The One Where It's A Spy AU, 2/3

[astrangestorm]

The One Where Aiba’s In It To Win It

Nino was loitering on the pool deck waiting for him as Aiba emerged from the locker room clad in his wetsuit and swim cap. He moved toward the bleachers, beginning his stretches as Nino came over to him.

“Phase one is complete,” Nino said, a tinge of wickedness in his tone.

Aiba took a deep breath, knowing this was his last chance to turn back and be a decent human being. Today was the Annual IJU Triathlon, which took place at headquarters. The event was open to all employees male and female, no matter your rank. Even a few members of the janitorial staff participated every year. In a modified version of Olympic triathlons, they swam first, using the agency’s Olympic-sized pool to complete a 1,500 meter swim.

From there they changed into cycling clothes and ran from the pool deck (carefully) outside to the track that circled the perimeter of headquarters. From there it was a 40 kilometer bike race and then a transition to the running track back inside the IJU’s gymnasium facilities. Participants then finished the triathlon with a 10 kilometer run.

Aiba had been participating in the triathlon every year since he’d joined, usually finishing in the top ten, if not the top five. He was one of the fastest runners, but cycling wasn’t his strong suit. He didn’t usually care much about coming in first anyhow, since it was fun to simply compete with his colleagues and have a good time. But this year things would be a bit different because for the very first time, Aiba had issued a challenge and he had no choice but to keep to his word.

For the last week, he’d been sending taunting emails to Matsumoto Jun, although Nino had been helping him with phrasing. “Telling Jun-kun that you’re going to kick his butt is so pedestrian,” Nino had complained, retyping Aiba’s email to instead threaten to drown Jun in the pool. Aiba had talked him down from threatening murder, merely changing his original email from kicking Jun’s “butt” to kicking his “ass,” which Aiba found to be a more satisfactory taunt.

Jun had of course responded in kind to every single email with increasingly angry pictures that he’d copied and pasted from a Google Image Search. In one of them, there’d been a man on a bike that was on fire and later in the week Jun had sent along a picture of American swimmer Michael Phelps. Jun had simply captioned the swimmer and all his medals as “What you’re up against!!!!”

After declaring war on Jun during the holiday brownie contest, Aiba knew he had to step up his game. Unfortunately for Aiba, who preferred to avoid drama and to always play fairly, Nino had explained that Aiba had to break the rules. He’d been nervous all week, doing laps in the pool in between his clandestine meetings with Ohno in Roppongi Hills. Even Ohno thought that Aiba would have to cheat a bit just to make progress with Jun. He really needed to stop surrounding himself with these rule-bending type of friends.

Nino had initially suggested that they put itching powder in Jun’s wetsuit. Aiba had refused. Then Ohno had suggested that Aiba have some of the air in Jun’s bike tires let out so he’d have a flat by the end of the race. Aiba had been against that bit of cheating as well. Instead he had asked Nino to simply slow Jun down. When Jun changed from his wetsuit to his cycling clothes, Nino would ensure that Jun’s custom-ordered, sweat-wicking biking socks were misplaced. And then when Jun went past the supporters holding out cups of water, Nino was going to ensure that Jun would be handed a cup of incredibly bitter tea instead.

So nothing that was really going to hurt him. Just little things that might annoy him, and an annoyed Matsumoto Jun was not the type of Matsumoto Jun who was going to win the IJU triathlon. Aiba wasn’t aiming to win, but he was aiming to beat Jun’s time and then, much as he wasn’t looking forward to it, he was going to rub it in Jun’s face.

Because of the number of participants, the contest was run in waves, with the first batch of swimmers going first and then starting the cycling race on the track before the second batch. Aiba was in the second batch, and thanks to his friend Kazama in IT who helped organize the competition every year, Aiba had ensured that Matsumoto Jun was placed in the same group.

As the first wave of contestants dove into the pool, the cheers of IJU staff and officers echoing throughout the natatorium, Matsumoto came strolling over in his wonderfully tight wetsuit. It showed off his body quite nicely, his broad chest and shoulders, his narrow waist and long legs. Aiba had to remind himself that his goal was to defeat Jun today, not ogle him like a piece of meat. Nino made a quick exit, undoubtedly off to sneak around the locker room in hopes of hiding Jun’s stupid socks. After all, in an agency full of super spies nobody would expect the gadget guy to be up to no good.

“Aiba-san.”

“Matsumoto-san,” Aiba said in his meanest voice, although Ohno always said that his mean voice was about as scary as the easily defeated villain of the week on a kids’ tokusatsu program.

“Prepare to be destroyed.”

Aiba held in a giggle, doing his best to keep a straight face. “Maybe I should do the triathlon with one arm tied behind my back, just to keep things fair.”

He saw Jun’s nostrils flare in anger, but there was no time for him to offer a rebuttal because Vice-Director Sakamoto was announcing that it was time for the contestants in the second wave to make their way over to the pool. Aiba had been placed a few spots down the line from Jun, and he watched the participants in the first group finish their swims, IJU employees slowly poking up out of the water and hoisting themselves up. As they hurried for the locker room, Aiba looked over and saw that Nino had already emerged. Aiba watched him toss a balled up pair of socks, presumably Jun’s, into the garbage can next to the locker room door, smoothly moving aside as the triathletes hurried to change.

Soon enough it was Aiba’s turn and back and forth he went, up and down the length of the pool, aiming for speed but not pressing himself too hard. The cycling was going to be tiring enough and he needed to keep most of his stamina for the final running portion. Jun was already out of the pool when Aiba emerged, but he made up the time upon getting into the locker room.

He was on the other side, could hear Jun punching lockers angrily. “Which one of you jerks took my socks? Where’s Aiba? Aiba-san, what did you do with my socks?”

