Business as Usual, XXII
by Laura Bryannan

Jin always felt that facing his crew Wednesday morning was worse than the attack itself. He'd heard them teasing someone as he came up the stairs.

“You houndog! Was she hot?”

“They were hot,” Yuki's voice corrected them.

“They?!? You lucky bastard!” Jin smiled, not the least bit surprised. Yuki always knew how to make friends and influence people.

He walked into the room and someone called out, “Hey boss, check out the hickey on Yuki's....”

The lurid cut on his neck and his bruised face insured all conversation would stop. At first there was stunned silence, but then the chorus of concern and anger arose, singing a miserable, discordant song. A few of the younger ones were crying and he was forced to calm, cajole and finally threaten before the pandemonium subsided and everyone could get back to work. It was awful.

Ironically, Jin had come to some small amount of peace about his hair that morning, but after the barrage of, “Oh god, your hair!” “That really sucks!” and “Damn, how could they do that?” he was once again convinced his finest feature had been destroyed forever. He hid in his office for most of the day, avoiding all the sad faces, weary of comforting others when he felt in need of comfort himself.

Being the center of such attention made Jin feel embarrassed, humiliated and certain that if he heard the words, “I'm sorry,” one more time, he would tear out the rest of his hair and happily commit seppuku. His heart sank when he saw Mugen waiting for him after work, for he knew if his lover offered him one ounce of sympathy he was going to lose it and never get it back.

“Your hair ain't what makes you hot, stupidass.”

Mugen's comment was so blessedly unexpected and his kisses so disarming, Jin was shocked out of his funk. A few insults later and he actually began to feel like himself again for the first time in two days. It was wonderful. He let himself be swept away, barely aware of how they got inside, his focus only on the tongue in his mouth and the hand down his jeans, freeing him and ummmmmm.

Mugen broke their kiss to nibble on his neck, sending glorious shivers over his skin, and he was tilting his head to give more access when Mugen suddenly pulled back. “Shit, you got more cuts under there?” he asked, rhetorically, for Jin looked down to see a few lines of blood staining his t-shirt. Mugen pushed it up, not waiting for a response, moaning at the view. Then he sighed and leaned down to gently kiss the large cutting above Jin's left nipple.

“So, Yuan got you too, huh?” he finally ventured.

“He was hooded, I don't know.”

“Black enamel blade with silver and abalone detailing?”

“Yes.”

Mugen gestured to his right hip and Jin understood. There were three not-random scars there, long lines that disappeared into his pubic hair, two on his belly and the other on his upper thigh. Mugen told him he'd been marked during his “intervention,” and Jin had always assumed those were the scars he was talking about, but this new information put a different light on the situation—a morbidly romantic one, Jin shuddered to realize—being that they were now marked by the same man.

“He's the one who cut me,” Mugen said, confirming his speculations. “I guess it goes without saying he's a sick fucker.”

Jin smiled ruefully. “They were trying to torture information out of me.”

“Torture?”

“Some fool took a few of their guys down,” Jin explained, chuckling a little, “and they were sure it was me, as they'd already put Yuki in the hospital.”

Mugen stared, eyes wide, a look of horror at the edges. “Oh.”

“There's only a few on my staff who could pull such a thing off,” Jin continued, “but we've always had a policy of no retaliation, so I doubt it was anyone from my crew. I suppose I should feel flattered to be accused, but there's no reason to lay this at my feet when it could have been anyone. It was just an excuse, of course.”

Mugen's face was positively green. “Damn!”

“What's wrong?” The unhappy man backed away, looking sick and apprehensive, until he was against the opposite foyer wall. Jin couldn't understand, his heart clenching, when Mugen finally took a deep breath and spoke.

“It was me,” he admitted. “I found out from Kohza who beat Yuki up and took 'em out last week.”

“You!?!”

“Yeah, man, I'm really sor....”

Jin lept forward, quickly thrusting a hand over his mouth. “Don't say it!” he ordered. “I've heard it all day and I swear I'll scream if you say it too.”

Mugen's anguished face and his, “But....” assured his mouth was covered again.

Jin was smiling now, looking intently into his lover's eyes. “I'm touched you were moved to help Yuki. And I almost laughed when Shiren told me, even in the middle of it all, so I'm very grateful for that as well.”

