Chapter Text
Slow down, we've got time left to be lazy
All the kids are bloom from babies into flowers in our eyes
We've got fifty good years left to spend out in the garden
I don't care to beg your pardon, we should live until we die
( -The Gambler | fun.)
--
He meets Munakata again in a bar.
It is oddly fitting; in the dim light Mikoto would have thought he was just someone else with a passing resemblance. He is sitting upright on the bar stool, looking unruffled by the loud noises. Up on the stage, someone is crooning a song about unrequited love.
Mikoto slides in the seat beside him and orders his usual drink. Munakata glances at him, his lips parting in surprise when he realizes whom it is.
"Suoh Mikoto," he intones coolly, when the bartender leaves. Mikoto swivels his stool to face him.
Munakata looks the same. He's not dressed in the stuffy SCEPTER4 uniform but he makes his outfit look just as stuffy anyway, with the amount of clothes he has on. His expression isn't discernible in the light, but Mikoto can guess what face he’s making.
"Munakata," he greets back.
"Fancy meeting you here," Munakata murmurs, and the lilt in his voice tells Mikoto that Munakata has drunk enough to let his guard down. He's not a big fan of tipsy Munakata, but perhaps this one would at least talk to him instead of just leaving. After all, the last time they saw each other, Mikoto had forced him to stab him in the chest. He's not sure how well Munakata's going to react to seeing him again.
Mikoto's drink arrives. Before he can take it, though, Munakata grabs the glass from the bartender's hand and flings the whiskey at Mikoto's face.
"That," he says, as Mikoto gapes at him like a fish, "is for last time." Then he unsteadily gets up to his feet and walks out of the bar.
Mikoto wipes his face with his hand, grinning, ignoring the cold liquid slowly spreading down his shirt. Then he stands up to chase Munakata, uncaring that half of the bar is staring at him.
Munakata is halfway down the street when Mikoto finally catches up with him. He touches him gently in the shoulder, and Munakata turns sharply, his elbow aiming for Mikoto's face. Mikoto dodges it and grabs him by the wrists. "I take it you're angry," he says, smirking.
Munakata looks furious. "Let me go, Suoh."
"No," Mikoto says. Munakata breaks one hand free from his grasp and punches him. This time Mikoto doesn't evade it; he just braces for the pain. Munakata isn’t holding back - his fist connects with Mikoto's jaw so hard it feels like it got dislocated.
"We okay now?" Mikoto says, wincing just a little. That is going to be an ugly bruise he'll have to explain to Kusanagi and Totsuka tomorrow.
Munakata scoffs. "I'd have to be able to punch you a million times before I call it even," he hisses, but he looks considerably less angry than he was ten seconds ago. Mikoto smirks.
"I'm ready whenever you are," he drawls, gesturing to his cheek. Munakata just gives him a disdainful look and turns away.
"What are you doing here, anyway?" Munakata mutters as he begins to walk. Mikoto keeps up with his pace.
"I was getting a drink," Mikoto says. "I didn't think I'd run into you there."
Munakata glares at him. "Don't you have your own bar?"
"Kusanagi wanted something a little less dangerous this time around," Mikoto says. "We have a coffee shop now." Munakata gives him an incredulous look. "I'm not kidding. You can pass by if you want."
"No thanks," Munakata says. "I'd rather not see your face ever again."
Mikoto slides his hand into Munakata's, intertwining their fingers, and pulls him to a stop right in front of a streetlight. Munakata turns to face him, his expression perfectly readable thanks to the light. "Does the sight of me still make you sick?" he murmurs, pulling him close enough to see Munakata's eyes glaring at him.
"What do you think?" Munakata murmurs back. He doesn't pull away.
Mikoto grins, because nothing is easier than leaning in to close the gap between them. Munakata kisses him back with unparalleled ferocity, as if all his anger and frustration is spilling into the kiss. Mikoto doesn't mind. He feels the same familiar hunger welling up inside, itching for a fight. He buries his hand in Munakata's hair, tugging on it hard. Munakata growls, and Mikoto pulls away from the kiss to laugh out loud. He has never felt this alive since getting a second chance.
The remainder of the night falls into place, as if their chance meeting has been inevitable all along. Mikoto doesn't even remember how they manage to find their way to his apartment and up to his bedroom. There’s a trail of hastily removed clothes leading from the door to the bed. Munakata pushes him down the mattress with a wicked smile, and Mikoto's sure he's wearing the same anticipatory grin. He puts both his hands on Munakata's hips and flips him over, so he's the one towering over him.
"And here I thought I was the eager one," he says.
