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plotsignificanthaircut555 · 5 months

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Ternion Part 1

Kishibe x Reader x Aki Hayakawa SMUT, Angst, Fluff, MDNI, 18+ only ao3

(this part is mostly Kishibe x Reader. Part Two will mix it up more)(( I did, they do. heres Part 2, and heres Part 3)) 9.2k words.

The Public Safety Office is notorious for breeding all kind of salacious office romances. You just happen to be carrying on two at the time. But what happens when the wild card Captain Kishibe finds out you have started seeing the tragically handsome Aki Hayakawa? Will you have to choose? Or maybe the three of you can find some kind of…arrangement?

Content NOTES: SEX/SMUT, kissing, spitting, riding, jealousy, fighting, cursing, teasing, Kishibe is kind of a dick in general but it’s because he’s got FEEEELINGS, lots of pining in general, y’all already know we’re gonna be smoking and drinking coffee, again this is the start of a two part-er so bear with me here. There’s a lot of fighting in this part, we have to build the tension, gang. Okay bye I hope you enjoy.

Okay what is it?” You had finally had enough, you pulled off Kishibe's lips, using your hands on his chest to push away.

You two had been making out hard for about ten or so minutes. This wouldn’t be a problem, except you were just kissing. He hadn’t made any effort to remove your shirt or grind you down on his lap which you were so prettily perched on. He hadn’t even snuck his hands under your shirt to undo your bra with one move of his thumb, one of his favorite moves!

The man underneath you cocked his head, playing stupid.

“What d’you mean?”he huffed out, eyes betraying nothing.

“I mean you’ve been over for a half hour and you’ve barely put your hands on me. I’m in your lap, doing some of my best work and you’re not even hard. What’s up?”

It’s like he was bored, not really bored, but he was— distracted. He clearly had something on his mind and it was interfering with your ability to get laid, and you would not, could not, stand for that.

The pair of you were folded up in the large recliner in your small apartment's living room. He had come over, like he did pretty much every Thursday night for the last four or so months, bringing a bottle of wine for you, and nearly 45 years of sexual experience to keep you blind with pleasure. It wasn’t terribly long but it was long enough for the two of you to develop an exciting and standing casual arrangement. No strings attached, just incredible sex and some camaraderie between colleagues. You liked things this way, and he did too, or he seemed like he did. Usually. Tonight he was just off, from the moment he showed up at your door you could tell something was bothering him, something was almost always bothering him so you figured it was he would forget about it once you got your lips and hands on him. Usually this would have been enough, but here you were: grinding away, kissing his neck in all of his favorite spots and he was giving you nothing.

Kishibe clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. Kishibe pretended he hated when you got bratty, usually he’d show you just how much by railing you into the mattress or spanking you until you cried, but instead he just rolled his eyes and huffed. You didn’t care for his bratty side either, so you started to move off of his lap. Before you could stand, he gripped your hips, hard, holding you firmly where you were.

“Are you fucking him?” He growled out, large hands gripping the flesh of your hips.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” You shot right back, excited to finally get him talking to you, and touching you.

“The kid.” He specified, his shark eyes meeting yours in a new, predatory gaze.

You raised your eyebrows, you were starting to get annoyed now. If he was going to ruin your night’s plan of mindless sexual bliss he could at least make it concise.

“That’s an insane follow up. Kishibe, who the fuck are you talking about?”

“Hayakawa. Are you fucking him?”

Oh.

“So what if I am?” You crossed your arms.

“So you are.” Kishibe’s lips were so tight, you could practically hear his teeth grinding.

“Occasionally.” You shrugged.

“Does he know you’re sleeping with his superior?” He meant it in the technical, work hierarchy sense, but something in his tone begged you to infer something more malicious.

“You’re technically my superior, too, so I figured that wasn’t exactly something you wanted too many people to know.”

It wasn’t against the rules for you and Kishibe to be sleeping together, it wasn’t against the rules for you and Aki to be sleeping together either. Devil hunters hooked up all the time. Everyone either knew about it or was actively participating. But there were definitely more murmurings when there were such wide gaps in age and positioning, such was the case with you and Kishibe. He was twenty years older than you (give or take)and of course he had a…reputation. It went smoother in people’s minds for you to say you were sleeping with Aki: nearly the same age, the same job, compatible demeanors. People would be happy to know you and Aki found comfort in one another. Kishibe was a wild card, a mad dog, unpredictable, a recipe for disaster and heartbreak. You knew this, because you had told someone, you told Kobeni one night at the bar and her reactions played out exactly as expected. Saying Aki was totally fine, good even, you both deserved something nice. But you should be careful with Kishibe, that he would probably be too emotionally unavailable or just generally bad news, and at the very worst actually dangerous. You explaining to her that it was purely physical didn’t do much to soothe her anxiety, but rarely anything did.

Kishibe repeated himself underneath you, “Does he know? About us.”

“Not specifically. He knows I’m sleeping with someone else.” You confessed.

Kishibe started to sit up, and you let him, climbing off his lap and standing up next to the chair. He stood up and walked to the kitchenette to pour himself a drink. You stood and watched him.

“What’s the big deal, Kishi?” You couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped you. He was being so dramatic.

He stayed silent and gulped down a heavy pour of whiskey, and went to pour himself another.

“I honestly didn’t think you would care. Especially not this much.” You rolled your eyes, still watching him with your arms crossed.

“Then why didn’t you mention it until now?” He finally replied to you.

