A/N:
hello all~
it seems you have stumbled upon my first attempt at the K fandom, and what better way than to write about my saddest otp ever. mikototsu, sobbing
this couple was the worst best mistake of my life ugly sobbing
anyways, enjoy the AU (where everything is happy and nothing hurts), and please don't be too mean on me if the characters are ooc okay. this was supposed to be a drabble, i don't even know where the 2000 extra words came from sobbing
Disclaimer: K Project is not mine, because if it was totsuka would never die okay. Okay.
all mistakes are mine however because this is un-betaed and only read over like once. and i skim. so.
enjoy!
A Strange Possibility
A Mikototsu AU Fic
Mikoto met Totsuka surprisingly because of an attempted mugging.
Mikoto, who had just wandered the streets, found himself stopping when he heard the threatening shouts of a man. His voice echoed through the empty alleyway he was in so it really wasn't all that discreet in Mikoto's opinion, but hey, what did he know about attempted muggings.
He was about to walk away, to leave the man with his victim, before the victim's voice reached him.
Now Mikoto was a hard person to sway to do anything. He was lazy and he wasn't very motivated to do anything… ever. The pleadings of some guy getting mugged would have just slid off his back because, well, to put it simply, Mikoto didn't really care about what happened to strangers. That is, until he heard this man; until he heard just how carefree and unworried his voice was.
The man getting mugged sounded like he was talking about the weather, not negotiating his possible escape without a stab wound.
It was… interesting.
The mugger started shouting again, and Mikoto was suddenly irritated. He huffed, a puff of breath appearing in the cold air, before he turned into the alleyway. The mugger was hardly paying attention, waving around his knife like a little toy knife. The man getting mugged however, looked up at him.
The lighting was very dim, but Mikoto grabbed hold of the mugger easy enough. Shoving him into the brick wall and knocking him out was also very easy.
The man's victim clapped like he was at a theater watching a movie and when he stepped out of the shadows into slightly brighter light, Mikoto could only stare.
"No wonder he was going to mug you," Mikoto said bluntly, "you're too clean for this part of town."
The man tilted his head to the side, blinking wide caramel eyes in questions. "Too… clean?" He asked slowly, looking down at his dirtied up clothes. Clothes that still managed to look good clinging onto him, even with the dirt and heaven knows what all over it.
Mikoto just shook his head, "Nothing," he said gruffly, "you got a way of getting home or don't you?"
The man beamed, "Ah yes! Would you be kind enough to give me directions to the train station?"
Mikoto just raised his eyebrow, "When I left my home, it was two in the morning," he drawled, "I don't think you're going to catch a train anytime soon."
The way the man deflated was almost painful to watch, "A-Ah…" he said, "I see…"
Mikoto frowned, "What are you going to do if I leave you here."
The man blinked before shrugging, "Find a hotel to stay the night and go home tomorrow morning?"
The redhead could only shake his head. "Come on," he said, nodding at the other to follow him.
The man lingered, a smile on his unsure face, "Are you offering me your place to stay for the night?"
Mikoto just continued to walk. After a few seconds, he heard rapid footsteps behind him, the man quickly catching up, walking in stride easily.
"You can stay at my home for the night," he said.
"But?" The man asked.
Mikoto smirked, "You need to do something for me."
.
(5 months later)
When Izumo walked inside of Mikoto's penthouse one morning, piles of files requesting Omai's in his arms, he could only pause at the shoes that were neatly set in a line.
He furrowed his eyebrows, but he continued inside.
The large penthouse was quiet, and Izumo's suspicions could only rise as he made his way to Mikoto's bedroom. When he opened his door, he couldn't quite believe what he saw.
There, on the bed, was Mikoto, the heir to the HOMRA clan. And laying in his arms, face pressed against the heir's neck, was a really pretty man who, if Izumo squinted, looked really familiar.
The two were sleeping peacefully, that is, they were, until Izumo dropped all the files he was holding. The scattered papers made a loud thump as they hit the ground, and Izumo watched as Mikoto opened his eyes, blearily taking in Izumo before closing his eyes again and turning in his sleep.