Munakata looks up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Suoh Mikoto, you have no idea how long you've made me wait for this," he breathes out, and beneath the amusement there is something close to bitter resentment. Mikoto has been expecting that - more of it, actually. He has an inkling that this in itself is a punishment, with how tight Munakata’s holding on to his wrists. But he doesn’t care – he’ll gladly welcome the pain. What matters now is that Munakata is here willingly, and Mikoto won't give him reason to regret it.
Munakata pulls him down sharply, capturing his lips with a vicious kiss. Mikoto licks off the blood, savoring it. He spreads Munakata’s legs apart with his knees, pressing down on him firmly. It's nothing they haven't ever done before - the weight of Munakata against his, the pressing touch of his skin, the intensity of the kisses, the taste of alcohol mixed with cigarettes. If anything Mikoto marvels at how familiar it all is; how they can fall into the same routine with the years between them. If Mikoto were more pessimistic he would imagine this was all a dream.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't dream of Munakata every now and then - wondered where the other man was, if he lived with the burden of memories from a past lifetime, if he ever thought of Mikoto as Mikoto did of him. But those had been fleeting moments. All he really wants now is to be happy, with Totsuka and Kusanagi and Anna, now that they've all found each other again. He's even encountered most of Homra, and they all seem reasonably content with their second chance. Mikoto intends to make the most of it.
But no one ever said he couldn't have Munakata too. Munakata's skin beneath his hands is easily his favorite sensation. Mikoto doesn't know how he's gone so long without this - all he knows is that he's not going to let this go again.
He leaves bite marks on Munakata's throat, scraping his teeth against the fragile skin. In retaliation Munakata drags his nails through his back, with every intention to hurt. Mikoto thrusts into him relentlessly. Munakata doesn't even muffle his cries - he screams in Mikoto's ear, savoring every wince. They've never known how to be gentle with each other, and this time is no exception.
Eventually, Mikoto comes and Munakata soon follows. For a few minutes the only sound in the room is their mingled panting. When Munakata tries to get up, Mikoto forcibly weighs him down.
"Don't go," he says, his voice hoarse and scratchy.
Munakata rolls his eyes. "I don't want to fall asleep like this," he says, wrinkling his nose. Mikoto almost laughs - he's forgotten how prim and proper Munakata insists on being, even after sex. Mikoto lets him up, but he doesn't relax until Munakata crawls back into bed after taking a quick shower. Munakata positions his head in the space between Mikoto's neck and shoulder, and Mikoto clasps his arms around Munakata's waist.
They've always fit into each other, like the stupid puzzles Munakata likes so much. Mikoto doesn't believe in destiny, but he'll make an exception this once.
When Mikoto wakes up, the first thing he sees is Munakata naked in his bed, their legs still tangled. He watches the steady rise and fall of Munakata's chest, idly aware that he's never seen Munakata asleep. The other man always woke up earlier than him whenever they indulged themselves in their stolen moments. He would always be gone come morning, with not a single shred of evidence to indicate the previous evening had even happened, except for the throbbing pain in Mikoto's body and some swelling bruises.
After a few minutes, Munakata's eyes snap open, and he frowns at the scrutiny. He sits up and fumbles for his glasses, which Mikoto had haphazardly taken off his face last night. Munakata eventually locates them on the floor beside his pants. Unwillingly, Mikoto releases his grasp on Munakata's waist and lets him pick up his belongings.
Munakata puts on his glasses and heads for the bathroom. Mikoto trots after him, leaning against the doorframe as Munakata fusses over himself at the mirror.
"You're like an animal," Munakata complains as he surveys the bite marks at the mirror. Mikoto just smirks as he stares openly at Munakata's bare chest, strangely proud.
Mikoto walks up behind him and buries his head near Munakata's neck. "I think you need another one," he says, his teeth grazing the skin of Munakata's ear. He bites down, hard, and is rewarded by the muffled gasp of pain from Munakata's lips.
Munakata shoves him away, his hand covering his ear. "Are you out of your mind?" he hisses in outrage, his face flushed.
Mikoto laughs in reply. Munakata scowls at him and pushes him out of the bathroom, shutting the door at his face. When he emerges, he's fully dressed again, looking as pristine as ever. Mikoto shakes his head, amused. At least Munakata still hasn't lost that particular ability.
Munakata is already heading for the door. "I need to go. I have class," Munakata says.
Mikoto raises his eyebrow. "What?"
Munakata rolls his eyes. "Some of us are on track for a postgraduate degree on the field of Medicine, Suoh Mikoto. Not everyone prefers to lie around and be useless all day."
"I've had enough of being useful a lifetime ago," Mikoto says, and Munakata's eyes narrow. "I think I deserve a time off."
"Well not all of us are so privileged," Munakata sneers, and he turns to go. Mikoto steps in front of him.
"So when do I see you again?"
Munakata’s lips twitch upwards, and Mikoto catches a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "And here I was thinking this would be a one-time thing."
