Archive of Our Own

Sticky. 

That’s the word Kazutoshi would use to describe the scene at hand. Sticky, covered in blood and muck and whatever fucking else Mai had done, broken pieces of a shattered skull littering the floor. 

Fucking hell, couldn’t she have went a little easier? It was always such a fucking pain in the ass to clean up busted up brains. Sticky, gross, and definitely not pleasant to smell. And now that Kazutoshi was fucking thinking about smell, did the dude piss himself ? The stench of urine was faint amidst the one of blood, clogging his nostrils, and Kazutoshi just sighs. So much for a quick and easy job. 

“Kazutoshi? You good?” Ken’s voice gently asks through his ear monitor. Kazutoshi can’t help but chuckle, just crinkling his nose as he stares at the fucked up mess in front of him. 

“Oh yeah, Ken. I’m great. He literally pissed himself. Guess Mai really brought down that hammer of justice on him,” Kazutoshi mused, and he can hear Ken barking out a soft laugh. 

“Justice? He didn’t do jack shit. Pissed off a rich businessman and got himself into this mess,” Ken says, and Kazutoshi can practically hear the grin in his voice. There was something brewing, something being conjured in that sick, twisted mind of his,and Kazutoshi loved it. 

It was filthy. Ken was disgusting, filthy, awful, and absolutely terrifying, and Kazutoshi was no better. It had been years since they had started this stupid odd job together, getting rid of evidence and doing heinous, awful shit together, but Kazutoshi hadn’t really cared then, and wasn’t going to start caring now. 

He got paid. He got paid, Ken got paid, and they could go home together and enjoy their life. He really, really, didn’t care. Sure, the poor suckers that got caught up in their schemes by mistake or even worse, as a deliberate choice suffered, but what was a little suffering in order to achieve grander, greater things? 

It wasn’t even about money anymore. They had enough of that. It was about the thrill. It was about being able to do this together, and knowing they were smarter than the dumb fucking idiots who ran the government, trying to catch the infamous two-person mafia they were and coming up blank everytime. 

It was about being together, being inseparable to Ken. Through this, Ken and Kazutoshi had solely become a duo of sorts, and they basically were treated as a unit. Without Ken, there was no Kazutoshi, and without Kazutoshi, there was no Ken. Their services were directly tied to each other. 

Kazutoshi just sighed, thinking about it. He would dispose of the evidence so when the police came by, they would find nothing, making everyone on the case want to tear their hair out as they realize Stupid Sucker Number Three Hundred Thousand (Kazutoshi wasn’t keeping count. He stopped counting after he reached the thousands, and that was three years ago) had practically vanished from existence, not a trace to be found, and Kazutoshi would go home to Ken, and take a good, long, hot shower. 

God, that sounded fantastic. Kazutoshi was practically salivating over it. With all this grime stuck between his hands, the blood slowly growing cold as he began mopping it up, Kazutoshi called out to Ken once more. 

“Hey, what are you making for dinner?” Kazutoshi hummed. He dropped the pieces of the man’s skull into the trash bag.

Ken sighs, “Probably just some soup. Sorry, I’m really tired.” 

“New job already?” 

“You know it.” 

They settle into a comfortable silence after that, Kazutoshi easily cleaning up the remains of the crime scene, and he thinks about Ken. 

Ken, who’s probably sitting at home in his stupid t-shirt and boxers because he’s a bum who refuses to wear pants around the house despite Kazutoshi’s various protests, but the very same Ken who’s finding out how to ruin someone else’s life on the very basis of the fact that he can. 

Kazutoshi can practically feel the heat building in his chest, travelling to his head and stomach. That was so fucking hot. God, Ken was incredible. He made Kazutoshi lose his mind. 

Okay, yeah, here’s where we stop. I might clean up dead-people for a living, but getting a little gay over Hasegawa Ken somehow feels a lot more illegal than that. 

Shaking his head, Kazutoshi wraps up his cleaning quickly after that. Ken had assured him the police were to be there in about fifty-seven minutes: perfect. That was more than enough time for him to get away without a trace. 

Packing the bags of waste up into his truck, Kazutoshi makes his way into the front seat. Easy. 

-

“And I told you, your pretty little wife is gonna meet a real grisly fate if you don’t wire that money over. Yes, four hundred million yen. No, I’m not negotiating with you.” 

Ken’s voice can be heard from the door when Kazutoshi walks in, and he makes sure to close the door behind him as quietly as he can. It was always a pleasure to see Ken at work: while he usually takes on a softer tone with Kazutoshi, voice gentle and reserved, the moment he was working it was like a switch flipped in him. 

