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Tousaki Ryouma ([info]fallen_ryouma) wrote in [info]fallen_leaves,
@ 2009-04-19 17:10:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:kakashi, mission, ryouma

Watch Me Burn [closed to Kakashi and Ryouma]
[[Takes place immediately following Stand Your Ground.]]

Thirty-six hours later, Kakashi was still the pretty one. Chestnut-haired and chocolate-eyed, lean in leather so tight it might have been painted on, he was drawing admiring gazes even before he paid the bouncer at the door of Club 69 and gave up his jacket at the coat check. The mesh shirt glided over pale muscles masked by the liquid curves of a tribal tattoo that covered his entire left shoulder blade and half his upper arm.

He still looked dangerous, but it was the kind of danger that drew men hungry for a thrill.

Ryouma gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the hungry gazes, the naked lust. The naked people were harder to ignore--some guy was dancing on a stage on the lower level in little more than a feathered G-string, and a few of the dancers on the floor around him seemed to be following his example. Most of them really didn't have the physique to pull it off. Perceptions got skewed in Konoha, Ryouma was beginning to realize. Sure, you saw other civilians on missions and in the streets, but for the most part the people you interacted with--the only ones you got close to--were young and lithe and supremely fit. There were a few of that type here, but for the most part...

His gaze was caught, in a sort of fascinated horror, by a man dancing on the fringes of the crowd, near the bar. Surely no one was actually that fat and still mobile? And--oh, no--he was pulling off his shirt--

"Kakashi," Ryouma murmured. "Lend me a kunai. I need to gouge my eyes out."

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:22 pm UTC (link)
Kakashi followed Ryouma's line of sight, and tilted his head slightly to one side. There was something oddly hypnotic about the shine of ice-blue lights over slightly wobbly flesh. He tilted his head the other way--and looked away sharply when the man noticed the attention and winked at him.

"Trust me," he said to Ryouma, leaning up and close to be heard over the music, "I really don't recommend it. Besides, my weapons are back with yours, not getting deafened."

The club had metal detectors installed around the street-doors, and bouncers who really didn't mind getting up close and personal to check you weren't trying to pull a fast one. Seeing as both of them were fully capable of killing with just their hands, Kakashi had suggested they leave their weapons at the hotel and not risk getting kicked out before they'd even gotten in.

For half a heartbeat, stress and edgy thunder were the only scents in the room, then a wave of sweat and excitement and the complex cocktail that came from too many people plastered together heaved up and wiped it away. Kakashi sneezed once, and reminded himself to breathe through his mouth until he got used to it.

But--stress. Even armoured up in shredded denim and a high-riding ink-black shirt that looked almost exactly like what he always wore, Ryouma was a study in tension. The new tattoos that writhed up his arms and disappeared behind midnight-coloured cloth, revealing themselves in shadowed glimpses through every rip stretched over his broad chest, were apparently doing nothing to make him feel steady. Even the new silver cuff glinting in one ear ("I can get Mission to pay for this? Awesome.") had been touched once and then forgotten.

Either clubs really weren't Ryouma's scene, or the twelve--no, wait, fourteen people staring at the way his jeans weren't quite staying up, were really putting a dent in his mood.

Kakashi pressed his lips together, keenly feeling the absence of his mask, and slid his hand into Ryouma's back pocket, making him jump. "We can head to the bar and look available, or stay on the dance floor and pretend we know what we're doing. Got a preference?"

His fingers tapped out a quick sign, hidden from all eyes: loosen up.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:22 pm UTC (link)
"I do know what I'm doing," Ryouma muttered. "I can dance. Jig, even. I just don't think any of that counts as dancing." More like simulated sex, maybe.

Which...okay, he could do. The music wasn't bad; the flashing, strobing lights bathed the two-level club in eerie colors, turning the packed dance floor into a seething mess of exotic bodies. Ryouma had no idea how they were supposed to find the target, or how they'd dispose of him when they did. Maybe they'd have to follow him back to his private room after all...

Kakashi's fingers tapped out the code again, more emphatically. Ryouma took a deep breath. He stretched his shoulders back, deliberately loosening tight muscles, and winced as a fresh gust of air over his ribs signaled an artistic tear suddenly gaping much wider. "Open-minded gay couples," he said. "Edgy lifestyles. Drawing attention. Right."

He grabbed Kakashi's forearm, trapping the hand still pinned in his pocket, and wheeled to face the other man. Two fingers of his free hand hooked into Kakashi's spiked collar, pulling him in. Ryouma kissed him long and hard, grinding closer, breaking free only when they were both in serious danger of asphyxiation. Someone--several someones--whistled.

Ryouma bared his teeth in a wild, reckless grin. "Let's do this."

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:32 pm UTC (link)
That was one way to loosen up. Kakashi licked his lips, catching his breath, and decided he should do seduction missions much more often. Even losing his mask came with fringe benefits. Something low in his belly tightened and tingle; nothing to do with mission-nerves.

"Bar, then," he said firmly, and wondered if it was possible to navigate through the crowd between them and the counter without actually letting go of Ryouma. Or Ryouma letting go of him. He was almost starting to like the collar.

He definitely liked that grin; it smelled like lightning underneath. Like Ryouma finding his mission focus. Like a sliver of hope that maybe they could actually do this.

The music kicked up a notch, graduating from mildly deafening to migraine-inducing, making the crowd explode with movement. It was all drums, the bass beat so loud it distorted the rest of the sound and made the giant speakers rattle, but Kakashi was fairly certain he could hear at least one desperate guitar struggling to make itself heard.

Ryouma wasn't tensing up again. Kakashi wouldn't put it past him to like music that made your eardrums bleed. He left his hand in Ryouma's back pocket, partly in case he had to give another signal, but mostly because he kind of liked his hand there, and began to move backwards towards the bar, tugging Ryouma with him.

