Jyabura was pouting, which wasn't an unlikely or unusual occurrence, let alone infrequent. (What was improbable was the likelihood of Jyabura allowing it to be referred to as "pouting". He much preferred "brooding" or something else more masculine and adult in tone.) Now, it wasn't that Kaku was curious so much as that he didn't want Jyabura to be in an irascible funk for the rest of the day, because it would pollute the aura of the entire room, again, and it would take hours and a lot of Kumadori doing that odd chanting and waving thing to get it back to normal. So, to his personal dismay and with much trepidation, he approached the sulking wolf zoan and tentatively inquired as to the nature of the problem.

"Jyabura?" Kaku began, sidling into the break room and closing the door behind him with care, so as not to disturb the air flow of the room or something else that would surely cause Jyabura to fly into an unwarranted rage. "Is something the matter?"

"Mreah," said Jyabura. The word, or rather sound, didn't mean anything by itself. The inflection he used made it out to mean "Nothing, you stupid herbivore, I'm just thinking, and it's not about anything that concerns you so leave me alone."

Kaku took a bolstering deep breath and tried again, edging toward a chair. "Come on, now. What's wrong?"

Jyabura grunted in denial of the very suggestion that anything could possibly be wrong. He was sitting in the middle of the sofa with his arms crossed petulantly over his chest and his heels spread apart and resting on the tile floor; it was a "don't come near me" posture if Kaku had ever seen one, automatically marking this attempted conversation as a bad idea, but Kaku wasn't the type to give up, so he soldiered on.

"I'm only trying to help, you know."

This earned him a deeper frown and suspicious glare shot from the corner of one eye. "Fine, whatever. Pushy bastard. I'm just horny, is all."

Oh, yes. I knew there was a reason this was a bad idea, said Kaku's brain, just before shutting down in self defense. It started up again after a moment out of necessity, having removed the offensive two seconds of memory but leaving Kaku with the scandalized and quite distressing sense that something traumatic had just been stated. Then, as was inevitable, the words caught back up with him like a snapped rubber band and cracked him right in the temple. "I…really didn't need to know that."

"Well, you asked," was the loud and mildly affronted rejoinder. Kaku had to concede that he did, in fact, ask. He made a mental note never to ask Jyabura a question again for as long as he lived, which wouldn't be difficult considering that the hard, angry stare Jyabura was giving him indicated that his lifespan wouldn't be much longer anyway.

"Yes, well. Sorry about that. I'll just be leaving, then." He got up and moved toward the door, but stopped in his tracks when Jyabura heaved a long, tortured sigh. Right. He was here to be consoling. Though he couldn't possibly imagine how—actually, yes he could, and then his brain had to reboot again. He turned back around and looked at the huddled mass of irate assassin on the sofa. "Would you like some coffee? I can make some coffee."

He received a mistrustful glower for his efforts, followed by an indifferent sneer and a shrug of one shoulder. Kaku, taking this as an assent, went and made some coffee and thought about things that didn't involve Jyabura being—oh god, thought about things like mission reports and training and what was that latest fascinating rumor Fukurou had dragged in, and where was the non-dairy creamer, and he felt a little better by the time the coffee was finished.

"Here. Sorry, did you want sugar with that?"

By way of an answer, Jyabura swatted one hand in the air and then grabbed the proffered mug, so roughly that it jerked and splashed some of its contents onto Kaku's hand and the sofa. Kaku hissed and waved his hand in the air, futilely, and then jammed the affected fingers into his mouth. Be nice, Kaku. Do not yell at your teammate for spilling hot coffee on you, even if he does look completely unapologetic…just sit down and drink your coffee…

Kaku sat down and drank his coffee, and didn't yell at his teammate, even though he did look completely unapologetic. It was good coffee, at least. Focus on the coffee. Jyabura did look slightly less grumpy now that he was imbibing caffeine. That was good.

"The man-hating harpy isn't helping any, you know," Jyabura said suddenly, breaking the blessed silence and Kaku's carefully constructed detached coffee-trance. He shook his head a little and looked up.

