not your typical annihilatrix (furiosity) wrote,
not your typical annihilatrix

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Fic: [K] Accomplice/Gauche (Suoh/Munakata; Suoh/Totsuka; R)

Title: Accomplice/Gauche
Fandom: K Project
Rating: R
Pairings: Suoh Mikoto/Munakata Reisi, Suoh Mikoto/Totsuka Tatara
Disclaimer: GoRA owns. I only play. You do not sue.
Summary: There are things we believe could never happen, not really: they look fine on paper and on screen, but there are a million reasons why they don't quite fit into life. Mikoto meets Munakata on a cloudy day in spring.
Length: ~2300
Note: Written for Short Precarious Anecdote Month.


There are things we believe could never happen, not really: they look fine on paper and on screen, but there are a million reasons why they don't quite fit into life.

Like waking up one morning and knowing you're in love.

Totsuka has hung around Mikoto since they were brats, following him around, an unwavering presence. He accepted Mikoto's destiny with all the equanimity to balance against Mikoto's uneasiness.

Totsuka has never let him feel lonely. When even Kusanagi steps back, Totsuka is there; if Mikoto wants to be alone, Totsuka won't leave him. At first it annoys Mikoto, then he learns to grudgingly accept it, and at the end he understands what Totsuka has known all along: when Mikoto wants solitude is the worst time for him to be alone.

Because some nightmares are real. Some nightmares wait at the doors to your soul.

Mikoto dreams of a city in flames.

When he wakes on the HOMRA couch, blinking back terror, Totsuka's there, attaching wings to a model plane; the acrid stench of glue clings to the air like an oil film on water.

"You trying to get the whole block high?" Mikoto mutters. "Do that stuff at home, lunkhead."

"Did you have a bad dream, King?"

"Mind your own business."

"Your powers don't exist to destroy. They exist to protect." Totsuka tells him that again and again, and Mikoto believes him.

Mikoto only wants his clan safe from harm.

Mikoto's a King, for all the good it does him. He can't favour one of his own clan too much, or some shit like that. That kind of thing wouldn't matter if it were up to him alone, but Totsuka doesn't want him that way.

He enjoys trying new things, but some things are off the table to begin with.

Totsuka's girlfriend is called Kunieda, and they've been together since high school.

Mikoto meets Munakata on a cloudy day in spring, when the leaves in the parks still sleep inside buds and dream better dreams than Mikoto can ever imagine.

"Nice day for a walk in the park."

Mikoto takes a deep drag on his smoke and asks, without turning around, "Do I know you?" He's been aware of this man following him for a while.

"You really don't know who I am?"

Mikoto turns and beholds soft black hair, dark eyes like knives, thin smile full of venom and shadows, SCEPTER4 uniform over a powerful frame, sabre strapped near a slim hip that juts out towards him in a wordless challenge. Everything about this man is the polar opposite of Totsuka, yet Mikoto wants him. Lust at first sight.

Munakata Reisi. "You're the Blue King."

"You will become the Red."

Mikoto exhales smoke, carefully aiming aside from Munakata's face. "Don't tell me you're after an alliance."

Munakata laughs, and the sound of it thrums deep in Mikoto's groin. "Don't be silly, Suoh Mikoto. I've simply come to introduce myself to you."

"I'm not King yet. You could've had me brought to you for such a thing," Mikoto replies with an unbidden smile. "Why go to the trouble?"

"I saw a picture of you; you looked like my type."

Mikoto will be King; he knows he can no longer rise to obvious provocation. "Oh? Want me to strip so you can make sure?"

Munakata's tongue wets his top lip. "No need, thank you. I've seen enough."

It has been six generations since a King has seen fit to court another King, and no one wants the status quo toppled, so Munakata pursues him in secret. Mikoto resists: for all that he wants Munakata, he will not keep secrets from his clan, not for the sake of politics. Besides, his feelings for Totsuka remain unchanged, and every time he daydreams about Munakata's body joined with his, it feels like a betrayal.

A year of chance meetings, long glances, lingering touches. Munakata wears Mikoto down, layer by layer and chance by chance. He doesn't push, nor does he pull; he sets traps and waits for Mikoto to walk into them. Mikoto always does. He loves Totsuka, but Munakata sets him afire.

