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Atsushi hadn’t felt a night this cold in ages.
He remembered there had been times at the orphanage when the heater had broken and blankets were in short supply, when fingers hurt and lips turned blue. Tonight reminded him of one of those days. It was relentlessly, bitingly cold.
At the end of his mission, Dazai and Kunikida had promised the warmest spot in front of the heater and some gluhwein to shake the chill from his bones. The distinctly weretiger part of him imagined it could already feel the sweet, luxurious warmth spreading over his shoulders.
The thought made him pull the coat and scarf closer around his neck in a vain attempt to banish the cold from his skin.
He was on the roof of a sizeable Yokohama building now, the wind whipping up even more of a frenzy than it had at street level. He fought with a stray piece of hair and ended up tucking it behind his ear.
He mentally cursed the ADA for failing to come up with a more reasonable place to carry out his mission.
Atsushi figured he would be the first to arrive to the arranged meeting place, but he was surprised to see a familiar black shape at the edge of the building, leaning against the concrete half wall in a way that could only be described as bored.
Akutagawa. Of course.
Dazai had mentioned that his mission would involve pairing up with a member of the Port Mafia, but he hadn’t mentioned that he was paired with the one man who was most obsessed with him. Dazai had said something about “maintaining relationships” and a “sign of good will” to maintain the organizations’ fragile truce.
Atsushi was surprised when Akutagawa became aware of his approach despite the cover the wind provided for his footsteps and turned around, hands jammed into his pockets. It was the only indication that was even the slightest bit cold.
“Weretiger.” He said by way of greeting.
Atsushi considered correcting him and reminding him of his name again, but decided against it. Akutagawa was stubborn, not stupid.
He tilted his head to return the greeting and settled himself at the wall next to Akutagawa, staring down at the warehouse and street below.
Both seemed empty, though Dazai had warned him it would be deceptive. The Guild was supposedly smuggling something valuable into Yokohama, and the combined intel of the Port Mafia and the ADA suggested that this warehouse was somehow involved. He and Akutagawa had been assigned to watch the warehouse for signs of activity and intervene if necessary.
“Seen anything yet?” Atsushi asked, quickly abandoning the chill of the cold stone in favor of the relative warmth of his jacket pockets.
“No.”
Akutagawa’s replies always struck him as too terse to be tolerable. Atsushi couldn’t understand why he couldn’t at least try to be friendly.
His expression must have betrayed his thoughts, because Akutagawa sighed and explained “It’s been quiet.”
“Dazai said as much.” Atsushi reported, trying to be conversational.
“Don’t talk about him.” Akutagawa ordered, his voice snapping back to its clipped tone.
That again. Atsushi knew Dazai was his old mentor and that the relationship had ended poorly, but he had yet to ask and knew better than to pry.
He was surprised when Akutagawa continued. “I wish you hadn’t worn that.”
“Worn what? ...Oh.” Atsushi looked down at his coat and flushed, suddenly self conscious. It was Dazai’s coat, hastily offered and hastily borrowed as soon as he’d stepped outside the door of the agency and felt the harsh cold. It was much too big on him, of course. It would probably too big on anyone, but it was almost comically large on him. The sleeves reached nearly to his fingertips, and the hem dropped to mere inches from the floor.
He wondered if Dazai had given him the coat just to antagonize Akutagawa. Surely someone else at the agency had a coat that would have fit better…
“I’m...sorry?” He tried, not sure how to respond.
Akutagawa was quiet for a long moment. Eventually he spoke again, his voice so quiet that Atsushi had to strain to hear it over the wind.
“Please take it off.”
Atsushi stuttered, confused. “Take it off? Are you crazy? It’s freezing!”
“Won’t the weretiger keep you warm?” He asked, seemingly earnestly.
“It doesn’t work like that!” Atsushi squawked, already clutching the coat closer around him.
“Hmm. Strange.”
Atsushi stared after him incredulously.
“Are you not cold?” He asked finally, suddenly aware of Akutagawa’s apparent indifference to the chill. His jacket was looked no thicker or warmer than it had any of the other times Atsushi had seen him, but he seemed perfectly comfortable despite the cold wind.
“Rashomon keeps me warm.”
“Huh.”
Another long pause, and Akutagawa sighed again. “If you put that... thing ...away, I’ll let you use it too.”
“Use...Rashomon?”
“As a coat, yes.”
“I, uh…” Atsushi didn’t know what to make of the offer. He was having a very strange day for borrowed cold weather gear. “Ok.”