One of the other contestants on the same side of the lockers as Aiba looked like he wanted to say something, but Aiba only put his finger to his lips and pretended to ssh him. The other guy, confused, simply went back to changing his clothes. Stripped out of his wetsuit and into his biking shirt and shorts, he jogged around and saw Jun trying to pull on his own shorts, having apparently given in and wearing the regular socks he’d been planning to wear for the run. It wasn’t like Aiba expected him to get a bunch of blisters by having bare feet inside his biking shoes. He wasn’t that mean (though Nino made fun of him for it).

He got to his bike quickly, and it was rather cold outside. As some of the cyclists came around, he could see how chilled they were. But Aiba had done this before and he started pedaling, knowing that his body would warm up by the third or fourth time he came around the track. After the first few turns, pedaling hard to make better time, he’d been a gear higher than usual. But when he tried to shift down to an easier gear, it jammed.

Grumbling, he kept trying to twist the thing, toddling a little as he rounded a curve. Moments later Matsumoto Jun in his not-really-meant-for-biking socks came flying around the corner. “You suck!” Jun’s voice howled into the chilly winter air, and Aiba knew that he’d been sabotaged. He’d have to finish the entire race in a higher gear. His legs were not going to be pleased when it came time for the foot race, and he had the conniving Matsumoto Jun to thank. He could already hear Nino’s voice in his head. “Should have dumped his bike shorts in the trash, not his damn socks!” Nino was blabbing.

Despite the broken gear, Aiba finished the cycling portion two and a half minutes behind Jun - a large gap for some, but not a large gap for Aiba Masaki, the IJU’s King of Speed. In the changing room, he quickly exchanged his biking shorts for running shorts, lacing up his lightweight running shoes. Once he entered the gym, taking a cup of water from Nino’s outstretched hand, he received a curt nod. Jun had definitely been given the bitter tea.

Tired as he was from the first two stages, and knowing he was probably going to be cramping the rest of the week if not longer, Aiba quickly worked his way up to his full speed. He came around the curve of the running track a few minutes later, seeing that Jun was running with a sour look on his face, having been offered a rather nasty refreshment.

“You suck!” Aiba hollered childishly as he passed Jun and never let him get ahead of him again.

When he got to the finish line, he could see that he wasn’t the first to arrive, and Jun came jogging up only twenty-five seconds after him, huffing and puffing since he’d clearly overexerted himself to try and catch Aiba and his long, speedy legs. Before anyone could congratulate Jun on a race well run, he went over to the bleachers and just laid down, grumbling to himself.

Aiba, calf muscles and thigh muscles and every other set of muscles throbbing, settled for the arrival of Nino and his tender loving care, which just consisted of him shoving a huge bottle of water into Aiba’s hand and commanding him to drink.

“He broke my bike,” Aiba wheezed, nearly bent in half as he tried to catch his breath.

“Told you to drown him,” Nino complained, looking over in Matsumoto’s direction. He was already surrounded by his adoring fans, all the younger junior officers that he trained. Two of them were fanning him while another was standing guard, presumably so Jun (with his tired legs in his short jogging shorts spread wide) wouldn’t accidentally show anyone his balls.

“I really don’t think I need to do anything else. I already beat him,” Aiba pointed out, having a nice long sip of water, grateful it wasn’t bitter tea.

“He cheated as much as you did. More, in fact,” Nino said. “Now get over there and tell him a grandma with two hip replacements could have beaten him. Go!”

To punctuate his insistence, Nino gave him a rather rough shove. The water bottle nearly toppled from his hand and he held on tight, somehow managing to make his rubbery legs move. Upon approaching, Jun’s legion of loving kohai gave Aiba uncertain looks. Because, after all, Aiba had never been mean to them before but at the same time, he repeatedly kicked Jun’s ass. Would their loyalty win out?

“Leave me alone,” Jun said wearily, and Aiba wasn’t too sure if it was directed at him or his fanboys.

Gathering his courage, he tried to channel his best inner Nino. The fanning kohai scattered, allowing Aiba to peer over the bleacher and down to Jun, who was lying on his back staring up at the ceiling in disbelief.

“Hmm, amazing how poorly you performed given your…advantages.” Aiba crossed his arms, trying to look haughty. “You could say that you were ‘geared up’ for a total victory and still pissed it all away.”

Jun covered his face, groaning.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you.”

Jun didn’t move his hand away, but his voice was clearer when he spoke again. “Those socks cost 69,000 yen.”

“Are you serious?”

Jun’s voice was a bit pathetic, though Aiba was amazed he could talk at all given how tired he seemed. “They were custom molded to my feet. And the final stitching is done by these little old ladies in Austria. They only make like, twenty-five pairs a year, and mostly for…” Jun moved his hand away from his face, rubbing at an obvious sore spot on his calf. “Mostly for Tour de France participants.”

Aiba kind of wanted to run back down to the pool and grab Jun’s stupid expensive socks out of the garbage and hand them over with an apology, but he knew that would be caving in. And Nino would never let him live it down. “Sucks to be you then!” he said quickly, hurrying away before Jun could say anything else.

He tugged Nino by his sleeve, yanking him down the track and out of earshot. “Nino,” Aiba said as soon as he knew Jun couldn’t hear him, “we have to make sure those socks turn up in the lost and found.” Aiba’s ability to be cruel still needed work, but he was fine with that.

When Aiba told Nino how much they cost, Nino’s astonished laughter echoed throughout IJU headquarters.



The One Where Aiba Handles Ohno

When it came to deep cover, the IJU’s willingness to provide its agents with decent accommodations or safe houses definitely came down to how much they liked you. Ohno Satoshi, who had the overly ambitious and terribly dangerous task of taking out IJU’s mortal enemy EVIL Inc., Aiba thought IJU would put him up in a penthouse somewhere. After all, lower level agents like Aiba were just happy when they were put up at hotels overseas for missions and were allowed to take snacks from the minibar.

