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The moment the autopilot engaged, Daisuke left his seat, nudging past Haru. He touched the black bands on his wrists and the bodysuit flashed in the rippling, deep blue color Haru had seen earlier, before melting away and leaving him in his tattered clothing once more. Haru had assumed they were heading off in a straight pursuit of the senior Kambe, only for Daisuke to direct their route back to the sinking cargo ship. The question of why had been met with the simple response of “Clean up” and no explanation beyond that.
Daisuke opened a suitcase situated behind the second row of seats, stripping off his tie, vest and shirt and tossing each to the side. Haru pushed himself up in his seat, enough to catch a glimpse of the contents of the suitcase just as Daisuke kicked off his trousers and stepped into a new pair. Suzue had sent him another suit, because of course she had, as if his appearance was where their priorities were.
Haru discarded his headset, leaving his seat to stop Daisuke before he put his right arm through the sleeve of the pressed, clean shirt. “Hold up. You’re bleeding again.” Specks of bright red had seeped through the makeshift bandage Haru had tied earlier. “Let me redo it.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I’m not asking,” Haru replied. It took him less than a minute to locate the med-kit, finding a proper bandage dressing and gauze inside. When he unwrapped the fabric tied around Daisuke’s bicep, he was relieved that no blood ran from the wound. A few droplets oozed, squeezing out between the barely closed cut, but Haru was able to clean them away quickly with the alcohol wipes from the kit. From the corner of his eye, he saw Daisuke wince, but gave no indication that he had noticed.
With the fresh bandaging tied more securely around Daisuke’s arm, Haru stepped back to let him finish getting the shirt on. The cut on his arm might have been the most obvious damage, but there was evidence of a struggle all over Daisuke’s body. The length of his right forearm had the light, glossy sheen of first-degree burns from that vortex gun the foreign goon had used. There were scrapes along his jaw and cheekbone and the initial hint of a large bruise was forming across his abdomen.
Haru had not missed the fact that Daisuke’s steps had become uneven the moment the ASV was no longer supporting his body. “Hey, uhhh… are you gonna be okay to go after him? It got pretty rough back there. You took that laser and the explosion…”
“The ASV protected me,” Daisuke answered, doing up the buttons of his shirt. “I barely felt a thing.”
“Yeah, but before that—”
“Suzue is tracking my father’s location. If we let him get away now, we might not get another opportunity,” Daisuke reasoned, slipping a belt through the loops of his pants and securing it in place. “As soon as she locates him, I’m going after him. If you don’t like it, I can easily rescind my invitation to bring you along.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Then show your concern for my well-being by helping me resolve this quickly,” Daisuke snapped. He reached into the suitcase, snatching up a small, bright orange plastic bottle with English script stickered over the side and cracking open the cap.
Haru grabbed his wrist, stopping him from pouring pills into the palm of his hand. “Kambe,” he growled in warning. He recognized the look of the bottle—they had plenty of them stored in evidence, pulled from foreigners who claimed they didn’t know better and the low-lifes who bought from them.
Daisuke scoffed, breaking free of Haru’s grip. “They’re painkillers. Don’t worry, inspector. I wouldn’t take anything you’d disapprove of while on the clock.”
“Are they legal?" Haru hissed, squinting in suspicion at the label that he had no hopes of reading. “In this country?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
No. No, he didn’t. He preferred to maintain plausible deniability, even though Daisuke hardly ever extended him the privilege. “There are pain meds in the kit.”
“These are more effective.”
He had no doubt about that. However, Daisuke was still playing with the law as if it did not apply to him and Haru was still letting him.
Huffing out his disapproval as Daisuke dry-swallowed the pills, Haru ripped open another alcohol wipe and took hold of his partner’s face, cleaning off the grime and the scratches on his skin. If Daisuke was worried about being presentable, Haru might as well help him complete his polished look. As soon as Haru was done, Daisuke wrenched away from his touch.
