♥ station (madhardcandy) wrote,
♥ station

[fic] happy birthday yan

Title: houses move and houses speak
Pairing: Casey/Taiga
AU; warning for dead bodies and breath/knifeplay lol (I did not grammar check ;_;)
Happy Birthday Yannnnn

They must have realized it the moment they set eyes on each other, amidst the police tape and the fresh crime scene riddled with the scent of blood and antiseptic, that being on the opposite side of the spectrum made them understood each other better than anyone else.

“What is your aberration?” Those were the first words that have been spoken as Casey Anderson, the new blood in the First Unit of the Public Safety Division, were introduced to the group of latent criminals who will aid him with his future investigation. All but the exception of one Kyomoto Taiga whose crime coefficient was not registered in the system simply because the system could not measure his mental state, personality, and the probability that he would not murder anyone in cold blood when you put two sugars in his coffee instead of one and a half.

It was the lack of resources that brought Casey there, knee deep in a mess of a crime scene with high-functioning regulation sociopaths who avoided the end of the law by working in their favor. It was ironic, he thought. More than ironic, it was insane. He had high aptitude tests for other work classes but he chose this one. It was because this was the only category where he didn’t share a similar or close score with the rest of the class. He traded the heavy umbrella for his coat, turning up the collar against the light rain as he followed the forensics team up the hotel. He found him in the hallway, hunched over a burned body or what was left of it. “Each of us has an aberration, a deeply hidden secret. Some might call it perversion.” Taiga told him. “But we also have our best moments where we achieve a goal, a shining moment. Tell me one thing; is it a perversion to do a thing you’re best at?”

Casey was not prepared for the pop quiz or the stench; he had only seen photos in class but the smell of burnt human flesh was new to him. He tried not to vomit on his new shoes. “The first person in the scene was a firefighter. He had dragged her from the room into the hallway to attempt to give her CPR only to discover she had no head or hands.” Casey concentrated on his voice instead, the steady quiet drone echoed in the hallway (moments later he would find himself talking in his head in the same manner) as if he had been reading from a script. There was one thing though, the slight inflection from the mention of lack of head or hands. That at least brought the rookie back to reality that this could have been Christmas morning for his companion.

Out of curiosity, Casey took out the Dominator from his holster, a magnum-esque weapon that could read anyone’s crime coefficient then its setting would determine the course of action he could take: capture, immobilize or kill. “I read your file.” The Dominator, as expected was not able to read him. He didn’t know why he had to say that but it was too late to take it back.

“Then you know my aberration. You also know that I am a glitch and that would make that thing useless against me.” He could hear a smile in his voice again, and Casey tried his best not to look directly at him. “Read me the scene, agent.”

The scoff was evident when Casey came closer. Maybe that was his aberration; he knew he had problems with authority but that was easy to hide. Taking orders from a criminal, not so. But everything in his job description included working with them. He took a languorous breath, hoping he was at least slightly intoxicated for this. He looked at the body, look past it, through it, in just this way when he was having sex, grunting and sweating and believing that there was something there. He looked at the way the vic’s clothes were found folded in the bathtub in a neat stack with her shoes on top of each pile. Whatever the killer used to dismember the body, he took it with him. “She would have been drugged. The body shows signs of prolonged torture—cigarette burns, beatings, and bite marks around the breasts.”

“Good.” Casey rubbed the back of his neck and raised his head to meet the other’s gaze. “Why did he take her head and hands?”


And it was the first time Casey heard him laugh. “No. Not trophies either. Prolonged torture should have been your clue. Her killer is an anger-excitation offender. Judging by the bites, he was also a sadistic-lust offender.” He watched him rub his fingers together. Casey thought he looked disgusted. “I hate these types. They are not methodical. There is no pleasure derived from the killing, only from the torture.”

Insatiable, Casey nodded. He knew the type, the textbook at least. “He would continue the abusing the corpse until he was satisfied.” He saw Taiga clasp his hands together and he felt like he was in kindergarten and his teacher just made a sound of glee when he got his take-aways right. This was a take-away alright; in Tokyo, broken bodies and minds were recycled daily. The system saw to it that the crime coefficient stayed low, any stress factor higher than riding a cramped elevator would be stabilized.

Casey thought of breakfast and if he placed a bookmark on his paperback he left at home.
Two days later, a clerk had been found dumped by a chain-link fence near the parking lot two blocks away from the hotel. She had been cut on the legs, her tongue was missing, and she had been beaten by a blunt instrument. Her hands were there but they showed traces of handcuffs and her mouth was stuffed with her own stockings.


They had chased the killer for months; there was no desk duty for Casey at all. He had accustomed to the life of eating twice a day, running on caffeine and nicotine, and sometimes the pent up energy made him stay up for 48 hours. His crime coefficient tottered at the border. If it kept up, he would be a latent criminal like the hounds in the division. Meanwhile, Taiga’s crime coefficient remained unknown. There was almost a running joke that they were a pair; the crazy one and the one who kept him on the leash. By the third month, Casey thought that it might be the opposite.

He did have a need to solve the case for his own sanity; he cared in that level. Like how Taiga stayed at the headquarters one night to go through victimology because the chase was boring him. And the Division was over budget and he was making good use of his overtime privileges. Simple things like this run the nation and the gods continued to sit on their thrones.