For his mission, for his undercover persona, Ohno was staying in a loft-style apartment not far from EVIL Inc.’s main headquarters in Kabukicho. But since he was out pretty much all the time, doing whatever it was that art thieves did during the day, he didn’t get to enjoy it. And with how hard he was working, Aiba had thought that Ohno’s safe house, the safe place where they could meet unobserved, would be a bit fancier.

Sure it was near fancy Roppongi Hills, but the IJU had decided that Ohno and Aiba would have their weekly handler-and-asset meetings in a rather depressing little studio apartment. He and Ohno each had a key for the place, and the only furniture inside was a mattress and a hot plate. Ohno sometimes used them if Aiba got held up at work and they couldn’t meet right on time. The mattress didn’t even have sheets. It was just sad all around.

It was a normal Thursday evening. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since Aiba had received the call from “Unknown Caller” that simply played Gary Grouper’s song. He and Ohno had been meeting like clockwork every Thursday evening for almost two months now. And even though they’d done good work together, they’d definitely been using the safe house for more than just work.

So long as Ohno conveyed all the information he needed Aiba to know for that week, everything he needed for his meetings with the IJU higher ups, they figured it was okay to hook up. It was a pretty pathetic hook-up spot, making out on that sheet-deficient mattress or getting a hasty “see ya next week!” handjob in the genkan, but after so many years apart, Aiba would do just about anything if it meant seeing the adorable, satisfied look Ohno got on his face after getting off.

Neither one of them had ever been too into roleplaying. They were spies, so the appeal of being someone else (when their jobs asked that of them all the time) was pretty low. In the safe house he could just be Aiba Masaki and Ohno could just be Ohno Satoshi instead of the guy who’d been in deep cover missions for the last three years of his life.

So that Thursday night, like all their previous Thursday nights, Aiba went to the depressing little studio apartment and turned his key in the lock. Ohno was already there, lying on the mattress and waving as soon as he came in. Before Aiba had even finished unlacing his shoes, Ohno was talking. Not even a greeting, not even a “hey Aiba-chan” as usual. Instead Ohno had an immediate request.

“I need you to roleplay with me.”

“Huh?” Aiba asked, shrugging out of his winter coat and hanging it up. “Hi to you too, Oh-chan.”

Ohno rolled over onto his belly, watching Aiba with an irritated look in his eyes. “You know how I told you last week that I was really close to turning someone?”

“Yeah, of course,” he replied. Director Kimura was especially excited that Ohno was doing so well sneaking around at EVIL Inc. The pressure was on for him to get higher ups to change sides, to start thwarting their own organization from the inside.

“Well, um, there’s something I haven’t mentioned about this person.”

Aiba fumbled in his back pocket for his phone so he could record (and later erase) their conversation. “Hold on, let me get this on.”

Ohno got to his feet, hurrying across the room to him and putting his hand over Aiba’s before he could get the phone to record. “The woman I’m prepared to turn full-fledged double agent, well, there’s something she wants from me, and I know if I give it to her, she’ll play for any side I want.”

Aiba raised an eyebrow. “She wants something? Oh-chan, it’s me, you can say the word ‘sex’ in front of me.”

“It’s…a little more complicated,” Ohno said, gesturing to the plastic shopping bag that he’d apparently brought in with him. Aiba wandered over and peered inside, cracking up when he saw some thin rope, candles, and a lighter.

“Uhhh, complicated how?” Aiba asked, worried that Ohno had gotten in over his head at EVIL Inc. He was usually really careful about who he selected as his potential turncoats.

“Complicated as in, um…” Ohno’s round face was flushed in a way that always made Aiba like him all the more. “Um, her name is Mistress Pain so…”

“Her name is what?”

“It’s a nickname, I’m sorry. I know that’s hard to bring back to the bosses and stuff, but yeah, she calls herself Mistress Pain and she owns a bunch of brothels in Yokohama. I may have agreed to become her submissive.” Ohno looked away in embarrassment. “And by ‘may have agreed’ I mean ‘totally agreed.’”

“Submissive as in…like, submissive?”

“Yeah. If you couldn’t tell from her name, she’s a dominatrix. In EVIL Inc. she’s responsible for providing prostitutes for organization leadership. She knows them all and she’ll probably turn on them, but she kind of uh, claimed my ass first.”

Aiba took the opportunity to move around, checking on Ohno’s butt in his jeans. It didn’t look particularly claimed, but it was still nice and round as ever, and Aiba was having a difficult time handling the thought of that cute little rear getting smacked around by a woman known as Mistress Pain.

“So um,” Ohno said nervously, scratching his scalp. “I don’t know too much about that stuff so I thought you could help. I downloaded an e-book of that Fifty Shades of something, but it wasn’t very good…”

“Help?” Aiba squeaked. “Help how?”

“Well, you stand in for Mistress Pain, just so I can get used to the idea of being completely and utterly…you know, dominated.”

Aiba’s eyes widened. He’d long known that Ohno had a pretty high threshold for pain. He’d been pummeled by bad guys on missions, on account of most thugs being twice his size. But as far as bedroom activities went, at least the ones he’d shared with Aiba, his preferences usually seemed quite ordinary. “So what do I have to do to you?”

Ohno pulled his phone from his pocket. “She’s given me a schedule of what she’d like to do to me, over time and safely, but so I can have reasonable expectations, I thought maybe you could do some of these things to me first.”

