our asses off. Not even sure what was so funny."
"That it?"
"Nah, Nishiki and I woke up to a beating from Kazama which sent us flying across the room. The girls just watched and laughed, and all they got was a scolding. He even offered Yumi a new shirt."
"The old bastard got favorites then"
"It was our idea. I guess we dragged them into it."
Beads of sweat gathered around Kiryu's forehead. His tie was loose and his shirt was already half unbuttoned, yet he kept a wan smile staring blankly at the unplugged Tv. He put a can to his nape and then to his forehead. "Mind if I turn the heater off?"
"Go ahead"
Majima was taking half the damn space on the couch with his legs spread open. He couldn't see to his right through the eyepatch, but as Kiryu stood up, he caught a sincere smile tugging at his lips. He took the opportunity to pick up his jacket from the floor, but he hesitated and kept it resting on his thighs. When Kiryu returned, the smile still didn't disperse. He almost reached to touch it, but he backtracked and squeezed his shoulder instead. Pulling him closer, he said with a smile in his voice "They must be fond memories, huh?"
Kiryu chuckled in response, immediately chugging down a malt.
It was the fifth.
Then the sixth.
Majima's retrieved his pack of cigarettes and threw his jacket behind the couch. "Smile burgers doesnt sell fucking pizza its in the damn fucking name! Fucking Smile burgers!"
"So...? You don't think they can do both? Whats wrong with that?" he said.
"Just call up a dang pizza place if ya want some so bad. Fuck I really need to take a leak."
"I ordered pizza from there once though"
"Where's the damn toilet!"
Kiryu lazily pointed somewhere. "There. Near Haruka's bedroom."
"Ya got toilet paper?"
"Just go."
With effort, Majima boosted himself up and stumbled on his way. He heard his joints popping in the silence of the barren room, and he felt a tightness in his chest which he couldn't really decipher. As he disappeared around the corner, Kiryu was left alone to deal with the humming of the refrigerator. As a lone fly circled his head, he became painfully aware of the sound of his throat as he swallowed. He watched the way the cheap plastic bag rustled even when the wind didn't touch it. Another drink can't possibly do any harm.
Majima returned to see Kiryu flushed, staring into the distance furrowing his brows. The piles of beer grew bigger next to him, meaning he was drinking alone. That bastard; he looked so restless and hazey. He approached him deliberately, and plopped himself back down on the couch.
"You uh decided what you wanna eat?"
"No."
Majima checked his watch, but he couldn't focus enough to read it. Through the window, he could see it was pitch black outside.
"What's got ya so worked up?"
No reply. Taking another sip, the beer spilled from his mouth directly onto his dress shirt. Kiryu did nothing but sadly stare as the wet cloth stuck to his chest. It revealed the outline of his collarbones and chest through the transluscent patches.
"Shit take this off. I'll fetch ya somethin' from yer closet" Majima suggested, but Kiryu gently pushed him off with his hand and turned his head to the right.
"Come on whats wrong with ya? Ya dont want me to get you a t-shirt or anythin'?"
Kiryu shook his head and tersely told him to stay, unbuttoning each button one by one until his stomach was bare. Majima assisted him in taking the shirt off his shoulders, and he tossed it backwards where his own jacket sat. Kiryu squinted at him, scrutinizing his entire demeanor like he was searching for clues. A lump formed in his throat under the judging gaze.
"You.. Weren't doing drugs were you?" Kiryu said in a monotone voice.
"Haw? The fuck?" His eyes widened "No I wasn't, but gotta admit I did want to. I offered ya some remember? Fuck, is that what ya were worried about?"
"No."
"Then what was it?"
No reply.
Majima groaned and tipped his head backwards, spreading his arms around the edges of the couch. "They're in my jacket. Back there. See?" He pointed behind him, and Kiryu didn't look. "I got enough chemicals to make us forget our names. Thought about hiccup waiting until you were too wasted to give a shit... slip it out of my pockets and leave ya to it."
"Then go on. I don't mind."
"You look pathetic enough as is." He admitted, taking a drag out of his cigarette. "I know you don't want me to Kiryu-chan. My plans for the night were to take some pretty mean drugs, but when I saw ya waiting outside for me... I mean... You looked so... I dunno... And it ruined my whole damn night. Can't even get high in peace without you mopin' around. My feet just dragged me along."
Kiryu's heart hammered against his ribs following the rythym of Majima tapping his foot on the ground. "You're so drunk right now I could just fucking fetch them from the jacket right now and you won't even do anything. You'd sit... You'd sit and watch while you stay miserable on your own, and I don't want that."
The tide's churning eased into a sheet of silver glass as Kiryu realized the depth of his words. He faced Majima head on, locking eyes with him. He bit his lip and held his breath before letting out a shaky exhale. "Its the funeral." Kiryu slurred, but it was only a half truth.
"I know its not Kiryu-chan. Come on... tell me."
His eyes stung.
"I'd take drinkin' nasty beer with you over bein' wasted and waking up somewhere on dirty freezing floor." Majima continued rambling without a destination to reach, but he just wanted to get something across. He didn't even know what it was. "Just so ya know, I don't give a shit about the dead guy either."
The refrigerator cut off with a sudden final click. Kiryu's ears rang to make for the silence. He needed to say something. "Seeing all those ugly black suits and smelling the incense. I just... I kept seeing them. Nishiki, Kazama-san, and Yumi. I couldn't keep up. I couldn't even grieve them properly." He put a hand to his temple. "If it weren't for Haruka I... ah shit" his voice cracked. He didn't even finish his sentence, but Majima rubbed his shoulder knowingly. Kiryu usually only shared things about himself in bits and pieces. He couldn't remember the last time he heard Kiryu speak more than two sentences at once. He gave him a drag of his own cigarette.
