Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.

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[=]

His little brother was a very interesting person to observe. Seijuro did so over a black shot of espresso before him, resting in a dainty, white saucer. A sliver of biscotti sitting on a napkin next to it, enough distraction and pretty details to cover up his watch. Akashi Seijuro, his brother, whom he had come to more and more so associate with his father and their deep red family name, was drinking an Americano, three fingers and a thumb around the handle and a hand under the cup itself. He personally liked the kinds of coffee shops with disposable cups and misplaced arrogance and Akashi's ridiculous posh shops with ceramic cups and actual musical arrangements playing through the stereo instead of the latest boppy radio hit spun him the wrong way. Akashi buttoned up his shirts to the top bottom and tapped the napkin against his lips like a well-mannered little girl.

"I suppose you're wondering why I called you out here today," Akashi began.

"You wanted to see that I hadn't destroyed your little guard dog," Seijuro answered. "You wanted to make sure I was behaving my little self. So that you could have some semblance of control on your life."

"You always have such an awful way of putting things, brother," Akashi said.

"Well, I've behaved myself, haven't I? Father hasn't found out about me and I haven't sent the market to its knees and Tokyo isn't blown up, so I deserve a treat, don't I?"

"I'll be the judge of that. I heard from Atsushi that you've been speaking with him?"

"Ah!" Seijuro smiled, showing the kind of wide-toothed grin his brother would never dare. In all his years of knowing Akashi, Akashi had been the type to smile modestly, never opening his mouth out of joy. Akashi was buttoned down in the way he liked to dress, honestly. "Yes, I had the pleasure of meeting Atsushi. He's a very cute kind of person, isn't he?"

"He is a very pleasant person. Please do not hurt him like I know you will, brother."

"Little brother, won't you please stop trying talking about your friends as if they are your toys? I'm not going to break everything you love." Akashi responded to this only with a cool sip of his coffee. "But cut it out with the pleasantries. I know you don't conduct meetings just for sentiment's sake. You want to know about what I've done for our cause, right?"

"You've saved me the trouble of discreetly bringing it up, yes."

There was not much to tell. He had been making phone calls and holding one-on-ones and collecting data. Akashi told him of a private channel they could exchange data on, which Seijuro had been well-aware of; he had no interest in divulging all his trump cards yet, and he knew his brother knew this as well. Akashi had been doing work on his own, transferring names and bonds to his name. "It is mere child's play to have the paperwork drawn up to add your name to mine," Akashi dismissed, waving his hand. His Americano was empty.

"I'm glad we're on the same page on these things," Seijuro smiled, wanly. His biscotti was gone, but his espresso was sitting, cooled, untouched.

There was an artificial lull, and Seijuro could hear the question unvoiced and chose instead to force his brother to say his thoughts. Akashi was folding a corner of his napkin up, intently focused on it and the dregs of coffee grounds on the bottom of his cup. Seijuro leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs above his knees. The movement made Akashi glance at him, a moment of hesitant uncertainty on his face. Then - "How is Shintarou?"

"That's what you wanted to ask at the beginning."

Akashi frowned. "Just answer the question."

Seijuro took his shot of espresso and swallowed it. He passed on the empty cup to a waitress who walked by, and cordially handed her his brother's cup as well. She studied them for a moment, a little struck by the visual of twins. But in the end she gave him a gracious smile, asked if they wanted anything more, and turned on her way as if she had not been interested for a moment. Akashi was still staring at him.

"Well," Seijuro said, a little grandiose, putting his hands together. "I slept with Shintarou."

[=]

"Eh?" Murasakibara said, stirring the boiling egg yolks over the stove, a pristine white apron wrapped around his tall frame. "You said you slept with Midochin?"