He eyeballed the list quickly, feeling nervous. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, that’s sort of the point,” Ohno said. “I mean…it’s all about deriving pleasure from the pain. But at the same time, it’s not just her smacking me around. It’s about control, ordering me around, you know. She’s not going to do anything I don’t agree to upfront, she’s not a malicious person.” She works for EVIL Inc., Aiba wanted to remind him, but let it slide. “It’s about being safe when you do it so both people enjoy it. It comes down to trust, and though I don’t know everything about Mistress Pain, I do know almost everything about you. I trust that you wouldn’t do anything bad to me.”

This was probably a job that Matsumoto Jun would be much better at. If he could break the gear on a rival’s bike, he’d probably have no problem treating a human being like his pet. Aiba had a difficult time hurting anyone or anything, with his deeds or his words. If he trapped a spider in his apartment, he usually hurried to toss it outside instead of smushing it. Matsumoto Jun, with all the seduction experience he had as part of his pretty boy spy life, BDSM behaviors were probably a walk in the park for him. As for Aiba, he could sometimes imagine things too easily, feel things too deeply. The thought of Ohno being in pain of any sort, especially inflicted by his own hand, it was a lot to worry about.

“There’s really nobody else in all of EVIL Inc. you could turn from the dark side?”

Ohno shook his head. “She’s my best shot.”

Aiba took a deep breath. In this instance, work - and the IJU’s mission - had to come first. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll do my best.”

-

“Well how much candle wax is too much candle wax?”

“I’m not really sure…” Ohno mumbled, skimming through some how-to guides on his phone.

This week, Ohno had brought along multiple types of candles, as the idea of wax play had kind of scared him off last week. So far they’d mostly worked on Aiba giving commands and Ohno following them. After nearly three hours of it, Aiba had been emotionally exhausted, collapsing on the mattress with Ohno and ordering him to simply cuddle with him. That had been kind of nice.

But Aiba was fairly certain they’d mastered the give orders/obey orders thing. At the very least, Ohno didn’t make disagreeable faces now when he was ordered to kiss Aiba’s foot or bark like a dog or finger himself in front of a mirror. The last one had actually been kind of hot to watch.

They were attempting to try something new, especially since Mistress Pain was getting a bit impatient. She’d made Ohno walk around her apartment on all fours and had even forced him to pee outside (thankfully she’d let him stand up and pee against a wall). But she wanted to do more to him, and he wanted to have a decent sense of it. Her apartment was full of candles, so he expected that was the next sort of play she’d introduce.

Aiba dug through the bag, skipping some of the little tea lights Ohno had brought. Too small. He pulled out a thick blue cylindrical candle with three wicks. This sucker wouldn’t be a slouch when it came to wax. “How about this?”

Ohno shrugged.

“You have to be one hundred percent committed, you know.”

“If it’s you, I’m a thousand percent committed.” Ohno grinned. “You’re like the nicest dominant ever, Aiba-chan.”

He smiled in return. “Yeah, probably. Anyhow, let’s get you blindfolded and I’ll try it on me first.”

-

The following week, Aiba was still missing a small patch of hair on his forearm from a rather stupid wax testing error, but Ohno remained uninjured and was in fine spirits. He’d gotten really into it, to the point of admitting to Aiba that he’d practically begged Mistress Pain to do it to him a few days after their own practice session.

But it seemed like his mistress preferred cold temperatures to hot ones and was heavily hinting at an interest in ice. Aiba pulled the tray of ice cubes out of the freezer, giggling a little. Ohno had bought a tray with dick shapes, and Aiba hoped he wouldn’t kill the mood by laughing.

He cracked a dick “cube” out of the tray and made his way over to the mattress. There were still colorful blue wax stains from their previous experience dotting the mattress, and he wondered what IJU management would think whenever Ohno was no longer assigned usage of the safe house.

Speaking of Ohno, he was currently in one of Aiba’s favorite positions - on his back, arms up behind his head with his wrists tied, completely naked. Aiba, fully clothed, grinned when he knelt down on the mattress at Ohno’s side, seeing his cock twitch eagerly at his arrival. “I should blindfold you,” Aiba said.

Ohno wiggled a little. “I’m already tied up. I’m not going to run.”

Aiba, dick cube in hand, hoped he was showing no reaction to the cold. These evenings with Ohno he was discovering a lot of what he was capable of. He held the ice up over Ohno’s abdomen, seeing his eyes focus on it.

“Do I wait until it starts dripping on you or do I just go for it?” Aiba wondered aloud.

Ohno licked his lips. “You’re in charge, Aiba-chan.”

If anything, Ohno was in charge. Everything was with his consent, with his knowledge of how far it could go, and his ability to stop it at any time. Despite their previous sessions, the both of them complete newbies, Ohno hadn’t found it necessary to use their safeword (porcupine) once.

Aiba got serious, clearing his throat and getting to work. He teased Ohno for a while, bringing the ice “cube” within an inch of his skin, the occasional droplet making him shudder. Aiba’s fingers were freezing cold, but he powered through. Before it could melt all the way, he brought the cube to one of Ohno’s nipples, enjoying the pleased little moan he let out as Aiba rubbed it against his sensitive skin. The nipple hardened, and Aiba loved seeing goosebumps prickling on Ohno’s arms, his chest.

He rubbed a bit, then moved the cube quickly so a few more droplets fell to pool in Ohno’s navel, to slide down his side where he was a bit ticklish. It had long ago lost its dick shape, so when he returned to the kitchen for another, he bit his lip to keep from laughing at it. Ohno was even more responsive this time, jerking with each bit of contact as Aiba teased the ice up and down his chest. Aiba was really tempted to put one of the dick cubes in his mouth, to suck on Ohno’s increasingly hard cock with it, but he supposed that wouldn’t quite be in line with what they were trying to practice.