It would have worked a whole lot better if Kakashi had actually been tall enough to see over Ryouma's damn shoulders, but he still managed to case the club with a few snatched glances. The second level railing was thronged with people, most of them watching the dancing below; if the target was here tonight, Kakashi would have laid good money that he was up there.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:35 pm UTC (link)
The bar was packed at least three-deep with over-muscled men encased in leather and chains, drag queens in corsets and stilettos and little else, tattooed tax accountants trying to look edgy. Kakashi cut through them like an razor-honed kunai through flesh. He found them a space at the bar between a boy who looked like he spent his days behind a desk and a man with the battered face of a retired prize-fighter. The man sipped his frothy pink drink and ignored them. The boy gave them both a long, lascivious once-over that lingered appreciatively on Ryouma's dagger tattoo and Kakashi's mesh-sheathed pecs.

Ryouma throttled fear, and looked back. The kid was probably about his age, six inches shorter, ten pounds heavier, with a pierced eyebrow and a flashy, but sketchily inked, tiger running up his arm. He looked thrilled beyond words to have actually succeeded in catching Ryouma's eye. "Enjoyin' yourself, handsome?" he purred.

"Oh, yeah," Ryouma said. He leaned hip-shot against the bar, against Kakashi. Adrenaline sang through his veins, heating his skin, quickening his pulse. It had to be adrenaline, because fear wasn't acceptable anymore. "First time here. I gotta say, I'm impressed. Anything here you'd recommend for me and my...boyfriend?"

The boy looked at Kakashi, and looked a little daunted.

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:37 pm UTC (link)
Kakashi was trying to catch the bartender's attention. With unknowns at his back, an uncertain teammate by his side, and a set of goals in front, the whole thing felt just enough like a battle to keep him almost completely relaxed. Get some drinks, dance a little, bait the target, kill the target, go home--

Ryouma was talking to someone. Kakashi glanced sideways and found himself on the receiving end of a wide-eyed stare.

"Yes?" he said, when the music lulled a fraction.

The boy's eyes skidded over his shoulder, marked the false tattoo, flicked back to Ryouma who lifted his eyebrows, and finally settled somewhere between the two of them. "Try the Purple Nurples," he gulped, and smiled in a way that was just a little too shiny, like he'd done an especially clever trick.

Kakashi wondered if open-minded gay couples were allowed to tell people they looked like idiots. "Thanks," he said, when nothing else seemed forthcoming, and went back to signalling at the bartender. Against his side, Ryouma was a thrumming beacon of well-concealed tension; Kakashi could feel the little shivers running through his muscles.

Generally, it was suicide to drink on a mission, but he was starting to think it could only help. As long as one of them remained semi-coherent...

The bartender, a young guy with bleached blond hair gelled up in spikes and a nose ring, planted his elbows on the counter. "Damn, dude!" he crowed "Awesome tats. And yours, too!" He grinned broadly at Ryouma, then looked back at Kakashi. "What can I getcha?"

Kakashi hesitated. Except on the rare occasion, he didn't actually drink. "Purple Nurples?" he suggested finally.

"Make that three!" cried the tiger-tattoo boy, jostling up to Ryouma. Kakashi almost sneezed again when his partner's scent bottomed out into black weather and rotten fruit. "My treat!"

Kakashi tightened his grip on Ryouma a little, fingers moving again. Breathe.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:38 pm UTC (link)
Ryouma was breathing. Slow and deep, admittedly, because at least that way he wasn't hyperventilating. The tiger boy stank of alcohol already. Not seriously sloshed, but already well-lubricated enough to try his luck with men who were clearly out of his league. Ryouma wondered if all his courage came from the bottle, and if liquid courage would conquer fear--or just make him throw up.

"Thanks, man," he said, a little weakly. He reached back to grab Kakashi's wrist, and then thought better of it. He wasn't going to throw up, so Kakashi didn't need to know. This was a mission. You could do things for a mission that would give you screaming nightmares in everyday life, and the nightmares didn't hit until the mission was over and you were ready to deal. It had happened before; it'd happen again.

He smiled at the boy, and reached out with an unnaturally steady hand to trace a finger down the sinuous length of the orange-and-black tattoo clawing its way along the bared forearm. "Tiger, eh? Power and passion." His forefinger tapped the tiger's head, near the boy's wrist, and then pulled back to flick open two buttons and fold back the collar of his own shirt.

The snarling wolf sprang off his chest, glittering under the strobe lights in black and silver, with a golden eye that burned the jewel-tones of the old dragon tattoo. Make-up and jutsu combined to mimic the apex of the tattooist's art.

"My boyfriend had me get it," Ryouma said, tossing a lazy, affectionate smile back over his shoulder. "What d'you think?"

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:41 pm UTC (link)
For a long moment, the boy just stared. "Whoa," he breathed finally, and reached out a mesmerized hand to return Ryouma's caress.

Kakashi leaned across and caught his wrist firmly. "I don't have jealousy issues," he said with a flat smile, "But I have taste issues. Keep your hands to yourself or I'll break something off." He squeezed his fingers briefly, leaving white marks, then released his grip. The boy yanked his hand back as if he'd been burned, face flushing under the wheeling lights.

"Dude--he started it!" he protested, flapping his ungrabbed hand at Ryouma. "I was just--he--you--!"

The burly man sipping a frothy pink drink leaned back from the bar and tapped the boy on the shoulder. "Don't start a fight," he suggested evenly. "You'll lose, and I'll miss out on the opportunity to appreciate the eyecandy."

"Purple Nurples!" the bartender announced, slapping down three brimming shot glasses. He skidded one towards the tiger-tattoo boy. "Hey, guy, if you look over your shoulder, the dude with the blue mohawk is totally checking you out. Howsabout you go say hi?"