“I didn’t think it mattered. You knew I was seeing other people. I know you’re doing the same. Why does it being Aki matter so much?”

He tsked, “so familiar.”

You laughed again, “Kishibe, come on. Are you seriously upset about this?”

He swallowed his drink whole again and cleared the bottle into his glass. You sat down on the recliner in a huff.

“Jealousy isn't a good color on you.” You picked at the edges of your fingernails. Any arousal you had been feeling before was long gone, leaving you instead with irritation.

“I’m not jealous.” He groaned.

“Right. Of course not.” You shook your head.

“I just think it’s stupid.”

“You think It’s stupid or you think I’m stupid?” He caught your attention now. Standing up from the chair to face him again.

He turned to face you again, the studio suddenly felt cavernous with the space between you.

“I think you’re being stupid. I don’t think you are stupid. I just expected more from you.” He shrugged, leaning against the shitty laminate countertop.

He went too far with that one.

“You’re scolding me now? Like I’m a child? Where do you get off talking to me like you have any say in what I do?” You challenged him, imploring him to revise what he had said, for his own sake.

Kishibe stood firm, “I just didn’t think you were the type to go with a kid like that.”

“We aren’t going together. We’ve had sex a few times. It’s casual, like we’re casual. Sex doesn’t mean we’re going together. Don’t make it so obvious you were born in the 40s.” You shrugged, annoyed at this point, how dare he talk to you like he was in charge, like he had any claim to you.

Kishibe left the counter and walked towards you. Closing the distance rather quickly for a half drunk. He was so close now you could smell his cologne, you usually loved the smell of his cologne. It was comprised of dark, earthy scents: tobacco, vanilla, cognac. But now it was overwhelming, and you wanted to pull away, but you stood your ground.

“Isn’t he a little…green…for your tastes?” He cocked his head to the side, eyes scanning you closely.

He was sizing you up, seeing if you would jump to defend Aki, or if you’d fawn and flatter him instead. You chose neither. Despite having to look up at him due to his stature, you sacrificed no command over the exchange.

“I think I can make that call for myself.” You mirrored the angle of his head and leaned a bit close.

You saw the scarred half of his mouth twitch slightly and his eyes begin to dilate, fixing onto you,“Thought you needed someone who knew what they were doing? Someone who knows where everything is, knows how to make someone else cum. Does he?”

His voice was starting to align with the way he would talk to you when he was talking down to you in bed. When you’d let him boss you around and you’d do whatever he said. You couldn’t fight the fact that he was sexy like this, voice dripping, leaning over you, using his full height to his advantage. But he was also being a dick. You could deal with him being a dick most of the time, but this was different. Was he actually judging you? Or was he actually just jealous?

The truth was Hayakawa was great in bed, he was attentive, efficient, good kisser, better with his hands, in the few encounters you had, you slept soundly in his bed after one or two orgasms and often woke up to coffee ready.

But Kishibe was just…on another level, and the asshole knew it. He was right, his experience and his edge made him an exceptional lover. He could have you cumming three times over without even taking his cock out. His tongue was wicked, his fingers were thick and long, but it was something beyond all that, something intangible; like he could see right through you, some clairvoyance that showed him the perfect way to take you apart. But Kishibe almost never slept over, he would lay with you for an hour or so afterwards, smoking and chatting, but if it wasn’t leading to another round, he would redress and excuse himself. On the exceedingly rare occasions he did sleep over, it was you who made coffee or breakfast, only to have him kiss the top of your head and leave before partaking in any of it.

You didn’t want him to be your boyfriend. You didn’t want a boyfriend period. But sometimes you wanted a bit more intimacy than just sex, you wanted him to hold you, sleep next to you, to kiss you when he woke up the way Aki did. When you were with Aki it felt like you were indulging in a shadow of a relationship, when you were with Kishibe you felt exhilarated and alive, but not necessarily cared for. It was the reason you had them both.

But you weren’t about to let Kishibe know that. Leaning into him coyly and batting your long lashes up at him, fingers toying for his loosened tie. An interested smile sat on his lips, which he parted slightly as you inched closer.

“Mmmhm. And I can ride him without worrying about him going into cardiac arrest.” You pushed him away hard, passing him and retreating to the kitchenette.

“You’ve really got quite the mouth on you, kid.” Kishibe was stunned. Furious and stunned.

“And it’s such a shame you won’t be getting to enjoy it tonight.” You said into the refrigerator, looking for the bottle of wine he had brought over earlier, “if that’s all, you can go.”

Kishibe realized he was losing the battle. He was annoyed about Hayakawa, he wanted to address it, but he didn’t expect the conversation to go so poorly. He really fucked this up, he hadn’t intended to go so off the rails.

He found out this morning; he had seen you and Hayakawa talking, it was so subtle that anyone else wouldn’t have noticed, but Kishibe knew you. The way you had smiled at the dark man, the way Aki had moved some of your hair over your shoulder and given you a light squeeze, the way the kid’s eyes watched your mouth so closely. He knew instantly you had fucked. Or, worse, have been fucking. He felt that ugly green monster start devouring his stomach at the thought of Hayakawa knowing how you felt inside, how you sounded when you were full, the way you kissed, the way you tasted. Kishibe hadn’t ever been a jealous man, a persistent one, sure, but never envious. And never for someone so…young. It preyed upon a deep seeded insecurity in him. He knew that if it were hunting, he could kill every devil in sight and Hayakawa before the kid could even blink. But sex was one of his skill sets that he kept, for lack of a better term, close to the belt. He knew he had a reputation for being good, and experienced, but age and time came for everyone eventually. Were you seeing this kid because he wasn’t satisfying you the same way? Did you need more from him and he couldn’t give it? What the fuck was Hayakawa giving you that he couldn’t?