"You bet I did," Seijuro grinned, sitting on the kitchen counter in the back of Murasakibara's pastry shop, situated neatly in between a florist and a stationary shop in the boutique, outdoor market part of town. Murasakibara had been somewhat hostile the first time they had laid eyes on each other, but he supposed his face had been a buffer and there was nothing the sweet, sugar butter cookies from France he'd spent a night ordering by express delivery could not do for him. Murasakibara opened his doors to him, if a little cautiously, and when Seijuro made no attempt to destroy all the little cookies and cakes and no intention to smear his brother's name in front of him, Murasakibara allowed him to visit the kitchens. In the end, Murasakibara was a simple man, with his only motivations to create delicious snacks and promote a peaceful, snack-filled world. Seijuro did not think Akashi told Murasakibara anything, even though Murasakibara was inclined to chatter about his clientele and new recipes he'd looked up. Seijuro liked to think he satiated Murasakibara's curiosity about his brother's comings and goings. "He was very surprised."

"I would imagine~. How did Akachin take it?"

Seijuro laughed because it had been a very amusing image. "His mouth fell open. He looked like he'd never heard of such a thing before. His face turned white, almost. I know it sounds like straight out of a book, but my brother plays into tropes a lot. He's such a cute little brother."

"You shouldn't tease him like that. Older brothers should be nice."

"I'm mean," Seijuro shrugged. "He asked me why, but you know, a good boy doesn't kiss and tell. He looked like he was about to cry." He was deriving too much glee from this. He as making up for all the years he didn't pull Akashi's hair when they were younger or steal his toys or pull out his chair from under him. Murasakibara frowned petulantly at him as he turned off the flame and let the yolk mixture cool.

"That's cruel of you. You shouldn't have said anything, especially since Midochin's got no intention of going in that direction with you."

"It's my duty as a brother to be cruel. It'll keep him on his toes." Seijuro beckoned Murasakibara closer. "You've got some flour on your face." He blew on his hands and began to pat the white away from Murasakibara's cheeks. Murasakibara had been surprised at Seijuro's consistent tendencies to be physically affectionate, but Akashi was not known for anything closely remote to pats on the back or squeezes on the shoulder. Murasakibara closed his eyes and puffed his cheeks.

"You'll get flour all over yourself," he complained, and began to bat at Seijuro, running his hands down his arms to get any trace of flour off the striped button-up and along the front of Seijuro's waistcoat. Seijuro wondered how his brother and Murasakibara could have functioned as friends; Murasakibara liked to be handsy too, and Akashi could not possibly have stood for such casual affection like that. Murasakibara slid his hands around Seijuro's waist and he started suddenly.

"Sorry," Murasakibara drawled, extracting himself quickly. "Are you ticklish?"

"No," Seijuro said slowly, unsure himself. It'd felt strange, the sudden way Murasakibara had touched him, and it wasn't as if no one else had touched him like that before. "You must have surprised me, that's all."

[=]

He got the call when he was finishing his shift for the night, his phone vibrating as he was putting his white lab coat back in his locker in the doctors' personal room. "Midorima, I'm meeting my fiancee tonight for the first time. Normally, my father would accompany to meet her parents as well, but as it is, he is busy and requested I bring a family friend in his stead. Would you like to come with me?"

Midorima thought of Akashi Seijuro, the one living in his apartment with him, and felt a moment of intense moral contemplation. "You have no obligation, of course," Akashi continued, completely unaware of his internal conflict, "but I was just thinking that I would feel comfortable with you there with me."

More likely than not, Akashi was not aware how others might take his words. "You'd like me to meet the woman you're to marry," Midorima clarified.

"Is this insensitive of me?"

"No," Midorima said, tiredly. "I'll go with you."

Midorima met Akashi outside of one of the highrise hotels in the city, one of the buildings that stretched high into the night sky with sparkling lights at the top. Akashi was standing at the sidewalk, next to a dark car, in a dark gray suit and deep maroon tie against a black dress shirt. The pale cream colored scarf was loosely hanging around his neck. The tie around his neck felt a little tight but Midorima resisted loosening it. He bent down to assure the driver of the black car that Akashi was safe in his care and the car drove away.

"You look well, Akashi," Midorima said by way of greeting.

Akashi's eyes stayed somewhere near his chest, almost as if he had not wanted to meet eyes. They tipped up without warning and Akashi had a way of looking distant and petitioning sometimes. "Likewise. I hope my brother isn't giving you any trouble."

