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It'd been over a decade since the epidemic that wiped out a third of the earth's population, and the wars and political struggles that had risen in the following, chaotic years had down in for another half of what remained, if not more if one counted the death toll to disease and crime, the lack of modern medicine, the tainted environment and water in most urban areas and the general set back in civilization.

Mikado had been fifteen when it started. He was twenty-seven now. And like any of the survivors of the years between the end of the world and now... He was changed. One of the lucky ones to survive disease and war, right? Lucky... Survival came at a cost, and when the streets of Ikebukuro, once bustling with commerce and tourists, became a dead zone of gang warfare and violence, Mikado had been right in the middle of it. And powerless.

He'd learned just how powerless, painfully, and often. Until his hatred and anger had warped and tempered him into something cold and precise as a scalpel. He wasn't strong in the way the thugs and the fighters were, but amateurish inexperience could only last so long and Mikado was a fast learner. He rose to power on three things; his wits, his force of personality, and ruthlessness. Ambushing his enemies and using clever traps and guises to get him where brute strength couldn't, and using those connections that were drawn to his innate charisma to get him where only brute strength could. Even after disaster and damage, he had a certain ability to charm people with his personality, and those that followed him now were, by and large, either incredibly loyal or too useful to be rid of. In turn his mind and vision was too useful for even the less loyal followers to risk trying to be rid of, and so a balance was struck somewhere along the line. He'd lost the charming uncertainty and idealism but he'd gained a quiet, iron confidence that others were drawn to.

He had a game, a way to control the territory he'd wrested from lawlessness. Preventing fighting on the streets of the ruined city was impossible, but he could enforce it. Give it incentive. Only registered combatants would be suffered to be found fighting, and they could tear at each other as they wished, when they wished, wherever they wished. The incentive; tags given to everyone who registered, that could be ripped from a defeated opponent. They could be traded in for anything based on their number value. Better accommodations, whores, drugs, weapons, though guns were banned from the fights. The most skilled could, in theory, attempt for the specific poker hand of tags that would allow them to challenge the organization's mysterious and shadow'd leader, though none had ever reached that goal. In turn, anyone unregistered caught fighting would be summarily executed by the enforcers--unless the enforcers decided they were good looking enough to serve another purpose.

In that way, Ikebukuro stabilized a little. Non-combatants still feared the streets at night but thugs feared the enforcers more, and some semblance of life continuing grew a little, under the watchful laws of the lawless Dollars.

For Mikado this wasn't his end ambition but it was a start. But he hadn't expected, months ago, that one of the new combatants to register would have been Kida himself. The registration took place in the mansion the main members of Dollars called home, and with all registrations Mikado had been watching the newcomers put on their masks, his own in place before he revealed himself to meet them, explain the rules, and ask if they wanted to participate.

His heart had near stopped when he'd seen Kida. He almost hadn't recognized him, both their faces and voices had changed with age and trauma, and Mikado was sure Kida hadn't even had a remote moment of recognition when Mikado explained the purpose and perks of fighters. Mikado's own role in the world he'd created was the secretary to the shadowy and terrifying Dollar's boss, with none but the highest ranking aware that the quiet and no-nonsense, rather popular secretary-san was the shadowy Boss himself. That he dealt in everything from drugs to slavery and black market items, well, that was just a means of further acquiring power. Distasteful as it was, it was effective, and he left the more sadistic parts to those that most enjoyed it, usually.

But seeing Kida had shaken him, worried him in a way he wasn't aware he could still worry. Fighters died daily, defeat could mean anything from humiliation and rape to outright murder, anything was allowed in the laws of the game, but only within the game. A victor had complete freedom to deal with a loser as they saw fit, and after seeing Kida's face for the first time in years, Mikado had had his first nightmare in years; that same face dead and staring, lifeless and accusatory. For days afterwards he'd been grumpy and out of sorts, a state he couldn't afford to maintain.

Try as he might to put it from mind, he couldn't help but be drawn to Kida's progress in the fights. And Kida's presence brought with it other trouble. Members of a gang from a territory Mikado didn't control (not yet, but that was an eventual goal, they were strong enough to pose a problem for now though) had started showing up in Dollar's territory. They weren't registered fighters and they mostly respected the game's laws (those who didn't met bad ends, even rival gangs feared the consequences of violating Dollar's law) but they were still a concerning presence, trouble tracking Kida.

And Mikado was tracking them. He knew, after a few weeks of his underlings keeping tabs, that the gang was after Kida, and so he kept watch himself or through an underling.