The boy gaped at him, face burning darker, and jerked a stiff glance over his shoulder. "Really?"

"Absolutely! Fine fella like yourself should be hanging out with the singles crowd. Go on, how about you take him a drink? He's more the beer type, I think." A tall bottle joined the shotglass on the bar, condensation dripping down its sides. "On the house. Just have fun!"

The boy darted a glance at Kakashi and Ryouma, clocked Kakashi lifting an eyebrow at him, and grabbed both drinks before anyone could take them away from him. He fled. A drag queen dressed mostly in red spandex took his place.

Kakashi picked up one of the remaining shot glasses with careful fingers and tilted it towards the light. The contents were a deep plum colour and smelled mostly of rum. "Okay, so maybe I have small jealousy issues," he told it thoughtfully, and offered it to Ryouma.

The bartender gave them both a once over, gaze finally settling on the wolf tattoo's gleaming teeth. "Who wouldn't?" he said, and went to take the drag queen's order.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:41 pm UTC (link)
Ryouma's fingers fit very carefully around the slippery sides of the shot glass. At least it was small; he could down that in one gulp, and hopefully keep it down. If he held his breath until it was over...

He set the cold rim of the glass against his lower lip, threw his head back, and swallowed. The shot-glass smacked down, reversed, on the polished counter. He ran his tongue around his lips, tasting coconut, cranberry, an almost overpowering sweetness, and a hint of the biting aftertaste of alcohol.

His stomach didn't surge. He didn't fall over, or pass out, or snap into a panic attack. He did, finally, manage to breathe again.

"Hey," he said. His voice was steady, too; if he was trembling, only Kakashi could feel it. "I thought you were the one who wanted a threesome. Changed your mind? Or you just want me to find someone better?"

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:44 pm UTC (link)
"It's my birthday," Kakashi invented on the spot. "I'm allowed to be picky." He dragged a smile over his face, tilting his head back to see Ryouma's. "And who wants to get up close and personal with a kid who obviously can't tell the difference between his ass and his elbow? I want someone who knows what we're worth."

It was almost possible to hear the ears pricking up around them; Kakashi hoped that alone might be enough to get word to their target, wherever he was, but he wouldn't bet on it. They'd have to draw more attention to themselves.

The shot glass resting between his fingers felt cool and slick, trembling faintly as the music sent vibrations up through the bar. It wasn't the only thing; he could feel Ryouma shaking against his side, not enough for anyone to see, but enough to shard a spike of worry right through his mission focus. Ryouma's scent was almost black. He'd had one drink. What was so scary about alcohol?

Whatever it was, it put one hell of a crimp in Kakashi's plans to chill him out with a second shot. He tossed it back himself, instead, swallowing quickly, and dropped the glass back onto the counter. "C'mon, I want to dance. Maybe we can find someone interesting out on the floor." He ran his free hand up over Ryouma's stomach, smoothing cloth and tears and fear-chilled skin, and let it settle against strong ribs, fingers splayed. A perfectly boyfriend-y gesture; and one he did without any thought of the mission whatsoever. "And smile, hey? We're supposed to be celebrating!"

If he ever found out who had left Ryouma this afraid, someone was going to die.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:45 pm UTC (link)
Three weeks ago, if Ryouma had heard Kakashi announce his intention to celebrate his birthday with alcohol, dancing, and a gay threesome, he'd probably have sent a quick message to T&I and started looking for ways to restrain an obvious imposter. Now, he latched onto it like a lifeline.

"I am celebrating," he protested. "Forgot my party hat, but look, I got the important stuff." An open hand indicated borderline-indecent clothing, strobing lights, the bar, the writhing crowd on the dance-floor, and came back to settle on Kakashi's hip. "S'not my fault no one here's good enough for you. Either you pick the next one quick, or--"

He licked his lips again, tasting a tingle of alcohol, and changed his mind. Maybe he could kiss a drunk man for the mission, but he didn't think he could bear it if Kakashi tasted of liquor, too. He tipped his head sideways instead, stooping just a little, and licked salty sweat from the tender skin of Kakashi's throat above the collar. "Or I change my mind about sharing," he purred, just loud enough for the closest half-dozen men around them to hear, "and you get something else for your birthday."

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:48 pm UTC (link)
It was a mark of just how deep Ryouma's voice could go that, for half a heartbeat, Kakashi seriously considered declaring the mission impossible and dragging him back to their hotel room. For half a heartbeat. Then he reminded himself that the tongue against his jugular, the rumble against his skin, was there for a reason--and it wasn't just to remind him exactly how good Ryouma looked in those shredded jeans.

Mission. Target. Assassination. Right.

"Don't you dare get possessive on me." He pressed his lips together and tilted his head back, baring the line of his neck with a swallow that wasn't entirely faked. The hand against Ryouma's ribs slid up, over the hard blade of one shoulder and the line of his neck until Kakashi could tangle his fingers in short black hair and yank a little, playing up as the spoiled brat. "You promised me one night of serious fun, and I can be picky all I li--"

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

Not reacting with an instinctive ninja flinch was harder than it should have been. Kakashi tensed, but managed to keep it subtle enough that only Ryouma should have been able to tell. "I'm a little busy here," he drawled, dropping his chin to glare at the interloper.

A man in his late twenties gazed calmly back. Unlike the rest of the club, he was dressed a little incongruously in a neat dark business suit, but a black ring glinted in his lower lip. His chakra felt like the slick, ordered coil of a high-level ninja. "My apologies," he said without any particular inflection. "But I was sent to invite both you and your boyfriend--" he inclined his head at Ryouma, "--to the upper level for a drink. My employer would be delighted to make your acquaintance."

"Oh?" said Kakashi, and wondered if maybe they wouldn't have to make much more of a scene after all. "Who's your employer?"

The man smiled. "Matsuda. Matsuda Kino."