Nothing between them has ever been a one-time thing. Of course, they had never talked about seeing each other again before, either. That had always been a given, a lifetime ago. But this is a different time, and Mikoto refuses to let last night be a chance encounter. Mikoto stares at him stubbornly, and Munakata sighs in resignation. He reaches for his pocket and pulls out his phone. "Give me your number."
Mikoto blinks in response. Munakata smiles at him thinly. "You can't exactly summon me by committing heinous atrocities anymore, right? The easiest way is by phone."
Mikoto shrugs, knowing he can't argue with that logic. He starts to look for his own phone in the room. Munakata patiently waits for him to find it, tapping his foot in slight annoyance. "I don't have my number memorized," Mikoto explains, as he checks his drawers.
Munakata eventually sighs loudly, and grabs a colored pen from bedside table - probably one of Anna's things that she's left lying around whenever she comes by. "If you take any longer, I'm going to be late," he says bluntly. "So here." He takes Mikoto's arm and scrawls a series of numbers on it. "Don't call in the afternoon unless it's important. I'm either in class or studying." Munakata gives him one last threatening look before letting himself out of Mikoto's apartment.
Mikoto calls him that very same afternoon anyway. Munakata picks up and predictably gets mad at him, getting more and more long-winded by the minute. Mikoto listens to the sound of his voice, wondering where this hopeless need is springing up from.
Kusanagi and Totsuka laugh at him as he sits on the couch in the back of the coffee shop, his phone glued to his ear.
"I never would have pegged you for a romantic, Mikoto-san," Totsuka teases, grinning. Mikoto had made him stop calling him "King" the moment they saw each other again. Totsuka's content to call him Mikoto-san; on occasions he mimics Kusanagi's world-weary tone of calling him without the honorific.
"He's actually really clingy," Kusanagi says, rolling his eyes. "We should warn off Munakata-san while we still can."
Mikoto ignores both of them, focusing on Munakata. "So why are you calling, anyway?" Munakata is asking, exasperated.
"No reason," Mikoto answers honestly. At that, he hears Munakata draw an angry breath, and the line goes dead. Mikoto heaves a sigh of his own and decides against dialing Munakata's number right away.
Later in the evening, Munakata enters the coffee shop. He finds Mikoto instantly, his eyes narrowing. He stalks past the tables, ignoring all the customers looking at him curiously.
"What part of "I'm busy" do you not understand, Suoh Mikoto?" he asks coldly as he sits down on the couch beside him, still glaring. Mikoto shrugs, and slides his arm around Munakata's shoulder. Munakata shoves it off, clearly still annoyed.
"You're here, aren't you?" Mikoto points out.
Munakata huffs. "How lucky for you that you always get what you want," he says sarcastically. Then he folds his arms. "Get me a drink."
Mikoto grins, and pesters Kusanagi for some alcohol. He's glad his friend still stocks some bottles among his coffee beans. They drink quietly in the back of the shop, and when Munakata's head begins to nod against his chest, Mikoto silently helps him up. Totsuka opens the backdoor for them with a mischievous smile.
"Don't forget to use protection!" he calls out cheerily as they walk down the street, and Munakata freezes up beside Mikoto, his face burning in mortification.
"I hate you and your people so much," he mutters wearily. Mikoto just puts his hand in his pockets, trying to hide his own grin from Munakata. Munakata catches sight of it anyway and scowls at him, promising a rougher night than before. The thought sends shivers down Mikoto's spine.
From there on it's easy to settle into something familiar, and more often than not, Mikoto wakes up with Munakata beside him. He's come to crave Munakata's warmth in his bed the same way he can't stand a day not hearing Munakata's voice, even if all he has to say is sarcastic remarks about Mikoto's current lifestyle. On weekends Mikoto steals all of Munakata's time, even if he has to stay in the library and watch him pore over his books. Munakata refuses to study in Mikoto's apartment - "You keep distracting me with sex," he complains - so Mikoto follows him to wherever he intends to study. Munakata's own apartment is a no-sex zone, too. It's crammed with books and papers, and Mikoto always feels claustrophobic whenever he goes there. How Munakata even gets any sleep in his place is beyond him.
The only thing Mikoto hates is the fact that Munakata has to tiptoe away early in the morning when he has class. "Don't leave," he says, on more than one occasion.
Munakata sighs. "My books are in my apartment, Suoh," he reminds him. "And I need to study for the final."
"So move here." Mikoto purses his lips petulantly.
Munakata gives him a look of disbelief. "You want us to be roommates?"
Mikoto shrugs. That is the probable next step, isn't it? Munakata stays over so often it doesn't even matter. Living together can't be so difficult.