No longer was the flushed, red faced Ken who rambled on about American history for hours and hours, but a suave, smug, stupidly attractive businessman. He sounds dry, voice lilting and teasing, as if this was all a game to him, all low and sweet like he was doing the victim a favour. Yes, he wasn’t going to send the sex tape of your wife and the guy she’s cheating on you with to the company she works at, as long as you gave him four hundred million dollars. Isn’t he such a nice guy? 

“Or would you prefer it if I was the one holding your wife down? She seems to really like that, huh?” Ken drawls. He sounds crude, lecherous, predatory, but  Kazutoshi has to stop himself from laughing at the utterly disinterested look he has in his face, head hanging back as he spins around in his chair. Stupid. He’s so fucking stupid. 

“Woah, woah, woah, no need to blow a gasket. I wouldn’t wanna fuck your wife even if you paid me four hundred million yen to do so,” Ken huffs out, and his eyes finally meet Kazutoshi’s. Kazutoshi offers a raised eyebrow, and Ken mouths out a sorry, it’ll be over soon before he snaps his eyes back to the computer screen. Ooh, something must’ve happened. 

“Yeah, keep this our little secret. Sure, report me to the cops. Go waste your time trying,” Ken says, voice dragging. “Cocky? You wish that was the case. Tell it to my face when you catch me.” 

There’s a couple more words exchanged, mainly Ken who laughs at the man’s insistent attempts at getting more information out of them, before the guy hangs up. Ken just stretches in his seat, kicking his legs out as he looks over at Kazutoshi. 

His eyes have lifted from their droopy state, back to the doe-eyed man Kazutoshi had familiarized himself with, and he sounds like straight honey when he begins to speak. “Hey, Kazutoshi. Sorry you had to hear that. I was trying to finish it before you came home, but he was really chatty. But hey, four hundred million yen. That’s nice!” 

Kazutoshi rolls his eyes, “We’re literally swimming in money, Ken. Just say you wanted to bully the guy a little. Who even was it?” 

“Some big shot at a company. I didn’t like the big attitude he was getting for a dude who’s wife goes around getting dicked down by like, forty men every month, so I decided to give him a little present,” Ken giggled, as if this was some casual gossip and not something that could ruin the life of multiple people. 

“Damn. Deserved it,” Kazutoshi grins, and they both know he doesn’t mean it. It doesn’t matter - they’re way too far gone down the path of “right” or “wrong” or “deserved” or “not deserved”. It didn’t matter if you were an angel or the worst person on the planet. All that mattered is that everyone had something to hide, and Hasegawa Ken was going to be the one to find out. 

“So? Dinner together, after I shower?” Kazutoshi asks, lips quirking up into a smile, and Ken just returns it evenly. 

“Yeah. I’ll be here reading, so take your time,” Ken laughs, picking up a book from his desk. Kazutoshi just gives him a thumbs off, scurrying off into the bathroom as he thinks about Ken, Ken, Ken, and Ken. 

-

The last person Kamimura Kazutoshi wanted to go to for advice was Chiba fucking Airi. 

Chiba, who literally made a living off selling the stupidest fucking products Kazutoshi had the misfortune of witnessing. However, Kazutoshi honestly believed that if someone was stupid enough to get scammed of their money for such an obviously fake product, they deserved it. Who cares if they were young, naive, or believed in Chiba? If you believed in Chiba after all the fucking shit she pulled like, every single week, you deserved to lose all your money and go to hell. 

Either way, she was a last-resort option. Last resort, because Kazutoshi realized he actually doesn’t have any friends that aren’t Ken, and it’s not like he’s dying to tell Ken he wants to see the guy business-talk him. Because that sounds stupid. 

“So you’re telling me you want Hasegawa to go all evil super-villain mode on you because you’re sick and tired of him being like ‘awww, kaa-chan, my little pookie wookie bear! I would burn down the world and commit serial murder for you!’” Chiba says, blinking at Kazutoshi with pinched eyebrows. Okay, now that she said it like that it sounded kind of irrational, but still. He was here for advice, not to be judged. 

He voices that exact statement to Chiba, and she rolls her eyes at him. Ugh- now that she had all grown out of her childishness, she thought she was way too good for him, huh? As if Kazutoshi didn’t help her out free of charge three weeks ago. 

“You’re gonna tell Hasegawa you want him to talk about extorting money out of your bank account by revealing your secrets one by one to the entire world before you tell him you’re in love with him?” Chiba asks him incredulously, stirring her milkshake with her comically large straw. That she had made him pay for, despite Chiba being ridiculously more wealthy than Kazutoshi was. Stingy. 

Kazutoshi flushes. “I wasn’t really thinking about the logistics of it, Chiba.” 

Chiba just shrugs. “Well, I don’t fucking know? What did you even want me to say? Oh Kazutoshi, please, for the love of everything is holy you should drop down, do a dogeza and beg Hasegawa to shit talk you! Yes! Because I’m your biggest supporter! Yippee kayay!” 