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:48 pm UTC (link)
"Dude," Ryouma said, straightening up and staring. Something about the way the suited bodyguard said that name triggered a faint memory. A television show, a year or two ago, and they'd said--

"You're shitting me. Matsuda?"

The suit opened his mouth; Ryouma ignored him. "You know who this guy is?" he demanded, and plunged on before Kakashi could respond. "He put Another High on the map. He made Coldforged's first album a bestseller. Which, okay, they deserved--'Results in a Victory' was brilliant!--but three labels turned them down before Matsuda-san got them in with Shibuya Group. He--"

The suit coughed. "He is waiting, gentlemen."

Ryouma slid two fingers through Kakashi's collar, and tugged. "Come on! You're never gonna get a better opportunity for someone interesting than this!"

His fingers trembled against the steady beat of Kakashi's pulse. His own heartbeat had spiked to a thumping race; he hoped desperately that they'd take it for excitement or adrenaline. He could pull this off. He could.

And then they could kill the target, and get the hell back to Konoha.

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:51 pm UTC (link)
Kakashi was starting to wonder if Ryouma had a collar fetish--or he would have been, if his focus hadn't already been split between watching the suited ninja without giving them away and trying to figure out how Ryouma knew all of that. It hadn't been in the report, or Kakashi would have known it, too, but it wasn't like Ryouma could go off and do research when he couldn't actually read. Not to mention that they'd been a little busy getting ready and running their feet sore to get here...

Kakashi refocused. Ryouma was probably just enough of a rock fanatic to know the details off by heart, and he hadn't mentioned anything because he'd wanted Kakashi's surprise to look real--

Speaking of which, he should look surprised. Or annoyed that his boyfriend had gone starry-eyed over a complete stranger. Any emotion, really.

He wrapped his fingers around Ryouma's wrist, easing the tug against his throat, and made himself step close to his partner's side; much closer than was really comfortable for a ninja in uncertain circumstances.

The suited man was watching him, eyebrows raised. "Well? Will you be joining us for your--" he cleared his throat delicately, "--birthday celebration?"

Kakashi rolled his eyes deliberately. "More like his celebration," he said, bumping his hip against Ryouma's, trying not to feel the way the other man's pulse flickered far too fast. "But if your boss is really that interesting--sure, I'll play meet and greet."

"Excellent. Than if you'd care to follow me?" He slid away from the bar and weaved skillfully through the crowd.

Kakashi made sure to follow with less grace. Halfway up the stairs he tilted his head to glance back at Ryouma. "Another High? Seriously?" he said, without any idea what he was talking about. "You really have the worst taste..."

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:52 pm UTC (link)
"Who's talking about taste?" Ryouma snorted. "You think Hookers From God is the best thing to happen to rock music since Shutdown Assassin. Look, this guy doesn't just have serious contacts--he is serious contacts. Contact. Whatever. Too much to hope he'd be looking to sign up a new band, but I heard wild stories about the parties he throws, anyway--"

Under his prattling voice, his fingers curled back to reach the back of Kakashi's hand, wrapped around his wrist. The angle was awkward, and he couldn't form all the signs, but he still managed to tap out a passable code: Scandal. Band pay sex for fame. Dammit, he wasn't nearly good enough at code-tapping to cover the range of ideas he needed to express with this. But Kakashi should get the gist. The suited man undoubtedly thought his employer was famous for his wealth, but Ryouma paid little attention to politics and still less to economics.

He did remember the brief mention on the news eighteen months ago, though, just after Coldforged released its first album. No one had been able to prove anything, of course, but there were more than a few allegations-veiled-as-rumors about the wealthy playboy who accepted sexual favors in return for introducing young rock bands to his music producer friends. And the next time Ryouma caught that news show, that particular announcer wasn't around anymore...

If it was true--if this was the same Matsuda Kino--they might have an angle he'd never guessed. Follow me, he tapped against Kakashi's hand. Stray Dogs.

It might not work. But if it did...

If it did, Ryouma wouldn't be able to listen to rock music for a very long time.

He slammed that thought down. They had the mission now, and nothing else.

They reached the top of the stairs; the suited man paused, making eye-contact with another dark suit in the shadows beyond a pillar. Ryouma turned back to Kakashi, lowering his voice just enough that the guards would have to actively listen to hear. "Look, this is your birthday. If you want something else... But this guy could really make a difference to my band, if he likes us. I'll make it up to you."

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:55 pm UTC (link)
Kakashi pulled his hand back and folded his arms, canting his weight onto one hip. His hair flopped into his face; he twitched it aside. "You better," he said firmly, but let a smile pull at his mouth. "We're talking two--no, three decent dinner dates. To nice places, mind you." He tipped his head, pretending to consider. "And I want a song dedicated to me. Something that'll make people scream." Whatever Ryouma was planning, he was ready to go with it. Though he had no idea what the hell Stray Dogs was supposed to mean.

"Well," said a warm voice behind Ryouma's shoulder, "demanding little thing, isn't he?"

Something inside Kakashi turned cold. He hadn't felt anyone approach. Even with his chakra carefully bound down to mimic a civilian's pattern, he should have felt something...

"I have high standards," he drawled, stepping to Ryouma's side and unfolding his arms; one hand hooked into his waistband, the other caught Ryouma's and laced their fingers together. "And I'm not little."

Matsuda--it had to be Matsuda--smiled broadly at him, teeth gleaming white in the dark club lights. He was tall, at least on eye-level with Ryouma, and handsome in a dark sort of way. His hair was black, and just long enough to hang in his eyes. Silver rings gleamed in both ears. He was dressed in jeans and another artistically torn shirt, and his gaze was riveted firmly on the both of them. "Oh," he said, and slid his eyes down, "I'm quite sure you're not."

If Kakashi's fingers clenched on Ryouma's, it was just a brief muscle twitch.