With the jostling, Mikoto's bedmate had also awoken, but instead of freaking out, he only turned more into Mikoto's side, curling around him as he nuzzled his nose into Mikoto's skin.
"Five more minutes…" the man mumbled sleepily.
Izumo could only stare, before turning and walking out of the penthouse.
.
When he came back, the place was filled with the scent of something good.
His mind connected the smells to a traditional Japanese breakfast, and when he walked into the kitchen, he knew he had been correct.
Mikoto was there, sitting at the dining table clad in only pajama bottoms that clung to his hips. The other man was wearing Mikoto's matching shirt, the clothing item slipping off his shoulder, big on his slender frame.
They were both eating the breakfast that Izumo knew that Mikoto didn't make, and the whole thing was so domestic that it almost hurt.
"Mikoto…" Izumo said, unsure on how to react.
Mikoto didn't look up, but the man turned in his seat, smiling brightly at him. "Oh! Hello," he greeted, "are you one of Mikoto's friends?" He stood up before Izumo could answer, "Please, sit down. I still have some miso left if you want some breakfast."
Izumo took a step back, not sure how to react to the man's cheerful offer.
Did he not know who they were? Who Mikoto was?
Sure Mikoto would sometimes have someone over for a one-night romp, but they had always known just who Mikoto was. They were never as clean or as bright as this man who was offering Izumo breakfast because, for one, they never stayed long enough for breakfast to begin with!
If that didn't seal the deal on this strange as fuck situation, it had to be the fact that Mikoto was wearing clothes. And this man was wearing Mikoto's clothes. And that they had slept together, yes, but the man's skin was clear of all the bruising marks that Mikoto loved to dish out on his one-night lovers.
Izumo was starting to think that they didn't actually do the dirty, that the man only came to sleep with Mikoto. But that was ridiculous—there was no way! …Right?
"Tatara," Mikoto said voice still rough from sleep. "You're freaking him out."
The man—Tatara—turned to Mikoto, blinking as he tilted his head; "I just offered him breakfast?"
"You should go take that shower," Mikoto said.
Tatara smiled, "Promise you won't complain if I'm there for an hour."
Mikoto just nodded, "You know where the clothes are."
Then Izumo watched as Tatara stood up, collecting his empty dishes and Mikoto's own, before putting them in the sink. When he passed by Mikoto, he pressed a kiss to the other's wild hair before exiting the room with a friendly smile in Izumo's direction.
When the door to the bathroom closed, and the sound of the shower came on, Izumo let out a screech.
"WHO IS HE?"
Mikoto took a sip of his miso, "Totsuka Tatara," he said, "I would have thought you would have recognized him sooner."
Izumo could only blink before his jaw dropped, "T-The ACTOR?! THAT TOTSUKA TATARA?!"
Mikoto just nodded.
"Are you dating him?" Izumo demanded.
Mikoto just smirked at that.
Izumo staggered into the seat that Totsuka had left behind.
"For how long?"
Mikoto just shrugged, "A while. Five months."
"Five months?! Why have you never told us about him?!" Izumo screeched, "Wait, wait wait wait! Does he know? About HOMRA?!"
Mikoto just took another sip of his miso, nodding after he put the bowl down.
"I-I need to sit down," Izumo muttered.
Mikoto smirked, "You are sitting."
Izumo just ignored him, putting his head down.
.
An hour later, when Tatara came out, clad in form fitting slim jeans, and another one of Mikoto's shirts, he came into the room and tilted his head at the sight of Izumo with his head down.
He walked toward Mikoto who was washing the dishes, leaning up on tiptoes to kiss the other man on his cheek. "Is he okay?" He asked with a small smile.
Mikoto just washed off his hands before turning, wrapping his arms around Tatara's slender waist. "Ignore him," he said, before leaning down to properly kiss Tatara, something that the other hummed at, his eyes closing as they kissed.
Izumo, who had looked up at their interaction, took in the way that Mikoto held him (possessive, protective), to the way that Tatara leaned onto him (dependent, loving), and then he let his eyes land on bright red tattoo on Tatara's back shoulder.