"How's that?"

Jyabura snorted and slurped some more coffee. Who in their right mind, Kaku thought mechanically, slurps hot coffee. And the answer, of course, was no one. "She's fucking taunting me, the bitch. You look at her and she calls you out on sexual harassment. Well, she wants me to look, just so she can call me out on it. It's annoying as hell."

"Now," Kaku said reasonably, sipping his coffee and hoping against hope that it would serve as an example of proper beverage-drinking conduct, "I'm sure she isn't purposefully—"

"She was dancing," Jyabura interrupted, giving Kaku a triumphant glare over the top of his mug. "You remember that undercover mission where she was supposed to get the target's attention while we snuck in and stole the files? It was at a party and there was music…"

Oh. Kaku remembered. He'd never really seen what the fuss was about women, and Kalifa's little attention-getting display had still been…interesting. He also distinctly remembered having had to be the figurative wild horse that dragged Jyabura away. By his tie.

"She was doing that dance?" he said weakly, and regained a firm grip on the handle of his mug.

"That dance," Jyabura said sourly, swirling his coffee. "I'm telling you, she has it out for me."

If that dance had been involved, Kaku decided, then perhaps Kalifa really did have it out for him. That was rather underhanded of her, really. No; the word for it was low. "That does seem a little unfair, admittedly."

"Oh, you're telling me? You didn't even see it." He snorted again and swigged his coffee. Kaku, who had quite and adequate imagination, thank you, made a dissenting sound into his drink. Jyabura raised an eyebrow, but refrained from comment.

"Well, she's out on a mission now, I believe," Kaku remarked. "I suppose that means there's nothing more to worry about, then?"

Jyabura gave him a very pointed look until Kaku became vaguely embarrassed, cleared his throat, and looked away. "Shit," Jyabura said at length. "I really, really need to get laid."

"Jyabura," Kaku said suddenly, setting his mug down on the coffee table with an audible and significant clack. "I really don't want to think about you having sex, all right? I'm sorry."

"Well, neither do I," Jyabura said, surprisingly reasonable, between gulps of coffee. "Because if I do I'm gonna have kind of a problem."


"Yeah, yeah. Sorry."

Kaku rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. "No you aren't."

He looked up to see Jyabura smirking in grim satisfaction. "Nah, not really."

Silence descended upon the room, interrupted only by the sounds of coffee being consumed and the scrape of leather on denim when Kaku crossed his right foot onto his left knee. Eventually, Jyabura finished his coffee and banged the empty mug down onto the end table with an abrupt commotion that made Kaku jump, coffee level mercifully too low to cause another spill. "How much longer do you suppose you'll be in a bad mood?" Kaku asked, attempting to sound light and probably failing due to the annoyance weaving its way unbidden into his tone.

"Until I can get somebody to have sex with me," Jyabura said flatly, and Kaku tensed up, hands clamping down hard on chair arm and mug handle.

"Okay," Kaku said, taking deep breaths. "Why don't we talk about something else?"

"Yeah, sure, fine." Jyabura scratched behind his ear absently and let his elbow rest on the back of the couch, staring at the opposite wall. "So?"

Kaku thought that Jyabura probably owed him a topic change, but it seemed that the responsibility would fall on his own shoulders. Fine then. "So, nice weather today."

"It's fifty-two degrees and cloudy," Jyabura pointed out, a bit distractedly. Kaku tipped his head in acquiescence to this fact.

"This is true. Uh, did you see the new recruits?"

"Yeah. Sorry lot if you ask me."

Kaku had to agree. However, he didn't have to agree out loud. "Oh, I think a few of them have promise. What about…um…have you read any good books lately?"

"The only things I've read in the past six months were work-related," Jyabura said.

"Oh. What about before that?"

"Back of a cereal box."

"Right. Well, then…I'm out of ideas."