"My congratulations on your birthday," Matsuda continued, offering a hand decorated only by one silver ring. "I'm delighted you could grace our club on such an auspicious occasion..."

"Sato Katsuki," said Kakashi, taking the hand. "And this is my partner, Shimana Ryouji."

"Delighted," Matsuda replied, gracing them both with another broad smile; his grip was firm and calloused, but Kakashi was ready for it when two fingers caressed over his pulse before Matsuda released him; he barely twitched. "You both have wonderful tattoos. Is that a wolf on your chest?" The hand offered to Ryouma changed its mind halfway and reached up to tease at his shirt, widening one of the tears. "That's magnificent!"

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:56 pm UTC (link)
I can do this flickered to I can't do this so quickly that Ryouma caught his breath on a sharp gasp. Kakashi's hand clenched on his. Warning.

Strengthening.

He tilted his head back to meet the dark eyes that had flicked up to his, and if there was an edge to his smile, it didn't seem to matter. "It should be a stray dog, for the name of my band, but Katsuki convinced me a wolf'd be cooler. The artist who did it had to be working some kind of ninja magic. Skin's extra sensitive there, now." He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue, lingering just a little too long. "It makes a real difference."

"Does it," Matsuda breathed, fascinated. His fingers left off flirting with the torn edges of the shirt and slipped into the open collar, tracing lightly over the false tattoo. Ryouma didn't have to feign the hitch to his breath. Matsuda's smile widened. "It's for your band, you said, Ryouji-kun?"

He used the personal name with startling familiarity. Ryouma forced himself to go with it. "I'm lead guitarist for Stray Dogs. We're just getting off the ground, really, but we've got some good songs. I write 'em. My friend Rei, he sings, and his little brother's our drummer. Katsuki, here, he's our biggest fan. Lets me know whenever I've done really well." He threw a fond glance sideways, at the artfully disheveled brown head that still startled him whenever he saw it.

Kakashi was watching Matsuda. It was Ryouma's turn to squeeze back, hard.

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 06:57 pm UTC (link)
Kakashi jumped a little, just as Matsuda reached out a careful hand and caught his chin, tilting his head up. It took everything he had not to break the man's arm there and then. Ryouma's warning grip kept his hand down by his side.

"You're not in the band, Katsuki-kun?" Matsuda asked, and sounded honestly disappointed. His thumb brushed the edge of Kakashi's lower lip. "That's such a shame. The pair of you have a fantastic look together. Very arresting."

Flesh-toned make-up hid the scar that hooked the left side of Kakashi's bottom lip, as it did the one tracing down from his left eye, but it wouldn't prevent Matsuda from feeling it if he moved his thumb the wrong way.

With his free hand, Kakashi reached up and slid his fingers around Matsuda's wrist, arresting his hand. "I don't think I'm nearly drunk enough for that kind of flattery," he said, and pulled up a lazy kind of smirk. "Now, I realize I'm supposed to be in awe because you're a respected man with all kinds of interesting connections, and my boyfriend here has warned me to be on my very best behavior because he's hoping you'll find something to like in him. But I don't take kindly to getting groped in the first five minutes of meeting someone."

Matsuda raised one arching black eyebrow.

"The second five minutes, however," Kakashi went on, "might be a different story. Especially if you pay some actual lipservice to Ryouji's art." He smiled wider, lingering on the word 'lipservice'. "Call it a birthday present."

Matsudo looked at him for a long moment, then at Ryouma, and then laughed softly. "If this is your very best behaviour, I'd hate to see your worst." He winked at Ryouma. "Or maybe I wouldn't. All right! Drinks. Music. And tell me all about this band." He waved an arm at a set of doors shadowed in the alcove between a pair of tall pillars, flanked by suited men. "My personal bar, if you'd care to accompany me?"

Kakashi released his wrist and leaned against Ryouma, just for a moment. Then he pulled away. "Sounds perfect."

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 06:59 pm UTC (link)
No one seemed to expect a response from Ryouma, which was just as well; he was having enough difficulty just getting his thoughts to move in a straight line, instead of frenzied circles. Too many things he hadn't thought through, too many holes he'd left to trip in. He'd never even actually played a guitar, if you didn't count strenuous bouts of air guitar, or the one time he'd picked up an instrument in a pawn shop and messed around for ten minutes before he forced himself to walk away. He hadn't had the money, and then he'd thought he didn't have the time...

Well, he certainly didn't have the time now. They'd have to make do, anyhow.

The private room was tiny, barely larger than Ryouma's apartment back at HQ. A bar glistening with crystal and bottles ran halfway along one curving wall; a leather-padded sofa behind a glass table matched it along the arc of the opposite wall. In the center, where anyone crossing the room would have to swing out widely to skirt it, was a circular hassock large enough to be a bed, upholstered in leather and piled with pillows. The room was sound-proofed from the rest of the club; a low, spine-tingling beat throbbed over hidden speakers, keeping time with the soft pulses of colored light from a lamp behind the bar.

The ceiling was mirrored. Ryouma bit his lip, and choked down an insane giggle.

One suit-clad man already lurked behind the bar. Another, the one with the pierced lip, took up a discreet stance just inside the doors. Matsuda ignored him, and waved to the other. "Taka! Bring sake. We have a birthday to celebrate." His smile slid back to Kakashi. "It sounds like a very special occasion."

There was something about the way he said those words-- Ryouma looked sharply over at the bar-tender, but the man was already ducking down, sorting out bottles and cups. Then Matsuda's broad hand slid between Ryouma's shoulder blades, guiding him on, and he had to step or stumble.

He headed for the sofa, as a slightly safer option than the bed-thing. It was softer than he'd expected; he sprawled into its depths in real surprise. "Wow! You've sure got a nice set-up. You a regular here?"