Jin took his hand away and Mugen promptly leaned forward, growling, nuzzling into his neck. Jin stroked the springy, surprisingly soft hair and continued, “But you must never do it again. They harass us enough as it is, and retaliation only gives them an excuse to amp up the violence. So far they've only attacked the adults, but I've got children in my crew. If they should ever go after one of the kids.... Promise me, Mugen.”

“Promise,” came the muffled voice.

When Mugen remained deflated, moving their situation perilously close to the one Jin faced at work all day, he decided some of the doctor's own medicine was in order. “So how long are you going to let me stand here with my junk hanging out?” he teased. “The deal you pitched was sweet, Ryu-san, but your skills at closing are the worst I've ever encountered. However did you manage to earn all that money you have?”

Mugen lifted his head, eying him skeptically. “You trying to start something with me?”

“No, encouraging you to finish something.”

He harrumphed, smiling grimly, then eyed Jin's chest again. “You know, once it's healed you could ink anything over it and no one could tell.”

“I've considered that.”

“Hell, if you connect the loose ends, you could make a pinwheel.”

Jin got very still, then pushed him away and strode to the bathroom, zipping up and losing his t-shirt along the way. Peering at himself in the mirror, he laughed out loud. Mugen was right and the brainstorm ignited. A pinwheel! She collected them, which was the main reason the idea was appealing, however awkward it would be to explain to her later. But he had to do it.

“A pinwheel,” Jin mused to his gaping lover, “you're brilliant!” Laughing again, he left to forage in the front room, then returned and presented Mugen with the tanto from The Daisho. Ignoring his stupefied expression, Jin demanded, “Cut it!”

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“You really want me to cut you?”

“Yes.”

Mugen looked into his lover's slightly crazed eyes and stalled. This turn of events presented an opportunity not to be missed and, if he did his job right—which he fully intended to do—Jin would be too out of it to make him live up to his promise tonight. Taking the knife away, he gestured with it. “This ain't what I planned to stick you with, but I'll do it...after.”

“You planned on sticking me?”

“Well, to be honest I figured I'd be taking it tonight, but not now, pretty boy.”

“Hmmm.”

“You want me to cut you, I get to call the shots before.”

“Cut me first, I don't want to wait.”

“Do it yourself if you're that impatient.”

Jin sighed. “I doubt I could get more than the first few lines straight. My hand would be shaking too much. Please do it, Mugen.”

“No way!” He set the knife down on the sink and gathered Jin up, fucking his mouth with his tongue, demanding that the unreasonable body in his arms bend to his will. When it was finally melted and moaning, he laid it on the line, “I ain't waited three days to be with you to do that kinda shit now. I don't wanna hurt you....heh, not like that anyway. If I'm gonna do it, you gotta wait. Deal?”

Jin narrowed his eyes, clearly debating. “All right,” he finally agreed.

Mugen suddenly noticed he was still in his suit and tie while Jin wore only jeans and was struck by an inspiration. “Drop your pants,” he ordered.

Jin's eyes widened, the harsh bathroom light instantly revealing the pink bloom that began on his cheeks and spread to his chest. Mugen held his breath, unsure he would obey, when the black jeans were finally lowered and the beautiful, pale form was exposed to his view. He drank in the sight while Jin stood with eyes cast downward, gooseflesh rippling over his skin, breathing faster than normal. The feast presented to him looked delicious and he was starving for it, no doubt, but anticipation whet his appetite even more. Having no idea when Jin would be in this position again, he intended to take every advantage of it.

Leaning against the sink, Mugen gestured toward the bulge in his slacks. “Suck.”

Jin sank gracefully to his knees, brought him out and began. He was too good to let him work for long, but Mugen intended to enjoy it as much as possible. When the first orgasmic twinge reared its head, he announced, “Balls too,” leaning back further to give access. Jin pulled a sensitive sac into his mouth and swirled his tongue in the most tantalizing way before giving the other the same loving attention.

“No drooling on my new suit.”

Jin's growl and a bit of teeth told him he was pushing it, and Mugen couldn't help laughing. Carding his fingers into the loose hair, which he decided he liked a lot, he pulled his lover standing. His scent was on Jin's face and he could taste himself as they kissed, making him all the more hungry to get his mouth on the candy Jin had to offer. Gently pushing the handsome man away, he headed toward the bedroom. “Come on.”

Jin followed, obediently laying down as Mugen remained standing next to the bed. He removed his tie but nothing else, taking careful survey of the damage that looked so horribly wrong on the perfect, marble white body. The two knife wounds and the cutting made sense, as did the black eye and the discolored jaw, but there were large bruises on Jin's right shoulder and hip that needed explaining.