"Hmph," Jyabura acknowledged. There was a tense silence, long and stretched as taut as a bowstring. Eventually, Jyabura made a noise of wretched, bleak frustration and thumped the back of his head on the sofa. "Fuck, I'm horny…"

"All right," Kaku said, no sooner than the words were out of Jyabura's mouth, and stood up, setting his coffee aside. This had to be taken care of, and Kaku, being a Cipher Pol 9 agent, last line of defense between good and evil and, if need be, good and sexually frustrated werewolves, was apparently the only man for the job. "I've had just about enough of this, thank you, and I won't stand by while you contaminate the entire building with your aura of discontent."

"Well, if you don't like it, you can—what are you doing?" Jyabura said, and then words seemed to escape him, because all he did when Kaku climbed onto the sofa in font of him and shoved him back by the shoulder with one hand while untying his sash with the other was gape in shock.

"Getting you laid," Kaku said with all the sardonic exasperation that wasn't already being used up by the commanding officer of the new recruits. "Honestly, sometimes I doubt your ability to recognize simple—stop that, I know how to untie a knot. Good lord."

"I…you…get off me," Jyabura protested, but it was a weak protest. Part of it was shock, and the other part was several months of involuntary celibacy that were currently catching up to him with a violent vengeance because there was a willing body not only within reach but on his lap and unbuttoning his pants and that was a very difficult offer to simply refuse.

Kaku, determined frown in place, convinced himself that he was doing the general population of Enies Lobby a service. This was going to be hell to justify to himself later, and it was going to be hell to deal with at present, but really, anything to get Jyabura to shut up for once. And then Jyabura swallowed audibly and opened his mouth to speak and Kaku instantly regretted having just dropped the sash on the floor because he could've crammed it into Jyabura's mouth instead.

"I-I don't, I'm not," Jyabura started to say, hands fisting into the cover of the sofa as Kaku yanked his pants down his hips. "I don't like men…"

"That's nice," Kaku said, and shoved his hand into Jyabura's underwear. "Do us a favor and stop talking."

Jyabura made a noise, feral and just on the wrong side of unholy. "You—"

"No," said Kaku, in the tone of one correcting a small child, "I said 'stop talking'. Do you know what means?" He wrapped his hand around Jyabura's erection and squeezed, and Jyabura's head jerked in a way that Kaku decided to take as an affirmative response. "Good. Just…try to keep your mouth shut."

Jyabura was no good at keeping his mouth shut, as it turned out, even under implied threat of having the "getting laid" offer revoked. To his credit, he did appear to be trying; it just wasn't working at all, really. Not that he was using actual words, either, but he kept making noises, stifled groans and low-throated gasps that were making it oddly difficult for Kaku to concentrate. "Fuck," Jyabura said, the word almost lost in the explosive breath that delivered it. "I…I…ohgod…"

"You really haven't gotten any in a while, have you?" Kaku said mildly, amused against his will, and stroked the head of Jyabura's cock with his thumb because he'd really seemed to like that the last time—yes, he did that convulsing thing like before and groaned, apparently incapable of coherent speech at the moment. If nothing else, Kaku had discovered a foolproof way of shutting Jyabura up. "One would think your hands don't work…"

"Shut up, I just don't…I don't…dothatagain," Jyabura panted in response, and tried to thrust into Kaku's hand, which wasn't working because he was pinned by the weight straddling his lap. "Nng. I just don't ever, hn…"

"Well, why not?" said Kaku, because that didn't seem at all practical; no wonder he was so frustrated, but also he didn't really care because it was somehow gratifying to be able to reduce Jyabura to an inarticulate, writhing mess without the use of narcotics. It was almost, heaven forbid, fun for some twisted reason, and that was an avenue of thought that Kaku didn't particularly want to traverse while jacking off somebody he didn't even like all that much.

"Just…just because, I don't know, hell," said Jyabura, and let his head fall back against the sofa, one hand bunching the sofa material and the other clenched hard onto Kaku's thigh.