“I actually hate you,” Kazutoshi says, and he can’t help the shock that colors his voice. God he needed more friends than fucking Chiba Airi, who sat here and kicked her legs like she was still a fifteen year old girl when she was twenty-seven. A twenty-seven year old woman drinking a strawberry milkshake with a comically large straw and smug expression that made Kazutoshi want to blow her brains out and dump the remnants into an incinerator. 

Fuck her. 

“I don’t know, just ask him to roleplay,” Chiba drawls. “He looks like the nerdy type to enjoy that shit.”

For once, Kazutoshi thinks Chiba is right.

“Wow, you really might have a brain underneath that blonde head of hair,” Kazutoshi grumbles, making sure to flip Chiba off in the process. She crinkles her face up, looking at him with disdain, before sucking a bit of whip cream and blowing it straight from the straw into Kazutoshi’s face. 

Fucking disgusting behaviour. 

“So mean, Kaa-chan,” Chiba tuts, waving her straw around. “Big talk for a little man who lacks so many friends that all you can do is go ask me, someone you barely know for relationship advice. Really, Kaa-chan, when did you get this pathetic?” 

There’s a wry grin on her face. “You were always like this, though. No friends, nothing but Hasegawa by your side. And I guess poor-old Chiba too.” 

Kazutoshi chucks the glob of whipcream back at her. It tangles in her hair and she hisses at him, but Kazutoshi holds his ground. “Oh my fucking god, no wonder the only people that hang around you is a weird fucking animal-killing supervillain, a cultist, and another malnourished woman who scams people for a living. You’re acting like you’re oh so likeable as if you have any friends that aren’t fucking off the rails. ” 

“Hasegawa literally blackmails people into killing themselves.” 

“That’s different.” 

Chiba snorts at him. “Why? Cause he’s hot when he does it? Because I promise you, Keizou can be really hot when chopping a baby lamb.” 

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Kazutoshi groans. “Why couldn’t Watari bomb your house instead of mine?” 

Chiba sticks her tongue out. “Because Watari likes me, but she thinks you’re a bum. Which you are.” 

Kazutoshi slams his head into the table. “You’re impossible to talk to.” 

“Says the guy who called me out here.” 

“Die.” 

Chiba grins. “I’ll never die before you do. I want to go to your funeral and shit all over your corpse.” 

Kazutoshi is going to kill this girl. 

-

Asking Ken to roleplay with him is singlehandedly the most embarrassing thing Kazutoshi has ever wanted to ask the guy, and he honestly doesn’t even know how to bring it up. Throughout the entire week, Chiba’s words linger in his mind, as he imagines Ken looking at him with disdain and disinterest, words sweet and gagworthy as he forces Kazutoshi to… pay him. Something. God knows what. 

It’s a dumb fantasy. What more could you ask for, from Ken? A comically evil man who would literally put supervillains to shame, but turns into a sweet house-husband the moment he speaks to Kazutoshi. It’s nice. It’s amazing. Kazutoshi is special . 

To Hasegawa Ken, everyone is seen as a tool. Someone to be used, someone to gain something from. Kamimura Kazutoshi is the only exception to this, the only person treated by Hasegawa Ken like a real person. Someone who deserved to be cared for, someone who shouldn’t be used for his own personal gain. 

But sometimes, Kazutoshi  doesn’t want to be. Sometimes, he wants to be the one Ken is hurting. He wants Ken to hurt him. 

This is kind of awful. 

Of course, Ken is polite enough to not bring it up. He doesn’t bring it up when Kazutoshi lingers by Ken’s door, listening to him make phone calls that tear families apart and bring even the biggest of men to tears. He doesn’t bring it up when Kazutoshi freezes when Ken calls him a little too harshly, with a little too much edge. 

He doesn’t bring it up, until Kazutoshi is actively avoiding him, too scared to voice what he wants. 

Luckily Ken knows what it is, and he’s always willing to give it to Kazutoshi. 

-

“If you want me to do something, all you have to do is ask,” Ken says to him, one day. His voice is gentle like it usually is, but there’s an unrecognizable sharpness in there that Kazutoshi doesn’t recognize. 

Somehow, it feels exhilarating. 

“What do you mean?” 

Kazutoshi tries to keep his voice even, keep the shake out of his voice, but Ken is staring at him with a look on his face that’s absolutely undiscernible, something that feels like it’s going to eat Kazutoshi alive. 

“I’m talking about,” Ken whispers, voice dropping. He steps his way over to Kazutoshi, leaning in close before he finishes his words at the cusp of Kazutoshi’s ear. “Your weird behaviour, Kazutoshi.” 

Kazutoshi can’t help his breath that’s coming short. He’s trying to calm his racing heart, considering he doesn’t want to fucking pass out, but it’s proving to be very difficult when he feels Ken’s warm breath against his skin, making Kazutoshi squirm at the close contact. What the actual fuck. 

