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Give A Dog A Bone

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Rikiya sighed longingly, pressed up against Kiryu’s arm in the elevator. Kiryu glanced down at him and tried to shake him off. “Would you stop that?” he grunted. 

“Oh, sorry, Aniki!” Rikiya released him reluctantly and stepped away. Kiryu caught the admonished look in Rikiya’s eye and sighed, preparing to explain that it wasn’t a dislike of Rikiya that made Kiryu push him away, but rath- 

Halfway through that thought, a knife plunged between the elevator doors, just as they were closing, bringing Kiryu up short. Adrenaline shot through his system at the sign of danger, but as he got a better look at the knife, the color drained from Kiryu’s face. Ohhh no, no no no, no no. Oh no. 

“A-Aniki?” Rikiya asked anxiously, edging a little closer to him and glancing at the glinting blade with its black, lacquered handle, “What’s…”

Rikiya trailed off as the doors began to open with a muted squeak and slowly pushed apart to reveal a black leather-gloved hand, a snakeskin sleeve, a snarling face. Kiryu swallowed, mouth entirely dry. 

“Sir, sir!” the receptionist was calling out from under her privacy barrier, “You can’t go in there! Only couples in this hotel!” 

The owner of the knife stared hard at Kiryu and Kiryu swallowed again, staring back. 

“Kiryu-aniki?” Rikiya tried again, “What’s, uh, what’s going on?” 

The doors began to shut again and Kiryu instinctively hit the remain open button. Fuck. Shit. 

“Sir, if you will not leave, I will have to call the authorities!” the receptionist shouted, her hand on the phone. 

Majima straightened up and one eyebrow lifted slightly, but in all other respects, his glaring visage did not change expression for an instant. 

Kiryu swallowed for a third time and coughed, finally speaking, “It’s okay, he’s with us,” he called back, his eyes never leaving Majima’s. 

“Oh!” the receptionist blinked, her hand leaving the phone, “Well, you might have said. You could have waited out here for him to arrive rather than make him feel like he was late for all the fun.” She snickered gently and sat back down. Majima’s face twitched; Kiryu grimaced. 

“He… is?” Rikiya asked, staring up at Kiryu, then blinking at Majima. 

Kiryu opened his mouth and both of Majima’s eyebrows rose. Kiryu’s mouth snapped shut again. Oh God, where to begin, where to even start. 

“Uh, well, you better get in here, sir,” Rikiya interjected, stepping in closer to Kiryu to make room for Majima. 

Majima’s black gaze snapped to Rikiya for the first time and Kiryu could actually feel Rikiya tremble next to him. Majima was going to terrify the poor kid to death in a minute. Kiryu tried to think of how to intercede without getting someone stabbed, but Rikiya spoke up first. 

“Uh, actually, I’ll just uh, stand over here,” he squeaked, shuffling away to stand in the opposite corner, “I liked this corner better anyway.” He grinned, trying to keep his nerves up. 

Majima continued to glare at him, but stepped into the vacated space, just a hair closer to Kiryu than he was Rikiya, but it was enough to bring the tension in their small space to a 91 out of 10. Kiryu could feel every hair on his arm closest to Majima prickle. Shit. Kiryu rubbed his arm self-consciously. The last thing he needed right now was to get distracted. 

Majima stayed absolutely still, eye forward as the doors finally closed, sealing their threesome in with all the awkwardness they brought with them. 

“So, uh,” Rikiya tried again and Kiryu groaned inwardly, wishing he had some way of telling the kid that continuing to talk was only going to make this worse. But Majima was doing most of that job for him, whipping around and glaring him down. Rikiya yelped, flinching back, but squeaked out, “H-How d’you two know each other?” 

And on that question, Majima turned to Kiryu with a terrible knowing look in his eye and his knife hand somehow much closer than it was a second ago. Kiryu looked down at the tip of the knife, then up at Majima’s waiting face. “We’re… colleagues,” he answered, watching Majima’s eye widen in disbelief, his mouth still tightly closed. 

Rikiya leaned over and blinked hesitantly at Kiryu before leaning back. “Oh,” he replied, bouncing a little on his heels. He cleared his throat. “I… see?” 

Majima took no notice of Rikiya’s disbelief and stepped in close to Kiryu, crowding him into the back corner, his lip curled and his knife pointed at Kiryu’s throat. Kiryu let himself be backed up, eyes on Majima’s. 

“H-Hey, hey!” Rikiya started, stepping forward with a hand out, “You can’t just-” 

“It’s alright, Rikiya,” Kiryu assured him before Majima could turn the knife to him. 

Majima raised an eyebrow and pressed the knife tight to Kiryu’s throat, his gaze flicking from the warm skin against his blade to Kiryu’s impassive face. Kiryu could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his neck where Majima had the knife and it was upsetting that he’d missed this just a little too much. His breathing felt labored as he kept his eyes on Majima’s, remembering well all the expressions that dark eye could make. He tried to shove down the strange well of nostalgia opening up inside, as well as something more heated than lukewarm nostalgia. 

Majima licked his lips slowly and finally, just a hint of a smile there, the faintest curve of his mouth, like he was thinking the exact same thing. Kiryu tried not to smile back, tried not to answer, biting the inside of his lip to avoid it. 

“Uhhhh…” Rikiya cleared his throat loudly and Kiryu shook himself, realizing he was losing focus. Majima snapped himself out of it with a single blink, his knife cold and sharp, his glare likewise. 