“I was on my knees,” Jin told him, “hands bound behind my back, held up by my hair. When it was cut I fell forward and hit there first.”

Mugen nodded, then steeled himself to raise the question that had been plaguing him all day, the one he hadn't wanted to ask until they were face to face and he could watch Jin's response. “They rape you?”

“No.”

Mugen felt such relief he almost laughed again, for he could tell Jin wasn't lying. “Good. I was worried.” Thus freed of his fears, he knelt at the foot of the bed and contemplated his meal, so hungry it was hard to know where to begin. “I think I'm gonna start at your toes and work my way up,” he declared, and did just that, sucking each one carefully, thoroughly, relishing his lover's purrs and moans.

The trail of hickeys he made on his way north left Jin whimpering, but he knew he'd be singing a different song soon enough. Tipping the narrow hips toward the ceiling, he tasted long and deep, chuckling as Jin cried out. By the time he raised his head, Jin was radiating life—opalescent skin flushed, practically glowing.

His hair was splayed around his head, making him look so different Mugen couldn't stop staring. Even when he'd worn it down, it was so long, the lines remained sharp and severe. Mugen would never say it to his face, but he thought Jin's unplanned haircut was soft, flattering, making him appear more vulnerable and feminine, and it surprised him how much of a turn-on it was.

His aching lower half brought him out of his reverie, reminding him that patience was not his strong suit. “Hey,” he said, needing to read the emotional state behind his lover's dark eyes. Jin turned to him, focusing slowly. “Look at me,” Mugen ordered as his tongue snaked out, encircling the responsive entrance.

Jin gasped, shuddering, as his eyes closed once again. “I can't.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know,” Jin replied, smiling dreamily. “It feels too good and my eyes shut by themselves.”

Mugen smiled back, appreciating the view, then got serious. “You ready to get laid, pretty boy?”

The smoky glance made his breath catch. “Yes. Please.”

Jin's belly was swimming in pre-cum, so Mugen scooped up a handful and prepared them both, knowing he wasn't going to last long enough to need anything more official. He sank into the willing body, groaning in bliss, but received a chuckle rather than a moan in response. “Why are you still in your suit?” Jin asked, looking bemused. “There's lots worse than drool on it now.”

“Dunno why,” he replied honestly. It had seemed important for some reason, so he'd done it without thinking. “That's what dry cleaners are for, huh?”

Mugen began to move and Jin opened to him completely, wrapping his legs around his hips to pull him closer, sighing as he seated himself fully. It felt as though time were suspended, the pleasure swirling around and through them, and he hovered there, motionless, letting it send his spirit skyward.

“Why are you so good to me?” a deep voice whispered, startling him.

Mugen needed to think about it for a moment. “Cuz you're mine,” he decided.

Jin grabbed a hunk of spiky hair, pulling him into a kiss even as he shifted his hips and took him deep, sending Mugen's senses reeling. Holding back became impossible. The ancient ritual overtook them both, wet and hard, blistering honey sweet. Mugen fed himself into his lover's fevered body, amazed at the hungry acceptance he found there. He'd waited so long and needed it so bad, there was no denying his feelings, and maybe his heart had always known it. He was home.

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Jin awoke, realizing he and Mugen must have passed out ten seconds after they both came. His lover's weight felt pleasant, and he was amazed he didn't feel trapped or have any desire to escape. Memories of the evening flooded back in a rush. The suit! Mugen was still wearing it. Jin didn't know the make, but it had to be expensive for the navy wool was soft as cashmere and custom-tailored to fit like a second skin. It had reduced him to a quivering puddle of uke earlier and it was waking him up now.

Mugen had used it so naturally, somehow knowing the effect it would have on him standing there completely, literally naked in the face of its power. He'd never felt more embarrassed, his mind screaming to disobey Mugen's imperious commands, and yet he'd never been harder or more aroused in his life. He'd made light of it at the end to cover his ass, but the way Mugen had topped him so perfectly, seemingly without effort, affected him profoundly. Face hot, hips squirming of their own accord, the memories were affecting him again.

Unfortunately, upon moving he discovered his entire right leg was asleep and his unhappy stomach began growling and churning. Glancing at the clock to see it was almost nine, he decided there were things to do. Carefully extricating himself from underneath his snoring lover, Jin limped out to the living room, ordered dinner and took a shower.