His cold-numbed fingers fumbled with the buttons of the coat, and he took a deep breath to steel himself before shrugging the coat from his shoulders. As it puddled on the floor, the cold snatched his voice from his throat. He hissed involuntarily and grabbed his arms, instinctively curling up against the cold air.
Akutagawa watched him, his gray eyes as impassive as ever.
“You will need to get closer for this to work.” He explained, lifting the lapel of his coat slightly.
Atsushi glanced warily at the black fabric, unable to shake the memory of his previous encounters with it. Part of him couldn’t shake the lingering fear from Kunikida’s warning to run if he ever saw Akutagawa.
Akutagawa sighed impatiently. “I am not going to hurt you.”
He edged closer cautiously until he was nearly shoulder to shoulder with the mafioso. Akutagawa turned his gaze back to the empty street below as his coat fluttered and tendrils expanded to accommodate Atsushi, curling gently to wrap him in inky black.
The warmth hit him immediately and he found himself inhaling deeply in appreciation. It was warmer than any spot next to the heater, warmer than a catnap on a summer’s day. No wonder Akutagawa had looked completely unbothered by the weather.
“This is good?” Akutagawa asked, still looking away.
“Yes. Thank you.”
They sat like that for some time, huddled together under Rashomon, eyes watching the street and warehouse carefully. Atsushi listened closely for sounds that might disclose the location or activities of the Guild’s smugglers, but aside from the occasional sounds of a distant car, nothing broke the monotony of the wind and the empty street.
That was, until Akutagawa began coughing.
Atsushi had seen him cough before-- gentle, seemingly unproductive coughs that he covered demurely with his hand.
This was different.
It came on suddenly, the startled gasp that preceded the first few heaves ripping through Atsushi’s trance-like surveillance and startling him into bracing for an attack. It took a moment to realize that it was his Akutagawa, coughing feverishly into his hand. Usually he seemed unsurprised by the coughs, but his eyes were wild now.
Atsushi knew a panicked look when he saw one.
The coughs kept coming, and Akutagawa bent over with the force of them. What little of his face Atsushi could see between his fingertips was pained and frightened.
“Whoa, whoa, hey.” Atsushi reached for him and found his thin shoulders, pulling him close. “Let’s sit.”
Akutagawa said nothing but allowed Atsushi to lower him to the floor, their backs propped against the half wall that stood between them and their target. The coughs kept coming, and Atsushi could see the speckles of blood that dotted Akutagawa’s hands and soiled his previously immaculate cravat.
He grabbed at the scarf around his neck and tugged it off, pushing it into Akutagawa’s hands. Akutagawa glanced at it briefly before taking it and pressing his face into it to muffle his cough.
Atsushi would probably hear a lecture about the scarf later, but he suspected Dazai probably had more scarves at home.
Rashomon climbed higher, circling Atsushi’s neck to replace the scarf. He would have expected it to be threatening to have an enemy’s ability wrapped around his neck, especially this enemy, but instead he found it strangely comforting. Something about it overrode the part of his brain that whispered warnings about danger.
On impulse, he found himself gently rubbing circles into Akutagawa’s back as he waited for the coughing fit to subside. His body felt surprisingly more frail and thin under the coat than Atsushi had expected. This discovery made Atsushi want to pull him closer, and he did, settling Akutagawa against his chest and framing him with his knees.
“It’s ok,” he promised. “It’s going to be ok.”
Akutagawa made a noise that sounded like a whine in response.
When the coughs stopped at last, Akutagawa dabbed his face with the scarf and tried to hand it back to Atsushi. The once pale blue fabric was streaked with bright red.
Atsushi shook his head. “You keep it.”
Akutagawa nodded his head in thanks and closed his eyes, his forehead coming to rest against Atsushi’s shoulder. A normal Akutagawa would have flinched away from the contact, but there was something about this strange truce, this rooftop, this shared space under the protective cover of Rashomon, that changed everything.
Atsushi wasn’t sure how long he let Akutagawa sleep like that, with his head buried against Atsushi’s neck and breathing slow, warm breaths that tickled the skin of his throat. Occasionally, Rashomon skittered and moved, twitching this way and that as Akutagawa dreamed. Once it constricted to squeeze them together lightly before settling back into a comfortable blanket-like shroud.
He wanted to check his phone and peek over the ledge to confirm there was no activity at their target, but doing so might wake Akutagawa, and it seemed like a good idea to let him sleep. He would have to settle for listening for anything that sounded suspicious.
