Chapter Text
Tiny, local diners are better than expensive big-name restaurants.
Now, this is simply a conclusion Karma has come to himself. Call it an opinion if you’d like, but it’s definitely more than that. Maybe a nationwide poll would prove him wrong, but Nagisa agrees, and that’s all that matters in the long run, isn’t it? Okay, maybe a hitman agreeing with him on something isn’t the best thing in the world, depending on the situation, but no one’s talking about whether or not someone deserves death (although, Karma wouldn’t mind discussing that, if it means more time spent watching those beautiful lips move).
It is in a tiny, local diner where they sit currently. There are no security cameras. They don’t even have a computerized cash register. When they’d walked in, Nagisa had joked that it felt like Karma researched these kinds of things. Karma had replied, again, with only a smirk, and Nagisa’s expression, again, was the little ‘o’ of his lips.
They sit across from each other at a table that feels like it’ll fall apart at any moment. Karma mentions that the pizzas here are surprisingly good for such a quaint little place, and Nagisa shows eagerness to try it, so that’s what they order. They chat and watch a controversial news network on the small television by the cash register and make fun of the anchors. Karma convinces Nagisa to share a shake with him. Overall, it feels very much like a date. Perhaps the fact that a date with a hitman has gone better than any and all dates Karma has been on previously in his life is a sign that he needs to sort through his standards.
Or maybe the destined best-date-of-his-life has always been Nagisa, who just happens to be a hitman.
Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.
Karma gives Nagisa his phone to look up motels in the area while he gets gas, since he has to go in and pay cash. When his tank is full and he’s back behind the wheel, Nagisa points out a motel that’s dead-set in the middle of nowhere. It’s about a forty-five minute back-roads drive from where they are now, and the only buildings near it are a tiny grocery store and a tiny liquor store, which share the same lot. It has an indoor pool and free wifi, which, according to Karma, is his checklist for when he’s away from home. Nagisa can’t seem to tell whether or not he’s joking. He is, but it’s more fun to keep Nagisa guessing. He is Karma Akabane, Chairman of Akabane Enterprises (famous for its, like, everything) by day, Enigma to Nagisa the Hitman by night.
The motel is definitely small, to say the least. Nagisa waits in the car while Karma goes in and pays for a room—he jokes with the old lady behind the desk that his car is so unreliable, and how it’s just like him to get lost on top of that. She smiles sympathetically and pats his hand when she passes him the key to the room. He and Nagisa poke their heads in to look at the pool before they open up the room; it’s surprisingly nice for the motel’s size.
It’s the inside of the room that reminds them of the quality of the place they’d be hiding out. The single bed is probably a double, and even so, there’s only just enough room for the bed, a tiny box television that’s smaller than Karma’s laptop screen, and a luggage stand propped against the wall. The bathroom is just as cramped: there’s room between the stall shower, toilet, and sink to do a little twirl, but not much more than that.
Luckily, it isn’t like they have any luggage to take up space, so that’s one less thing they have to worry about. Karma tosses himself onto the mattress, which sags under his weight but, surprisingly, doesn’t creak. He bounces a little.
“It could be worse,” he says. “What if it didn’t have a pool? How could I fall asleep knowing there isn’t hundreds of gallons of chlorinated water under the same roof?”
“You’re not even the least bit worried about sleeping arrangements?” Nagisa asks, suspiciously looking over the mattress. “There… isn’t that much room.”
Karma waves a hand dismissively. “So what? We just spent almost three hours in close quarters. We’re on the run from the same cops, right? Sharing a bed’s no big deal.”
“I’m so sorry about that,” Nagisa says, for the millionth time of the night. “I didn’t want to get anyone else involved, I really didn’t, especially not someone as important as you.”
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended that you don’t want to be on the run from the cops with me,” Karma remarks, which earns him a light smack to the back of his head and a laugh from Nagisa.
Nagisa, who is currently unzipping his vest and unfastening his belt. When he places them carefully on the luggage rack, the yellowish lamplight does a wonderful job showing just how tight the long sleeved shirt Nagisa wears is. Nagisa’s next move is—good lord, he’s definitely taking off his pants right now, yup.
Heaven help him, Nagisa’s definitely absolutely wearing short-shorts and thigh highs under his cargo pants.
It takes more willpower than Karma ever believed he had to keep himself from staring outright, and even then, it’s very, very difficult.
Nagisa sighs, as if a load was taken off his shoulders, and judging by the thickness of that vest, that probably isn’t far from the truth. He closes himself in the bathroom, and Karma takes the opportunity to quickly strip off his coat, jacket, and belt. He’s in the middle of loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt when Nagisa emerges, sees Karma, and promptly goes red in the face. Okay, so the attraction is mutual. Good to know. Karma raises an eyebrow in amusement at the current shade of Nagisa’s face.