He thought of how it felt inside Seijuro, the way the warmth satisfied something dark and hungry deep in the pit of his stomach and how he never wanted to be hungry again if that were to happen again, and thought quickly about how it was something he could not even fathom Seijuro speaking of even to hold against him. "I can handle your brother."

Akashi looked away. "It's time to go inside."

Momoi Satsuki was a very beautiful woman. She came forward to take Akashi's hand, then Midorima's, before her parents as if she were their representative. "It's very nice to finally get to meet you, Akashi-san," she said, smiling and dipping her head. Her dress was pitch black, lace at her throat with gauzy floral-print sleeves and gold trim. The modest way she tied up her hair did not diminish the fact she was a sight for sore eyes, a high chin and good posture.

"It's my pleasure," Akashi smiled back, bending at the back to kiss her hand. "It is good to finally meet you."

Midorima acquainted himself with Momoi's parents, quickly assuring them he was not to be the father in law, and they were somewhat reassured; Akashi Masahi was a big enough man to strike intimidation in their hearts. They sat for dinner at the hotel's restaurant, a fancy French place that offered them a table in a private room overlooking the city.

"Our daughter doesn't usually doll herself up like this," Momoi's mother admitted during the appetizer course, clearly satisfied with her future son-in-law and comfortable enough to confess such things. "She's one of those rough and ready women you think of in dramas who runs a whole police district, the ones who rip their ballgowns and pull out machine guns."

"Mother," Momoi chastised, although she did not look particularly concerned about it.

"I like a strong woman," Akashi replied, easygoing and smooth. "I am not at all ashamed of wedding a wife who can shoot better than I can. But I am intrigued, Momoi-san, that out of all possible professions, you decided to become a police officer even with your familial ties."

"Yes, yes, we've asked that of her as well!" her mother agreed, pleased to find a common interest.

"Mother," Momoi laughed. She turned to Akashi, unguarded sincerity in her face. "Yes, I know it's uncommon for a girl like me to be entering the police force. Especially when I could be taking after my papa and the business world is just as challenging and rewarding, I think! But you see, it wasn't entirely for me; I wanted to enforce justice and a sense of peace in the world, as does everyone else, but you see, my idiot childhood friend…"

This was an unforeseen topic, as both of Momoi's parents started and began to look uneasy. "I thought we weren't going to discuss Daiki," her father mumbled.

"Oh, father," Momoi sighed exasperatedly. "For the record," she announced, locking eyes with Akashi as she said so, "my good friend Daiki and I are merely friends and have only been friends since we knew each other in school. Unlike my parents' dreams of romantic grandeur, I harbor no romantic feelings for him."

"I never thought so for a second," Akashi chuckled. "You do not seem the woman to marry one but love another."

"That's what I'm saying, mama," Momoi insisted, protesting almost childishly. "I keep telling you - Dai-chan will die if I'm not there to keep watch over him. He's an idiot, I tell you!"

"Your dedication is admirable," Midorima said, if only to soothe the frantic looks Momoi's parents were giving her; he could understand this was not the direction they wanted this meeting to go. Akashi looked at him. "To have been with your friend for so long and even now you're looking after him."

"Yes," Momoi beamed. "You understand, don't you, Midorima-san? To be very close with a very good friend of yours, like Akashi-san."

Midorima glanced at Akashi. Akashi was still looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. "Yes, I suppose it's the same." Akashi turned back to his food and speared a potato with his fork without a word.

"How long have you known each other?" Momoi asked.

"We've been acquainted for years now," Akashi interjected before Midorima could respond. "My father threw out his hip a few years back and Midorima had been the doctor who treated him."

"Oh!" Momoi said. "That's sweet. Oh, but that's probably not the word to describe that sort of thing, I suppose."

Akashi took an espresso after dinner and Momoi took a creamy latte and all Midorima could think of was that Akashi was not going to find sleep soon after drinking coffee so soon before bed. Akashi and Momoi exchanged words about the state of Tokyo as Midorima tended to Momoi's parents, answering their questions about his profession and responding with polite inquiries about their tiramisu. Momoi took her parents with her as she left, insisting she'd love to stay but it was a police officer's duty to make sure the elderly got home safe (her mother had protested at that). Akashi's smile lasted until he was certain the Momoi family had left the doors and it was replaced with a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

"That went well," Midorima offered.

