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Nakajima Atsushi was moldable and vulnerable. Mori loved it. He was easy to be trusted too, and that was incredible for the Port Mafia, it was an asset they didn’t have. Everyone looked rough, even Akutagawa who loathed the new candy. Everyone looked consumed in the darkness, but Atsushi-kun was bright, his mismatched coloured eyes were lovely and indeed captivating. His white and soft hair, the little ears that sometimes appeared when he couldn’t control his powers were tempting.
“Atsushi-kun, you will go with Akutagawa. It’s barely considered a mission. You will talk, Akutagawa will attack if something happens.” Mori drew out and Atsushi was consistent in his undivided attention. It could make an old man flatter himself, but the boy was young.
Akutagawa didn’t say anything, but his eyes, dead like a shark, glanced at Atsushi for a few seconds. Mori took the tiger-boy after Dazai. He wasn’t as persuasive and charming as the other, but he had a kind of sweetness and a great source of strength that made him have all his interest in him. It was enough.
“Thanks, Mori-san.” He had a chipper in his tone that was particular too. At his side, Akutagawa was nervous, but his stoic expression was put in place as always. Atsushi hardly knew about the hardships in the mafia. Some of them were well-concealed and had higher positions like executive Chuuya.
However, the teenager knew about hardships. Mori had read the orphanage files. Chuuya, another wrecked man, had stolen them. He had read about his deprivations and security around him. His new recruit was a ripe fruit.
“I don’t want to work with you either.” Atsushi said and ate the ramen without glimpsing at the older teenager. Chuuya made an obligation for the two of them to have lunch together since he joined the troupe and they both hated it.
“I just think it’s funny that he sent you to talk with someone. You can barely articulate properly.” Akutagawa shrugged his shoulders and Rashomon was flicking through his jacket, changing its colours. A red one was sporting now and Atsushi was amazed at that, but he couldn’t say it again. He did it the first time, and the final result was receiving a beating.
“Maybe you are right, but you aren’t better than me. We never finished school.” He rolled his eyes and caught a mark over his wrist that slipped from his pastel-blue sweater. He had a formal suit, but Mori preferred to give him new clothes. He should be calm around Akutagawa, because he could never be sure what the other reaction would be, even if they worked well together.
“It’s easier if you are the favourite.” He was always saying that, and Atsushi was tired of it. He wouldn’t win that stupid fight, it didn’t matter how many times they argued about it. “Have you noticed that you never used your weretiger form? You only talk in pretty clothes.” Akutagawa pressed with disdain, like he was superior to being called “the dog of the Port Mafia.” In reality, no one was faring better.
“Maybe the boss knows that I am not prepared yet.” Atsushi grumbled with his mouth full of ramen and Akutagawa tsked in disgust. He felt self-conscious. He wasn’t pretty, and he was just doing his job. The other one didn’t comment further, but raised his eyebrows. That was the weretiger naivety, being so gullible about everything.
Later that afternoon, they were reunited in the salon when Atsushi spoke again, “Thanks you, boss! It’s not necessary.” He said shyly to Mori. They were in his office and he was given a new suit for the day. It was a beautiful shaped dress; he didn’t know why he had to use that in a mission. He never did it. It was unknown territory.
Mori saw the flushed face before the teenager covered it with his hands. He shouldn’t blush like that over simple clothes and he shouldn’t feel a certain heart beating over that simple action and response. Always cold-blooded and proficient. His soldiers were like that too.
The prize over Atsushi’s head in the black market was money he couldn’t lose. But he was conflicted between betraying the teenager or just using him for the organisation. He had to polish him, Atsushi was still rough around the edges for the position he was specifically going to have. Chuuya called him crazy when he announced his plans to them and Kyoko smirked. “It seems you have a special interest in him, boss.” She had commented and Mori knew how to read every single gesture, knew what she was trying to convey.
“—please don’t tell me he likes him, I am going to kill myself.” He heard the man say over the corridors and Kyoko bubbling laugh after.
The mission was at night and both of them were prepared for it. Atsushi gulped when he tried the dress on himself. Fortunately, it covered the scars splattered all over his back and he had only visible white lines on his thighs and wrists. The colour suited him well. It was black and shaped his body. However, he didn’t look like a woman, he just looked like a clown.
He was irritated and sobbing over that until Akutagawa knocked on his door. “I don’t have time for your sorrow.”
Kyoko arrived at that moment, always dressed elegantly and with the gift of eloquent speech. “I will help you, Atsushi-kun.” She had a pouch of makeup with colours that would suit the teenager.
At least, her soothing voice helped with his nerves all over the place and his crying face. It was torturous. Maybe Akutagawa was right, maybe he should show his transformation more, maybe he should work on it more.