“Everything okay?” he asks, pulling his tie by one end from under his collar.
Nagisa swallows and pointedly averts his gaze. “F-fine!” he says, much louder than necessary. He practically throws himself underneath the blankets. His voice is muffled when he adds, “I’m going to sleep.”
Karma finishes unbuttoning his shirt and tosses it with the rest of his things, sliding under the blankets alongside Nagisa. In this position, it is much more obvious how different their body types are. Nagisa is slender and lithe, an unassuming form, one that would make none suspicious at first sight. It’s obvious how easy it must have been to throw himself into Karma’s window. Karma, while still fairly narrow compared to average, is broader in most aspects than Nagisa, and much taller.
“Jeez, how do you sleep at night when you’re so busy being a giant ?” Nagisa mutters, tugging at the blankets.
“I’m not giant, you’re just tiny,” Karma says.
“I literally killed someone today,” Nagisa says. “And you’re calling me tiny. ”
“In stature, not in presence,” Karma amends. “By the way, why’d you kill him?”
Nagisa turns his head, glancing at Karma over his shoulder. He sighs, then turns his body completely so he’s on his side, facing Karma. “You’ve probably figured out that I’m an assassin already, so why are you asking?”
“I was mentally using the term ‘hitman,’” Karma mentions.
“Well, they’re sort of the same thing,” Nagisa says. “But hitmen are cheaper, and they have less standards. They do the easy, grunt work, y’know? Hitmen handle the petty jobs, like ‘this guy had sex with my wife.’ Assassins are a little more… elegant.”
“How did you kill him?”
“Why are you so eager to talk about murder right before bed?” Nagisa huffs. He’s silent for a few moments, then says, “Sodium cyanide. If you had to know.”
“Impressive,” Karma says. Then he pokes Nagisa’s chest. “How’d the police get involved?”
Nagisa snorts. “I set off the alarm in the gift shop of the hotel on the way out. Fun fact: some hotels don’t use cages to close off their gift shops, they just have motion sensors.” He sighs. “Never taking a shortcut I didn’t verify again.”
“‘Assassins are a little more elegant, ’” Karma quotes, grinning in the dark.
In an instant, Nagisa is on top of Karma, knees on either side of his hips and forearm pressed to his throat. The look in his eyes is nothing but predatory, as is the upward quirk of his lips. “We all make mistakes,” he whispers, breath hot on Karma’s lips.
“I hope this isn’t one,” Karma murmurs, and kisses him.
It’s expected, and apparently looked forward to, because there’s absolutely no hesitance in Nagisa’s kiss. He shifts to hold Karma’s face in his hands, pressing himself completely against Karma, who rocks his hips upward experimentally in response. Nagisa hums pleasantly, hand moving down to traces his jugular, touches featherlight. Karma reaches up, one hand settling on the small of Nagisa’s back and the other cradling his cheek, holding back some of his bangs. It is at this moment that Karma rolls them over just as quickly as Nagisa had moved before. Nagisa yelps, then glowers at the man that’s now atop him. Karma simply grins.
“You cover me completely,” Nagisa grumbles, adjusting his legs. “I could use you as a blanket, if your dick wasn’t stabbing me in the leg.”
Karma props himself on his elbows, frowning down at Nagisa. “This is your fault, you know. And you speak like you’re any better.”
“Shut up! This is your fault!”
“I guess I have to take responsibility, huh?” Karma’s voice is devilish as he reaches a hand between them.
Unfortunately, it’s grabbed by Nagisa, whose expression actually reveals a little bit of nervousness. “Wait, wait, hold on, Karma,” he chokes out, more breath than voice. “Let’s—can we just—is it okay if, um, we don’t actually, y’know…”
Karma pauses, sitting back on his heels to give him space. “Are you okay? I’m sorry if I did somethi—”
“No no no, no, trust me, you absolutely didn’t!” Nagisa gasps, and he grinds his hips up against Karma’s as if for emphasis. “I promise. I just, um, can we not go… all the way?”
“That’s fine, Nagisa,” Karma says, “but can I touch your dick or not, because I’m getting a little antsy here.”
“Oh! Yeah, yeah, dick touching is more than okay,” Nagisa agrees, sitting up with Karma to unfasten his slacks for him. Karma hisses out a breath when Nagisa pulls him from his boxers, leaning forward to kiss him again. This kiss is more intense than the last, all teeth and tongue. Nagisa withdraws his legs from beneath Karma, then practically chirps when Karma lifts him by the waist to set him over his lap to straddle it. A hand traces the top of one of Nagisa’s thigh highs, the other reaching down his shorts (and isn’t stopped this time). Nagisa sucks in a sharp breath and lets it out shakily. Karma watches his throat as he swallows.