Kaku was starting to feel kind of silly just sitting there and staring at the sofa next to Jyabura's head, so he leaned in and latched his mouth onto Jyabura's exposed throat because, well, it was right there in front of him, and because he could, and because he wasn't questioning his own motives too strongly at the moment and part of his brain was probably just trying to get away with what it could and he was just going to be okay with that for the time being and worry about it later. Besides, Jyabura really seemed to like it, and it was mostly worth it just to feel him shudder and hear him gasp.

But then the one of Jyabura's hands that wasn't clutching spasmodically at Kaku's leg grabbed onto the front of his top and dove under it, splaying over his abdomen, and then Jyabura's mouth was on his ear and that wasn't right because he wasn't supposed to be—oh dear.

"Don't," Kaku warned, and tried to pull away, but Jyabura growled something—no, not something, it was just a growl, animal and hungry—and pulled him back. "What are you doing?"

"Returning the favor," Jyabura snarled, and bit the tendon at the side of Kaku's neck which really shouldn't have felt as good as it did, damn giraffe instincts, "because if I don't get you off you're gonna act all fucking superior."

Kaku, who'd had every intention of acting superior but didn't see how that was any different than usual, honestly tried to protest. He really did. It just didn't work at all, really. "This is really not a good idea, it really, really isn't, we shouldn't be doing this, I hope you realize, and if you could, just a little to the left would be good."

Okay, perhaps he wasn't trying as hard as he could have. But in all honesty, Kaku really hadn't gotten any in about as long as Jyabura apparently had, and it turned out that taking a more practical approach to it wasn't helping as much as he'd assumed. So, against all better judgment, he arched his neck back to allow Jyabura better access and unzipped the front of his tracksuit so that the hand wandering over his chest wasn't quite so trapped. This will not end well, a voice in the back of his head muttered direly, and Kaku found himself both agreeing and not caring anymore.

Especially when Jyabura's tongue slid behind his ear and a pair of hands started to industriously work the front of his pants open. That's when he threw all concern out the window for good.

"You don't get to blame this on me later," said Jyabura's voice against his ear, grim and serious but for the slur of pleasure in the words.

"Okay, okay," Kaku agreed, because he couldn't think of anything else to say now that Jyabura's hand was on his cock, because honestly, there wasn't anything more important than that (or if there was, his brain wasn't coming up with anything, so clearly it didn't matter anyway). God, that felt good

"Fuck, this is weird," Jyabura said, and nervous laughter gave way to a hiss and a moan. "Just…ah, doesn't matter, just keep…hmm…"

"Yeah," Kaku agreed, but to which point he wasn't sure. He panted and squirmed and eventually, a low, frustrated groan reached his ears and the point at which Kaku realized it had come from himself was the point at which he also realized that this, what they were doing, wasn't going to be enough, and that was really annoying because it had been psychologically problematic to arrange the current happenings and he couldn't possibly imagine—well, yes he could, and that promptly made it worth trying.

He should have realized, however, that taking his hand away from the task it was involved in wasn't going to go over well. In fact, it went over rather badly, to the point that Jyabura snarled and lurched forward a little, grabbing Kaku's shoulders in apparent anger (which of course meant that he was leaving Kaku unattended as well, meaning that Kaku suddenly found himself in sharp empathy of Jyabura's situation), but Kaku only shoved Jyabura back against the sofa, pinning him—20 extra Douriki, don't fail me now—and moved forward, grinding his own erection against Jyabura's in a way that ostensibly made the wolf zoan forget that he'd been angry and that made Kaku forget why he'd felt sorry for him, and there, that was much better.