They can talk about the price of keeping secrets later.

The hotel's in a neutral zone. They have two hours before anyone will miss them.

Munakata's glasses go first. Up close, his eyes are softer than Mikoto expected. They throw him off balance, as do his gentle hands. Munakata's fingers brush against Mikoto's lips, and Mikoto kisses them, sucks them as Munakata buries his face in Mikoto's neck, his free arm tight around Mikoto's waist. He frees his wet fingers and starts to tug on Mikoto's shirt.

They shed their clothes with difficulty; neither wants to lose contact even for three seconds, and when Mikoto finally allows himself a step back to have a look at Munakata, he is enthralled. Some men use clothes to great effect to make themselves seem more desirable, and he suspected this of Munakata, but he couldn't have been wronger.

Mikoto touches his fingertips to Munakata's flat, hard chest, slides them down slow past his muscular belly and carefully pinches Munakata's foreskin over the head of his cock.

"It's not a toy," Munakata tells him, moving closer, forcing Mikoto's hand around his cock with his own fingers.

Mikoto pulls Munakata backwards, onto the bed, down on top of himself and wraps his legs around him, rocking softly upwards to rub his cock against heated skin. Munakata's eyes blaze fierce and honest, his icy composure a mere memory.

"Make me yours," Mikoto begs him, and Munakata does.

Only thirty minutes have passed.

Mikoto sits with his back to the wall, head thrown back, legs outstretched. Munakata lies prone, his arms around a pillow; he's facing Mikoto but his eyes are shut. He looks like a child cuddling a beloved toy.

Mikoto smooths his palm down the curve of Munakata's ass; his fingers grip the firm flesh and squeeze. Red Aura buzzes just out of his reach, and he likes it this way.

"You'll have your turn," Munakata murmurs with dark amusement, looking up at him.

Mikoto wasn't even thinking about that, but now that it's been promised, he wants it, wants to make Munakata feel the way he did earlier, when Munakata found his pleasure inside him with a cry of such bliss.

There are things we believe could never happen, not really: they look fine on paper and on screen, but there are a million reasons why they don't quite fit into life.

Like being intimate with someone you deeply desire and calling the name of another.

"Totsuka," Mikoto breathes as he pushes inside Munakata.

Munakata's reaction is marked by an absence of emotion. He forces Mikoto out, sits up, drapes a sheet across his lap, and calmly points to the door.

"Munakata--" Why did I do that? I wasn't even thinking about Totsuka.

"I've made it clear from the start that I will not share, Suoh."

"It's not what you think--"


To make himself feel better, Mikoto beats the shit out of some random two-bit thugs Kusanagi tells him are harassing a maid cafe under Homura's protection. Kusanagi will give him shit for getting involved personally, but Mikoto doesn't care.

When he gets back to the bar, he sits down, thinking of the fight, of the fire in him ebbing as unconscious bodies fell beneath his fists. It's the same as fucking, isn't it? He can quench it in a fight. He doesn't need Munakata's wicked eyes or his whispers.

"Tonight's dinner is tom yam goong," Totsuka tells him, peeking out from under a sheet on the couch across the floor.

Mikoto's startled to realise that Totsuka's dear, sweet face has a slightly looser hold on him all of a sudden.

Anna is looking at him with those wide eyes that see no colour, and Mikoto wonders if she knows what he was up to before the fight. A hell of a thing for an eight-year-old child to see in the head of a grown-ass dude, so he hopes she doesn't.

Later, he listens to Totsuka sing of the good old days and closes his eyes. Totsuka's voice is as lovely and the words as moving as yesterday, but everything has changed.

Munakata has crept into most of the places where Totsuka was before, but Mikoto didn't notice until now.

He gives Munakata a year to stop sulking. He understands, after all. If he were in Munakata's place, he'd be furious. But week after week, his phone messages go unanswered, his pointed glances unreturned. And the more Munakata rejects him, the deeper Mikoto falls.

Is it that he simply will always want what he can't have?

There's territory to expand, protection to extend, money to be made. His clan needs him; unlike Munakata, who has the entire government at his disposal, Mikoto doesn't have time to go after what he wants until he gets it.

So he gives up. No sense in beating his head against a wall, and he's no stranger to carrying the burden of unrequited feelings; he's had years of practice.

