freezingrayne: (Suitengu)
[personal profile] freezingrayne
Title: It Fits
Fandom: Speed Grapher
Pairing: Tsujido/Suitengu
Rating: Worksafe
Words: ~700
Warnings: Contains mentions of violence/abuse
Teaser: "I want to know if there’s anything in the world that you desire.”

Speed Grapher is one of the best (and most fucked-up) things I've seen in awhile. Because I doubt many people have seen it, Suitengu is (one of) the villians of the piece, and Tsujido is his right-hand man.

Contains character/backstory spoilers.

Written for [personal profile] mmefrankenstein because she wins.

“It fits. I’m glad.”

Tsujido bows, feeling his face heat.

“Yes sir. Thank you.”

Suitengu is standing at the tall window behind his desk, looking out into the blood red sunset. His coat is slung over the back of his chair, the first few buttons on his shirt undone. Tsujido supposes that even a man like him can ignore the damp heat that’s blanketed the city over the past few days.

“Are you in much pain?” Suitengu asks, turning from the window.

Tsujido lifts a hand toward his face, before changing his mind halfway and letting it drop. He knows what he’ll find there.

“No sir, not anymore.” The doctors had explained it all to him, something about skin grafts and reconstructing his sinuses as well as they could, but he hadn’t heard most of it. They can never give him back what he’s lost.

Suitengu’s lips twitch into the closest thing to a smile Tsujido has ever seen him wear. “I’m pleased to hear it.” His eyes flick back toward the window, and for a few moments there is no sound but the ticking of an unseen clock.

“Is there anything else, sir?” Tsujido asks, though he can’t imagine why Suitengu would waste time just to inquire after his health.

“Yes, of course.” Suitengu pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Tsujido, if there’s anything you want?”

“I don’t…” Of everything he’d been expecting, this hadn’t even made the short list. “I don’t understand, sir.”

The sun is slipping down behind the skyline, the last of the sunset shooting crimson into Suitengu’s hair. “I want to know if there’s anything in the world that you desire.”

“I—.” Tsujido swallows. What does he desire?

Money, a voice says in his ear. That’s the right answer, isn’t it? It’s what he’d been looking for that night a few months ago, when he’d let Niihari rope him into a gang hit. Easy money, he’d said, no problem. In and out. And then a hand had wrapped around his throat, hauling him back into a dirty, windowless room. After that it had been nothing but pain and the slow, curdling knowledge that he was going to die.

The dying light gleams on the thin film of sweat on Suitengu’s neck, just above this collar. Tsujido wonders if he wears cologne, what skin like his, that houses so many impossible things, tastes like.

“I-I’d…I want to be able to smell again, sir.”

He can’t be sure, but he thinks Suitengu is pleased.

“Well. That can certainly be arranged.”

He reaches for him, gloved fingers stroking his cheek. Tsujido doesn’t flinch. When he’d seen Suitengu coming through that door, dressed all in white, he’d thought he was a god.

“Sir…?” He can’t be doing what he thinks he’s doing, but he’s leaning in, breath warm, and Tsujido doesn’t need any encouragement at all to open his mouth. Suitengu’s other hand comes up to wrap in his hair, not pulling, just holding him still. Tsujido can’t taste the tongue that pushes past his lips, but he can certainly feel it, soft and hot and shockingly gentle.

It’s over in an instant, Suitengu pulling back and leaving him flushed and shaky. The room sways alarmingly, and he feels himself falling, before a strong arm wraps around his middle.

“Don’t worry.” Suitengu sets him back on his feet like he weighs nothing at all. “That’s just the virus taking hold.”

Tsujido feels his eyes widen. “Virus?”

Suitengu lips are flushed, and he presses a finger to them thoughtfully. “Hmm. Yes. It’s necessary, in order for your desire to be fulfilled.”

“A-Alright.” Tsujido guesses a virus is as good an excuse as any for going weak in the knees while kissing his boss. “What else do I have to do?”

Suitengu smiles again, as if remembering some private joke. “Simply accompany me tonight. We’re going to see a young lady.”

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