Fuck.

It had buzzed around in his mind all day, he knew he was seeing you tonight and he had tried to knock the thoughts free before he came over, to no avail. Now he had let his temper get the better of him and you were shutting him out.

You found the bottle and were peeling the foil when Kishibe approached behind you. You were familiar with his move set by now that you practically felt his fingers ghost over your neck and move your hair to the side before they did. You were annoyed, but you let him press his lips to your exposed neck, his other hand moving over your waist and hip.

“I’m sorry. I was out of line.” He mumbled.

“You’re an asshole.” You corrected him.

“I’m an asshole.” He nodded, his stubble scratching the tender skin of your neck.

“And I’m too good for you.” You added.

“Far too good for me.” He had both of his hands on your hips now, he was winning you back over.

A small moan slipped from your lips when he kissed just behind your ear. You set the corkscrew and bottle down on the counter, opting to grip the edge instead. Kishibe’s hands gripped your hips and pulled you closer against him, kisses moving down the side of your neck and across your shoulder. You shivered, his lips were kiss bitten and swollen, reminding you of why he had come over in the first place. You could feel yourself falling under his spell already, this was so like him. He could fuck his way out of anything if you let him. You didn’t want to let him off the hook, you wanted to make him apologize, to make him explain himself, but you could already feel the ache building inside of you. Kishibe slid his hand underneath the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers pressing against the soft skin of your lower stomach.

“Come on, baby. Forgive me already.” He mumbled into your hair, “said I was sorry.”

The back of your head hit his collarbone, “you don’t get to come here and cause problems and then fuck me until I forget.”

He shook his head, he was barely listening at this point, too focused on moving his hand up your abdomen toward your left breast.

“Kishibe…” your voice fluttered, you were trying so hard to remind yourself to stay strong, “I’m serious…”

He nodded his head, now fully not listening, his hand had reached your breast and was working its way under your bra, twirling his index finger around your nipple.

You were done for, you shuddered back against him, a wanton moan leaving you as his hot tongue swiped up your pulse point. Kishibe couldn’t hold back the pride he felt, just barely touching you and already you were trembling. He grabbed a fist full of your breast with his right hand, moving his lips up your neck, across your jaw. You rushed to turn your face to meet his mouth, immediately your tongues tangled, settling into their rhythm from before. His hips trapped yours against the counter, he tasted like whiskey, he smelled like leather, his mouth was so warm and inviting. The length that rested against your lower back was growing, Kishibe’s arousal had been resurrected. His kisses were hot and hungry, his tongue exploratory and eager, his hands wandering and groping freely.

“Say you’re sorry,” you groan against his lips.

“I’m sorry.” Kishibe does so instantly, gripping your other breast harder than the first.

“Say it again.” You turned your body further, trying to face him.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered again, his hand now removing your bra although you didn’t even feel him unclip the clasp.

Your own hands went to work unbuttoning his shirt, and pulling it from his work pants. When they found his belt you finally hear Kishibe moan. A fluid, throaty sound that sent heat to the tips of your ears. He removes your own shirt, grasping at your chest with both hands freely. The only sounds in the room are the hot breaths stolen in between fevered kisses, the jingling sound of you removing his belt, and the shuffling of fabric between your grinding bodies.

“Come here.” Once he had been freed from his shirt, his belt, and you had started your work on his zipper, Kishibe hooked his hands around the back of your legs. He picked you up easily, one arm under your butt and the other supporting your back, a hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

He walked the two of you back to your bedroom, not needing your direction, laying you out on the bed. You rushed to rid yourself of your remaining clothing, leaning on your elbows to watch him do the same. Kishibe was an imposing form, tall, and built. Intricate patterns of scar and muscle made up a tapestry of his personal history. There were fresh and early stage healing bruises along his side and hip.

He removed his pants, and your mouth started to water at the reveal of his hips and thighs. It was such an intimate part of the body, especially on a man. More private even than the genitals themselves, maybe. Serving no overt sexual function but still remaining spots seen rarely and only by those privileged with a whole form. Seeing a lover, or anyone undressing is an act of trust that you relished in. You watched closely as the muscles strained and flex, rippling over one another, skin stretching and folding with every move. You were familiar with how he moved, the choreography of his body when he fought, practiced technique with the perfect amount of finesse, here in the privacy of your room he moved with the same type of refined confidence.

Now cleared of all barriers between yourselves, he approached you, spreading your knees apart with his hands. The cool air hitting your dampened center sent a shiver through your body. Kishibe watched you twitch, hole clenching around nothing already as your lips parted. You were already so wet for him, so ready, so desperate. He truly had you right where he wanted you. A wicked smile curled across his face as he knelt before you on the bed. One of his hands began to palm his cock; hard and heavy between his legs, standing at attention, a bead of precum building at the tip.

“Look at you,” he marveled at you exposed to him on your back; nipples peeked, skin flushing, pussy dripping onto your bedsheets. You looked completely fucked out already, “you need my fingers, baby? You want my cock? Ask me, baby. Tell me what you need.”

You whimpered watching his body react to his own touch, abs clenching, cock jumping, breath increasing, “Kishibe fuck me please…I need you inside.”