Eventually Akutagawa stirred, his eyelashes tickling Atsushi’s neck as his eyes fluttered open. He bolted upright.
“Weretiger!” He sounded alarmed.
“Hi?”
“How long was I asleep?” He demanded, looking worried. “Has there been any movement? Have we received any updates? Are there --”
“Hey, hey.” Atsushi took a shoulder in each arm and squeezed lightly. “I’ve been listening, don’t worry. I haven’t heard anything.”
Akutagawa sighed in relief and rubbed his eyes wearily. “I will take the next watch. You can rest now.”
“Huh?”
“You can rest. I will keep an eye out.”
Atsushi shrugged and Akutagawa rose to perch himself on the half wall, staring blankly at the street below. Atsushi sighed and leaned back against the wall, too drowsy and bored to argue.
Rashomon reached and wrapped to envelop him in comforting blackness, and Atsushi drifted off to sleep. He couldn’t be sure, but the last thing he thought he heard was a quiet “Rest well, Atsushi.”
He woke later to a rhythmic prickling against his scalp, sweeping softly from his temples to the back of his head repetitively.
He opened his eyes and looked up to see Akutagawa reclining on the wall, one arm reaching down towards him.
Akutagawa had been petting his hair, he realized.
Atsushi peered up at him, and Akutagawa stopped when he realized he was touching Atsushi’s upturned face.
“You are awake.” He said quietly.
Atsushi hummed softly in reply.
“I have nothing to report on our mission.”
More sleepy mumbles. Akutagawa resumed his gentle scratches along Atsushi’s scalp until Atsushi stretched, yawned, and climbed up to join Akutagawa on the wall.
Rashomon followed, settling around them both lightly.
Dawn was beginning to break to the east, painting the horizon with the faintest beginnings of color. The wind had died down, though the chill remained heavy in the air. Atsushi could see their breath making little clouds of steam in the morning air.
The street below them seemed as quiet as it had all night. The only signs of movement were pigeons scuttling around on the pavement and occasional pieces of trash tumbling aimlessly.
“You are very much like a cat, Weretiger.” Akutagawa remarked, glancing at him briefly before looking away again.
“Huh?”
“I scratch cats like that, and they do the same thing.”
Atsushi looked at him, confused.
“The thing where they bump their head into your hand.”
Oh. Good grief. Had Akutagawa really been petting him?
“Like this?” Atsushi asked, bumping his head into Akutagawa’s shoulder playfully.
“Just like that.”
Atsushi went to move his head away, but Rashomon suddenly held him tighter, pressing him into Akutagawa’s side with a firm and unmistakable pressure.
“Do you think we had bad intel?” Atsushi asked, changing the subject and avoiding the fact that his head was pressed into Akutagawa’s shoulder.
“Maybe.” Akutagawa replied. “Or Dazai is up to his old tricks again.”
“Dazai? You don’t think he’d--”
“Yes.” He said darkly. “He absolutely would.”
Atsushi considered it a moment. Dazai was calculating, sure, but he had yet to be on the receiving end of one of his more serious machinations. He’d seemed so cheery when Atsushi left the agency the night before, so quick to volunteer his coat and scarf to help him weather the cold.
But he knew Atsushi would be working with Akutagawa. And he knew how much Akutagawa would hate to see Atsushi wearing something as symbolic of Dazai as his characteristic trench coat.
“ Oh .” Atsushi breathed, realization dawning. “I don’t really understand what he would get out of this, though.”
“Shin Soukoku.” Akutagawa replied simply. “A new Double Black. Like him and Chuuya.”
“But he and Chuuya are--”
“A mess, yes.”
Understatement of the century, but they both knew that.
“Would that really be so bad, though?” He asked. “A new Double Black?”
Akutagawa was silent for a moment, considering.
“I think it would be complicated.” He said at last, his voice low.
“Why?”
“Because eventually this truce will probably end. And I am Port Mafia, and you are...well.”
“That hasn’t stopped Dazai and Chuuya.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good thing. They are...complicated.”
“Ha. You can say that again.” Atsushi smiled. “But look. I think it might be nice.”
“Nice?”
“Yeah. Being partners.”
“Partners…” Akutagawa tested it on his tongue, his voice trailing off. He sounded a puzzled, like he hadn’t fully considered it before.
“Yeah.”
“Like Dazai and Chuuya.”
“Yeah.”
Akutagawa was quiet for a long moment. “You know that they are...together, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah. It’s a little weird, but yeah. I think we all know.”
He didn’t have to see his face to know that Akutagawa’s smile matched his own.