Munakata narrows his eyes. "You'd have to pull your own weight," he says. "I refuse to do everything for you. I'm not going to be your housekeeper, Suoh."
"I know," Mikoto says, sitting up. "So you're moving in." He makes his tone as final as he can. Munakata just shakes his head and picks up his clothes from the floor.
A week later, Munakata finishes bringing in all the boxes in Mikoto's apartment. "I suppose it's good that you don't have too many things," he says as he surveys the state of the living room. Mikoto shrugs. He's never been much for material things. In fact, most of his appliances in his room were either gifts or things he'd bought to keep Munakata from complaining. A fine example of the latter was the coffee maker.
"I'll have to give Awashima my own," Munakata says, giving the coffee maker from his apartment a thoughtful look. "It would be pointless to have two." Mikoto just shrugs in agreement. It isn't as if he drinks coffee, anyway. Munakata also prefers to brew tea, but only when he has free time. Since his morning classes have begun, he barely has time for it.
Mikoto wraps his arms around Munakata's abdomen and runs his hands up his chest. Munakata gives him a stony glare. "We're not done unpacking," he hisses. Mikoto rolls his eyes. Munakata lets him fuck him anyway, though he grumbles all throughout. Mikoto doesn't mind. He's learned that Munakata complains about the littlest things a long time ago, and it's when he's quiet that Mikoto should worry.
Munakata fills their living room with shelves full of medical books. Mikoto sometimes comes upon him asleep on the table, his notes spread out in front of him. Kusanagi had once explained to him that Munakata's chosen field of study was particularly difficult to succeed in. As far as Mikoto is concerned, Munakata only lives to complicate his own existence. You would think someone who had borne the weight of the world on his shoulders would consider taking it easy on his second life. Mikoto just sighs and throws a blanket over him before stepping out again.
When he comes back late that night, Munakata is blearily blinking at him, his eyes drooping from the lack of sleep. "Sorry," he murmurs, the blanket wrapped closely around him, reminiscent of how Totsuka used to do when he slept in the bar, a long time ago. Mikoto drops down to sit beside him, kissing him gently on the cheek.
"I should probably call Fushimi about some of these later," Munakata sighs, casting a dark look at his notes. "He's talked to our professor about it already." Much to Mikoto's surprise, Munakata still keeps up with Fushimi - considers him a friend, even, since they both go to the same university. They have several classes together, though Fushimi is taking a different course. Fushimi's still as sullen as Mikoto remembers: he had scowled at Mikoto openly when he had seen him again together with Munakata.
Mikoto would have been jealous if he hadn't known that Fushimi's with Yata - something no one from HOMRA had expected at all. Yata seems happy, though, and Mikoto isn't one to judge anyone for what gives them happiness. Fushimi rarely shows up at the coffee shop, probably finally at peace with the fact that he can't have Yata all to himself. Yata, for his part, genuinely seems to understand his boyfriend better than he did a lifetime ago. Totsuka's proud of them. Kusanagi just seems glad there's no trouble. As for Mikoto, he doesn't really care. People have to be responsible for their own lives now. He's not their King anymore, and he's glad to be free of that duty. The only thing he wants to be responsible now is his own happiness, selfish as it might sound.
He grabs Munakata, blanket and all, and hauls him up the bedroom. Munakata doesn’t even make a noise of protest, a sure sign that he’s exhausted. Mikoto drops him unceremoniously on the bed. Munakata rolls to the left side to make room for Mikoto. Mikoto puts his arms around him and pulls him close.
Munakata shakes his head as Mikoto leaves soft kisses on his collarbone. “Suoh, I’m tired,” Munakata murmurs, putting his hand on Mikoto’s chest as a mild form of resistance.
“I know,” Mikoto murmurs back, squeezing closer. Munakata opens his eyes to look at him. He looks surprised – which, in turn, surprises Mikoto. Did Munakata think he’s some sex-crazed fiend or something? “Go get some sleep.” He throws the covers over them, knowing how easily Munakata gets cold.
Munakata gives him a sleepy smile, a rarity in its own. He burrows in Mikoto’s embrace and falls asleep soon after, leaving Mikoto with a rare sense of peace. Mikoto has realized since Munakata moved in that he likes sleeping with him, in the most literal sense of the phrase. The mere presence of him makes Mikoto feel a lot calmer, whether or not they had sex prior. It’s no wonder that his favorite thing is waking up to the sight of Munakata every morning, curled up beside him.
Right now everything is perfect. Mikoto is certain he's happy with how life is at the moment, and he'd be perfectly content to let it stay like this forever. He wakes up the next morning with this conviction in his head.
He curls his hand around Munakata's wrist, causing him to stir. Munakata raises his head sleepily. "Suoh?" he whispers, his body still half buried in the covers.
"We should get married," Mikoto says.