He clicked his tongue again, his unoccupied hand moved your leg onto his chest, bringing your ankle by his neck, and your thigh pressed up against his hip. He wanted your skin on his as much as possible, despite his desire to extend your restlessness, he ran the head of his cock up and down your slit. He bit back the shaky moan that threatened to leave him as your wetness started to suck him in. You couldn’t keep yourself from rocking your hips in time with his movements, carving the feeling of him sinking inside of you.

“Kiiiiiishi.” You pleaded again, you should have cringed at the pathetic sound of your own voice, but you couldn’t care.

Kishibe put one hand next to the side of your head, leaning down to you, your leg bending with him to open yourself more for him, “you want this dick? You want my dick? You want me to fuck you?”

This should have raised alarm bells for you, a clue that maybe your earlier argument wasn’t yet settled for him. But in this moment, with him so close, just barely not penetrating you yet, his lips nearly on yours, the thought never entered your mind. Instead you nodded messily, affirming his possessive dirty talk.

“Yes, Kishibe, I want you so bad. I need your cock. Please. Please.” Your begging was getting more weak, Kishibe was dripping already, coming far too close for not even having entered you yet.

When his tip breached past your hole, you and Kishibe moaned together, your sounds of pleasure merging in the air into a singular divine sound. He had one hand gripping your thigh tightly, pushing it as far back as your hamstring would allow. You dug your nails into Kishibe’s forearm by your head, bracing for the feeling of his cock remolding your walls to match its shape. But it didn’t come. Opening your tightly shut eyes you found Kishibe staring down at you, scanning your face closely.

“Wha—“ you started to protest.

“How does he fuck you?” The older man spoke in a low, measured voice.

“Are you fucking—-“

He cut you off again by pushing more of his length inside of you, “this deep? Deeper?”

Kishibe pushed deeper into you slowly, watching you for an indication of answer.

Your back arched up as he pressed deeper and deeper inside of you, his seemingly endless entrance leaving you barely any thinking power to process his question. Kishibe pulled his hips back, pushing your thigh into a deeper stretch. Only a few inches of his cock remained buried inside of you. You wanted the full length so badly you felt hot tears start to sting in your eyes.

“More like here right?” Kishibe mocked you, barely pushing in and out of you in shallow, sloppy thrusts.

It was cruel of him to be making fun of Hayakawa like this. Something so personal. Nor was it fair to you. But you wanted him so badly you couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think about Aki right now. You could think only of him.

Kishibe pushed deeper into you, the arch in your back, and your heaving breasts beckoning him closer, “tell me whose pussy this is.”

You mewled in response, only for him to respond to your insolence by slapping the outside of your thigh. The tip of his cock pressed so hard against the wall of your cervix, you wanted to squirm away from the sensation, but Kishibe held you still.

“Now. Who owns this pussy?”

“You! You Kishibe, fuck— you.” You could barely get out the words as he hammered into you relentlessly.

Kishibe’s big hands moved over your face, moving sweat of your hair out of your eyes, his taunting voice cooing at you.

“That’s right, girl. You need this big cock, you need someone who can treat this pussy right. Who knows what she needs.” He rocked into you again and again, alternating between filling you completely and leaving you empty.

Your hands battered his shoulders limply, non verbally begging him for more. Kishibe had turned your brain to mush, you couldn’t think in sentences, only feelings of pleasure jolting through you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed down to you in mock kindness, “nothing to say now that you’re too of cock full to think?”

You shook your head dumbly, or attempted too while one of his hands was still holding your jaw in place. He squeezed the sides of your face lightly, making your mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming you stuck out your tongue eagerly. Kishibe gathered spit in his mouth, letting it run from his lips to between yours. His saliva was warm, it tasted only like him, a taste combination entirely his own. Purely Kishibe. You swallowed it down after letting it linger on your tongue for a moment or two. His hips stalled briefly as he felt your walls clench around him. His head hung above yours, his hair brushing against your own head as he leaned down to kiss you again. He pressed deeper into you, although not thrusting, as his tongue slithered against yours. Your hands found the back of his hair, tugging lightly at the cropped undercut, pulling him closer. He pulled your leg up over his hip, and around his lower back, keeping his hand gripped around the flesh of your thigh. In one perfect move he rolled onto his back, bringing you with him, propping you up on his lap before you had time to gasp.

“Cardiac arrest huh?” Kishibe swatted your ass, urging you to move your hips, “you think you’re funny now?”

Getting your bearings back you steadied your hands on his chest, starting to move your hips up and down his length. He tipped his head back underneath you, reveling in the show you put on for him. He loved watching the muscles in your thighs flex as you rose yourself up and back down on him. How the meat of your stomach would move with every lurch, your breast following suit. You were so beautiful. So uninhibited, so unashamed. How ever had he gotten so lucky? To find himself below you in such bliss. Kishibe tucked one hand behind his head to watch you and kept the other on your hip, offering support more than actual guidance in your movement. His cock had an upward curve in it, meaning when you rode him its head nestled perfectly against your g spot. Your body moved on its own, bouncing in a perfect rhythm, fucking yourself on his length, it felt so good, but you needed more.

“Kishi, please.” you grabbed at his hand, trying to pull his fingers off your hip, “Please, baby, ah, touch me.”

He let out a low whistle, “I think I should keep you like this. So desperate for me. Just me. I like you like this, girl.”