"I have a few other clubs, but yes, this is my favorite." Matsuda slid smoothly in, so close that his thigh brushed Ryouma's. At least he hadn't separated them; Ryouma leaned back against Kakashi's shoulder, and tried to breathe.

The target noticed, dammit. "Nervous, Ryouji-kun?" he inquired, looking amused. He reached out, without glancing away, for the tray of sake bottles and cups the bar-tender had just set at his elbow. "I assure you, I don't bite without an invitation. I really am interested."

He hadn't mentioned in what, Ryouma noted, and cracked a quick grin back.

He seemed to have lost his voice.

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 07:01 pm UTC (link)
"I like your bed," Kakashi drawled to the room at large, leaning around to rest his chin on Ryouma's shoulder. "It's very... subtle." He slipped his arm around Ryouma's waist, feeling the quiver of overly tense muscles beneath skintight cloth, and flattened his palm against heavy ribs. Matsuda was watching them closely; Kakashi smiled. "You'll have to give him a minute. He gets kind of shy sometimes, especially around..." he flicked a glance over the room, taking in everything at once with a one-shouldered shrug. "It's not what we're used to."

It was easier to catch individual scents now, without the overwhelming crush of sweaty, excited people to drown out the details. The suited men were a background flicker, calm and controlled in their suits and basic anonymity; they blended into the room. Ryouma, right beneath his nose, was a convoluted tangle of stress and fear and bitter-tasting sweat, without any kind of witty quip or bladed comment to hide behind. He worried Kakashi.

Matsuda worried him a whole lot more. His scent was the predatory musk of a waiting hunter, wrapped up in an expensive suit and distracting cologne. He didn't smell nervous, he smelled excited.

And he was reaching out to cup a reassuring hand over Ryouma's knee. "Well, my dears," he said, voice filled with warm, brassy tones, "what are you used to?"

Kakashi made himself smile again, then he pressed a kiss to the edge of Ryouma's jaw. "I wouldn't say no to some of that sake," he said, letting his voice slip down the scale until it rumbled. "But just for me. Ryouji's a miserable drunk. All melancholy; no fun."

Matsuda chuckled, though his eyes darkened a little, and reached across Ryouma to offer Kakashi one of the delicate ceramic cups. "That's such a shame. It can really do wonders for helping you loosen up."

Kakashi shrugged, and made sure to brush his fingers deliberately along Matsuda's when he accepted the drink. Behind Ryouma's back, his other hand was busy tapping out a slow message: Stay sober, whatever he does. Remember: brilliant rescue scheme. "At least he'll be able to see straight when he needs to take me home?" he said, and won a second small chuckle.

"Let's hope that's not too soon," Matsuda replied, and raised his cup. "Happy birthday, Katsuki-kun. May the next year bring you fortune."

"Let's hope," Kakashi echoed, and threw back the shot under the watchful gaze of two pairs of dark eyes. It tasted of nothing but sake. Matsuda beamed at him; Kakashi wished he had a kunai.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 07:02 pm UTC (link)
Ryouma should be watching the target, he knew, or at least scouting out the other threats--the bartender's sleekly tailored suit didn't do much to hide his heavy musculature or alert stance--or, really, doing anything other than watching his partner drink. He tried to watch the way the clean sharp line of Kakashi's jaw clenched as he drank, the way his throat bobbed under the spiked collar as he swallowed. Somehow his eyes still kept skipping up to the tiny ceramic cup, to the bead of clear liquid that trembled at the corner of Kakashi's mouth before he licked it away...

The hand over Ryouma's knee moved in a slow, lazy pattern, fingernails skimming over skin through the ragged hole in his jeans. He caught his shudder before it happened, froze his muscle into icy steel. Shy, Kakashi had said. Thrilled at the prospect of meeting so famous a man, a little overwhelmed at the circumstances in which he'd so suddenly found himself, maybe even slightly nervous. But not scared. Fear belonged to a seven-year-old boy tasting alcohol for the first time on someone else's breath.

He wasn't that boy anymore. If he meant to make it through this, he couldn't be.

His lips parted, even as his brain still frantically scrambled for words. Then Matsuda's low voice rumbled behind him, and he lost them all again. "Really, Ryouji-kun, you'd let your biggest fan drink alone on his birthday?" The big man refilled his own cup, and held it out. "Surely one toast won't ruin you."

"I cry," Ryouma said. "Sniffling and everything. It's really not attractive."

Matsuda chuckled. "What a pity. Well, then, perhaps you'll grace him with a celebratory kiss instead? Don't hesitate on my account." He chuckled again.

The muscular bartender was still polishing bottles behind his counter; the other guard lurked ominously by the door. Matsuda toyed with his sake cup and with the loose threads of Ryouma's jeans, and watched Ryouma with eyes bright as newly honed knives. For all his talk about liquor, he wasn't loosening up at all.

So they'd have to make him. Ryouma threw his head back with a brilliant grin, wrapped a long arm around Kakashi's neck, and kissed him with a fervor to melt bones.

Matsuda's hand slipped up his thigh. Ryouma moaned, and ground closer to Kakashi.

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 07:05 pm UTC (link)
Matsuda's request had been warning enough of what Ryouma was probably going to do, but Kakashi was still caught off-guard by the sheer enthusiasm. It was a little like expecting rain and finding yourself dodging thunder--or kissing a landslide. Ryouma's arm was tight around his neck, fingers hard and sure on Kakashi's biceps. His mouth was hot and demanding and still tasted slightly sweet with the memory of cranberry and rum. He was groaning.

And behind him, Matsuda's scent was warming up.

Kakashi closed his eyes, dropped the sake cup somewhere off to one side, and kissed Ryouma back, hard, sliding his hands up to tangle in cloth and hair. It wasn't the picture-perfect lip-sync a fully trained seduction expert would have been able to manage, but that was sort of the point. They were rough and--not necessarily unskilled, but civilian, even if they weren't being civil. Kakashi bit down, teeth catching on Ryouma's lower lip, and won another deep groan. A closer press of warmth and muscle against his chest, and an approving noise from Matsuda.