"It did," Akashi agreed, his coat hanging off one arm. Midorima resisted the habit of taking Akashi's coat for him.

"Are you going home now?"

"My father reserved a room for me here, and he did for Momoi-san and her family; he was under the impression we would chat until the late hours and it would be convenient if we did not have to look at the time." He glanced at his watch. It was already quite late, eleven-forty. "I had meant to tell her, but I suppose she was already adamant about leaving."

"She liked you, I think."

Akashi ignored that. "Are you leaving now, Midorima?"

"There's nothing left for me to do here, so I should be making my leave."

"Come up with me to my suite for a bit," Akashi suggested, and it did not sound like a request to Midorima's ears. "I'd like to have a drink with you, as old friends."

Akashi's father had reserved the penthouse at the top of the hotel; there were two penthouse suites at the top and it was clear by the way there were flowers outside of one that it was meant for Momoi. Akashi entered the other one and held the door for Midorima. It was not Akashi's house, but still - he felt a moment of foreboding, as if he were agreeing to something else by joining Akashi. The penthouse was spacious, with a large bedroom opening to a wide empty space with couches facing a wide window. The bathroom, after a moment's look, revealed black marble and a bath big enough to accommodate a small family. Akashi waved a hand toward one of the cushiony armchairs in the bedroom and reached into the minibar in the kitchen area and came back with a bottle of expensive scotch and two glasses.

"My brother told me you slept with him," Akashi began without preamble. Midorima almost dropped the glasses Akashi handed him.

His response was key. Beginning too defensively would make Akashi shut down. "That's what you called me here for," Midorima concluded. Akashi poured into each glass a shot of scotch and left the bottle on the table. Their coats were resting on one arm each of another armchair.

"I was not sure how else to bring up the subject," Akashi said, taking his glass of scotch and crossing the room. "It was not something to casually mention during lunch nor something trivial enough to ask over a phone call or email."

"It isn't trivial to you," Midorima said, a little surprised.

"Did I say that?" Akashi asked dryly. "It struck me as uncharacteristic of you. You seemed to me more capable of self control and unlikely to resort to that kind of behavior. In fact, I was certain he had told me a lie but you didn't deny it yourself."

Midorima gripped the glass in his hand. "It was a momentary lapse in judgment. A mistake, if you will. It was not a smart thing to do and I regret it." Akashi was shrugging off his suit jacket and tossed it on the coat chair, drinking his scotch in the process. "But you don't need to concern yourself on the matter, Akashi. Your brother and I will deal with it ourselves."

"That's true," Akashi said slowly. "Such interpersonal matters are irrelevant to me, since we are no longer together." He left the glass on the top of the dresser and went into the bathroom. Midorima heard the sound of water running and he drank his scotch as well. The lights were low in the bedroom but the room felt hot, and Midorima took off his jacket as well. He vaguely thought of Seijuro at his apartment, a little bit of residue anger at him for having said anything, and walked to the bathroom. At the doorway, he saw Akashi peering at himself in the mirror, his face dripping. The way he wiped himself off with a towel reminded Midorima of the mornings they spent together if Akashi did not need to be in the office by eight, the way Akashi liked to lean with his back against the sink to apply Midorima's aftershave for him as he brushed his teeth.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

Akashi turned back to him, a little lost, and he dropped the towel onto the floor as he walked to the doorway and took Midorima's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. Midorima fell backwards and the momentum took Akashi with him until they had stumbled into the bed, Akashi falling forward onto Midorima's chest still kissing him, tongue hot in Midorima's mouth. Midorima's hands found themselves down the front of Akashi's shirt, unbuttoning each button with fumbling impatience, and then they were on Akashi's skin, sliding the shirt from Akashi's shoulders. Akashi was pulling his tie loose, hands almost ripping the buttons from their seams and he was kissing so desperately it made Midorima's mind reel.

