HEAVY INSPIRATION FROM electricprince’s mafia/yakuza au designs and ‘six shooter’ by coyote kisses~
daisuga mafia au (do i need to put this under a cut fuCK it is too long)
“Client to see you, boss,” Tanaka says, inviting himself into Daichi’s ‘office’ without another word.
Tanaka looks more skittish than usual. Huh.
Daichi relaxes back into the cushions of his couch, spreading his arms out across the back of the couch and exposing his bare chest even more. He takes a deep breath of the incense-thick air of the room and slides his eyes half-closed, setting a confident but not antagonistic smile on his face. If Tanaka was jumpy, then he had to be ready for anything.
Daichi knows how these deals work. Any moment now, and a businessman will come through the door, dressed in too fine of a suit, mopping his sweaty brow with a monogrammed handkerchief. He’ll cough at the unfamiliar heaviness of the air; his pulse will rise when he sees the entirely red painted walls and furnishings of the room, exuding a sense of violence and power, centering all on Daichi, alpha male posture and cool strength. And if not a businessman, then a gang leader. A politician. A wealthy woman with a husband or lover to dispose of. Terrorists, everyday people—anyone with the money can present their case to Daichi.
He’s a master at this—throwing off any sense of calm and self-confidence his clients had. Daichi ensures that in every deal, he is in control. Daichi controls the sides of the bargain, the tone and topic of discussion, the final decision. And if the client doesn’t like the terms, he can either run with his tail between his legs or end up with a bullet through his skull. That’s Daichi’s business—a hard-line mafia that plays by their own rules and are never, ever bullied by a client.
The click of his next client’s shoes reaches Daichi’s ears. Businessman or politician, then… Daichi thinks, relaxing even further. What the hell was Tanaka so worked up over? These guys were easy as putty to mold to his will and intimidate.
The client slips into the room like a ghost, and the entire atmosphere changes.
Daichi almost tenses in apprehension.
The client is not a businessman or a politician—that much is certain. In fact, Daichi’s not entirely sure he’s human. He’s frighteningly pale from hair color to skin to the light brown of his eyes. The man is dressed in a smart black vest and tie over a white dress shirt, his pants fitting snugly but well, giving off the sense of a smart and sensible young blue blood. He can’t be more than a few years younger than Daichi. Most interesting, though, are the black gloves he wears over his hands. Daichi is suspicious and curious all at once, a deadly combination.
The young man invites himself to the chair in front of Daichi without a word, bowing and then settling down immediately, crossing his legs. He grabs a bunch of grapes off of the table of hors d’oeuvres situated between them. He bites off a single grape from the bunch with a flash of bright white teeth.
“My name is Sugawara Koushi, and I have some loose ends for you to take care of,” the client says once he swallows.
Daichi is floored. So are the rest of his crew.
On the one hand, all Daichi’s instincts are screaming at him to slit this insolent bastard’s throat and throw his convulsing carcass out into the street as an example. That’s the right choice, the choice that his group expects from him as a leader who commands fear into the hearts of all his clients. But on the other hand, there’s something charismatic and foolishly courageous about this aristocrat that makes Daichi want to hear him out. It’s not every day Daichi stumbles upon someone who challenges his authority without batting an eyelash.
“Go on,” Daichi rumbles, making sure to keep from showing any of the interest he feels.
Sugawara pops another grape into his mouth. “I have a certain…interest…in my father’s company. He’s made it clear to me that I’m to be the heir, as has been the case in the Sugawara family for generations, but there are a few bitter board members and partner companies that wouldn’t mind a change in the hierarchy or a company merger. My little spies have told me exactly who is plotting and what they’re plotting, so all I need now are some experts to create some…unfortunate…ends for these challengers.” He finishes off the last grapes with a hum of satisfaction.