Definitely warming up.

Good. Now what? They couldn't make a move on him until the guards left. Matsuda himself might only be a chuunin--and Kakashi was starting to have quiet doubts about that--but his guards were definitely at the top end of what money could buy, even if one of them was busy pretending to be a bartender.

He really hoped that sake had been just sake. He didn't feel any different, but--

Focus on Ryouma. And the target. Pick a next step.

He broke away with a low gasp that wasn't remotely faked and licked his lips, panting a little, letting Ryouma's taste wash away the burn of alcohol. His eyes slid over to Matsuda, who was watching them with a focus that was several ranks above unnerving, and rising. Kakashi made himself smile, curving his mouth just enough to show teeth without fangs. "I think I'm going to enjoy this birthday," he said.

"I should hope so," Matsuda said, and smiled back. There were faint lines bracketing his mouth, laughter lines. His hand was flattened over one of the wider tears in Ryouma's jeans. "And now I think it's my turn to offer you a birthday kiss, if I may be so very bold."

Behind Ryouma's back, hidden from sight, Kakashi's fingers dug in. But all that came out of his mouth was a quick laugh and a low-voiced answer. "Like I said: definitely going to enjoy this birthday."

He slid up and on to Ryouma's lap, leaning across him, and braced one hand on Matsuda's broad chest when he moved in, steady and sure. A hand cupped the back of his head. Lips met his. In some ways it was like a landslide all over again, but this time there was no safe place to stand.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 07:06 pm UTC (link)
Something low and treacherous, buried deep behind Ryouma's breastbone, was fervently glad that wasn't him.

A substantially larger part caught him by the throat, and demanded blood.

Sadao had died for what he did. Matsuda would, too. And this time, Ryouma swore, his hand would be the one to do it.

He wrapped an arm around Kakashi's waist and shifted his own hips, an unsubtle wriggling that both pressed his thigh against Matsuda's and half-broke the kiss. Kakashi leaned back, breathing heavily, muscles tense as steel cords under Ryouma's arm. Matsuda licked his lips, and smiled.

"You look as if you don't enjoy being left out of the action, Ryouji-kun."

"I can't get off just watching porn, either," Ryouma confessed. Pinned between Kakashi and the high leather back of the sofa, he tried leaning forward. The angle and twist was just enough. One of the larger tears in his shirt gave way completely, leaving half his collar fluttering free. He swore and pulled back again to bat ineffectually at it. "This was brand-new!"

"It's been improved." A private laugh rumbled in Matsuda's voice; he reached out, grazing his fingertips over the bristling hackles of the wolf tattooed just below Ryouma's collarbone. "I'll make you a deal, Ryouji-kun. Let Taka mix you a drink--not much, just enough to help you loosen up a little and enjoy yourself--and then I'll send him off with your shirt. He'll be back with a replacement by the time we're done here."

He was playing right into their hands. Ryouma tipped his head back against the sofa, pretending a moment of reflection he didn't need. One or two sips, maybe, and then the bartender would be out of the room, and Kakashi could handle the other guard without breaking a sweat--

"All right," he said, lifting a very casual shoulder. "It was getting hot in here, anyway. I got two conditions, though. Something fruity, and as close to virgin as you can get it. And you two have to take off the shirt."

He leaned back, grinning triumphantly, and tried to meet Kakashi's eyes. We can do this. Ten minutes, and we'll be done.

And then he'd spent the next month wearing hoodies and baggy sweatpants, and drinking straight mouthwash.

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 07:12 pm UTC (link)
It was unwise to strangle your mission partner for stepping right back into the path of a second kunai when you'd just gotten through taking the first one for him, even if you really wanted to. Matsuda had an agenda with his alcohol; Kakashi could almost smell it. And he was starting to feel quietly, desperately afraid that he'd swallowed something fatal. Or worse.

His stomach felt warm, but his hands were cold.

He shoved the thought aside. Later, when Matsuda was dead, he'd deal with the consequences. But not until then.

A hand tightened around his waist. Ryouma was giving him a significant look from under coal-black lashes, hiding it behind a blinding smile that told the world just how pleased with himself he was. Kakashi struggled not to throttle him again. "If you start to cry," he said, with just the hint of a sharp, worried edge, "I'll not be held responsible. I'll laugh at you. And I'll steal your new t-shirt."

Matsuda laughed quietly, and circled his fingers around Kakashi's wrist, pulling the hand from his chest and guiding it down to Ryouma's hemline, where he flattened his palm over both. "You'll have to get him out of the old one first, Katsuki-kun. There's no reward without a little work first, after all."

"Wise as well as handsome," Kakashi drawled, sarcastic and not-really-teasing, tipping his head back a little. "Look out, Ryouji, maybe I'll just replace you completely." Matsuda's hand was warm over his, callouses rasping against skin. Kakashi curled his fingers into the hem of Ryouma's ruined shirt and yanked sharply, feeling cloth give with a long tearing sound. Matsuda sucked in a quick breath.

"I do believe you really are annoyed," he said, fingers tightening just a little over Kakashi's hand. "Is he really that bad? It'll only be a light drink. Barely a taste." His smile stretched out and showed laughter lines again.

"He's always bad," Kakashi said, and used his free hand to catch a fluttering strip of cloth. He pulled, ignoring the way his fingers seemed to fumble. More shirt tore. In the low lighting, Ryouma's phantom tattoos gleamed inky black; Kakashi couldn't see the scars beneath them. "But some days he's worse."

"Bad boy?" Matsuda chuckled. "I could make such a terrible joke about punishments..." He reached up and plucked the shredded collar from where it dangled limply over Ryouma's shoulder. "Lean forward?"

