Title: The Beginning of All Commotions – Act 3
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Greece/Japan, mentions of other characters and minor pairings in later parts.
Rating/Genre: PG-15 for now, but may go up to M in later chapters / Mafia-AU, Humour, Action.
Warnings: Slight crack, gang warfare, language, booze & smoking.
In this act: In which Herakles offers his assistance and Kiku ends up a little flustered. Awkwardness ensues.

~.*.~

iii.

February 14, 2kXX. 10:43 AM

"You'll need to get someone to look at your arm and shoulder." Herakles said as he followed after his unexpected saviour, jogging to keep up with the other man's quickening steps.

"It's not serious," came the soft reply. The man did not pause to look at him.

"You're still bleeding."

"Please do not worry. It's just a flesh wound."

"Well… at least let me wrap it up for you." Herakles said, persistent. Why he'd said it, he wasn't quite sure, especially since he knew nothing of this strange man. But he'd seen the flicker of discomfort crossing the man's face more than once, and that was enough.

"Please. I owe you my life."

At his words, the man faltered in his tracks, glancing back at Herakles. His gaze was tinged with doubt; after a long, tentative silence, he nodded.

"Forgive my intrusion, but I can't help but wonder… what business did you have with the Lafayettes?"

From the way Kiku was watching him, it was clear to Herakles that the man didn't think he would fit in at all with… well, whatever it was that the Lafayettes made it their business.

Or Kiku's.

They had found an old, abandoned workshop nestled in the slums of Old Nichol. Here, in a decrepit old room hidden from prying eyes and ears, Kiku had allowed Herakles to help dress his wounds.

"None whatsoever," Herakles replied, cleaning away the blood and grime as much as he could with his kerchief. Kiku had been right. There was no trace of foreign objects embedded in the wound; it looked simply to be a graze from either a stray bullet or shrapnel. He was lucky.

"Sadiq and I got into an argument with each other. By the time we'd noticed where we were, the mob started firing at us." His gaze still trained on the back of Kiku's exposed left shoulder, Herakles resisted the urge to gently stroke at the trail of small teal butterflies imprinted against pale skin.

Yakuza? The thought had crossed his mind when Herakles first laid eyes upon the tattoo, but even he had enough sense to refrain from voicing the question. Still, he wondered about this strange man, who had offered only a single name when asked.

"If it wasn't for your appearance, I'm sure I would be lying dead in the streets by now," Herakles continued. He raised his eyes from the tattoo to meet Kiku's impassive gaze. "Thank you."

"It was not truly my intent to rescue you," Kiku admitted, his tone low. "I only noticed you were not part of the group I had been observing. In that sense, I merely reacted out of instinct."

"Is it instinctive of you to aid strangers from certain death?" Herakles ventured carefully. He could feel Kiku shifting slightly in his seat, but the man held Herakles' gaze steadily.

"But you're no stranger, are you Mister Karpusi?" Kiku finally said, a slight edge now present in his otherwise calm voice. "Even if you are one but many, you are still an heir to Romulus' empire. And my cousin is particular about keeping his business associates safe and alive, if possible."

Herakles could only blink, slightly taken aback at the use of his father's name. And then, he gave a short, breathy laugh, his previous suspicions more or less confirmed.

"Who are you searching for?" Herakles asked, slowly ripping up a separate piece of kerchief into thinner strips of cloth.

"A family heirloom, actually. We have a number of probable suspects, the Lafayettes being one of them." Kiku winced, feeling the wound sting. "Though I suppose if they were firing bullets at each other, it seems like they already have their own domestic issues to concern themselves with..."

Herakles continued to dab the wash cloth, washing the wound as gently as he could, before he said, "Let me help you."

Kiku's eyes widened in mild surprise. "What?"

"Let me help you search for the heirloom." Herakles repeated.

"I can't possibly allow that. It's too dangerous."

"I promise I won't run blindly into a fighting mob again."

"That isn't exactly what I meant, Mister Karpusi."

"You can't do this alone, not with your arm like this."

Kiku released tired sigh, lowering his gaze to ground, before allowing the tiniest of smiles to paint his features. "You are a persistent man, Mister Karpusi."

Herakles only gave him a nonchalant smile. "Sometimes, when I set my mind to it."

In all truthfulness, Herakles himself wasn't quite sure why he was so insistent in offering his help, especially when he was now painfully aware of the nature of Kiku's work. There was no guarantee that Kiku would find his stubborn persistence nothing more than mere annoyance; a small obstacle in his quest to finish his job.