“We’re-” Kiryu began again and Majima pressed the point of his blade in until Kiryu felt pain. Kiryu hissed and squirmed, frowning at Majima. “Majima,” he whispered plaintively. 

Majima’s eye widened, his free hand tightening into a fist and slamming into the wall next to Kiryu. 

“I’m sorry,” Kiryu begged, “Just let me explain.” 

Rikiya, for once, stayed silent. Majima’s lip curled and Kiryu could see his fingers tightening and untightening next to him, trying to decide. Eventually the pressure on his neck let up and Kiryu sighed. He smiled in gratitude, but Majima just scowled. Kiryu expected no less. 

“We’re here looking for Kanda,” Kiryu began, explaining entirely to Majima now, “We interrogated his men and they told us he was here. I didn’t know…” Majima raised an eyebrow and Kiryu knew he was going to make him say it. “I didn’t know what kind of hotel this was,” he insisted. 

Majima snorted but his glare was softening. 

“You heard the receptionist, you only get let in if you’re a couple, so…” Kiryu’s face squirmed and he shrugged helplessly, “There wasn’t time to-” 

Majima’s eye flashed and in a quick movement, Kiryu’s shirt was sliced open and Majima’s knife fist had slammed into the opposite wall. Majima snarled at him.

Rikiya gasped, hearing the buttons clatter to the floor and looked up at Kiryu. “Aniki!” 

Kiryu sighed heavily, knowing there wasn’t a drop of blood on his skin. “Yeah, I should’ve… I should’ve called first,” he muttered, looking to the floor, “I… that was rude of me. I should’ve called you.” He glanced up at Majima hesitantly. 

Majima’s jaw worked, trying to remain intimidating while clearly wanting to pout. 

Kiryu reached out and gently put his hand over Majima’s knife hand. He watched Majima swallow, his eye on Kiryu’s hand. “I should’ve told you I was coming,” he repeated softly, “I’m sorry.” 

Majima glanced up at him and there, right there, at the edge of his expression, Kiryu could read the forgiveness, the longing, the softness Majima couldn’t keep back any longer- 

“So what is your relationship again?” Rikiya butted in, staring at the bizarre hand-holding before him. 

Majima twisted away, all that softness instantly evaporated in favor of a fierce, mean leer and the point of his knife in Rikiya’s face, making the smaller man back up again. 

Kiryu groaned. “Don’t, please, Majima,” he sighed, “I told him not to come, I told him a dozen times.” He shook his head. 

Majima turned his head over his shoulder and widened his eye meaningfully at Kiryu. 

“Okay, yes, I should’ve expected this,” he shrugged, sighing, “but I couldn’t send him home after he came here after me,” Kiryu argued, folding his arms. 

Rikiya blinked rapidly between them. “I am still here, y’know,” he put in. 

Majima glanced at Rikiya long enough to bare his teeth, then straightened up to turn to Kiryu properly, a question in his eye. 

Kiryu groaned as the doors dinged behind him. He wished he didn’t have to answer this question, but he knew if he answered right, it would be the last one. “His name’s Rikiya,” he said, resigned, “he’s a friend.” 

Majima’s gaze sharpened and he turned back to Rikiya, lifting him and pinning him to the wall hard. Rikiya gulped, but looked death in the eye, his fists clenched but useless at his sides. 

Kiryu shook his head and stepped in close to Majima, close enough to see the hairs on the back of his neck move as he bent to his ear to whisper, “I’ve missed you, Majima-onii-san… I’ve missed you very much.” He swallowed hard, hoping Rikiya hadn’t heard that or saw his cheeks heating. 

Majima’s beady eye glanced sharply at Kiryu, taking him in, before slowly setting Rikiya down and, finally, sheathing his knife. Kiryu allowed himself a small exhale of relief before Majima whirled around, beaming smile on his face. 

“Well, that’s different then, Kiryu-chan,” Majima grinned. 

Kiryu’s lips automatically quirked up as well before he could stop himself. “It’s good to see you, Majima-onii-san,” Kiryu sighed. 

“Likewise, Kiryu-chan,” Majima purred, trotting off the elevator and peering around, “So, this is our stop? Ya looking for Kanda ya said?” 

Kiryu nodded. “Mmhmm, we have reason to believe he might know where Daigo is, or was related to the attack on him,” he explained while trying to straighten his ruined shirt and debating just taking it off early. He suspected tonight was going to be one of those nights.

“Mmm,” Majima nodded too, still watching the corridors, “Well, I’ll do some scouting for ya, let ya know what the old Mad Dog nose finds.” And with a wink he was off. 

Kiryu turned to Rikiya, glad to see he looked dumbstruck but like he had himself together. “You alright?” Kiryu asked, just in case. 

“Yeah… yeah,” Rikiya shook himself, looking up at Kiryu, “So… who was that guy?” He blinked. 

“Majima Goro, patriarch of the Majima family,” Kiryu answered, deciding to just take off his jacket and shirt, “The Mad Dog of Shimano they used to call him. Guess they still do…” 

Rikiya’s eyes widened and he stared down the corridor after him. “But you’re… friends?” 

“Something like that,” Kiryu muttered, focusing hard on folding up his shirt. 

“Phew, what a relief!” Rikiya grinned, “For a second there, I thought I was in danger.” 

Kiryu stopped and looked at him. “You were,” he confirmed. 

Rikiya’s face dropped. “But you said-!” 

Kiryu’s mouth twitched. “Yeah, well, he is a Mad Dog, after all.” You just had to know how to scratch him behind the ear.