You whined, tears returning to your eyes, “Don’t do this kishi…ah..wanna cum. Please.”

“Show me how Hayakawa likes it. How do you fuck yourself for him?” He clicked his tongue, gripping your hip harder, indicating he wouldn't be touching your aching clit anytime soon.

You stilled your movements, now more annoyed than desperate, “You’re still thinking about him, right now? You’re literally inside of me and you’re thinking about Hayakawa?”

Kishibe chuckled lowly, pulling your hips up and down again, slowly, testing his luck, “I was just curious about what he gets to see that I haven’t.”

“You’re not funny, Kishibe, I was so close.” You smack his hands away from your hip and pulled off of him, feeling the ache in your legs now that you didn't have the momentum to keep you going.

Kishibe groaned as you removed him from inside of you, his now soaked erection flopping onto his abdomen. He reached out for you but you smacked at his arm, “Baby come on…I was teasing.”

“I told you, it's not funny, it’s mean. You’re being mean. What’s your fucking problem? Why do you have to be such a dickhead all the time?” You stood up from the bed, retreating to the bathroom to clean up the lingering mess between your legs.

Kishibe didn't know why he had said it, any of it, or why he had continued to push. He just couldn't get the image of you and Hayakawa together out of his head, seeing you above him he couldn’t stop picturing the younger man touching you in his place. He moved his hands over his face, hearing the faucet in your bathroom start running. He was pushing you away, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to avoid your rejection. It was one thing to share you with whatever nameless, anonymous sexual partners you could find in your own time, but it being someone he knew was eating away at him. He felt like a fucking teenager. Immature, ego fueled self sabotage taking over when all he truly wanted was to have you to himself. But he couldn’t ask that of you.

Kishibe slung his legs over the bed and stood, knees clicking, to join you in the bathroom not bothering to clothe himself. Entering the bathroom with a light knock he caught your eyes in the mirror, you were pissed. He figured it was best to let you speak first, he was clearly only driving his foot deeper into his mouth.

You were pissed. You were angry and unsatisfied and embarrassed. You really thought this was working, you liked Kishibe; you liked how hard he was to crack, you felt honored he had let you so close to him, he was good in bed, interesting, handsome, funny—in his own way, and you learned you really did like spending time with him. It had started so easily, and continued naturally, very little discussion necessary; you kept things neat and discreet without reveling too much in the excitement of a secret romance. You had looked forward to seeing him, often scheduling other plans around him to make sure you could see him each week or at least every other week. You felt like an idiot. You knew he was unpredictable, but this sort of reaction to simply overhearing the idea of you sleeping with another coworker was unacceptable. You splashed some cool water on your face; ridding your skin of its pleasure induced flush, and the taste of him from your mouth. When he entered the bathroom behind you, he looked as stoic as ever, but his eyes were wide and careful; like he was watching a dangerous animal move before him. You sighed, placing your hands on the basin of the sink, the stone giving you the resolve to speak your mind.

“What do you want from me, Kishibe?” You sighed out, exhausted at having to continue fighting with him.

He stayed quiet until he realized you were truly going to wait for him, “I don—“

“Do you want me to stop seeing him?” You speculated this was exactly what he wanted.

He looked back at you through the mirror, desperate to try and read what you wanted as though it would appear on your face.

“Do you want me to stop seeing everyone that isn’t you?” You gripped the sink tighter, as though if you cracked the porcelain you could stave off the hot tears building in your eyes, “we agreed this wasn’t serious. That it was casual. That we were welcome to see other people. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It’s what you said you wanted.” Kishibe answered you finally.

Watching his shoulders raise and droop in the mirror you had to turn yourself around. Needing to look him in the eye.

“And you agreed. You don’t get to act like this is something I’ve done to you. If you wanted something else you should have said so.” You were taken aback by his assertion.

“I didn’t know what I wanted. I knew I wanted to fuck, and that I wanted to fuck you. I didn’t know how long it would last, I didn’t want to push my luck.”

“So what do you want now? Because I don’t want to guess anymore. I’m so fucking tired of trying to read your mind.” You leaned back against the bathroom counter, the cold stone chilling your body quickly.

“I don’t know.” Kishibe started to stammer again but you stopped him.

“Then I think you should go. Until you know what you want, I can’t keep talking about this tonight.” You were steadfast in your verdict, and there would be no changing your mind.

Kishibe wanted to argue back, to tell you that he wanted you to himself, all to himself, that he hated seeing you and Hayakawa this morning, that he hated how he acted tonight even more. But he couldn’t. So instead he turned back to your bedroom and began to redress himself.

You followed him, wearing your black bathrobe, the intimacy of being naked with one another was gone, there was no room with all the tension and anger inside of the room. A few stray tears slipped from your eyes as you tried not to watch him get changed. No words passed between you, once again the only sound in the room was the sounds of rustling clothes and the jingling of his belt. But now the sound felt so foreign and so strained.

He buttoned his shirt and threw his tie into his pocket rather than tying it. And when he was fully dressed he looked back to you, his heart lurching at your tear stained face. Your eyes were red, the sides of your nose and the apples of your cheeks flushed too. He had done this, he felt sick. He approached you carefully and took your face in his hands, to his surprise you let him. He moved his thumbs over your wet cheeks, you looked so sad, big eyes wet and full looking at him. He wasn’t sure what to say, what he should say, if you wanted him to say anything. So he kissed the top of your head softly.