"I thought," Midorima said breathlessly, Akashi straddling his waist taking off his belt, "that you said that time would be the last between us." The metallic clink of the belt reminded him this was very much real, Akashi's delicious weight against him shifting as he slipped off his pants. He thought he would never again see the way Akashi's hip bones jutted out slightly against his skin, something he was always self conscious about, and he laid his hands on them against his better judgment.

"When I heard you'd slept with my brother," Akashi whispered, "I…" He hesitated and leaned down, his chest warm against Midorima's. "...was envious, and I know I shouldn't, because you can do whatever you'd like to anyone now, and…" Akashi's voice was hot and jolting in his ear and Midorima turned his head and kissed the spot on his neck he'd discovered early. Akashi gasped, twisting on top of him, and Midorima thought if he hadn't been hard already Akashi's voice had definitely done the trick for him. He continued kissing that lovely pale neck, his hands slipping from Akashi's waist to settle comfortably on his ass. He knew he ought not to, but he pretended to forget and sucked a nice, dark spot onto Akashi's collarbone, and Akashi was trembling on top of him, grinding gently against him.

"Are you sure," Midorima breathed.

"I want," Akashi said. "I want…" He helped Midorima out of his slacks and followed as Midorima climbed onto the bed. He barely had time to even lean back on the headboard when Akashi situated himself on his lap again and was kissing him again, running a hand down his arm.

"We," Midorima began, quietly amazed at the feel of Akashi's lips, "don't have...anything, I didn't think…I wouldn't have...thought to bring anything…"

Akashi considered him for a moment before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, doing an almost sinful movement with his hips against him. "It's fine, just - do it without."

Midorima flushed. He was a doctor and - Akashi was moving so nicely against him, he bit his lip. "Still," he insisted, Akashi kissing his face, "it'll hurt if I...I don't want you to be…"

Akashi let out a laugh. "We'll be okay," he assured Midorima, reaching down to thumb down the band of his underwear. Akashi was wet and Midorima swallowed. He reached out and swiped the head with his finger, making Akashi hiss and bring a hand up to his mouth. Akashi's dick was twitching under his hand. He glanced up to gauge Akashi's reaction and almost sputtered at the way Akashi was sucking his own fingers. Akashi's eyes were murky and saw right through him as he brought a hand and began to rub at Midorima's crotch appreciatively. His fingers were glistening when he took them out of his mouth. "Take off your underwear," he murmured lowly, an order.

Midorima barely had time to wiggle out of anything when Akashi had slid down his legs to get his crotch at mouth-level, his breath hot. He was vaguely aware that Akashi had began touching himself when the man pressed a wet kiss to the fold where the head met the shaft and for a moment, Midorima forgot where his train of thought was going.

Their sixth date (approximately four dates from the day Midorima would awkwardly stumble over his suggestion of them living together) had been at Midorima's old apartment. Akashi had made an offhand comment about having been given an impromptu cooking lesson at one of the restaurants his father owned which Midorima had frantically interpreted as some wish on Akashi's part for domesticity and foolishly proposed making dinner together. It had been a stressful few days leading up to that night as Midorima had about as much cooking ability as a newborn and contemplated how he could ever tell his parents how this particular relationship had ended. Fortunately, Akashi proved to be a much more competent chef - Midorima had begun to think there was nothing Akashi wasn't good at at this point - and whipped out bruschetta with bone marrow on the side. Midorima had spent most of the preparation time reciting the nutritional value of the food.

The most memorable point of the night, to Midorima's recollection, had been the bone marrow. Midorima did not own any specialized silverware for such things so they had struggled with the smallest spoons he had owned until Akashi brought the bone to his mouth and Midorima watched, transfixed, as Akashi cleaned every inch of marrow from the bone with his mouth, his tongue pink with the effort, and Midorima had stared at the spotless bone and thought of how awful he was that he'd gotten hard from that.

"You're distracted," Akashi mumbled, not yet fully done administering to Midorima's cock, his tongue working the underside like something sweet.

"Just," Midorima said, reaching out to run a hand through Akashi's hair, "thinking about you." Akashi's hand was between his legs, reaching behind him.