He went through six more of the “cubes,” taking his time even as his fingers numbed and he switched to his other hand. Ohno wriggled and sighed impatiently, completely exposed as Aiba teased across his belly, down his neck and beneath his armpits, along the tender insides of his thighs. Ohno arched up any time Aiba was reaching across his body, coming into contact with him, his erection thudding against him helplessly. Ohno didn’t bother to control his language. Aiba was fairly certain the phrase “please, I need you to fuck me, Aiba-chan” had never been said so often or so noisily.

He had an idea when he got back to the freezer. “If you want to be fucked, you have to do what I say.”

Ohno looked over, breathing heavily. The breaks between the ice had him nearly as excited, waiting so eagerly for more. “Anything.”

Aiba broke three dick cubes from the tray and brought them over. He stood over the mattress in a commanding stance. “If you keep these between your thighs until they melt, then I’ll give it to you.” With the freezing cubes in one hand, he cupped his clothed crotch with the other. “This is what you need, isn’t it?”

Ohno looked like he was suppressing a smile, but he simply nodded.

He knelt down on the mattress once more, spreading Ohno’s thighs apart. “Let’s see how good you are, Oh-chan.”

-

Aiba had always considered himself a guy with simple needs. He didn’t need to be tied up, held down, burned, frozen, any of that stuff. Some people were into that and more power to them. But now that he’d discovered how much Ohno liked to be gagged during sex, he decided that not-so-simple had its appeal too.

He couldn’t exactly compete with Mistress Pain’s strap-on, but Ohno seemed to have few complaints that evening. Unlike most of their ‘preparation’ sessions where Aiba had Ohno blindfolded or restrained in some fashion, with the ball gag in his mouth he couldn’t speak. He had full use of his hands to remove the gag if needed, and as a back-up, he was holding the keys to the safe house in his hand that he could jingle to immediately stop what was going on.

Aiba was usually used to his partners saying…well, just about anything, but with Ohno’s small mouth stretched wide and drool dripping down his face and sliding down his neck, he couldn’t do much more than moan. Aiba had taken it slow, slower than Ohno probably wanted, fucking him so slowly with his lubed-up fingers that Ohno finally reached across the mattress to grab the box of condoms and fling them at his face.

He supposed it wasn’t typical submissive behavior, but Ohno obviously saved that for Mistress Pain.

Now he had Ohno on his back, his ankles resting on his shoulders. He’d always been a flexible guy. Aiba set his hands on the mattress, beside Ohno’s shoulders. There was an astonishing intimacy to it, seeing the trust in Ohno’s eyes mingled with pleasure each time Aiba pushed back inside him, their bodies rocking against each other.

“Mistress usually talks a lot, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Ohno had said before letting Aiba help him with the gag. He was happy to stay silent, barely able to keep from smiling as he quickened the pace, seeing Ohno nod with each stroke. He wanted to wipe Ohno’s face, worried he was going to choke on his own spittle, but Ohno was remarkably enthusiastic about the process, making more noise than usual as he moaned around the gag.

Before too long, Ohno had his hands around Aiba’s arms, squeezing tight as if to encourage him to go all out. Fuck me hard, his eyes were saying. Go on, do it. Though Ohno’s heavy, labored breathing still had him worried, he gradually gave in, leaning forward and pushing until Ohno’s knees were almost even with his shoulders. These last few weeks, these moments with Ohno after so many years apart, he cherished them. Though they’d been on and off for years in the past, he’d never felt closer to him than he had lately. Knowing how much Ohno trusted him, how much Ohno relied on him to help, it was almost as much of a turn-on for Aiba as the look on Ohno’s face when he got off.

The sad little mattress was almost starting to scoot across the floor as Aiba pushed himself harder, deeper, sweat dripping down his face to join the saliva pooling on Ohno’s chin. He shut his eyes, hearing the encouraging, desperate sounds Ohno was trying to make. Soon enough, he was coming, burying his face against Ohno’s neck, barely able to breathe.

He eased up, giving Ohno’s legs a break and gently easing himself out of him. With shaky fingers, he helped Ohno to pull the gag from his mouth, loosening the straps that kept it on. Then he cleaned up, dumping his condom in the trash and hurrying back with some clean washcloths. Ohno was still on his back, staring up at the ceiling with as close to stars in his eyes as Aiba had ever seen.

Aiba took charge, cleaning them both. “Jaw hurts,” Ohno complained lightly, pressing a kiss to Aiba’s brow once they were considerably less gross.

“Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s worth it,” Ohno said. And then a few minutes later, as Aiba was about to drift off, Ohno spoke again. “Ah, probably getting a leg cramp too…”

Aiba laughed, nudging him. “You wanted to keep going.”

“I did,” Ohno admitted, curling up at his side. Despite how tender his mouth had to be, he offered Aiba a long, sweet kiss. “I should probably tell you something.”

“Please don’t say you want me to pee on you, Oh-chan. I have limits…”

“No,” Ohno said, laughing. “But uh, I managed to convince my mistress to change sides.”

“What? Really? When?”

Ohno squeezed Aiba’s hand. “Uh, last week…”

“So this…” Aiba blushed. “Wait, you said she wanted to do this to you.”

“Uh, fucking me in the ass with her strap-on, yes. While I’m gagged, not necessarily.”

Aiba looked over, seeing Ohno’s wry smile. “Kinky, aren’t you?”

“This mission has opened my eyes to a whole new world.”

Aiba squeezed Ohno’s hand. “Talk about professional development!”

“Taking down EVIL Inc, drooling all over myself,” Ohno said with a yawn, snuggling closer. “All in a day’s work!”



The One Where Jun Gets The Upper Hand (Or Does He?)