Ryouma shifted, muscles flexing enough to make the wolf ripple, and Matsuda slid his shirt free. He tugged it out of Kakashi's hands and let it fall to the floor. On the right, the bartender appeared silently with a tray bearing one long-stemmed glass. He set it down, gathered the shirt from the carpet, and ghosted silently towards the door. It shut with a quiet click behind him.

Matsuda nodded at Ryouma. "I've kept my side so far, my dear. Your turn now."

Ryouma, still smiling that broad, lazy grin, reached out for the glass--Kakashi got there first.

"But you see," he said, grabbing the drink with one hand, eyes fixed just for a moment on the way Ryouma's fingers were held just a little too stiff to tremble, "he's not the only bad one. Some days I'm worse."

It wasn't a plan; it was thoughts that felt suddenly slippery tangling into an idea that became intent.

He leaned back, felt Matsuda's grip on his wrist tighten hard enough to make bones grate, and downed the fruity concoction in three quick swallows. It barely tasted of alcohol. This time, he didn't bother to hope there wasn't anything else in it. The glass dropped onto the sofa and Kakashi leaned forward, right in Matsada's face, pulling all the focus in the room. He smiled wide. Heard his words slur. "So what was that joke about punishments?"

His free hand fell to Ryouma's leg and squeezed: Now.

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[info]fallen_ryouma
2009-04-19 07:13 pm UTC (link)
Killing intent bloomed like a flower from hell. Matsuda's head jerked back, but his hand tightened on Kakashi's wrist. Bones creaked under the pounding throb of the music. "Shinobi," he breathed. "Too bad. I liked you boys--"

"Wasn't reciprocal," Ryouma said, and threw himself sideways into the table.

It overturned with a spectacular crash, spraying glass shards over the plush carpet. Kakashi twisted violently, using his own wrist as the fulcrum, and ripped free. "Guard!" Ryouma snarled at him, and didn't watch him go.

Matsuda was on his feet, now, with a kunai in his hand. He was still smiling with the gentle, slightly pitying smile of a man who knows what he has to do and will take only a little pleasure in doing it. "You were wise not to drink," he said. "A pity your partner didn't follow your example. A shame he won't live to regret it."

Ryouma's heart stuttered, but his fingers didn't. "You'd better hope you don't see him in hell," he said, as he hit the Dog seal. "He'll kick your ass." Chakra roiled between his hands, heavy and noisome, dark as decay. "Actually, he'll just pull your heart out and make you watch it fry. Good thing you got me instead."

He ducked in without waiting for a response. Matsuda leapt aside, slashing down sharply at the place Ryouma's neck would have been if he'd been a heartbeat slower. The recovery was even faster. The blade scored a bright line down Ryouma's back, sinking in under his right shoulder blade--

But that didn't much matter, because as the blade bit into muscle, Ryouma's left palm slapped solidly just above Matsuda's belt buckle. He shoved chakra through with everything he had. Rotting flesh oozed between his fingers, and then abruptly gave way to a tidal-wave of blackening slime.

Matsuda's knees buckled. His mouth gaped, fighting for breath. Ryouma's right hand slammed into his throat, and cut the scream off before it began.

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[info]fallen_kakashi
2009-04-19 07:18 pm UTC (link)
With chakra greased like lightning through his blood, the world snapped into a sharper focus. Ryouma yelled; Kakashi moved. The guard was the new target, and everything was as it should be. He hit the carpet and rolled back up, ignoring the glittering shards of broken glass strewn everywhere. Ryouma was already lunging in to take Matsuda down--

And Kakashi had a guard to kill.

He snapped his head around, sighted the man with the pierced lip already leaping towards them, and slapped a hand down to his belt--which was empty of weapons. They'd left them all behind. He should've remembered that.

Chakra, then. A jutsu. Even a bare-handed kill if he had to.

The guard unsheathed a long, needle-sharp blade from a scabbard hidden under his jacket. The ringing song of metal was lost under the steady thump of music. Kakashi yanked his hands up, flicked through a quick set of seals, and threw himself forward, blocking the guard's run to Ryouma and Matsuda both.

Half a second later, his back hit the wall and the sword cut his throat--just deep enough to spill blood down the fine pattern of mesh clinging to his chest.

"Wha--" he snarled, and wrenched a hand full of blue-white chakra up, slapping the blade aside. The guard countered with a blow so fast Kakashi didn't even see it before his head cracked against plaster. Black sparks danced in front of his eyes. A hard arm pinned him to the wall.

In the suddenly tinny distance, Matsuda was choking, gargling on breath he couldn't draw. The room stank of rot. The guard snatched a glance over his shoulder and paled; Kakashi watched the blood drain from his face with interest that felt suddenly distant, and yanked the blade back around, sticking it to his palm with chakra as he tried to slice the man's throat. His control faltered halfway; the guard spat and punched him in the temple, pulling the weapon free.

More sparks. This time, when vision returned, the sword was hovering at his throat. Metal left gleaming trails in the air when it moved.

"Shouldn't have drank," said the guard, and Kakashi had to focus hard to read his lips. They were out of sync with his words. He reached out and tried to wrap his fingers around the man's wrist, but couldn't get a steady grip.

The guard grabbed him by the hair in return, pulling him away from the wall and turning them both, stepping behind Kakashi to jam the blade up under his chin. Which was a minor problem, because Kakashi thought his knees might be starting to give way.

"Idiot," he rasped, but the guard wasn't paying attention to him anymore. He was staring over Kakashi's shoulder at his former employer, eyes wide on the shape standing above it, a black shadow that twisted with sickly green light. Sound came from a long way away.

"--ack off if you want him to liv--"

"Idi't," said Kakashi again, forcing the words out around cold metal and numb lips. "Only gonna make him mad..."

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