"Oh?" Midorima was slick, throbbing and Akashi turned his attention to his fingers, leaning his cheek into Midorima's hand before sucking on his fingers, inching himself up to rub himself against Midorima. "Good, I hope." His tongue was thick around Midorima's fingers and Midorima tried to focus.

"Very good." Akashi relinquished him with a wet slurp and Midorima reached behind him and felt Akashi stretching himself out with two fingers. He pushed in, gingerly, as Akashi pulled out. The warmth was immediate, wet and tight around his fingers. Akashi was moving his hips until Midorima was fucking him with his fingers, Akashi grinding up gently against his stomach with a rumble of a keen in his throat. Midorima kissed it, feeling the vibrations of a groan with his lips.

Akashi's hands slipped around his neck and Midorima kissed his neck again, feeling Akashi tremble in his grasp. Akashi said something against his lips, something soft and fleeting, something like i want you. Midorima crooked his fingers.

Entering Akashi had been almost anticlimactic - Midorima thought he might have forgotten what it was like to be inside Akashi but his body remembered right away but that made it no less satisfying. Akashi riding him was a sight for sore eyes, shifting slowly and almost painfully, but soon he was panting to keep up, Akashi arching his back in the way that Midorima knew he was brushing a good spot inside him. Midorima collected Akashi's hands, holding them in his own, and kissed the insides of Akashi's wrists, feeling a jolt of a pulse for a moment, sucking a small mark.

"I've never," Midorima breathed, Akashi's fingers scrambling against his palm, "wanted to do this with anyone else, I promise - "

"Don't," Akashi mumbled, and his face was a pretty shade of red. He allowed Midorima to slide a pillow under his hips and set his own pace. Akashi's thighs were anchors at his sides, fingers buried tightly in the sheets. Akashi's eyes were hazy and a little dazed when he finally pulled out and rubbed himself against Akashi, keeping friction with his fingers. He kept his hand over them when he came, twisting his wrist until Akashi came with a soft whimper. Midorima sat back and let out a deep breath he realized he had been holding.

"I'll go now," Midorima announced when Akashi finally came out from the shower, a fluffy white bathrobe wrapped around his frame and a towel against his hair. Midorima was half dressed, rubbing his glasses against his sleeve. "It wouldn't be proper for me to stay, and…"

"Stay," Akashi said.

"I shouldn't."

"You shouldn't," Akashi agreed. "Just like we shouldn't have. But I want you to. I might regret it in the morning. But I want you to stay right now."

Midorima sighed and put down his glasses on the side table. Akashi was sulking at the bathroom door and only came forward when Midorima sat on the bed and beckoned him closer. "You're being selfish, Seijuro."

Akashi's eyes glowed for a moment with affection and his lips twitched. "You always wanted to spoil me," he said finally.

"I did," Midorima admitted, pressing a kiss to his chin. "I'll stay."

[=]

He left early in the morning, before Akashi had awoken and Akashi was an early riser. He left no note - it didn't seem appropriate, and Akashi's sleeping face had been enough to tide him over. The cab driver seemed to leer at him when he requested a ride back to his apartment, but Midorima was too tired to really care at that point. Seijuro was awake when he returned, walking through the foyer quietly.

"You certainly stayed out late last night," Seijuro jeered, a smirk on his lips. There was a strong smell of Arabian coffee. Seijuro must have found his expensive brand hidden in a back shelf. "Weren't you with my brother?"

"Say what you want," Midorima huffed, deciding he had enough time for a quick nap before he had to change into new clothes for the day. Seijuro followed him to his room, lounging lazily against his door frame in a t-shirt and boxers.

"You cleaned up well," he said. "But I guess my dear brother values discretion. I couldn't have guessed that you did anything other than tuck my brother in and stand guard outside his door."

Midorima didn't answer. His patience for Seijuro seemed infinite, strange enough for such early hours. He shrugged off his shoes and crawled into bed without a care that he was wrinkling his shirt.

"That good?" Seijuro laughed. "I'll leave you to your beauty sleep then, princess."