There was also no guarantee in the slightest that Kiku would not turn on Herakles and drive his sword through his gut, there and then.

Even so, Herakles found himself somewhat intrigued and drawn to this man. It was stupid, he knew, and he was probably pushing his luck (not that he'd ever thought he had much luck to begin with before), but then again, how often could Herakles say he'd done something entirely different in his mundane, carefree life of heir to one of the world's biggest shipping company? Of something out of the ordinary, other than attending countless business meetings and client proposals?

Perhaps it was for this every reason Herakles would find himself engaging in the occasional fist-fight with Sadiq (although, really, those were entirely the ugly bastard's fault, for always imposing himself on Herakles, and subsequently triggering a violent reaction from him). Herakles was mostly lazy by nature, that much was true, but even he wasn't spared from bouts of boredom, and there were days he would seek out something new, something different.

"How about a compromise then?" Herakles offered, licking his lips tentatively. Kiku turned to meet his gaze once more, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"I'll help you to look for the heirloom, but anytime you feel it's too dangerous for me to continue on with you, I'll leave right away and you don't even have to protect me."

When Kiku only frowned doubtfully at the suggestion, Herakles tried again, quickly adding, "Call it a business associate keeping his honour and repaying you for saving his life, in whatever way he can."

A soft laugh, and then–

"All right, I will concede, as long as you follow my instructions." Kiku's lips remained quirked at the corners, even as a flicker of pain crossed his features at the sting of his wounds.

Herakles nodded in agreement, feeling decidedly pleased with himself.

The low hum of music accompanied by a faint, singing voice emanating indiscernibly from the building next to the workshop they hid themselves in filled the short lull in their conversation. Herakles thought the melody had a tinge of familiarity to it.

"Why were you arguing with Mister Sadiq?" Kiku asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Oh… well," Herakles raised one arm to rub at his nape, before giving Kiku a sheepish grin. "You could say that we've always been rivals of sorts. That greasy bastard deserves to be punched though, he's always the one causing all the trouble."

Herakles frowned, his expression turning grim now, just from recalling the incident. "We were arguing because it turned out that he bought the exact same box of chocolates as I did, and for the same lady too."

"Ah, a love triangle. That must have been difficult indeed."

"That slimeball probably doesn't even like her. He's just jealous."

Kiku chuckled softly again, glancing over Herakles. "You must be quite the ladies' man."

"Nah," Herakles said, shaking his head slowly. "I mean, sure, those girls were all pretty and nice, but I think most of them just wanted company."

He paused as he finished cleaning the wound, and began wrapping the ripped pieces of cloth around Kiku's arm and shoulder. "Sometimes they want sex too, and I don't really mind it if that's what they wish to do. And I enjoy sex, so it's nice to... are you blushing?"

Kiku cleared his throat lightly. "Not exactly."

Even though the lights in the room were dim, Herakles could see that the other man's cheeks were unmistakably pink now. Kiku politely averted his gaze, choosing instead to study the grey and mouldy drapes over the window.

"I am just unused to hearing such... ah, intimate subjects being discussed so publicly out in the open," he offered by way of explanation, his expression as impassive as before.

Herakles cocked his head sideways, silent, as he finished tying the knots of the makeshift bandage. He frowned, brows knitted tightly together as though he was carefully considering his next sentence.

"Are you a virgin?"

"I... No, I am not." Kiku replied flatly, before he blanched, realising he might have revealed too much.

Herakles couldn't suppress the soft laugh from escaping his lips this time.

"You're cute," he said simply, green eyes glowing with mirth. "If we'd met under different circumstances, I might not hesitate to ask you out."

"I'm afraid I don't quite fit into your definition of a 'pretty lady'." Kiku remarked dryly, even as his features were still traced with the slightest hint of a blush.

"That's fine," Herakles said, grinning languidly like a cat drowsy from finishing a bowl of cream, "I like men too."

~.*.~

:::

A/N: A friend/reader once said I wrote Herakles as a little more "playful", and come to think of it, she's right. I do tend to do that, huh? I dunno, while I don't see Greece as the outright-crazy-obsessive, suave flirt with Japan, but I think he has his own subtle charms and he can be smooth sometimes. Considering that he spends a lot of his time thinking very-thinky-'philosophical'-thoughts, I'd say he has the capacity in him to be occasionally witty. Or just a tease.

But I suppose he's mostly just a really, nice guy with a good sense of humour. And Kiku's a closet perv, who gets a little dramatically flustered whenever 'SEX!' is brought up. So it's all good for awkward Giripan UST, y/y?

Anyway, tl;dr, I hope you enjoyed this act as well!