You allowed this, it was ritual for him to leave your apartment with a kiss on the head. Although it was usually in better spirits. You looked up at him as he pulled away, catching his dark, sad eyes.

“I’ll see you later?” He was asking, not telling.

“I need to know what you want. And I can’t guess. You have to tell me when you figure it out.” You finalized your instructions, the skin of your forehead tingling at the lingering feeling of his lips.

He nodded before leaving your bedroom, pulling on his coat, and leaving out your front door. Once you heard it shut behind him you collapsed into your bed, exhausted and devastated. The sheets still smelled like him, you couldn’t restrain yourself from burying your face in them, sniffing up every lingering note. The night's events replayed in your mind over and over again, the kissing, the first fight, the sex, the fights reprise, the look on his face when you told him to leave. It was miserable. You were miserable. So miserable you couldn’t even bear the thought of completing solo, night and orgasm both ruined all because of some thirty year old ego trip. It wasn’t fair, why couldn’t you have your cake and eat it too? Surely he was sleeping with other people in the department. He was definitely picking up women on the nights he was out of town, or in town but not with you. Right? Surely he wasn’t just sleeping with you. Although , he hadn’t ever mentioned seeing anyone else. When you and Aki had started sleeping together, you had told Kishibe that you were seeing someone else purely from an informative, healthy sexuality practice place, not as a brag or as a confession. And he had yet to do the same. You had just assumed he was private about this sort of thing. He had asked that you remain discreet. Or wait…it was you who had mentioned keeping things quiet between the two of you. But he had agreed.

You sighed into the sheet fabric. Work was going to be awful tomorrow. In any other job you would have called in and avoided the situation completely. Devil hunting didn’t offer the luxury. Usually your work day after a sexual encounter would be one of your easier days x the post course bliss leaving you relaxed and affable, flirtatious glances fueling your hours until it was time to go back home for the weekend. You had planned to call and talk to Aki tomorrow, inviting him over this weekend, but it felt strange to do so now. Everything felt strange now.

You rolled onto your back looking up at the ceiling, praying sleep would win over your troubled mind soon.

At some point it had. Because when your alarm clock sounded, you woke up alone.

You sat inside your shared office for three; Kobeni’s desk, your own, and one desk currently unoccupied, although it had been home to two or three devil hunters you had met over the last year. All of whom were now in the ground. All you wanted was to get through the day, keep your head down, and hopefully not be assigned to leave the building with either of your current fixations. There was some truth to the old adage of not “shitting where you eat”, you were finding.

Kobeni worked quietly at her desk across from you, her big brown eyes frantically searching over her latest report, checking carefully for any mistakes. Soon she would ask you to read over it, to then revise it and have you read it again. Usually you wouldn’t mind double checking her work, but today you could already feel your shoulders tensing up in annoyance. You had your own report to work on, you had your own stressors today, you didn’t have the mental capacity to share hers.

You focused on your own report in front of you, circling miss types and rebooting down data that had previously been correct, but was now outdated. A brown paper to go coffee cup clunked down onto your desk. You followed the gifting hand up the black suit jacket sleeve and found Aki Hayakawa standing above you. His navy eyes were warm and still as they looked down at you. His face was as neutral as it always was, but you had learned to recognize the light shimmer of excitement in his eyes when he looked at you. Usually it made your knees weak, but now it just made your heart ache. He was so handsome, his skin was smooth and dewy, his features were angular and well proportioned. He had his hair pulled back, as always, his bangs hanging freely in his face. You already knew how it felt to run your fingers through his dark tresses, how his lips felt against yours, plump and full, his taste, his smell, the sound of him in ecstasy.

But this, this exchange of coffee in your workplace after the events of last night, you felt embarrassed. No, not embarrassed, guilty. His intense, focused gaze that you had started to covet now had you feeling hot and anxious.

“If it’s…not right, I can drink it instead.” He broke up your spiral, you saw the shift in his eyes, he looked nervous himself.

“No, t-thank you.” You took a sip of the steaming drink.

It was perfect, bitter and dark with just a touch of vanilla. He had paid attention to you making it in the morning, he had paid attention to everything. You saw him smile briefly. He looked through the side of his eye at Kobeni, then back at you, turning his body away from her, leaning in conspiratorially.

Aki cleared his throat before speaking in a low, barely audible voice, “could I-uh…”

His eyes flashed backward briefly, again lowering his voice further, “could I maybe, see you tonight?”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and sympathetic.

“Uh…”

“I’m going to…uh….i have to…um…go?” Kobeni stood up suddenly, paper crinkling in her hand and left the room, a tornado in her wake.

You stood up to meet Hayakawa, meeting the line of his broad shoulders. You had to turn your face upward to look him in the eye. He was so tall, so handsome, so kind, and looking at you so gently.

“I would really like to see you tonight.” His voice was smooth and low, he reached for your hand, brushing the back of your palm with his thumb.

Your breath was becoming thicker, his hand in yours felt so right, his long, slender fingers interlocked with yours. His shirt was clean and crisp, you could smell his detergent, and his cologne, he always smelled good. He was too good.

“Aki….”, you tried your hardest to resist swooning against him, “I don’t know…do you think we’re moving a little fast?”

“Too fast?” He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of your hand softly, “it was just a cup of coffee, I can throw it out if you’d like?”

You laughed a bit, rolling your eyes playfully, “it’s not the coffee, Aki. Thank you, it’s perfect. You’re sweet. But don’t you worry about getting too involved with me.”