Matsumoto Jun had spent the last month and a half on the steppes of Mongolia, traveling with yak herders as well as the company of a senior agent. Senior Operations Officer Okada Junichi was well known as one of the IJU’s “top all-around badasses” and he’d selected Jun to travel to Mongolia with him. There they had infiltrated the herder group to search for an EVIL Inc. operative who had defected and fled. It was thanks to Ohno that they’d had the man’s name at all.

Successful in their Mongolian mission, Agent Okada was throwing an all expenses paid party at a bar not too far from headquarters that night. While IJU’s best and brightest interrogators were working over the ex-EVIL Inc. fellow for information, Okada was encouraging all his juniors to help themselves to whatever they wanted, even the top shelf liquor.

Aiba had happily done so, and was nursing his fourth rum and Coke of the evening. He managed to corner Matsumoto in a booth to the rear of the bar. “Ah, here you are, Mr. Yak Herder!”

Jun, who usually scowled at him with considerable zeal, instead smiled at him. “Hey you, get over here.”

Aiba, a bit confused but tipsy enough not to be scared off, slid into the booth beside him. He was drunk enough to sit so close that their hips were just about touching, and Jun was drunk enough to not move away. “Congratulations on your successful mission, as per usual. Hmm, you don’t smell like a yak. That’s good.”

Jun chuckled, and Aiba kind of liked seeing his light-hearted side. Jun needed to get drunk more often. “You know, we lived in a yurt! And I had yak milk and yak butter and yak meat. Also, yaks don’t smell that bad! They have a bad reputation!”

“Kind of like…how you think about me, huh?”

Jun, nursing some drink that reeked of vodka, smiled. “You don’t smell like a yak, Aiba.”

Aiba raised an eyebrow, amused by Jun’s extremely informal tone. “I meant the reputation part. You don’t like me very much.”

“Whaaaaaat?” Jun asked, shoving Aiba’s shoulder pretty damn hard. “Nawwwww, that’s…that’s just…you know.”

“Jun-kun,” Aiba said, pointing at him, “you sabotaged my bicycle in the triathlon.”

Jun waved his hand dismissively. “Can’t be proven, no witnesses.”

Aiba grinned. “Okay then.”

As other IJU staffers and officers went to the bar and back, he and Matsumoto nursed their drinks. Jun definitely didn’t smell like a yak, and despite his alcohol-palooza already in progress, he waved over one of the waitresses to get some shots. Aiba, almost done with his fourth liquor-filled drink, wasn’t too keen on moving in that direction, but Jun was being comparatively nice to him for the first time since they’d known each other, and he wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass him by. It was almost friendly, sitting at Jun’s side and not being in competition for once.

“Okay, let’s have a competition,” Jun decided as soon as the waitress returned with a tray full of shot glasses. Aiba rolled his eyes. He should have known. “This…these…this grouping of alcoholic delights, you and me. You ever see what’s it with Indiana Jones? His girlfriend with the shots and the drinking?”

“Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

“Yeah! She has the drinking…shots contest.” Jun hiccupped adorably, his big lovely face flushed from drink. “You and me, we’ll have the drinking shots contest. I’m going to be like Indiana’s girlfriend and win.”

“If you insist.”

They made it to three shots of tequila each before Jun was about to fall over, leaning against Aiba heavily.

“Oi,” Aiba slurred, liking how warm and cozy Jun felt at his side. “Oi, Indiana’s girlfriend.”

“Hmm?” Jun replied.

He gestured to the table. “More shots. You giving up?”

“No.”

Aiba nudged him with his shoulder. He really didn’t want to keep going anyhow. If Jun did another one, he’d back out and let him have this victory. He was probably one or two shots away from hugging the toilet and regurgitating all the fine liquor Agent Okada had paid for anyway. “Well then go on, drink it.”

“You.”

Jun’s head was lolling against Aiba’s shoulder now, and he chuckled. “No, you go first. I insist.”

“No way,” Jun protested.

“Coward.”

“Me? What about you? Why don’t you do it?” Jun elbowed him, harder than necessary. His voice was different when he spoke again. “I need to be better than you at something.”

“Huh?”

Jun moved a little and when Aiba looked over, there were tears in Jun’s eyes. “Aiba-san, I need to be better.”

Aiba had always been a sympathy cryer, and he could feel his own eyes welling up. “Being able to drink more than me proves nothing.”

“Proves my liver is better.”

“I don’t think that’s medically true.” He patted Jun’s shoulder. “Come on, Jun-kun, why do we have to be so antog…anti…antagon…antig…” He blinked a few times. “Why can’t we just be best friends?”

Jun looked even more forlorn. “Why would you want to be friends with someone not as good?”

“Hey, don’t say that. Don’t say that. Ninomiya-san is much better than me at building tech stuff, and we’re friends. I like to exercise and he prefers to sit around and eat potato chips, and we’re friends.” This time he wrapped his arm around Jun, was surprised that Jun leaned against him even more. “So me being able to run faster than you shouldn’t matter. I like you, Jun, why do we have to be so mean? I don’t think everything between us has to be such a competition.”

They both stared at the unfinished shots one more time.

“I look up to you,” Jun said, so quietly Aiba could barely hear him over the other noise in the bar. “I just want you to like me.”

Aiba was confused, the alcohol making him woozy. “Didn’t I just say I like you? Aren’t you listening to me?”

Time seemed to stop a bit when Jun looked up, fingers brushing against Aiba’s face. His eyes were so dark, Aiba could get lost in them. “I want you to like me.”

“I do,” he repeated.

