Author: Eerie
!Advisory: Dubcon, abuse, incest
~Direct sequel to "Boiling Over"
Steamed
Souji's room had already swelled with nearly overbearing stagnancy—an early promise of yet another scorching late summer day—though he had been sleeping rather soundly despite. That is, until Nanako's voice practically rang off every wall in the house from the floor below.
"Daaaad! Big Broooo! I'm baaaack!"
Blinking groggily, Souji flopped over and stared with lazy contempt at the hard sunlight glowing behind his curtains. It was already nearly noon, but his head throbbed and he wanted nothing more than to sleep the rest of the day away. His muscles hurt even still, but he tried his best to ignore it. Memories of the night before replayed in his head with disconcerting clarity, despite his desire to never visualize those things again, and he squeezed his eyes shut with a grimace in an attempt to force them out. It was too late; his day was already ruined.
Still, for whatever reason he didn't quite feel chagrined like most people in his situation probably would. Most normal people, maybe. Instead a dull, low-burning fury lingered in the back of his mind. It was the type of anger just as adept at lying passive as it was at provoking one's every action. At that point, Souji didn't know to which his emotions belonged.
He exhaled heavily, listening to the sounds of pans and silverware clanking downstairs. Nanako must have been preparing a late breakfast for them. His stomach rumbled loudly in response to that line of thought and he resigned, slowly pulling himself out of bed.
Downstairs, the girl smiled up at her cousin with a lucid energy Souji only wished he could share. He returned the gesture with as much enthusiasm as he could muster and sat down to pick apart the Sunday newspaper.
"Did you have fun at Mai's house?"
"Uh huh! Look!" She turned from her perch at the stove and held her hands out in a grand gesture, displaying two sets of shiny pink fingernails.
"Oh, nice." He glanced through the headlines before extracting the leisure section.
"Dad! Is it okay if I stay at Mai's again tonight? Her mom promised to give us some makeup."
"Ah, well, that's fine by me."
Souji had been so engrossed in sifting through the day's events that he hadn't even noticed Dojima's presence coming down from the stairs. He glanced up from the paper and shot a hard look at the man, his energy returning in the form of adrenaline then, but Dojima wasn't even paying him any attention. The coffee maker had been his priority at this point.
"Hey I know!" Nanako suddenly chirped. "Let's all go to Junes today!" She turned and gave Souji a meaningful look. "You don't have plans, do you, Big Bro?"
Souji shook his head. "Sure don't."
Her father became the target of her eager eyes next. "Dad? Can we? Please?"
Dojima knocked the carafe against the edge of the counter and momentarily froze. Souji didn't need to see his face to know that he wore an expression of discomfort, though he wished he could have witnessed it all the same. He assumed that Dojima had been up drinking half the night after Souji had quickly showered and shut himself away in his room. It was fairly obvious that the man battled a mild hangover this morning.
Souji snorted under his breath in a mixture of amusement and detestation as he glared at his uncle's back. Dojima certainly hadn't been drunk when they parted ways last night—quite the contrary. The son of a bitch.
"Uh…sure. I suppose we can go." Dojima's tone betrayed his obvious desire to do otherwise, but Nanako didn't catch it.
"Yay! Junes! Junes!" Nanako blissfully proceeded to sing the department store's mind-numbing jingle over and over as she busied herself making the three of them omelets.
Sighing softly, Dojima located a half empty pack of cigarettes settled on top of the refrigerator and pulled one out, lighting it immediately. Though the coffee was not even halfway brewed, he yanked the carafe from the hotplate, which protested with a sizzle, and poured its scant contents into a mug. He moved toward the table, still not looking at his nephew, and snatched up the front-page news before taking a careful sip of his coffee. Though subtle, Souji noticed his wincing reaction.
"How's your tongue, Uncle?"
That managed to finally get his attention. Dojima paused as he lowered his eyes to meet Souji's.
"Huh? Did you burn your tongue, Dad?" Nanako called over.
Dojima didn't spare his nephew an incredulous glare of his own, but it couldn't match the immovable severity rooted in Souji's expression. Recognizing it, Dojima averted his eyes uncomfortably.
"Yeah, don't worry. I'm fine," he answered her.
Souji assumed part of that reply was meant for him as well. His eyes narrowed. "That's good. You really ought to be more careful."