Two years after that, the world ends with a phone call from Kusanagi:

"I'm sorry, Mikoto. I have bad news."

It's the condolence card from Munakata that sets Mikoto on the warpath.

He's absolutely livid that Munakata doesn't seem to have even considered forgiving him. What would his underlings say if they knew their vaunted King was but a man as weak to petty jealousy as any other?

Oh, he can't help but smile, though, when they face off in the hotel, the same hotel where they once belonged to each other. He doesn't see Munakata often, but when he does, he always feels a thrill deep in his soul, for having seen those eyes unguarded and that gorgeous body soft and vulnerable.

Munakata doesn't return Mikoto's smile until his sabre's drawn. We are enemies, that smile says.

Mikoto sends a Red Aura volley in greeting; Munakata neutralises it with ease.

"I can handle this alone," he says to his SCEPTER4 retainers.

Mikoto watches him approach, so composed, so dispassionate, and thinks of the shape Munakata's mouth made when Mikoto first tasted his cock.

Munakata regards him coldly. "In accordance with Protocol 120, I'm taking you into custody. Objections?"

"As it happens, no." Mikoto stretches his hands out to him. "I'll be imposing on you, then."

Straw bed, thin pillow, shackles. Mikoto's never been one for creature comforts anyway. He sleeps, dreamless and alone, until he wakes to find his face pressed against the wall and Munakata's hand in his hair.

"Well, well, look who it is," Mikoto mutters, chasing away sleep.

"Let's get to the point." His voice so level, his face so calm, his eyes the very model of indifference. "Your Weismann level is about to hit the ceiling. If your Sword of Damocles falls, the Kagutsu crater will happen again." Munakata lets go of Mikoto's head and steps back. "If you insist on drawing more power from the Dresden Slates, I'll have to kill you."

"No clue what you're talking about," Mikoto says, looking up at him. Was it his imagination or did Munakata's fingers close in his hair for a brief instant, the same way they did when Mikoto was about to slide into him all those years ago?

Munakata slapst the wall above Mikoto's head, leans closer so their faces are level. "Renounce your throne."

Mikoto gazes steadily at Munakata's face, struck by a sudden realisation. Could that be what he wanted all along? Did he just feign an interest so he could undermine my position, but the plan didn't include me having feelings for somebody else? "What a boring guy."

Munakata straightens up with a look of distaste. "In that case I'll have to come up with a way to lock you up for life." He adjusts his glasses.

Mikoto looks up at him with a smile. "There's one way to keep me locked up forever. You, the Blue King, could keep an eye on me personally, Munakata. Twenty-four hours a day, inside this cell." He reaches for Red Aura and finds it, sighing softly as it engulfs him. "And if I get out of hand, you could use force to restrain me." He narrows his eyes slightly, gratified by Munakata's smile. He would love that, oh, how he would. No, maybe there was something there. Maybe he didn't just come after me to take my throne.

"I don't even want to think about breathing the same air as you," Munakata says. "It makes me sick to my stomach." He turns his back to Mikoto, sabre clinking against its sheath. "Besides, I'm very busy. I can't spend all my time with you."

Mikoto stares at his back. "I'm sorry to hear that, Munakata."

The worst of his nature wants to set this entire city to burn once he can get his own clan to safety. Let it burn. Take Munakata away from his duty, from his throne. Without this King business, Totsuka would never have taken an interest in Mikoto. Without it, Mikoto and Munakata would just be a couple of guys.

Munakata heads for the door, cell keys ringing in his hand. Mikoto turns away to face the wall, ashamed for his moment's weakness.

"I'm sorry too, Suoh."

The door slams shut.

Mikoto's heart thumps wildly. Did he hear that right? Did this mean Munakata wanted to spend all his time with Mikoto? Did he regret the years apart? Could they still make it work somehow?

There are things we believe could never happen, not really: they look fine on paper and on screen, but there are a million reasons why they don't quite fit into life.

Like falling in love with an enemy.

Mikoto dreams of a city in ruins.

Tags: fic:character:[k]:mikoto, fic:fandom:[k], fic:genre:angst, fic:genre:romance, fic:length:short, fic:pairing:suoh/munakata, fic:pairing:suoh/totsuka, fic:pov:mikoto, fic:type:slash

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