He raised his thin eyebrows, “why should I be worried about that?”

Your breath shuddered as he kissed your hand again. His dark blue eyes were nearly all iris as he watched you. He wanted to be kissing you instead, but he could settle for the feeling of your skin. Hayakawa’s mind was rerunning your last encounter for him. Just last night he had recollected the feeling of your body on his from the previous week; how he had kissed your neck, his face against your breasts, reveling in the memory of your mouth on his cock as he had stroked himself. His fingers traveled up your wrist, moving in a circle around the bones and joints, starting to migrate upwards.

“Aki…”you moaned lightly, “we can’t do this here.”

“Then let me come over tonight.” He moved your hand back down to your desk, you’re finally able to breathe out and catch your breath, “please.”

He was already winning you over. After last night’s nightmare you were so flattered to have him fawn over you like this, for him to be so upfront with his desire for you. Your fingers curled around the still-warm coffee cup, the gesture melting the lingering ice of your heart. You nodded slowly.

“Come over tonight.” You leaned in closer to him, your chests nearly touching.

Aki smiled above you and nodded obediently.

“I need to pull away now, or else I’m going to kiss you.” He said, not yet pulling away.

“Sounds like you should.” You flirted staying just. A few centimeters from his lips on yours, “it would be terrible to be caught like this.”

Aki’s eyes scanned you over and over, moving frantically between your eyes and your mouth. Just as he started to lean in a hair or two there came a knock on the frame of the office door. You quickly pulled away and sat back down at your desk. He straightened his already straight tie and turned back around to face the door.

“Captain!” Aki stood at his full height, back straight as an arrow, “Good morning, sir.”

Your eyes blew open, looking up at Kishibe standing in your office doorway.

When did your office become so popular?

The muscle in Kishibe's jaw emerged tightly, and although you couldn't from across the room, you would have sworn you could hear his molars crushing against one another. The vein in his forehead threatening to burst all over the pair of you.

“Hayakawa.” Kishibe greeted sternly, “Good morning.”

“Good morning Captain.” You followed up, raising to your feet respectfully.

Your palms were wet with sweat, your pulse was beating out of your neck, your knees were trembling.

This was bad. What had he seen? We haven't even kissed yet, he couldn’t have seen anything. What did he think he had seen?

“Good morning.” Kishibe addressed you then looked back to Aki, “Hayakawa, don’t you have your own office?”

Hayakawa was unaware of the reason for Kishibe’s nastiness toward him, but he also didn't know any better than to just assume it was the mentor’s usual bad mood, “Yes sir. I was just stopping by to say good morning to Higayashiyama and---”

“Where has Kobeni gone?” Kishibe interrupted.

“She’s turning in her weekly numbers.” You answered, “You just missed her.”

Kishibe thought about what to do next, squinting at the boy, sizing him up. He supposed he could see what you were attracted to, Hayakawa was a handsome guy. Tall, not as tall as himself, lanky but still carried a reformed build, big hands, big eyes, dumb little ponytail, but he guessed the long hair was probably a draw for you. At one time Aki had reminded Kishibe of himself; determined, deadly, confident. At the current moment all Kishibe wanted to do was take the younger man's long, thin neck in his hands, choke him until he passed out and take you right here in front of him. But he got another idea instead.

KIshibe entered the room a few more steps, leaving the doorway open.

“Hayakawa, mind leaving us to talk?” He tipped his head down toward you as he spoke, not really looking at the man he was instructing.

Aki hesitated slightly before looking at the pair of you and nodding, “Yes sir.”

You caught his eyes as he bowed and left, he looked a bit confused, but not nearly as much as he should have been. You liked Aki, he was an observant guy, but was failing to pick up on the subtext of the moment, the dramatic irony of it all was killing you.

“Shut the door behind you.” Kishibe added, still looking down at you.

The door clicked and Kishibe relaxed slightly, turning his gaze to your cluttered, busy desk. He plucked the coffee cup from the mess, the impression of your lipstick still clung to the lid.

“He bring you this?” he asked, turning it side to side in his hand, examining.

“Yes.”

Kishibe brought it to his mouth and took a long sip, humming as he set it back down, “Kid pays attention.”

You crossed your arms, “This attitude isn't helping you out of the dog house.”

“You kicked me out last night and then I found you in here sucking face less than ten hours later, and I'm not allowed to have a reaction to that?” He tutted.

“We were not sucking face,” you hated how whiney your voice was coming out, you felt so adolescent angry with this whole situation, you could barely take yourself seriously, “He brought me coffee and asked to see me tonight. Which is more than you ever do.”

Kishibe put his finger in your face, “That. That right there is what I don’t fucking like.”

“What?”

“I’m not competing with this kid for you. So don’t throw around gestures like points, I don’t want to be playing some stupid game for who you like best or who is falling out of your favor. I fucking knew it, you’re too analytical not to be keeping score.” he moved to the office door and locked it, looking briefly out the small window to see no one in the hall.

“I-I dont do that…”

You did do that. You could already hear your voice from last night quantifying their treatments of you and weighing them against one another. He was right, it wasn’t fair for you to make them unknowing adversaries.

“Yes you do. And when I tried to play into your little competition, you got all upset and kicked me out. So maybe I'm not the only one who needs to figure out what they want from this.” He sighed out taking a seat in the unoccupied desk’s chair across from you. “Are you seeing him tonight?”