Dojima merely grunted and turned away.
*
After a painfully quiet and rushed breakfast, broken only once by Nanako's usual inquiry over whether or not Souji and Dojima were fighting—and its usual negatory, glossed-over answer from her father—the three of them found their way to Junes. The ride over had been almost as tense, though Dojima had the radio turned up just loud enough to discourage conversation at all.
The store was fairly busy due to the combination of it being a Sunday afternoon and the fact that most stores in the downtown shopping district were closed in one form or another. They hit the toy department on the upper level first.
Nanako had already wandered off and Souji decided to do the same, trolling toward the back of the store. Kids ran about, screaming and pleading with their parents to buy them rewards for flimsy feats of good behavior. As he dodged out of one's way, he spied a familiar slouched and suited form—decidedly out of place among the bustling crush of small bodies—standing in the clearance aisle. He didn't have to wander too close before Adachi turned and spotted him as well. A messy grin spread over the young detective's face as he waved Souji over.
"Hey there! What are you doing here?"
Souji casually shrugged as he approached. "Family outing."
"Ah, that's nice." He seemed to suddenly remember the discounted toy—badly dented at the box corners—in his hand before reshelving it with an embarrassed grimace.
Souji pretended not to notice. "No work today?"
"Nah. They said me and Dojima-san needed some time to cool our heels. The whole thing with the Kubo case has got everyone pretty riled up lately. I mean, it's not like I'm not grateful for the break, but it seems like I'm just looking for ways to kill time now. Sure doesn't help that my apartment's hot as hell."
"I hear that. But uh, just out of curiosity, why are you still wearing your work clothes?"
Adachi looked down at himself. "Oh this? Well, clocked in or not I'm still a cop. Can't hurt to be prepared. Just ask Dojima-san."
Souji's lips slowly curled up into a smile, and judging from the detective's mildly confused expression it was clear Adachi was about to ask if something was on his face, but Nanako had skipped over to them before that could happen.
"Big Bro, look!" she cried, thrusting a stuffed bear dressed in a clown outfit at Souji. "It looks like Teddie, doesn't it?" Suddenly noticing Souji was not alone, she looked up at Adachi. "Oh, hullo."
"Hiya, Nanako-chan. Say, where'd your dad get off to?"
"He went outside to smoke…"
Adachi laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like him. I can't really picture Dojima-san checking out toys."
Souji had been listening to the exchange absently, his mind elsewhere, so when he spoke up again both Adachi and Nanako looked somewhat surprised by his timing. "Hey, Adachi-san. Why don't you come over for dinner tonight? We haven't seen you in a while."
"Uh…" Adachi looked surprised but seemed to consider the offer.
"Whaddaya say, Nanako? Think we can talk your dad into buying a sushi platter? Without the wasabi, of course." Souji gave her his most charming smile, and almost felt like an asshole for doing it. But he had no doubt that it would do the trick, so what was the harm? And if he knew anything at all about Adachi it was that the man would never turn down free food. Dojima, on the other hand, probably wouldn't be thrilled by the idea. But what did that matter? Three against one spelled good odds that they would all be eating sushi together that night.
Nanako practically beamed. "Yeah! That sounds like fun! Can we do it before I leave?"
"You betcha." Souji tweaked her pigtail playfully before looking to Adachi again. "Well? How about it?"
Adachi rubbed at the back of his neck. "Y-yeah, that sounds nice. Long as Dojima-san's okay with it…"
Souji's disarming smile returned. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure he'd love to."
*
The Dojima house was thrown open, its windows and sliding door thrust wide to invite the slowly cooling breezes from outside. Souji and Nanako had congregated every fan in the house to the living room and, in doing so, managed to eventually establish a tolerable temperature there. Nearby cicadas chirped loudly, acting as a chorus to the animated noises inside.
"And then he came in with 'is electric razor iniz holster!" Adachi sputtered and had to shut his eyes from laughing so hard. "After all that! Can you bulieve it?" Pausing with a serious demeanor, he held out his hand like a mock gun. "'Freeze, er I'll hafta shave you!'" He doubled over at his own impression, nearly spilling his beer all over the carpet.
"Enough already, Adashi," Dojima warned from his seat on the couch, but couldn't help chuckling himself.
