AN: This was a challenge from the 2010 DC/MK Kink meme. The prompt was for dark Kaito/Aoko, alcohol, cheap hotels, emotional distress, and Aoko with a gun. i hope the end result was pleasing. I dodn't write adult content often, so if anyone fids this offensive or cliche, I appologize. Please read and review.
The gun in her hands was shaking, shaking, and she didn't know whether it was from anger or hatred or sadness. Perhaps it was all three; she thought as she stared at the man she had been hunting ever since he had led to the death of her father. Oh, it was considered an accident. It probably was an accident, but if he had never existed…if had never taken up where his predecessor had left off…
And then there was the betrayal she had felt that day when she discovered the true identity of the moonlit thief so soon after her father's death. She hated him. She loved him. He tore her world to pieces.
"Kaito." Her voice came out harsh and rough, the gun's wavering aim still pointed at the person she would once have given the world to.
"Aoko," the young man sitting on the bed returned. He didn't look as young as he was. That seemed to have been stripped off of him just like her youth had been stolen from her. There was a glass in his hand and by the look of the bottle sitting on the dingy stand of the second rate hotel, it was strongly alcoholic. Kaito didn't bother to move from where he was staring out the window. He didn't even bother to shift so that the gun would point at his front rather than his back.
"It's your fault," Aoko growled, the words she had been holding in so long pouring out in a rush. "You kept him away chasing on those stupid heists. You had to revive the thief that was supposed to be gone. You had to mess up and cause him to die. Dad's death is your fault!" Tears she thought had dried months ago choked her throat and dripped down her chin. She hated him for this too. That she was so weak and angry and bitter. She hated what she had become.
Kaito sighed, turning to look at her with world weary eyes. "I know." He blamed himself every day for the deaths his cause had led to, for hurting his mother, for taking Aoko's smile away. He didn't know which of his faithful stalkers he should feel guiltier about; Hakuba who was paralyzed from the waist down, never able to be the detective he dreamed, or Nakamori-keibu, who had had a quick death taking a sniper bullet to the head. Both images were frequent in his nightmares.
That wasn't the answer she wanted. She couldn't take him being guilty. She didn't want him to understand, to hate himself as much as she hated him. How could she stay hating him when he looked like he was already dead inside? Instead she asked the other thing that had haunted her ever since she found out. "Why? Why lie to me, your mom, Hakuba… You used me as a cover. You lied to me. Why did you choose this?" Her hand not holding the gun steady swept in an arc around the room, not so much meaning where he had ended up physically, but the place events had landed them all. How could anyone choose this?
His eyes wandered to meet hers, took in the tears, then wandered back to whatever he was seeing out the darkened window. "There was a reason once. I don't know if it was worth it now."
"Did you achieve your goal?" Aoko wasn't sure why she was asking. Did it matter? It didn't seem to matter to Kaito.
"Yes."His hand slid to his pocket, pulling out an unassuming pale stone. It looked like something you could find anywhere, not something the great phantom thief would steal. Then his hand shifted and it shone red. "This is what got my father killed. What got your father killed. What crippled Hakuba and led to the deaths of those police men. This is what lost me my life and my eye." He looked at her again, and this time she noticed the fine scars around his one eye, the eye that usually was covered by his monocle. The pupil had gone white, completely blind from the injury, and she wondered that he even had an eye left at all.
"What is it?" Her hand, so shaky on the gun was trembling harder, and she steadied it with her other hand. She had to know. She had to know what was so important that he had destroyed everything, every last scrap of peace and happiness as if it never mattered.
"Pandora, the gem that grants eternal life. Or at least there were people who believed that myth enough to kill for it. I only ever wanted to bring down my father's killers. It seems that I can't even do that right without hurting countless others in the process." He tipped back the drink as if it were poison, as if drinking it would make the darkness disappear. The action tore her in two, anger on one side, sadness on the other.
"Kaito…" The gun lowered slightly, now pointing at his back rather than his head.
"I never got a chance to say it, but I'm sorry Aoko. I didn't want to get you involved. But I guess you got involved anyway." The shot glass twisted through the air, a mocking imitation of the juggling he once did. He caught it at last second as if he had considered letting it shatter.
The gun fell from her hands, hitting the ground, but thankfully not going off. Aoko fell to her knees beside it a moment later. "Why couldn't you have said that earlier?" she sobbed. "Why couldn't you trust me? I was your friend! I-I lo—" Her words choked off. Even now she couldn't say them. Not when they mattered most, and certainly not now after everything. There was a soft creak of mattress springs and a gentle, calloused hand wiped a tear away.
"I wanted to tell you," he said softly. There was a ghost of the old Kaito in the wistfulness of his tone. "I was too worried about hurting you that I didn't even notice how badly I already had."
She slapped him, hard, and he made no effort to stop her. It hurt. A bruise was already forming beneath his blind eye. He didn't move away. "Aoko…" he murmured, but he was forced to stop talking as he was pulled forcefully into a kiss. He had expected threats, bodily harm, anger, hate…not kisses that bruised his lips and tugged painfully on his soul. He tried to pull back. "Aoko…"
"I loved you," she hissed, the words she had wanted to say for so long coming out as more of an attack than a confession. She kissed him again. "Wanted you," she whispered inches from his ear. Kaito shuddered, tried to move away, but she tightened her grip. "Don't go," she pleaded. "Don't leave me alone again." She hated him, but she loved him…but she couldn't stand to go on alone. No father, no friends, no love, no trust, only hatred and darkness and guilt. "Please."
Something that sounded like laughter only harsher slipped from between his lips. He covered his good eye with his hand. "I can't. They're still out there."