Clicking his tongue in irritation, Haru muttered, “You could at least say thank you…”
“Are you continuing to insist on that?” Daisuke said, shrugging on his vest. “Saving your life wasn’t enough?”
“You’re the reason it was in danger in the first place.”
In place of a retort, Haru received a smirk as Daisuke finished buttoning the front of his vest and tugged the material into place. “Then, how about I show you instead?”
Before Haru could question his words, fingers wound around the singed fabric of his tie and yanked him in.
By now, Haru should have been used to the feel of Daisuke’s mouth against his own. It was always warm, plump, and unforgiving. He kissed with the drive of a parched man glimpsing an oasis, drinking the frustrated, relenting groan that poured from Haru’s tongue. His fingers stayed wrapped around Haru’s tie, holding it like a leash as his other hand pressed into Haru’s chest and pushed him back until the backs of Haru’s knees hit a seat. He fell onto it without a hint of grace, flinching as he hit the hard leather.
Daisuke was on him again before Haru could suck down a proper breath, one of his knees up on the seat, pinning Haru in place. His figure loomed over Haru as he sought another demanding kiss, hands slipping down the front of Haru’s shirt and purposefully snagging on the buttons until he hooked his fingers into Haru’s belt.
Haru choked on air, jerking back. “Here? You wanna do that here? In a fucking helicopter?”
Daisuke smirked, responding with a half shrug that was far too casual for what he was proposing. “I do not intend for us to get so rough that we crash it. We are still waiting on the location information from Suzue and some endorphins can help ease my pain until the medication kicks in. You were concerned about me, inspector. Weren’t you?”
Haru did not know what he hated more. The fact that Daisuke kept luring him in like this, or the fact that he continued to let him. “As long as you don’t kill us.”
“Where would be the fun in that?”
While Haru liked to assume he was getting better at understanding his partner, his guess for what Daisuke intended and what Daisuke actually did didn’t match up in the least. Haru was stripped of his pants and boxers, and he bit back a yelp of surprise when Daisuke sharply tugged him down the seat. His hips were perched on the edge, Haru needing to grip the sides of it to keep himself stable as Daisuke knelt in front of him, throwing Haru’s legs over his shoulders.
Whatever Haru had expected, it was not for Daisuke to slide a hand under him to support the small of his back, raising his hips enough for Daisuke to bury his face between the globes of Haru’s ass. The first lap of Daisuke's tongue over his entrance sent a shock up the length of Haru’s back, the sensation prickling through his scalp. Gasping, Haru clutched a fistful of Daisuke’s dark hair, keeping himself from falling off the chair as his body spasmed. “R-really?! That’s what you’re after right now?!”
The last time Haru had had Daisuke’s face between his thighs, he had been more in control of the situation. Now, the smirk on Daisuke’s lips was close to predatory, stirring heat in the pit of Haru’s stomach. “I wanted to show you how to do this properly.”
Haru breathed out a swear, his cheeks burning at the memory of his accidental face plant aboard the ship. The momentary embarrassment was wiped away by Daisuke’s tongue, the next long, flat swipe of it sending him reeling.
Covering his mouth with his own hand, Haru muted a mewl as Daisuke licked hard over his perineum, slipping his tongue past the ring of Haru’s fluttering hole in a clear and shameless attempt to milk noises out of him. He did not want to count on the microphones of their discarded headsets being too far away to broadcast what Daisuke was doing to him.
“I thought you wanted me to get you off,” Haru hissed through gritted teeth, rocking his hips up and parting his lips in a silent moan as Daisuke ate him out. His teeth skimmed the sensitive skin between Haru’s groin and upper thigh and, when Haru shivered in response, they dug in hard enough to send a pleasured jolt surging through his spine.
“There’s more than one way to get off,” Daisuke chuckled, finding evident thrill in Haru’s stifled responses. “Today’s proceedings left me feeling... rather possessive.”