And he wasn’t sure who moved first, but then he was kissing Jun and Jun was kissing him. Tears were rolling down both of their faces, and Aiba wasn’t even sure what they were crying about anymore. Jun, who was intense in almost all things, was no slouch in the kissing department either. He had his hand on Aiba’s neck, had only been kissing him a few seconds before he was slipping his tongue into Aiba’s mouth. The bar, their colleagues, Aiba’s continued curiosity about what life in a yurt was like…it all meant nothing because finally, finally, finally after so many years of loathing, he and Jun had seemingly kissed and made up.

“…all these shots are just sitting here waiting for me and…”

Jun broke away from Aiba first, the two of them jumping at the sight of a nosy, noisy Nino stumbling into their table, Becky trying to corral him.

“Hey,” Becky said, not sounding as drunk as everyone else. “Hey Nino, let’s uh, let’s leave them be and…”

But Jun was already up, the moment was lost, and Aiba could only watch in drunken confusion as he stumbled his way to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Aiba leaned his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. “Such terrible timing, Ninomi.”

“Sorry.” Nino took one of the shot glasses and sniffed it before quickly returning it to the tray. “Ugh, even I have my limits.”

“What’s going on with you two? Another battle?” Becky asked.

Aiba could still taste Jun, savoring the memory of it. He doubted it would ever happen again, once Jun came to his senses. Kissing under the influence, that definitely didn’t count, did it?

“I wish I knew the answer.” He shut his eyes. “Also, since the bathroom is occupied, can someone get me outside so I can barf?”



The One With Sho From Accounting

The accounting firm of Domoto and Domoto took up eight floors of a Shinjuku skyscraper, and it was far easier for Aiba to sneak in from the rooftop than it was from the ground. He’d entered the building next door during business hours, posing as a salaryman, and had spent most of the evening waiting for total darkness (which was a relative thing in Tokyo, but at least it was after midnight now).

He’d shot a grappling hook over to the roof next door, carefully making his way across and trying not to look down, since it was a good forty stories down to a splattering death. In his slinky black shirt and slacks with matching black ski mask, he jimmied open the lock and entered the stairwell from the roof. EVIL Inc. guards worked the building’s entrance, but some of Ohno’s recon work had revealed that the stairwells went mostly unmonitored. If all went as planned, the door to the thirty-third floor would be unlocked.

Happily, it was.

Taking note of camera placement, he snuck through the thirty-third floor’s rows of cubicles and work stations, finding the office at the end of the floor, the only one that still had its lights on. Observing from behind a cubicle wall, he saw the man inside, Ohno’s contact, someone else in the organization that he’d managed to turn. What Oh-chan hadn’t seemed to think was worth telling Aiba, however, was how ridiculously cute said contact was.

In a business suit, his red tie loosened, Aiba watched accountant Sakurai Sho twirl a pencil in his fingers. For years, Domoto and Domoto had cooked the books for EVIL Inc., but Ohno had managed to convince Sakurai that it was time to stop working for the bad guys. The guy hadn’t known about EVIL Inc. when he’d joined Domoto and Domoto, and he’d probably been blackmailed all these years not to tell anyone about their criminal activity. Aiba sort of felt bad for the guy, and Ohno had too. After weeks of convincing and cajoling, Sakurai was ready to come clean.

Ohno just hadn’t told him that Aiba was coming to make him prove it that night.

He watched Sakurai, an all-around diligent employee, tap the pencil’s eraser against his sexy, plump lips a few times before going on the offensive. Knowing there was no camera pointed directly at Sakurai’s office, he hurried from the cubicle and was inside Sakurai’s office, shutting and locking the door in ten seconds flat.

Sakurai, clearly tired from a long work day, reacted with a surprised shout, holding up his hands when Aiba pointed his tranquilizer gun at him. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot!”

Aiba kept the weapon on him anyway, pulling off his ski mask and shoving it in the pocket of his slacks. “Relax, Sakurai-san. I’m friends with Naruse-san.” Naruse being Ohno’s false name and part of his cover identity.

Sakurai trembled a little. “He didn’t say anything about this.”

“Yeah because tomorrow when they find you here in the office, you’ll say I surprised you and you won’t be lying.” Aiba gestured for Sakurai to get up, pointing to his filing cabinets. “I’m taking evidence with me that Domoto and Domoto is working for EVIL…I mean, that Domoto and Domoto works for the Shimmering Lotus Clan.”

Sakurai shook his head, but got to his feet and walked over anyhow. “If I give this to you, they’ll know I’m a snitch. They’ll have me killed.”

“They won’t, I promise. I’ll leave you here to be found in the morning, and by noon, my people will have the accounts analyzed and we’ll have you extracted. Brought to a safe house. Naruse-san’s got it all under control. He won’t let you get hurt.”

Aiba was a bit surprised when Sakurai blushed. He was super cute, and it was hard not to smile at him. “Will I get to see Naruse-san again?”

He finally lowered the tranq gun. “Wait a minute…” This whole op had been Ohno’s plan. Ohno had suggested it was best that Aiba tie up Sakurai and leave him bound and gagged to be found come morning. “Are you and Naruse-san…?”

Sakurai nodded, blushing even harder.

Aiba chuckled. “Oh boy.” Damn it, Oh-chan, he thought. As if Mistress Pain wasn’t enough. Civilians too! He’d always had trouble keeping it in his pants. “Yeah, you’ll see him again, I’m fairly certain.”

Sakurai pulled some papers from his cabinets and then took the flash drive Aiba provided him, showing him exactly what files he was transferring over. Everything was definitely going to help the IJU freeze EVIL Inc.’s bank accounts, at least the ones within Japan, and Sakurai had given him proof of other accounts in Switzerland and Russia.

“This is all very helpful, thank you,” Aiba said once he’d pocketed the flash drive, shoving the papers down his pants. Sakurai watched him do so, and Aiba couldn’t help but notice him licking his lips as he did so.