"Please," she repeated. Aoko pressed herself as close as physically possible, desperate for any comfort her old friend could possibly give. "Don't you care about me?"
"I don't want them to hurt you!" Kaito detangled himself, putting distance between them. He felt vaguely angry and he blamed the alcohol. He could never blame Aoko.
"And I don't want to be pushed away!" she cried back.
"I'd rather kill myself than let anyone else I care about get hurt," he said finally, voice cracking with emotion. What more did he have to say? He still loved her. Had always loved her. "I couldn't live if you died."
"Then I won't die." It was a simple statement, childish in its optimism, optimism which neither of them truly possessed any more, but it was sincere. And those words brought the tiny sparking remnant of hope that he held inside him flickering weakly back to life. "Please," she said for a third time.
The world, Kaito thought, had gone mad. But there was his second chance, held out to him by the person he loved most. He thought he might be crying. Kaito let her close the distance again, pulling him into another kiss, this time gentle. She pushed him backward onto the bed and joined him there, warm, solid.
"Let me love you."
Kaito looked at the blue eyes above his and knew he couldn't resist. For all that he teased her and annoyed her in the past, he could never resist those eyes. "You hate me." It was a statement, not a question, and he knew she hadn't lied when she said the words earlier.
"I love you as well," she conceded. "Is that a problem?"
"No." He found that he meant it. He wouldn't have wanted her to simply forgive him. Not when he couldn't forgive himself. He reached up, and this time he kissed her. She was salty from their tears, and he knew she tasted the alcohol on his tongue by the creases in her brow. Neither commented on the flavor. There was simple desperation in how they pushed and pulled and touched, trying to close the gap of years in an instant. "I love you," he whispered.
"I know." It was obvious when she thought about it. But then, now wasn't a time for thought. She worked her hand under his shirt only to realize that her clothes were gone. "Wha—?" She blinked. "No smoke?"
"I was planning on looking at you naked anyway. Besides, it would set off the smoke alarm." Kaito ran his hands lightly along her curves, eyes distant.
"Don't think," Aoko advised. That was the last thing they needed. She got his shirt undone and pulled it off. It wasn't fair that she was the only one undressed. She had to pause, however, at the scars on his chest. Bullet wounds, strange curved lines of cuts, signs of stitches done by hand…She felt him tense under her scrutiny, but she bent down and kissed each spot, ending with his blind eye. He had as many physical scars as mental it seemed. Soothing what she could touch would perhaps sooth both their internal scars.
Kaito was content to let her take the lead. He wanted her touch. But he also wanted to touch her. With the lightest touches only a magician-thief could have, he ran his fingers over every inch of skin her could reach. She was so soft and smooth compared to himself. He almost felt ashamed of his body. Then she was kissing him again, and he wasn't thinking, just as she wanted. He did have the presence of mind to vanish his pants. Aoko had been fumbling blindly with his belt for almost a minute before he thought to do it though.
"Sorry," he whispered. "It has two clasps."
"Shut up," she growled back, not happy at the rate things were going. "Want you. Now."
If that wasn't enough to make him want to jump her, he wasn't sure what would. With her sitting on top of him, he was a bit surprised she hadn't just taken what she wanted. He was hard enough that she wouldn't have had a problem doing so. He made a decision. In a second their positions were reversed, and he leaned over her. She glared up at him, and his good eye flickered along her body spread willingly before him. No, this had never crossed his mind in scenarios for when their paths finally crossed.
"Do it," she demanded.
He didn't hesitate any longer. One swift movement and he entered her, feeling her body resist the intrusion for the slightest of moments. She screamed. He groaned. "More!" she gasped. Kaito didn't know if she was a virgin or not, and at the moment he wasn't thinking straight enough to care. She was warm and tight and driving him out of his mind. His hips snapped forward, then back out again roughly, one hand holding her leg out of the way, the other balancing. Aoko's nails dug into his shoulders as she hung on.
He felt her surge up against him, meeting his thrusts with motions of her own, the whole time his name falling from her lips like tears dripped from her eyes. He wanted to hold her closer. He wanted this to be somewhere else, a different time and place when they were happier and their lives hadn't been fucked up. But this was their life, and she was there in front of him, and she wanted him. That was enough. It would have to be enough.
Kaito felt sweat drip down his back, and he thrust harder, making Aoko cry out. It probably hurt. Both their bodies would protest this later. But the pain of her nails in his skin and her teeth, sinking into the flesh on his neck felt right. They weren't pure. Their sex shouldn't be pure either. It was hard, desperately needy, and devoid of any tenderness they might have once had. He made sure to kiss her when he came. It felt right that way. To smother his cry in her lips, to have his teeth clack against her own, to taste their blood merging together in their mouths. Kaito collapsed on top of her. His breath came in short bursts. He couldn't have moved if he wanted to. Beneath him he felt Aoko breathe and her speeding heartbeat slow down, beating slightly out of time with his own.
"Stay with me," Aoko said finally, arms winding up between them to hold him close. "Don't leave me again."
"We're fucked up aren't we?" Kaito asked after a moment. He hugged her back, still unwilling to move.
"Yes."
"We'll make it better," he promised.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Kaito," Aoko said softly.
Kaito didn't answer. Instead he sighed. "Do you plan to turn me in?"
"I came here planning to kill you," she admitted. "For now, this is enough. You have to stay by me. That's punishment enough for both of us." The unspoken memories flashed through both their heads, and Kaito thought he understood. Just like he understood the hatred beside her love. Just like he understood his guilt.
"Yes." They fell asleep there, in the cheap hotel with the gun on the floor and whiskey on the table. They weren't happy. They weren't complete. But it was better to suffer together than to suffer alone.