“Ah, but I haven’t made my request entirely clear. You see, even if these interlopers were to conveniently die off, there are many people who may become suspicious and investigate. Furthermore, my father has turned down partnerships with some unsavory peoples or groups on moral grounds. This is unacceptable, so I’d also like to get rid of him, too. In order to do all of this, I’d like to become a patron of the Karasuno Group, Sawamura Daichi-san.” The smile on his face is wicked in its innocence. “Your very first.”
Daichi leans forward, resting his arms on his splayed legs. “You seem to be well-versed in our policy, Sugawara. So I believe you will understand me when I say that permanent partnerships are not of any value to us. We dislike being indebted to anyone—rather, we prefer people to be indebted to us. I hope you’ll understand.”
Sugawara leans forward too, mimicking Daichi’s position. “I’m very disappointed to hear that,” he murmurs, turning his eyes from Daichi’s. Instead, he focuses on rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, revealing pale, untouched skin. The skin of the upper class, spineless purebreds Daichi had always curled his lip at. He wonders why he wants to do something entirely different with his mouth to Sugawara’s skin.
“You haven’t even heard me out yet,” Sugawara pouts slightly. He fixes his second sleeve, and then he lifts his eyes to meet Daichi’s. “I could make it very, very worth your while.”
Daichi isn’t imagining the dilation of Sugawara’s pupils or the way his throat bobs when he swallows. It’s suddenly quite oppressively hot in Daichi’s red room, but he’s thinking with complete clarity. The client is far too close to him, practically dripping sexuality. This, too, has happened before, both with women and men thinking they could seduce their way to a deal.
“The needs of the group always come first,” Daichi replies, amused, but without any venom. He’s calling Sugawara out on his tactics, but he knows that Sugawara knows he’s not entirely unaffected.
Sugawara leans back a little, sighing in mock defeat. “Alright Sawamura-san, you’ve made your point. I guess I’ll just have to wait until after the job to work you over to my side.”
Not going to give up the charade, huh? Daichi thinks. Wait—“After the job?”
Sugawara blinks innocently at him. “Well, of course. I still do need those ‘loose ends’ tied up, you know. A regular job like this is no problem for the Karasuno Group, is it?”
He can’t help it, really, he can’t. This guy…just how foolishly confident is he? Daichi stands up, extending a hand to Sugawara. “Sugawara, if you weren’t so charming, I’d have had Nishinoya put three rounds in your head already. Fine, you’ve got yourself a deal. We’ll meet again to determine the method and amount of payment, as well as the proposed date.”
The young man stands too, gripping Daichi’s hand tightly and shaking it. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding, Sawamura-san,” he purrs.
Daichi claps him on the back, making Sugawara cough a little bit. “Come on, I’ll see you out,” he says, gesturing for Tanaka to stay behind. Daichi fixes Sugawara’s shoulder in a firm grip, as if daring him to try anything on the way out to the main entrance.
“Oh, and Sugawara,” Daichi says conversationally. Sugawara turns to look at him curiously.
In one fluid movement, Daichi pulls his client close to him, one hand weaving through Sugawara’s unusual grey hair and the other shooting to catch his arm, instinctually flailing to push Daichi away when he gasps in surprise. Daichi, far stronger than Sugawara, pins him to his chest, lips brushing the outer shell of his ear when Daichi speaks.
“Don’t promise things you aren’t willing to give, sugar. You should know the mafia take payment very seriously,” he growls, low. Sugawara shudders against him.
When he releases his client, Sugawara takes a step away from him, refusing to look at him for a moment. However, when Sugawara does turn to face him, it’s with an elegantly arched eyebrow and challenging expression. He pulls a card from his breast pocket and slinks up to Daichi, tucking it in the bindings over his abs.
“You name the time and place, isn’t that right, captain?” Sugawara murmurs, matching Daichi’s seductive tone. He presses a kiss to Daichi’s scar, just below his right eye, and backs off, eyes half-lidded and face flushing a little. “I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he adds, before turning and walking out the door with a wave.