"Y'know," Jyabura began, settling his hands on Kaku's hips and thrusting forward, "I just…wanted to be alone, and you had to, ah, come along and ruin it, you stupid…mm, can't ever just leave me the…oh fuck…alone, can you? Always just…thinking up new ways to—"

"Jyabura," Kaku said, as harshly as he could manage, but his voice didn't sound very much like it should. It sounded rough and hazy, which didn't really matter at all because god it feels good and why won't he stop talking and—"Shut up." He wrapped an arm around the back of Jyabura's neck and yanked his head to one side and kissed him, hard and messy like the way they were moving against each other, lips crashing together and bruising—

oh no I really shouldn't have done that

—and Jyabura tipped his head up and gripped the back of Kaku's head with one hand and snaked his tongue into Kaku's mouth, twining and reaching and teeth clacked together, panting breath mingling in the close space, and everything about it was just so wrong, but it didn't matter because then Jyabura bit down on Kaku's lower lip and bucked his hips and Kaku, who was quickly discovering the joys of not giving a damn, came with a choked cry muffled against Jyabura's mouth.

…and that was probably wrong too. But that really, really didn't matter at all.

"Hnn," said Kaku, experimentally. He had his forehead pressed against Jyabura's shoulder and was breathing hard, and yes, that did appear to be the only thing he could articulate at the time being. Unfortunately, Jyabura (who was really almost as bad at keeping his mouth shut as Fukurou was, as long as the opportunity to piss someone off existed) was not thus handicapped.

"Get off me," he muttered, pushing uselessly at Kaku's shoulder. Jyabura had also come at some point, apparently, but Kaku really hadn't been paying attention. He shifted over to the left, effectively falling off of Jyabura and against the back of the sofa, where he sat in a comfortable daze for a long moment.

"Well," he said eventually. Ah, there was his ability to speak…he'd rather missed it. "That was interesting."

Jyabura snorted, neither in agreement or dissent, and made no effort to move. Kaku shuffled his foot across the floor until it encountered something made of cloth—Jyabura's sash. He lifted it from the ground with his foot, shook some of the dust bunnies that had collected between the sofa and the coffee table, and used it to clean himself off before tossing it to Jyabura and zipping up his pants and top. Jyabura picked the sash out of the air and held it where it was, staring at it in disgust. He transferred the gaze to Kaku, looking as though he were about to say something.

"Don't give me that look; you have nine of those. Besides, we have color bleach in the laundry room now and half of it was your fault anyway." He got to his feet and stretched languidly, making a perfunctory effort to convince himself that he shouldn't feel as good as he did.

"Eight," Jyabura said, trying to sound upset, made use of the cloth, and proceeded to wad it up in different configurations until he made a bundle small enough to cram most of it in his pocket. "And it was your idea, so it's your fault."

"My idea?" said Kaku. He picked up his hat from where it had been shoved off and landed on the floor. "You were the one who wouldn't stop talking about your problem. I solved it for you. This is somehow a fault of mine?"

"Look," Jyabura said in a very grave, matter-of-fact tone that made Kaku stop picking dust bunnies from his hat to actually turn around and look. "We don't talk about this. We don't tell anyone about this. The way I see it, we both got something out of it, so we're even. That means we're done, got it?"

Kaku nodded, and Jyabura eyed him in suspicion until he seemed satisfied, at which point he muttered something unintelligible and doubtless nasty under his breath and headed for the door.

As he put his hat back on, realization struck Kaku like a lead pole to the back of the head. He grinned momentarily, then composed himself. "Jyabura."


"You realize, of course, that I am not actually bothered by the fact that I just had sex with someone male, right?"

Jyabura stopped in his tracks. "…okay…your point?"

"But you are."

"…yeah, but—"

"And if, say, Fukurou were to find out about what just happened, my reputation wouldn't be affected at all, whereas yours…"

His back was turned, but Kaku heard Jyabura's knuckles crack and practically saw the wheels turning in his head. "What do you want."

"Just don't speak to me for the rest of the week unless ordered. No matter what. Not even if I go zoan and bang my head on the doorframe again."

There was a very brief pause. "Done."

"Have a nice day," Kaku said blithely, as Jyabura wrenched the door open and stomped out, growling to himself about stupid herbivores.

Kaku turned and looked around the room. Why yes, the aura in here seemed quite nice, now…

He collected the used coffee mugs and took them to the sink, whistling a tune about nothing in particular as he went.