Nagisa rocks his whole body forward, releasing a quiet sound when his hot length touches Karma’s own. It’s good to know this feeling is mutual, because it makes it a little less embarrassing how quickly Karma spit into his hand to wrap it around their cocks. His free hand goes to Nagisa’s hair. After a nod from Nagisa, he pulls the hairties out, letting blue locks fall across his shoulders. Karma grips the back of it to pull back his head so he can pepper Nagisa’s neck with nips and kisses. At this point, they’re both moving together in earnest, Karma rolling his hips up and Nagisa grinding his down. The rhythm itself is uneven but feels perfect. Although, the sight of the assassin as a desperate, panting mess definitely doesn’t hurt, either.
“K-Karma, I— fuck, I’m—” Nagisa places a hand over Karma’s own, tightening his grip, and wraps the other around Karma’s shoulders. He says something else, indistinct among breathy curses and chants of Karma’s name, before his back arches and he spills over their stomachs.
Karma isn’t doing any better, muttering, “Nagisa, Nagisa, Nagisa, ” like a prayer between the bites he trails along his throat. The feeling of Nagisa pulsing under his palm is really what gets him, what has him coming undone with a moan from deep in his chest. He draws back his head and gently guides Nagisa’s forward to kiss him, pumping his hand until he’s certain they’re both completely spent.
They rest their foreheads together as they catch their breath. Every now and then, Nagisa will peck his lips, smiling, and he is way too cute to be an assassin.
(Well, Karma has never really set any standards for how cute assassins should be, but to be honest, Nagisa is too cute to exist, basically, so the whole ‘assassin’ part doesn’t make too much of a difference. It just makes for a better excuse.)
Nagisa moves back, to Karma’s dismay, and pushes himself to his feet. He pads wordlessly over to the bathroom, then says, “Oh, gross. I have jizz all over my stomach.”
“That was the worst post-sex one-liner I’ve ever heard in my life,” Karma scoffs.
The faucet turns on, and something splashes under it. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was being judged. Can I try again?”
“It’s too late, you’ve used it up. Gotta wait ‘til next time.”
“I was going to change it to, ‘Hey Karma, your gross jizz is all over my stomach.’”
“Not all of that is mine, you know,” Karma complains. “Who was it that came first again? Under my skilled hands and lips?”
A damp washcloth hits him directly in the face. Karma laughs, wiping off his stomach and hands before throwing it back toward Nagisa, who doesn’t even catch it, just bats it in midair into the bathroom. He walks back to the bed, shuffling on his knees to Karma, wrapping his arms around him, and pulling them both so they fall onto the pillows. Karma lets himself be arranged so that he’s sort of on his side, with Nagisa’s head on his chest and their legs tangled together. Nagisa’s fingers trace little patterns on Karma’s collarbone, and he hums at the touch.
“Are you going to be here in the morning?” Karma asks, running his hand through Nagisa’s hair.
Nagisa leans into the touch. “Well, yeah. You’re better at running from the cops than I am, and I have a lot of experience.”
“Aw, is that the only reason? I thought my charms and beautiful hands had something to do with it.”
“Maybe. I’m trying to stay on the business side of things.”
“You moaned louder than I did.”
“That has nothing to do with my business sense.”
“I’m just saying that a good, elegant assassin might be more mindful of his neighbors.”
Silence. “I’m too tired to match your quick wits. You win this round, Akabane. Don’t call the cops while I’m asleep.”
Karma kisses the top of Nagisa’s head, and the assassin burrows closer. “Hold on, before you sleep, I want to let you know that I’m driving toward the beach.”
This catches Nagisa’s attention. He lifts his head groggily. “What?”
“I got the family beach house after my parents died. Inheritance, and all that. That’s where I’m driving.”
“Hm.” He settles again. Karma feels his eyelashes flutter when he closes his eyes again. “I’ve never had a destination before. It’s nice.”
Before he can agree, Nagisa’s breath has already fallen steady with sleep.
For the first time in years, Karma isn’t reluctant to wake up in the morning. Yes, he’s in a cheap motel in the middle of nowhere with an established assassin, but the motel has a pool and free wifi, the middle of nowhere is prettier than the city, and his established assassin is warm and wonderful. Maybe he’ll use all of those vacation days that he’s built up over the years. Nagisa’s already smashed his routine to pieces. Karma will have to make him take responsibility, and he’ll be sure to make Nagisa a part of his new one.
If Nagisa is in it, Karma thinks, a routine wouldn’t be so bad at all.