“Do you have an answer for me now, agent?” Taiga piped, his voice leaping through every corner of the Public Safety Division Headquarters. Casey was used to it.

He turned slowly to him, stacks of papers which could only be lab reports sat on his desk. “I didn’t realize there was a question.”

Taiga threw his head back in laughter. “Your aberration. What is it?”

He didn’t have an answer because he didn’t think it was important. Silence hung heavy in the still atmosphere. Then there was a shuffle of chairs and he found him close. “Did you think you were better because you were in the system? No wonder you couldn’t catch him.”

He was taunting.


The 24-hour stake out with 15 minutes of sprinting after a false lead was unproductive, leaving Casey’s nerves on the edge. His partner followed closely behind him, humming a jazzy tune that was on the radio and Casey thought that he was doing that purposely to rile him even more. He threw him a dirty look and Taiga only smiled, pausing for a while then resumed his humming.

It didn’t take much for Casey to open the door to his place, the required suit jacket and tie leaving his upper body as soon as his feet hit the living room. He didn’t know why he agreed to let his partner out of the Division compound since he was still technically a criminal but they had made plans on going over the evidence detached from their comfort zone. A new perspective, he said.

“You keep asking,” Casey asked after his third bottle of beer. The images taken from the crime scene splayed between the two of them. “But I think you know what my deviance is.”

“The difference between you and I is the knowing.” Taiga replied plainly and Casey nodded, sliding off his seat to walk towards him. “I can show you what I know.”

Casey believed he was not drunk, that he was fully aware of what had conspired and what would conspire. “Your greatest sin is vanity, Agent. All those times that you had looked upon us like pariah…” It was Taiga who lowered them down to the couch, leaning back and pulling his partner down with him. There was no kissing but a loud groan left Casey’s mouth when their bodies made contact, Taiga laughing a little at how hard he was to quickly match him.

Maybe Casey did like power a little. He wouldn’t have been in this Division if not for the opportunity to taste a little of it every time. Taiga did not need to guide him. The rookie easily found the spot and he used as much force as he did when he killed those women before. His job made it easy, the shifts were just as accommodating, skirting through the evidence and getting rid of the DNA he had left in his frenzy. He was unraveling; right in his own home as he deviated away from his own aberration. An aberration of his own aberration. Casey laughed a little and he thought he smelled blood.

Dragging his lips down Taiga’s jaw, he could feel him gagging softly. “Yes, it was like this, wasn’t it? Only different.”

Casey nodded, he was free. He pressed down harder, knowing that if he could still talk then he wasn’t doing it hard enough. He had never done this with much clarity, with such freedom. Taiga let out a soft whimper as he rolled his hips, rubbing against Casey’s that rocked right back, the friction increased by the material between them. He did not waste time, keeping his hand on Taiga’s throat while the other tore at his zipper, taking his length into his hand. He heard him moan and Casey tightened his hand, cutting off his air with a flick of his wrist and growing even more aroused as taiga clutched onto him. Nails digging into his arm, his flesh broke into crescent marks as the body beneath him snapped uncontrollably and Casey knew exactly when he came, his erection twitching against his hand as it pulsed.

Casey let his hands fall from his neck; he bruised like a Tokyo sunset, he noted. An error on his part was to let his guard down as Taiga climbed on his lap, using his fingernails to scrape up against his arms, hard and fast to catch him off guard. There was a flash of silver from the corner of his eye and he knew what was to come. This was his aberration, he thought as he felt the sharp edge of the scalpel against his collarbones, his shirt coming off quickly soon after.

“I’m sure you are well acquainted with heart beat. If you hold a humming bird in your hand you could almost replicate it.” Casey did answer, and Taiga leaned on his ear to whisper and Casey could feel that voice on his neck. “Do you like knives, Agent?”

Casey did not answer but he grunted noncommittally, his body arching as his hands drop to his waist to trace the flesh above his hips. He unfastened his pants, Taiga groping him with one hand as he raised his hips to align with his. Casey had never done it with a man but he was certain that it had hurt when he slid in, the swift shallow slice on his chest as the blood bloomed was any indication of the projection of his own pain. It was his darkening. The second cut came when Casey thrust his hips upwards, chasing his own release as his partner rode on top of him, his tongue on the deeper cut, exploring the skin underneath. It hurt like someone stuck needles on every nerve endings of his body and a soft wind started to blow on it. Casey could see it, the thin line of red that welled up in the knife’s path and the following trickle of blood was ensnared with Taiga’s tongue.

“You planned this, you knew it was me.” Casey swallowed air as he gripped the other’s hips, hard enough to bruise.

“I knew it was you the moment you intentionally made a mistake.” A finger touched slid across the ribbons of blood on his chest, feeling the flesh underneath and Casey bucked his hips upwards, his hands going around his throat, pressing again as both of them finally stopped talking and the only the sounds of their releases were heard.

Afterwards, Casey cleaned up in the bathroom and Taiga left after wrapping a scarf around his throat. He remembered telling him that he just have a little problem with women.


The killer was never caught.


Two months later, another body had been found. She was a radiologist, 25 years old and was last seen buying dinner for her young son; traces of bleach were found in her body. She was intact, except that she was skinned alive by a sharp instrument.
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