Souji laughed along with them as he sat next to Nanako and Adachi at the living room table. The sushi platter atop had sat empty for some time; though both crushed beer cans and tipped sake cups had been joining it in a steadily growing pile.
As Adachi continued narrating embarrassing stories from work, Souji was almost content with how the evening had progressed. He wanted their time together to be lighthearted and fun. So long as Adachi didn't say anything stupid in his drunken state to set Dojima off. His eyes discreetly studied his uncle without directly looking at him. It appeared as though Dojima was well on his way to getting completely and thoroughly hammered. Fucking lush.
Glancing over, Souji noticed Nanako fidgeting with an abandoned sake label that Adachi had peeled from the bottle some time ago. He leaned close to her so she could better hear him through Adachi's hysterics.
"What's up? Not having fun?"
Nanako smiled at him, but he could see it wasn't completely genuine. "They're getting drunk, aren't they?"
Souji nodded and twisted his mouth into a look conveying regret.
Casting her eyes back to her distraction, she sighed. Souji smiled and snatched the paper from her fingers, immediately setting to work on folding it. In no time, a crane rested in her palm.
"Wow! You're really good!" she gasped.
Souji shrugged. "I practice a lot."
"H-hey there, kidsh! Whatcha got there?" Adachi leered over the table in their direction and swayed a little.
Nanako held the paper crane up so everyone could better see. "Look what Big Bro made!"
"Oh, Shouji-kun, yer pretty good with yer hands!" Adachi grinned like a lunatic before taking another drink from his can. "Kid's talented, huh, Dojima-san?"
Dojima stood and walked unsteadily toward the refrigerator. "He knows 'is stuff."
"I was never real good at artsy shtuff," Adachi all but confided with regret.
"Well, I'm not very talented either," Nanako replied.
"Oh nonsensh, Nanako-chan. Yer Dojima-san's daughter, so you muss be good at somethin'." He happily accepted the beer offered to him once Dojima returned, and quickly lost his train of conversation in favor of more antics.
Souji turned back to Nanako. "Hey, if you want to head over to your friend's you don't need to feel like you should hang around. They'll probably get out of control soon anyway."
"Can I?" She looked back up to him, hesitant yet hopeful. It was clear she had been wanting to escape for a while now.
"Yeah, you should go have fun with your friends, too." Settling a hand on her back, he stood with her. "I'll help you pack up."
She contentedly allowed Souji to assist her before the two were back in the living room, with Nanako saying her goodnights and farewells in return for wishes from the men to stay safe and have fun. Then, she was out the door.
Souji excused himself to the kitchen immediately after, busying himself with washing the dishes from that morning and listening absently to the blather behind him. He could tell that Adachi wouldn't last much longer. And as his uncle committed more frequent slurs as well, Souji wondered if they would both pass out soon. He had hoped so.
*
Souji's wishes had been granted hardly an hour later, with Dojima already splayed out and snoring lightly on the couch, a beer still nestled half empty in his lax grip. He took that as his cue and got up from the kitchen table to wander over to Adachi, who was slumped against the sofa's arm, just barely clinging to consciousness himself.
"Already knocked out, huh? Hey, would you mind helping me get him upstairs, Adachi-san?"
Adachi looked up and blinked heavily. "Suuure thing, kiddo." He stood, swaying dangerously, before leaning over to poke Dojima's arm. "Dojima-san, itsh time fer beeed." He giggled.
Dojima grumbled something unintelligible before rolling his head straight. "Oh, uh kay."
Souji and Adachi helped him to stand up before the three of them walked with little grace toward the stairway.
"I-I can do it!" Dojima snapped tiredly as they reached the railing. He broke free from them and managed to tromp slowly upward, still holding his beer and bracing his weight heavily against that bar of support.
Once he disappeared around the corner at the top, Adachi heaved a sigh. "Wow, he did it. I dun think I coulda made it up those shtairs truthfully."
Souji rested a hand on Adachi's shoulder and guided him back to the living room. "You'd better crash on the couch tonight. I'd be pretty worried if you left as you are right now."
The detective didn't seem to have any plans to raise an objection. He nodded sluggishly and tumbled in a rumpled mess facedown over the cushions. "Gosh, such a nice kid…."
Souji listened in amused satisfaction as Adachi quickly fell into a lull of steady breathing, broken by an occasional snore. He had fallen asleep with his suit jacket on. Souji had made a mental note earlier that day as to the obvious shape nestled within its inner pocket, and made good on carrying his plan out.