You sat in your chair, collapsed more like, your head falling back against the headrest, “Yes. No. Maybe…I don’t know, Kishi.”

You took your hands and rubbed your temples, when had this all become so messy. Your eyes were closed but you heard Kishibe roll his chair over to you. His larger hands took over rubbing the sides of your head. The pressure of his fingers was perfect, you could smell the smoke from his cigarettes clinging to his clothes, you let out a sigh.

“I came in here to apologize for last night. I know I acted like an asshole. And I just acted like an asshole again. I don’t like seeing you with him, it makes me…jealous. He’s a good kid, probably better for you than I am.”

You opened your eyes to find him not looking right at you, but looking over the top of your head. He was confessing his feelings to the back wall of your office, instead of to you. You watched his mouth carefully as he spoke, his famous scar bending and tugging as the words left him.

“I don’t want to compete with him, because I don’t think I'll win.”

Your heart pulled hard, bringing your throat down with it. You reached for his face, your fingertips brushing his jaw and bringing his eyes back down to you.

“Kishi…” you were so moved by his vulnerability. You knew it didn't come naturally to him, he was a sensitive man but not one to show it freely.

He leaned into your touch slightly, removing his own hands from your head and placing them on the tops of your thighs. You stroked his thumb across his cheek, feeling the subtle texture of his skin under the pad. He took in a breath, trying to steady himself for his next admission. His usually rough and even voice was softer.

“I can’t stand in the way of what you want. It wouldn't be right. But you asked me what I wanted, and I want you. And if you want him too, I can accept that. I like what we have, I don’t want to ruin it by making you choose.”

You were shocked. You were delighted. You felt guilty. You felt elated. You were confused. All the feelings washed over you at once, he was offering you everything you had wanted. You could keep seeing him and keep seeing Aki, but you felt your heart tugging at his dark circled eyes. He hadn't slept last night, clearly agonizing over your fight, thinking about what he wanted and what you wanted. He was leaning over to meet your eye line, his hands still on your legs, waiting patiently for your response. You opened your mouth to answer him when there was a knock at the door. Kishibe retreated from you, pushing his chair back to the desk and standing up. You stood as well, walking to unlock the door. Kobeni stood outside, white knuckling her new freshly printed report.

“Sorry! I just need my…”She trailed off seeing Kishibe in the room, adjusting his coat, “Oh! Captain, hello.”

Her mind raced behind her frantic eyes as she realized she had just interrupted you and your kind of boyfriend, her own superior, alone in a locked office. Her skin went cold, heart pounding out of her chest.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn't.. I just want..I’ll go..” before you could stop her she had turned on her heels and raced down the hallway again.

You sighed against the doorframe, “I feel bad, this is her office too and I’m kind of treating it like a speed dating booth today.”

Kishibe chuckled behind you.

You turned to face him and took a few steps forward, “You’re sure?”

He nodded, “About you, I’m sure.”

You smiled, relief flooding your body, balming over the lingering frustration of last night. You stole a glance at the open door, seeing no one, you crossed toward him and wrapped your arms around his middle. He returned your hug, smoothing your hair.

“Can I see you this weekend? Make up for last night?” Your ear was pressed to his chest so his voice reverberated from there as he spoke.

You nodded into his shirt, his smell coaxing you into a calm that only he could. Kishibe brought one hand to your face, turning it up to look at him.

“Call me when you’re free. I’ll make the time.” He assured you before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

Feeling his lips again sent glitter down your bloodstream, sparkles of elation fueling your heart to race and your skin to warm. After a moment or two he pulled away, the soft sound of lips leaving each other filled the empty office for a single second. You released him and stepped back.

“Alright, Kid. I’ve been late to my next meeting this whole time, so I do have to go. But I’ll see you later.” He smirked on his scarred side and moved toward the door.

“See you.” You smiled watching him leave and sat back at your desk.

The satisfaction of getting exactly what you wanted shifted in your stomach, curdling slightly as you picked up Aki’s gifted coffee cup. You would see him tonight, should you tell him? He deserved to know what else was going on, but you may not be able to handle another fight about your sexual exploits.

What were you going to do?

Aki figured your meeting with the Captain couldn't have lasted more than the thirty or so minutes he had been gone. He wanted to finalize your plans for the night, he was thinking about what he should cook for you, if he had time between work and meeting you to run by the supermarket and take a shower. Running the potential schedule over and over in his mind while walking back toward your office he watched Kobeni run from the door just as she had when he arrived. Stalling his movements lightly, he approached carefully. He could hear your voice, but not make out the words quiet yet. Carrying on his steps were quiet as they neared the open office door. Slowly, he peeked his head in, just in time to see you wrap yourself around Kishibe, the taller man leaning down to kiss you. His breath caught as he watched you kiss him back. He stayed watching until Kishibe pulled away, those dark eyes flicking up to meet his own. He had seen him. The two men looked at one another for a moment, now both informed of exactly what had been going on. He watched as KIshibe’s hand moved over the back of your head, smoothing your hair, his lips curling into a small smile still eye locked with Aki. Hayakawa was the first one to break the exchange, turning and walking down the hallway, his hand brushing over his face and rushing into the mens room.

What the fuck. What the FUCK. What the fuck.

Millions of questions flooded Aki’s mind:

How long has this been going on? Why didn’t he say anything to you? Why haven't you told him? Had you told him and he just didn’t put it together? Why had Kishibe looked at him like that? And the most pressing question of all.

Why was he so fucking hard?

Part 2

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