He had a small pouch tied around his middle, unzipping it to tug out the thin rope he was going to use to tie Sakurai to his chair. Sakurai seemed even more interested in this development. Suddenly, Aiba had a theory.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Sakurai-san, where did you meet Naruse-san?”

“I’d…I’d rather not say…”

Aiba took the rope between his hands, tugging it taut and seeing Sakurai let out a pleasurable shudder.

“Do you let Naruse-san tie you up, Sakurai-san?”

Sakurai nodded.

“Did Naruse-san tie you up with the help of a rather…interesting woman?”

Sakurai nodded.

Aiba chuckled. “So basically the fact that I’m going to tie you up and leave you here to be found in the morning, part of you kind of likes the idea?”

Sakurai nodded.

Wow, Ohno sure knew how to pick people. He gave Sakurai a push, knocking him back into his chair. “So is there a high probability I’m going to leave you here and you’ll come in your pants? That’s a really nice suit.”

Sakurai nodded, and Aiba could see that his breathing was growing heavier. Oh, the secret life of the EVIL Inc. accountant.

“Would it help if I got you off before I left you? I mean, it’ll be embarrassing enough when they find you and you don’t need to be found covered in dried come, am I right?’’

This time Sakurai didn’t nod. Aiba leaned forward, whispering in Sakurai’s ear.

“I’ve tied up Naruse-san before. I think he’d be happy to know I took good care of you.”

Sakurai’s voice was deep, but full of nervous tension. “He said he had a friend who was good at…um, this sort of business. I thought he’d been talking about his girlfriend, the lady with the riding crop.”

Aiba grinned. He wasn’t actually that good at it, but a straight-laced accountant who worked past midnight on a regular basis probably wouldn’t know the difference. Whatever Aiba’s limitations were when it came to bondage, he could certainly make up for it with his mouth and his tongue.

“Do you need to pee first? As far as Naruse-san’s told me, nobody’s going to come by until after 6:00, and after all your help, I’d hate to leave you without giving you the opportunity.”

He walked Sakurai to the bathroom carefully, making the man crawl on all fours in front of him so they wouldn’t be detected by the cameras. The guy had a great ass, which told Aiba all he needed to know. Ohno liked them nice and perky like that. And Ohno was always a good sport about sharing. He wondered if Ohno had set this whole thing up as a thank you for Aiba’s help with the mission. A generous man, Ohno Satoshi.

He finally got Sakurai back to his office, and even though he probably should have made it quick to secure his exit, he found it impossible to speed through it. As he secured Sakurai’s ankles, lashed his wrists to the chair, he could see his interest grow. He made sure to linger as he tied, dragging his fingertips across Sakurai’s skin, enjoying the little mmm’s and ohhh’s of pleasure he was making.

Aiba got to his feet, Sakurai completely secured in the chair. He stood between Sakurai’s spread legs, stroking a finger across his lips. “Do you want the whole tie stuffed in your mouth or tied around you?”

Sakurai had given up entirely on his fear, his black hair falling messily across his brow and his pupils huge and dark. “Do whatever you want to me.”

Aiba didn’t need to be told twice. He tugged on Sakurai’s tie roughly, seeing him smile. He then took the tie in his hand and turned the wheeled office chair around. He settled his hands on Sakurai’s shoulders, patting hard. “You know, if I didn’t have to get all this information back to headquarters, I bet we’d have a lot of fun together.”

Sakurai chuckled quietly. “I think so too.”

“Oh well, duty calls. Let’s get you gagged then.” He got the tie in Sakurai’s mouth, securing it with a double knot behind his head, making sure he was as comfortable as he was going to get before turning the chair back around. “Ready?”

Sakurai nodded.

Aiba knelt down before him, unzipping Sakurai’s slacks, thoroughly unsurprised to see how hard and wanting he already was. He stroked his erection a few times, seeing his eyes flutter closed, his whines of pleasure kind of noisy even with the tie in his mouth.

“Come on, Sakurai-san,” Aiba teased him. “At least try and pretend there’s some danger involved, a mysterious stranger jacking you off in your office. Security guards who might come by at any minute.”

Sakurai moaned again, but quieter, and Aiba laughed. With the clock ticking, he made sure Sakurai Sho knew just how much his help was appreciated, licking eagerly from the base of his shaft to the head, swirling his tongue. Encouraged by Sakurai’s noisy approval, the way he struggled against his bonds, Aiba took his cock in his mouth, bobbing his head in time with his hand. If they had more time and if Aiba had thought to bring protection, he’d have found a way to tie Sakurai down and fuck him against his desk. That ass of his was just being wasted by having to stay seated. But he supposed that was a job he could leave for Ohno, once he was able to get Sakurai away from EVIL Inc.’s clutches and into a safe house. Aiba hoped that there’d be more than a mattress and a hot plate waiting for Sakurai Sho.

Sakurai’s hot little noises made Aiba speed up, and before too long, he heard Sakurai give in, warmth filling Aiba’s mouth. He took it all, not wanting to kill the mood by spitting into the sad little plant in the corner of Sakurai’s office. He got to his feet, wiping his mouth. Sakurai was drooling, his head resting a bit against his shoulder. Aiba patted his cheek, smiling.

“I could have kept going, but there’s a wire I have to shimmy across upstairs and it’s not the easiest thing to do.”

He grabbed some tissue, tidying up Sakurai’s softening cock and slipping it back in his slacks and zipping him up. He ruffled his hair in thanks, making sure he had everything he needed before sneaking back to the roof.

It was 4 AM when Aiba got the files back to headquarters. Vice-Director Sakamoto was there, patting Aiba on the shoulder. “It was a risky one, Aiba-san, thanks for all your help.”

Aiba shrugged, accepting the praise. “All in a day’s work, sir.”

Part Three