She passed a wet cloth over his face and her breath touched his cheeks a little. “I will use vibrant colours, just a bit. You don’t need a lot of makeup, because you have a striking face, my dear.” Atsushi nodded and closed his eyes. Akutagawa was watching them with his usual coat and the thump of his heart on his chest. It felt like seeing an intimate action and it was awkward.
The mission was short and burdensome. Atsushi had to seal a business contract in a hotel and Akutagawa was just there like some type of bodyguard. If it was just him, the meeting would be short and bloody. But his partner had to enchant the other with words and it seemed that the pig had an abrasive obsession over boys being clumsy. Atsushi was perfect for that.
The glass of champagne slipped three times over his dress and the man leaned in, commenting over the floral scent he was using and planted a hand over his thigh. It was revolting and Akutagawa hated it. He wasn’t his owner. At the end, the contract was sealed and the predator asked if he could have his partner for the night.
Fortunately, that was the bloody part. His position. He left a reminder in the form of thick red liquid splattered over the luxurious carpet.
Atsushi was trembling and Tokyo was furious with the heavy storm. Akutagawa used Rashomon which was still reeling of blood to make a some sort of umbrella for both of them. Their driver was waiting outside the hotel. “I think I will tell him that I want to work with my ability.” He heard the boy mutter through clenching teeth.
Mori was waiting for them in his usual attire and he had a drawing in his hands, playing idly with it. He took the contract with the specs of blood on it and wiped it with a shake of his hands. He had the sign. It didn’t matter if the man was dead or not. “What happened, Akutagawa?” Always using their last names, minus with Atsushi.
“We did our job, but the connection tried to have sexual intercourse with Nakajima.” He winced after hearing himself saying that. It was weird, especially when those red eyes fixated on him and then on Atsushi. He thought he saw a flicker of lust there, but he could be wrong.
Mori hummed, disinterested in his information and made a gesture for Atsushi to walk to him. “Do you have something to say, Atsushi?” The quick-succession of names made him flinch. His tone was smooth, low, and dominant. (Atsushi loved it secretly.)
“Yes. I don’t want to keep working as that, I want to do it with my ability.” The same words resonated in Akutagawa’s ears and he felt frightened by his bold reaction.
“I will meditate about it.” Mori curtly replied and gestured for Akutagawa to leave them alone.
He did it quickly, but he clenched his fists. It didn’t matter if he didn’t like Atsushi, everyone should know how to defend themselves, but there was a part of him that didn’t want to find his partner dead or tortured because of his stupidity.
“Elise-chan drew this.” He said then, when there were only the two of them. He was pensive, but his face didn’t show any reaction.
Atsushi took the drawing gently and was awed at the colours, the figures of his boss, Elise in the middle and him on the other side, like they were a family. It looked nice. “This is really cute!” He said out loud and then covered his lips.
Mori was smiling. He had never seen his boss smile, that was why he walked down to where the man was sitting down and he placed himself on his knees. He sensed when the other one tensed up and his body was sending mixed signals. It was provocative, it was bold. He could be murdered because of that kind of action. But he had to. He needed to.
The older one grabbed his waist with one of his hands and Atsushi felt a certain giddiness, plus the shivers running down his spine. “Are you aware of the consequences?” His voice rumbled and Atsushi nodded. His bangs fell slowly, framing his face alluringly.
The first kiss was trepid, almost shy, like they were trying to know each other intimately. Atsushi thought that it was romantic. Mori made him straddle his lap and his hands started wandering through his back, paying special attention to the thin white marks that protruded from his spine. While he put his hands over his neck and the friction their bodies were creating was absolutely frantic and sloppy. It felt incredible.
Sadly, it was a short but sweet moment that ended up rapidly. Atsushi was gasping for air, and Mori thought that he had never seen a more delectable sight. His boy in a dress he particularly chose. He may have to meditate about letting him use his abilities.
Atsushi had his shoes in one of his hands when he bowed down to his boss and closed the door to the office. It didn’t mean that their relationship was going to change. Or at least that was what he thought, but he didn’t know he left a Mori in his usual seat with Elise at his side, smirking. “Sometimes you don’t know how to hide your feelings.” His treasure said and he snickered. He was a fool. He always had the bad habit of falling for little pretty things.
Akutagawa saw Atsushi tip-toeing to his room with his lipgloss staining his chin now. He had seen it coming. When he was a child, he saw Dazai–san doing practically the same, but he didn’t understand at that moment the intricate details behind that. He just wanted to know how it was going to end. He let Rashomon eat the scribbled notes from Atsushi to the Agency.
It was Mori’s problem if anyone who caught his attention was a traitor.