Reaching down and carefully pulling Adachi's jacket up, he trained his eyes on the man's face for any flicker of distress. The handcuffs were easy to extract. A tiny pair of keys rested in the bottom of the folds, and Souji briefly considered before pilfering those as well. He pocketed the keys and lowered the jacket again, relieved that Adachi hadn't stirred all the while. After switching off the lights, Souji moved stealthily up the stairs.
Dojima had left his door open, and Souji could tell that the man was already passed out once again. The light from the dying sun washed the room in a hazy red glow from the open window, though it was not difficult to see. Dojima lay on his back on the barely made-up futon, his arms flung up around his head. Souji nearly laughed at how easy this was going to be, but held his bitter excitement in check.
After carefully stepping over his uncle's body, Souji slid the window shut as quietly as he could before drawing the drapes closed most of the way, leaving a gap so that the room wasn't completely swathed in darkness. He silently turned back and approached, kneeling down next to the futon, and studied Dojima's passive face. The adrenaline he had felt that morning returned with a staggering vehemence. The handcuffs clinked softly in his clamped and sweating fist.
"You deserve worse," he whispered. "Much worse. But…"
Carefully arranging Dojima's arms closer to one another, he snapped the cuffs down over those large wrists just tightly enough to bind but cause little pain. Though, he was of a mind right then to break them if he could. Dojima stirred and mumbled, but didn't awaken. Souji glowered down at him, the red light reflecting in his pale eyes.
He was pissed off, of that there was no question, but he wasn't turned on. Not even remotely so. If he was going to get anywhere with this, he'd have to prepare himself first.
Unzipping his pants, Souji reached into his boxers and teased his fingers over his cock before gripping it fully. Closing his eyes, he conjured various dirty images in his mind's eye to assist him in getting off. It was slow work, but he managed to coax it to life at least. He paused to kick his clothes off from the waist down before resuming his task. Once his mind wandered over what he was doing, or rather, what he planned to do, his heart sped up. He fantasized Dojima giving in to him, begging for mercy and spouting off frantic apologies for what he had done. For whatever reason—and Souji was not in the mind to dwell on it—his erection finally met his palm with anticipation.
He gave it a few more strokes, relishing the sensation and groaning low in his throat, before seizing Dojima's belt. It came undone with ease. He had little trouble with the pants from there, and soon he had managed to pull them off completely before tossing them aside. It was when he had to yank the man's underpants from their snagged position on his foot that Souji found himself faced with the inevitable.
"W-what's…" Dojima opened his eyes tiredly and found Souji there, crouched between his clearly undressed legs. He was about to sit up and complain, but Souji had lurched forward and clapped a hand firmly over his mouth.
Souji leaned into the body below his, allowing his hard state to brush over Dojima's groin. "Shut up," he whispered, low and harsh. "I'm giving the orders this time."
Judging by the look in the man's eyes, Dojima's inebriation seemed to have drained away. He hung suspended between a state of utter disbelief and that of horrified anger. But the alcohol was still strong in his veins, and he was at a decided physical disadvantage. He attempted to pull his arms down to push Souji off of him but, finding himself bound and cuffed, he could only struggle in useless indignation.
Souji knew very well that it was only a matter of time before Dojima would figure out that he could bring his hands down hard and bash him in the back of the neck with the metal chain, but he wouldn't let that happen. Grinding into the body beneath him, he snorted blackly when he felt a twitch of response.
Instead of calling Dojima on it, he announced a warning. "I wouldn't try anything funny. I've got the keys to those cuffs. Right here." He gestured toward the pants crumpled at his feet. "It'll only take a second to unlock them and then I can scream." Pulling his body up closer, he hovered his lips at Dojima's ear. "And I will if I have to, the way I should have last night. I'll scream bloody murder until Adachi comes running. And then how's that gonna look? Even if you tried to explain, no one would ever believe you."
Souji moved back down and provoked Dojima's arousal further, finally releasing his hand from that mouth. To further enforce the seriousness of his threat, he gripped the collar of his shirt with both hands and tugged hard, ripping it down the middle. Dojima didn't say anything for a moment; he didn't have to. Souji half-smiled. If the light hadn't already darkened, Souji would have seen that his face had paled significantly.