“I don’t know how that would work.”
“What, us? Oh! We don’t have to, like --”
Akutagawa cut him off. “But maybe we could.”
Atsushi was quiet, his mind bouncing from thought to thought in its confusion. One thing he did know, though, was that he felt safe and comfortable here for the first time in a long, long time.
“Yeah. Maybe we could.”
They sat in silence for a while, watching the dawn send fingers of light across the sleepy Yokohama skyline.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” Atsushi asked.
“Kiss me?” Akutagawa sounded slightly alarmed.
“Yeah. You’ve been cuddling me for hours.”
“This is not cuddling.”
“Ok…” Atsushi said slowly. “But I’ll still kiss you if you want.”
Another long pause hung between them before Akutagawa sighed and shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“Yeah?”
Atsushi couldn’t say he was surprised.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to show you?”
Akutagawa said nothing, but Rashomon constricted around his shoulders, squeezing him into Akutagawa’s side.
“You’re going to have to let me go a little, if that’s a yes.”
The tightness lightened and lifted, tendrils fluttering back to Akutagawa, allowing Atsushi to sit back up and stretch his back. “Ok,” he said, kicking one knee over the wall so he could turn himself to face Akutagawa, who was watching him warily. “Close your eyes and hold still.”
They fluttered closed, and Atsushi couldn’t help but laugh softly at how determined Akutagawa looked.
“Don’t laugh at--”
Atsushi silenced him with a delicate kiss, prim and proper and straightforward. When he pulled away, Akutagawa looked frozen, a confused look on his face.
“Well?”
“It wasn’t what I was expecting.”
Now Atsushi was the one confused. “What were you expecting?”
“More. Longer?”
He laughed. “Those are different. Sometimes you do have more.”
Akutagawa seemed to consider this a moment, looking down at his hands with the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks.
“Do you want to try that?” Atsushi asked slowly.
“Yes.” His voice was surprisingly enthusiastic, his blush deepening in response.
Atsushi leaned forward and brushed a quick kiss against Akutagawa’s lips before returning to kiss him softly, snaking one hand around his back and cupping his face with the other. Akutagawa softened, leaning into his hand. Rashomon pulled them closer together with a gentle tug at Atsushi’s back.
Akutagawa was softer and sweeter than he had imagined. Atsushi had expected him to be rough and self-absorbed, but he was gentle as he pulled Atsushi closer and deepened the kiss. His fingers ghosted up Atsushi’s neck and came to rest on either side of his cheeks, holding his face firmly.
He clearly didn’t know what he was doing, but it was clear that he wanted to.
Atsushi laughed softly into his lips, taking the bottom lip between his teeth when he felt Akutagawa move to say something. Akutagawa whined softly in response and clawed at the back of his neck, trying to pull him closer still.
He obliged, pulling Akutagawa to him with the hand behind his back and drawing his hand in a line across his chest and to his cravat, which he loosened slightly before breaking the kiss to push Akutagawa’s head back slightly and nip lightly at the exposed skin. Akutagawa shivered, his breath catching in his throat.
Atsushi lost track of time until they were startled apart by a phone ringing noisily.
He winced and pulled away reluctantly, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He frowned when he saw the name on the caller ID.
Dazai.
Akutagawa frowned as Atsushi answered, but didn’t storm off as Atsushi had expected. He stayed close, arms wrapped possessively around Atsushi.
“Atsushi!” Dazai chirped on the other end. “How’d it go?”
Atsushi knew him well enough to recognize the playful, teasing tone in his voice.
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me anything! How’s my coat?”
“Uh…”
Dazai laughed loudly, pausing to clink glasses with someone on the other end of the phone and giggle “cheers!”
Akutagawa shot him a look that said I told you.
“Well, you two have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” He cackled again and ended the call, leaving the two of them alone on the rooftop once more.
“He can’t be such an ass.”
“Yes.” Akutagawa replied simply. “I should probably go.”
He retrieved Dazai’s coat and settled it over Atsushi’s shoulders before withdrawing Rashomon. Atsushi shivered as soon as the warmth left him.
As Akutagawa turned to leave, he stopped and looked at Atsushi again, his eyes a strange mixture of their usual steeliness and the warmth Atsushi had enjoyed for the last several hours.
“I’ll think about it.” He said. “The partner thing.”
Atsushi couldn’t think of what to say.
“And thanks.”
He was gone in the time it took for Atsushi to check the time on his phone, leaving him to the silence of the winter morning and the lingering taste of figs on his lips.