"It all ended in blood." His grip on his empty can tightened so hard until the metal groaned, mimicking bones breaking. He felt his throat closing up. "What if it isn't actually over? I can't handle losing anyone else." He stammered "Please don't go anywhere."
Majima was scared shitless. One wrong move he could fuck everything up. He squeezed Kiryu's shoulder again, reeling him closer once more. His hand traveled to his nape and to the back of his head. He gentley dug his fingers into his hair and combed through it just like he did for Makoto.
"Do ya even know what I've been through Kiryu-chan? Ive survived all this fucking shit mostly on my own. Believe me when I say I'm not going anywhere."
It was a half-assed lie and they both knew it damn well. In their world, staying forever was only a luxury for the dead. Kiryu didn't look reassured at all. He just felt wounded by whatever bravado Majima was putting up. The pounding of his heart still hasn't eased, and opening another tab wasn't going to stifle it. A cold chilling wind seeped through a gap in the window.
"Fuck Kiryu, don't be getting all soft on me." He grumbled, watching the younger man's trembling hands. He clasped them in his own in an attempt to ease the shaking. "Here, look at me please."
Kiryu's eyes were red. Majima was used to the unbreakable fortress Kiryu, not shirtless Kiryu on the verge of tears. He didnt know what to do with whatever was in front of him, but he so badly wanted to help.
"Im still here, alright? You can feel my hands, and theyre not going anywhere until you choose to let go."
Why was he even still talking.
"Majima no-nii san" he whispered weakly.
He felt Kiryu losing strength in his body at his touch. With their hands interlocked, Majima anchored him upright. Kiryu still hadn’t let go. Instead, he read the callouses on his hands like they were written in braille. Majima needed to fill the gaps with something.
His lips tasted like metal and blood. Ah fuck. He'd been biting the insides of his mouth.
"M-majima?"
He moved his hands from the back of Kiryu's head to his jaw. He gripped it the same way he'd hold someone he was about to headbutt. His thumb swiped across Kiryu's lower lip, catching a stray drop of beer. Hesitantly, he leaned in until their foreheads touched and he felt Kiryu's ragged breaths on his nose. His chest rose up and down in an inconsistent rythym.
He recklessly closed the gap he'd been aching to fill. It tasted like shit, but he'd wanted his mouth on his for as long as he could remember. Now that it was happening, he didn't want to ruin it and make it a horrible memory. He pulled away, a line of saliva still connecting their lips. As he expected, Kiryu turned his head.
Majima had a reputation. A pretty horrible one at that, especially when he was drunk. He was handsy and vulgar with anyone who even resembled a human being.
"Don't do this." Whispered Kiryu.
Majima couldn't count the men and women he'd kissed while drunk. He couldn't even remember if he'd hit on Nishida before. However, he didn't want to leave Kiryu by himself. At the reopening gap, his hands were aching for something to touch, but his cigarette was long forgotten on the ground.
"I'm not leaving you." He stated firmly, letting him know it was not negotiable. He didn't need his feelings to be reciprocated as long as it meant Kiryu wasn't going anywhere. Reluctantly, he leaned into Kiryu's space, their knees only inches apart. Kiryu stayed frozen, not pushing him away but not leaning in either.
Majima looked at his watch again. It was 11pm. They eventually smoked their packs of cigarettes without a word, dropping the ash somewhere on the ground and switching between their two brands. They were down to the last cigarette left, which Majima claimed for himself. After a futile attempt of avoiding eyecontact, Kiryu couldn’t resist hungrily watching it enter his mouth. Majima caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. "Ya want some?"
He didn't wait for an answer to put it to Kiryu's mouth, and as expected, he reluctantly accepted. They took turns taking drags, watching the smoke rise until it was reduced to ash. Majima crumpled the cigarette butt and stomped on it, only looking down at his feet.
With every inhale, Kiryu tasted the lingering flavor of blood back in his mouth and ached for it more. He clenched his fist into a ball until his knuckles turned white. "You're not fucking with me are you?" Kiryu said sternly, demanding an answer. Sweat dripped down tracing the tattoo on his back, and stray hair strands stuck to his forehead.
"I don't blame you for thinking anything." Majima answered with resignation "Think all you want. I can't change your damn mind. You're as stubborn as a brick wall"
No response. Again.
Majima's hands twitched and were ready to let go until Kiryu tilted his head to his side, resting it on his shoulder. He crossed his arms and sighed.
"Why'd you invite me here?" Majima blurted.
Kiryu bit his lip. "I needed you with me."
He had a hard time believing Majima was here of his own will, but he showed the opposite and stayed sharing the same nasty beer. He knew Majima expected nothing. However, Kiryu had more than that to give.
"If you ever find yourself wasted somewhere call me." He whispered "Don't stay alone. You dont have... you don't need to."
He sluggishly dippeded his head onto Majima's lap, too exhausted to move. He grabbed his chin, and on his own accord, pressed their lips together. Majima gathered his bloody saliva and spat it somewhere on the ground. He rummaged through his hair, keeping him in place.
"Are you sure? I don't want ya doing shit you'll regret and hatin' me for it"
He grabbed Majima's hand and put it against his bare chest, forgetting which side his heart was. "Just stay." He slurred.
Majima only stayed alive for what made his vision blur and his pulse jump. Booze, pills, or putting a knife to some subordinate's throat. He needed anything to remind him his heart hadn't stopped beating years ago.
At this moment, the only thing louder than the silence in the room was the hammering in his own chest, and he leaned in, desperate to lose that sound against Kiryu' mouth.