"You're out of your mind," Dojima finally accused.
"Really? You seem more of an expert on this type of thing." Souji reached for the beer bottle that had miraculously stayed upright when it was set aside and upended its now-warm contents over his cock.
Before giving himself any time to doubt his actions or consider the actual attractiveness of this retribution, he gripped Dojima's thighs, pulling them up and separating them simultaneously, and pushed himself inside. He wouldn't waste time with prep work. Souji would rather have it hurt. It was hot and tight, and he had to stop for a moment to adjust to that foreign sensation.
Dojima practically choked on his shock and agony. A strangled cry ripped from his throat when he felt Souji's unwelcome penetration.
Souji ignored that protest. Instead he eased into a rhythm, and that tightness gradually allowed him more and more access. It was actually far better than he'd thought it would be. Not that he was completely surprised; his own responses had been dismayingly pleasurable at some point when he was forced to be that end. Still, he thought he preferred it this way, as the one in control.
Dojima was doing a good job keeping his reactions at bay. An occasional wince or labored breath broke the lull, but otherwise Souji couldn't rightfully tell how his thrusting was being received. He kept going, picking up his pace when his body demanded it.
Even still, despite his desire for revenge, Souji was curious. Brushing his hand over Dojima's cock, he was surprised to still find it half hard.
"You're enjoying this." It was more of an accusation than a statement. Souji gripped his hand over it tightly all the same, pumping with nothing short of brutality until it enlarged in his hand. "Aren't you?"
"Shut the fuck up," Dojima growled. "You have no idea what you're doing."
Souji took that as an affirmation. Instead of pissing him off, though, it somehow excited him further. He began to thrust slower but more deeply, timing his hand with the action, and was rewarded with a shuddering groan. God, he really is getting off.
His own climax was not far off. He let go of Dojima's erection and focused his energy instead on simply fucking the body under him. That mindless animalism wouldn't last long. Souji was nothing short of surprised when Dojima's arms came down with a metallic tinkling, reaching over and drawing Souji's hand back onto his neglected cock. But Souji could hardly concentrate on two things at once right then. He fumbled clumsily before his arousal summited.
Pulling out, he took up Dojima's cock and proceeded to grind their erections together, with his hand braced beneath to keep them from slipping apart. It only took a moment of that intimate rubbing before Souji moaned and shuddered deep, cursing as his cock erupted hot come over the both of them. With that fresh lubrication easing Souji's continued work, Dojima came up fast on his heels.
Souji was standing and fumbling with his pants almost as soon as it was over. He quickly threw his legs back into his clothes before turning to look down at Dojima, who didn't seem to be wearing any expression whatsoever. With a sigh, he extracted the handcuff's keys from his pocket and bent down to unlock the restraints. Once unfastened, he threw their keys down onto Dojima's chest.
"Adachi'll probably be looking for those tomorrow morning. Be sure to return them, will you?" Souji sneered and began to leave the room.
"You're satisfied now?"
Souji paused in the door's threshold, turning to look over his shoulder. Dojima had sat up, rubbing his wrists and meeting Souji's eyes with equal disdain. They stared each other down for a moment, the atmosphere between them seething. Souji wouldn't reply. Instead, he turned and quietly left. Before he could make it to his own bedroom, he heard Dojima curse, and Souji smiled bitterly to himself before shutting his door behind him.
*
The next morning awakened Souji strangely refreshed. Birds chirped noisily outside his window as he changed his clothes and made his way downstairs. Adachi was already up, rubbing his temples with a pained expression. He looked up at Souji and smiled weakly.
"Mornin'."
Souji smiled back. "Need some aspirin?"
"Yeah. Actually that would be great." Adachi stood up slowly and began to adjust his clothes. Realization seemed to dawn on him, and he patted his breast pocket before turning his attention to the couch. He ran a hand into its creases. "Hmm. That's weird."
Souji had been filling a glass with water when Dojima came down the stairs, his face set in a firm expression.
"Mornin', Dojima-san," Adachi said with an edge of apology in his voice.
Dojima walked straight up to him and thrust the cuffs into Adachi's hands without a word.
"W-what?" Adachi stuttered in surprise. "How did you…um, I mean…I can't really remember what happened last night…"
Souji returned, deliberately brushing past Dojima, and handed the water and pills over to Adachi. "It's probably better if you don't know."