“Really, Kazutoshi,” Ken murmurs. “If you want something, you should tell me. I- I want to give you everything you want. Even if it means I have to do things I don’t usually do.” 

Kazutoshi’s head is reeling and he can feel his fingers start to tremble as he grasps at Ken’s suit. He hadn’t even realized that Ken was wearing a suit, body strong and tough underneath the expensive material. If Kazutoshi didn’t die from his job, he was sure Ken was the one who was going to kill him. 

“Like.. what?” Kazutoshi grits out, trying to ignore the way Ken is basically shoving his face into the crook of Kazutoshi’s neck, breathing softly along it and sending shivers down Kazutoshi’s spine. Why was it so hard to let the words fall out of his mouth? 

And right now, if they were just friends like Kazutoshi thought they were, what the hell was this? Did friends usually get really up and each other’s business, promising to do whatever the other wanted from them? 

“Do you want me to hurt you, Kazutoshi? ” 

Ah. 

Kazutoshi always knew that deep down, there was no hiding from Ken. Ken was always so perceptive, so observant that beneath the gentle Ken that cooked Kazutoshi dinner and took dear care of him, was a cold and calculating man that knew what his client’s weaknesses were, what all his target’s weaknesses were. 

Once Ken caught you, there was no way he wouldn’t be able to figure you out. He wasn’t such a smug asshole for no reason- he had the upper hand, and had every reason to flaunt it. After all, he could merely turn you into ruins with the flick of a single wrist, while you would stay there, meandering about, trying to kill a god that you never knew existed in the first place. 

And currently, Kazutoshi was probably the person deepest in Ken’s snare, body so mangled in the trap that trying to get himself free would kill him. Ken knew. 

Everything, probably. 

It’s just that he wanted to respect Kazutoshi, wanted to make Kazutoshi comfortable and wanted Kazutoshi to know that he cared about him, that he didn’t bring it up.

Or maybe it was the fact that Ken didn’t want Kazutoshi to freak out and leave him, like everyone else had. 

After all, Ken was alone. Just as alone as Kazutoshi, but maybe even more so. 

Kazutoshi had the liberty and ability to seek out Chiba, if he needed, and even Mai, if she wasn’t busy. He could do it, even if they weren’t close. 

Ken had nobody. 

Only Kazutoshi. Perhaps he treated Kazutoshi with such sweetness out of the fear that one day, Kazutoshi will inevitably leave him, whether it was Kazutoshi’s choice or not. 

This did nothing to quell the fire burning in Kazutoshi’s throat, and only made him want to desperately cling to Ken further. Oh, this was the man that cared about him so, the only person in the world that cared about him right now. 

And he was in Kazutoshi’s palms, willing to do whatever he asked of him. 

He can’t take this anymore. 

“Do whatever you want to me, Ken.” 

That’s all the permission Ken needs, before he begins kissing down Kazutoshi’s neck, leaving soft marks and nips that make Kazutoshi shake. It’s like Kazutoshi’s on cloud nine, his heartbeat speeding up as he feels his head start to get dizzy. Oh god, Ken hadn’t even done anything and Kazutoshi was ready to pass out. 

“You’re awful,” Ken whispers, and Kazutoshi can feel the heat rising to his face. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. “Hiding things from me, Kazutoshi.” 

There’s a warm tongue on his neck. Biting. Kissing. Breaking. Loving. Speaking. 

“Hiding that you want me,” 

“Hiding that you like it,” 

“Hiding that you love me.” 

Kazutoshi feels his limbs flail out at that clutching and grasping out at Ken as he cries out. Ah, he loved this. He loved it so, so, so much.

It’s filthy. It’s dirty, filthy, disgusting, and awful for his feelings to be torn out of his chest and put on display, because Ken already knew. 

Ken already knew that Kazutoshi was dirty and disgusting and he was okay with it. He was okay with Kazutoshi’s tainted love, okay with his filth, and it was all going to be okay. 

Because Ken is dirty and filthy and gross and disgusting and awful and horrible too. 

The small kisses on Kazutoshi’s mouth don’t feel horrible. Ken’s terrible words, degrading and mean and disgusting don’t feel horrible. Ken’s bites, Ken’s teeth, Ken’s mouth doesn’t feel horrible. Ken’s hands, gripping at Kazutoshi roughly doesn’t feel horrible either. 

“I love you, Ken.” Kazutoshi whimpers out, feeling his head go light. 

Ken pulls away, simply to put his forehead against Kazutoshi’s. 

“I love you too.” 

It doesn’t matter if they’re dirty, if they’re horrible, if they’re disgusting. 

Because as awful as they were, at least they were perfect for each other. 

Amidst dirty, broken, disgusting people, a love that remained untainted, faint and bright had blossomed.