So when Kida found himself being backed into a corner by the thugs of that group Mikado had been watching, Mikado happened to be there. If Mikado were an enforcer he'd have dealt with them ruthlessly, but he was only the Dollar's "secretary" and so he made a note of each face before he darted out of the shadow of one doorway, grabbed Kida's arm with a shouted "This way!" and ran.

No one knew the streets and back alleys like Mikado did, like he'd made a point to, and but still he kept them navigating the maze of abandoned and derelict buildings for twenty minutes to be safe, before coming to a stop in one mostly intact old apartment building, a little winded, letting go of Kida to glance cautiously out a broken window. The streets were empty, there wasn't a sound or feeling of anyone but the two of them.

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[Thaaat was unsubtle enough even for Mikado. He blinks then sighs, setting his drink down.]

I haven't really found dating or sex that interesting since high school. I've got other things to worry about.

[It's curt but serious, not really inviting a "why" so much as attempting to end the discussion entirely.]

I think it's time you slept.

[He attempts to stand and haul Kida with him, results rely on Kida's cooperativeness.]

Edited 2013-11-23 01:22 (UTC)

[He doesn't resist! He does, however, look a little stung, before he covers it with a melodramatic pout. No matter how you spin it, that kind of flatness is a rejection. Suddenly he's a bit afraid it's also going to be a fuck-up that stays on his record.]

Jeez. You don't have to be so cold about it.

[Mikado is right in Kida's face he can't exactly miss the hurt expression. He relents a little as he drags Kida to his feet.]

It doesn't bother me. [Have you seen the shit Dollars trades in it's pretty depraved at times.] If you're lonely I know some nice girls I could introduce you to.

[Trying to shuffle them towards the bedroom.]

[He can walk! Well enough, anyway. Not in a straight line for sure. But mainly he is kind of starting to deflate and cling to Mikado's arm.]

It's fine. It wasn't just that, anyway.

[Well damn Kida's mood being ruined sucks... He's not too steady himself either so their steering may involve gently crashing into a wall at least once.]

...Sorry.

[Crashing into a wall is not so fun. In fact, when he slams his knee into said wall in the process, he makes a frustrated growling noise and just lets his legs go out from under him. He is done! Time to sit on the floor. Mikado can come too, since he's pulling on him.]

Just-- C'mere, stupid.

[Braces himself on the wall to control his descent so it's not like, belly flop on Kida time. It's only slow belly flop on Kida time.]

Mmph.

[this is fine, he can resume cuddles now, only with x2 nervous clinginess]

I'm drunk. So I'm gonna say this while I'm drunk, 'cause otherwise I won't. So you gotta listen.

[Mikado tries to make himself more comfortable at least, leaning on the wall next to Kida.]

Okay.

Okay.

...Okay. When we were little, I used to save you from bullies. You remember that, right? Right. But. Really, you saved me a lot more. 'Cause there was someone who liked me, and thought I was cool, even when I was really lame. And then I lost you for awhile, and I did some bad stuff, and when I was at the bottom we found each other, and just by... by talking to me, and wanting to come to school with me, you saved me all over again. And then everything happened, and I had to make myself stop thinking about you or I'd miss you so much I just... I couldn't breathe, sometimes. And now here I am, hopeless again, and scared, and you-- You let yourself be stupid, because you like me. And I realized after I got sick that maybe-- m-maybe that means it's not hopeless, and at the least, I know you won't let that guy... do what he wants to me. So you know. We haven't planned anything yet. 'Cause I'm really too s-scared to talk about it all. But, like always, you saved me...

So if I really just want to kiss you all night, it's 'cause you're so-- so dumb and messed up and a stuck-up nerd but you're so... important. Okay?

[Mikado stares blankly at the ceiling for a while, eyes wide and lips a little parted, breathing shallowly as the words rattle around in his brain trying to mean something. They're men in their mid-twenties who've seen enough shit to last a few lifetimes and Kida's being sappy and vulnerable and... Mikado doesn't know what to do. His head feels numb.]

[Eventually, after too long, he elbows from the wall and leans over Kida, bumping their noses awkwardly before finding the right distance and kissing him on the lips, one hand braced on the wall above Kida's head so Mikado doesn't fall over while kissing him.]

[Physical intimacy doesn't mean much to Mikado, he avoids it for a lot of reasons but it's not like he hasn't had sex. Likewise, though not the most elegant when they're both drunk, he doesn't kiss like he's inexperienced at all.]

[It's not really a response but it's better than staring at the ceiling not knowing what to say.]

[He wasn't expecting that favorably a response. He's startled when Mikado moves in, and barely processing it by the time they're really kissing. But he melts into it all the same, lifting too-warm hands to Mikado's neck and kissing back with a practiced languidness that his being drunk only partly spoils.