It wasn't HOMRA's insignia, but Mikoto's own. The tattoo that everyone who was loyal to Mikoto first got when they officially earned Mikoto's trust.
"Five months eh," he mumbled to himself.
.
(Roughly 5 months ago)
"You want me to… cook for you?"
The man looked up at Mikoto, an eyebrow raised.
In the light of Mikoto's kitchen, Mikoto could only wonder how one man was that pretty. Soft looking caramel hair, with large caramel eyes that spoke of incredulity and amusement. He was never scared, Mikoto thought to himself as he nodded.
"I'm hungry," he said.
The man tilted his head to one side, "We passed by open restaurants though?"
Mikoto just shrugged, "Homemade tastes better."
Caramel eyes met his then, steady and calm, without anything but curiosity. It was interesting; Mikoto thought to himself, this man was interesting.
They stayed staring at each other, studying the other, before the man shrugged. "Okay," he said amicably, "I'll make you something." He smiled up at Mikoto, "But do you mind if I shower first?"
Mikoto just nodded, walking casually toward his room. The man followed him, standing in the doorway as Mikoto opened his closet, presenting all the clothes that he had. "Just pick something out to change into," he said lazily, "I'll wait in the living room."
He turned to go, but stopped when the man's voice reached his ears.
"Totsuka Tatara," he said.
Mikoto turned, meeting that steady caramel gaze again, "Suoh Mikoto."
The man—Tatara, beamed. "Mikoto-san then," he said, "thank you."
Mikoto just let out a grunt, "Don't take too long in the shower."
Tatara grinned before nodding, "Okay. I'll think of something good to make for you, so don't go to sleep yet!"
.
Mikoto did end up falling asleep, but when he woke up, Tatara was in his kitchen, preparing omelet rice. Mikoto just glanced at the clock before frowning, "You took an hour long shower," he said bluntly.
Tatara smiled at him, "Is that a problem? How long do you shower for Mikoto-san?"
"Not for an hour," Mikoto answered in the same blunt tone.
Then he walked over to look into the pan, taking a sniff of the delicious scent the omelet was giving off. "Just sit down," Tatara told him, not at all bothered to find Mikoto inches away from him, "the omelet's almost done."
Mikoto just nodded and went to sit.
.
Another hour later, when the omelet rice was gone and two stomachs were filled, Mikoto stood to take the empty plates to put them in the sink.
Tatara yawned, "The trains should be coming right?" He asked.
Mikoto just nodded before pulling the slender man out of his seat and shepherding him to his bedroom.
"Take a nap first," Mikoto said, "if you fall asleep on the train, someone might take advantage of you."
For a second, it looked like Tatara was going to reject his proposal, but then he sat down on the bed, lifting up the covers and climbing inside. Mikoto turned to leave before Tatara called out his name, "Mikoto-san," he said, and when Mikoto turned, the man smiled, patting the other side of the bed.
"Just a short nap," Tatara said.
Mikoto stared at him, before shucking off his shirt and moving to join the other under the covers. Tatara smiled at him before laying back, his eyes closing his body immediately relaxing as he fell into sleep.
He was vulnerable, laying there. If Mikoto wanted, he could just lean over and suffocate him with a pillow. He was bigger, stronger; he could do it if he wanted to.
The thing though, was that he didn't want to.
The other was stupid, an idiot who smiled as he tried to negotiate during a mugging. He was the definition of strange that came in an interesting, pretty package.
Mikoto could hurt him—would somehow hurt him if the other stayed long enough, but he pushed those thoughts away. The man could be gone and out of his life in a couple of hours or a couple of years, or he could never leave—always there by his side. Everything was a possibility with him, Mikoto realized, and with that thought, he allowed his body to relax, lulled to sleep by the soft breathing of the man next to him.
AN2:
i would say that this is the end, but i'm not too sure if i want to leave this AU yet
so, what i'm trying to say is that there might be a second chapter?
not sure, not sure, not sure
but yeah, hope no one got lost!
reviews are highly appreciated~
thank you for reading!