“You wanted to show off that badly, huh?” Haru countered, though the challenge in his words was rendered useless by the push of Daisuke’s tongue inside him. Swearing, Haru arched, biting the ball of his own hand to muffle moans and sighed fractions of Daisuke’s name as Daisuke rimmed him until he was loose and wet and rocking down in a search for more.
Haru’s cock was hard, straining against his bared abdomen with his curled-in position as Daisuke’s tongue continued to delve deep inside him. Precum leaked from the darkened tip and smeared over the pushed-up hem of his shirt, the slight friction caused by it maddening. When Daisuke slipped his fingers inside Haru alongside the width of his tongue, Haru finally let out an unrestrained groan. “If you’re gonna fuck me, at least put that hot bodysuit back on…”
“If I fuck you with that on, I’ll break you, inspector.”
The image sparked in Haru’s mind, of Daisuke in the sleek, dark ASV bending him nearly in half as he thrust his cock into Haru’s body, hard and fast and unrelenting. Haru could feel the force of it raking through him, so overwhelming that he would choke on air, so overpowered that all he could do was grip onto his partner and mewl in overstimulation. Daisuke’s fingers curled inside him in a rough imitation, pressing hard against Haru’s prostate.
Haru’s thighs quivered and the muscles tightened around Daisuke’s face, his heels digging into the middle of Daisuke’s back as the combined stimulation of Daisuke’s tongue and fingers drove Haru’s cum out in spurts. A moan mixed with a swear as he painted his stomach in ribbons of white. He still wasn’t sure how this was meant to help Daisuke, but any of the lingering soreness in his own body had undeniably been washed away.
Dropping his legs from Daisuke’s shoulders, Haru pushed himself up into a proper sitting position and grabbed Daisuke by the belt, hitching him in. Daisuke’s trousers were tented and Haru leaned in, pressing his mouth against the seam of the zipper. “Take it out,” he muttered.
“I just put on this suit,” Daisuke said, the zipper rasping as he undid the front of his trousers and drew out his cock. “Don’t mess it up.”
Haru resisted the urge to bite, his lashes fluttering as he took Daisuke into his mouth. His cock was hard and heavy, the salt of his precum spreading across the back of Haru’s tongue. Haru kept his fingers curled into Daisuke’s belt loops, controlling the pace with which he bobbed his head.
Whereas Haru’s grip on Daisuke had been rough, Daisuke’s fingers stroked gingerly through the strands of Haru’s hair in gentle but compelling encouragement. Haru sucked with hollowed cheeks, groaning when Daisuke started on a sequence of slow, shallow thrusts. Haru ran his tongue over the underside of Daisuke’s cock, pursuing the moments when Daisuke’s fingers tightened in his hair and smirking with accomplishment when Daisuke’s languid thrusts stuttered.
One of Daisuke’s hands dropped, firmly caressing the back of Haru’s neck before slipping around to trace the upper portion of his throat as if trying to feel himself filling it. Haru sucked hard, burying his face into the fabric of Daisuke’s pants as he took in the full length of his cock. A mutter and a low moan was all the warning he got before Daisuke’s cum was coating his tongue and throat.
His gaze focused on his partner’s sated expression, Haru swallowed around him, gripping Daisuke’s belt to keep him in place until he was certain he wouldn’t “mess up” his suit by pulling away.
No sooner than Daisuke’s spent cock had left Haru’s lips, he swooped down, his fingers tilting up Haru’s chin as he pulled a moan from Haru with an insistent kiss. “Mmmm, thank you, Katou.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
Daisuke laughed, the sound unfamiliar, deep and melodic. “Get the both of us to the end of this day alive and I might grant you that privilege.”
Haru rolled his eyes, using another one of the wipes from the medkit to clean off his stomach before snatching his discarded pants and underwear off the helicopter floor. “How can you be such an ass, even after all that?”
“It’s a special skill,” Daisuke replied, grabbing the replacement suit jacket so he could continue the previously interrupted process of redressing himself. “And I know you like me for it anyway.”
Yeah, that was Haru’s problem, wasn’t it? The fact that he actually did…