There's real affection in his kiss, but underneath the slow, careful gentleness there's a tension he can't quite banish. Still, he doesn't want to breathe until Mikado makes him. He kind of doesn't want to breathe at all.]

[Mikado kisses pretty deeply. Not really aggressive, not shy, just kind of kissing Kida with not entirely connecting motor skills but not so clumsily that it doesn't get a bit heated. He eventually leans back, lets them both breathe.]

I'm not some... Romantic dream that can make everything better by sweeping your troubles away Masaomi. It hurt when I thought you were dead and now you're here and you're throwing me off balance more than is safe. I'm glad you're here. And hell, if kissing all night is what you want, I'm okay with it. But don't get confused and think I'm the person you remember. Don't expect that person.

[I'm struggling just remember what friendship is like don't expect more.]

So I'm not making any promises.

I wasn't asking you to be all that. I'm not fifteen anymore either.

[And it's true, and he knows it. They're not the people they were. He can't, and wouldn't, expect that. But it doesn't change that Mikado saved him, or that he's always been important, or the other reasons that Kida hasn't voiced. That he's still terrified and needs distraction. That he's dying and afraid of disappearing alone. And that Fate has broken his confidence enough that he's simply desperate for a little validation.

If he said those things, he knows he'd lose it again. And he doesn't want the conversation going to all the areas of his circumstances that he's deliberately left untouched.]

I don't know you well enough to fall in love with you, right now. I just-- I'm just grateful...

[Mikado huffs a little, relieved. Though "grateful" annoys him a bit. But it alleviates his worries enough that he kisses Kida again, less clumsy since he's already braced on the wall.]

[He leaves his arm supporting him on the wall above Kida and just kisses him enough to get him to stop talking and start focusing on Mikado's lips and tongue and hopefully not letting Kida get caught up in his own thoughts.]

[That's easy enough. He's too drunk to keep thinking about being miserable when there's someone giving him warmth and attention and the taste of another person's lips to think about instead. He's never been the kind of person to hold back, and he's always been the kind to drown himself in the physical. He goes whole-heartedly after the distraction he's offered, and wraps his arms around Mikado's neck as he does.]

[Mikado keeps kissing him like this, lazy and drunk and a distraction for both of them. Not the most elegant, definitely not the most thought out, but the bed is far away and Kida needs something to keep him from freaking out and Mikado doesn't... hate it. As much as he dislikes physical intimacy Kida's always going to be Kida, it's hard to feel tense and on guard and aloof and detached when he's drunk and making out with one of the two people he genuinely loves and, if not fully trusts, wants to trust, in the world.]

[So in short he's actually enjoying himself more than he figured he would, which is nice.]

[It is nice. It's nice enough for him to get a little lost in, letting his fingers thread through Mikado's hair and his lips move to his jaw. He won't be able to keep it going for long. It's almost medicine time, and after all this drinking it's pretty much bed time, too. But for just a few brief minutes, he's hungrily taking in all the attention he can get.]

[Mikado goes a little stiff but moves his head to the side, lifting the hand not bracing him to the wall. He places it on Kida's chest, feels his muscles through the fabric of the shirt, just... touching. A little clumsy and awkward but that's probably still the booze.]

...We are really drunk.

Yeah... So? Lucky'd fuck you sober.

[Which makes a distinction between Lucky and Masaomi, yes. But right now Masaomi is also heading toward Mikado's neck and straight down Hickey Lane.]

...Who says I'd fuck Lucky, though?

[Muttered. He leans his head against his arm, humming a little because it feels good and he's buzzed enough (trusts Kida almost enough) not to care or get too control freak about the situation. Just lazily running his hand over Kida's chest and abs and hip, fingers tugging at his shirt until they find their way under it to bare skin.]

Mm...

[Mikado's hand feels nice. He could be thoroughly distracted by it, if he weren't also being distracted by paying attention to the clock. He's trained himself to do that no matter what other condition he's in.

Five minutes. He's got a five minute window. Maybe...]

We should quit. Or go to bed.

We should go to bed anyway...

[Mikado strokes one of Kida's nipples absently with a thumb then draws his hand back.]

...Standing seems like a pain. [He says that but he's pushing himself to his feet.]

[He doesn't really wanna let go. Especially when Mikado's doing things that make him gasp and shiver. But it's that time, so:]

Gotta try...

[He can do it! He can totally get up and wobble towards the bedroom. With great determination.]

[Mikado's got the wall bracing him so he manages to make his feet. Even offers Kida a hand up when he manages the impossible feat of standing.]