He was in front of the mirror staring at himself, debating the cutting and doubting his sanity, when Mugen walked in, finally naked. “Need a shower, K?” he asked groggily, not waiting for a response before stepping inside the stall. Exiting a short while later, eyes now alert, he stood behind the still-pondering Jin. “A swastika is kinda cool. Very hard core. Maybe you should leave it be.”

“The symbol is older than the Nazi regime, but I cannot abide it,” Jin stated firmly. “The philosophy is completely alien to me.”

“But a pinwheel?” Mugen looked doubtful. “I was joking when I said it, you know. It must mean something. What?”

Jin sighed. It was not a truth Mugen would understand, nor did he, fully. It simply had to be done, as much as he balked at the unreasonableness of the impulse. “It does mean something, but I wouldn't know how to explain it,” he offered lamely.

Mugen's suggestion seemed wondrously correct, almost like a blessing or an omen, and since Jin would never have thought of it himself he was very grateful. There was no doubt in his mind that Fuu's symbol, not the Nakasone gang's, belonged over his heart. But how to say such a thing? Mugen would not be pleased to learn why he wanted this.

Literally saved by the bell, the intercom buzzed and Jin lept to answer, announcing, “Dinner!” along the way.

Relieved his lover was apparently hungry enough to let his secret lie for the moment, they ate with little conversation, Mugen asking to watch JNN. “Gotta know what's going on out there to keep my hunches good,” he explained.

By the time they finished eating, Jin was certain. A tattoo over the cutting would not completely hide it, the swastika scar would still be visible if one looked closely. He wanted the swastika gone. Tonight. If he decided to ink over the mark later, he would be covering a pinwheel, not...that.

Finally—Jin could never figure out where all the food went—Mugen set his chopsticks down and nodded to him. “OK, let's go.”

They entered the bathroom and Jin pulled a shoebox out from under the sink full of bandaids, medical tape and sterile gauze for larger wounds. Grabbing one of his navy towels, he said, “I'll sop up with this first and bandage after.”

Mugen took him by the shoulders, eying the mark critically. “Yuan cut it pretty clean,” he observed. “I think I can do it in two strokes. X through the middle. You better keep your back against the wall, though. Don't want you moving on me.”

“I won't move,” Jin assured him, but he leaned back and braced his legs anyway.

Mugen wiped his hands on the towel, picked up the tanto and took a deep breath, giving him a look that penetrated his heart. “You really want this?”

Jin nodded, unsure of his voice when the wolf in Mugen's eyes was so disturbingly obvious. It was clear the predator desired him, hungered for his flesh and blood. He shuddered, amazed at the intensity of his erection, and had to close his eyes and turn his head aside before he could whisper, “Yes.”

He barely had time to anticipate it when the first cut was accomplished. Mugen demanded, “Towel!” and Jin pressed it to the wound, exhilarated they were half done and it hadn't hurt too badly. “OK,” Mugen announced, eying him with a certain wicked glee that made his heart lurch. “Let's go before I lose my nerve. Move the towel when you're ready and I'll do it.”

Jin breathed a few moments, stilling himself, then lowered his hands. There was more pain but he was glad. It was done! He pressed the towel firmly to dull the sting and opened his eyes to find Mugen grinning. “Shit that was hot!” he enthused. “I can't believe how hard I am. Does that make me some kinda sicko?”

“I hope not, I'm hard too.” Jin reached for him, kissing the chuckling form, who soon pushed back to do something shocking. Pulling the towel away from the wounds, he licked there, lapping at the blood still seeping slowly. Jin shuddered, revolted, and yet the pain of the rough caresses was disturbingly erotic. “My god, Mugen, what are you doing?”

His lover raised his head, mouth crimson, kissing him deeply. The powerful tongue slick with the copper taste of his own life force sent a message to Jin's guts, bones, his very cells. When Mugen finally released him, his glance was piercing. “Maybe this means something I don't know about, but you better remember who gave it to you, pretty boy.”

The feral eyes were almost too much for Jin to bear, especially in light of the visceral connection between them, making him feel giddy and mushed out. “I'll remember,” he promised.

Taking charge, as Jin's brain had clearly stopped functioning, Mugen stuck the gauze on the new cuts and taped it in place. Noting the dilated eyes and blushing face, he snorted. “Man, you're gonna have a major endorphin buzz going. No fair.”

Jin was giggling. “Jealous?”

“Yeah,” Mugen decided. He picked up the tanto and put it in Jin's hand. “Cut one on me now.”

to be continued