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The loss of one arm was worth the price of foolishness. For being shortsighted, ungrateful, naive—That’s what Ginoza believed, anyway.
All the same, it came with certain disadvantages he wasn’t wholly prepared for.
He was due for surgery soon, cybernetic circuits to be installed into the flesh of his missing arm for a prosthetic replacement. Until then, he was coming upon the stark realization of how much human beings relied on two hands for the most simplest tasks, especially balance.
There’s a clatter of noises that echo around the apartment bathroom as he scrambles to right himself from slipping. He finds purchase on the wet shower walls on his way down and he’s just thankful he didn’t hit his head— this time—Though the shampoo bottles and bath products had not come out unscathed.
“Are you okay, Mr. Ginoza?” Akane asked through the closed door. He can hear her concern over the running water.
“Y-Yes. I’m fine, Inspector.” He calls out, and he’s not sure what else to say, feeling alien in this vulnerable state when Akane speaks again.
“Do you need help?”
It surprises him at first that she asks, though the feeling quickly fades. With the death of his father and their closest colleagues, the changing power structures within the PSB, not to mention his demotion… neither of them had the luxury of being embarrassed or reserved right now.
He just hoped she wouldn’t be repulsed by his body.
“Yes,” Ginoza chokes out, “One moment.”
He gathered what little sense he had left to cover his extremities with a washcloth, and the bath stool that had gotten knocked into the corner was also recollected and placed upright. He sat with his back to the door, and after what felt like an eternity, called Akane in.
The door opened with a soft twist on the knob and Ginoza became aware of how small the bathroom was. Akane’s steps were soft and light as she came up behind him. She’s still in her inspector’s uniform and he almost felt bad about it. At the same time, he didn’t want to dismiss the help she’d offered.
“What do you need help with?”
“My back,” he tells her quietly, “And… my hair, if you would.”
“Of course,” she says and picks up the spilled-over bottles. She doesn’t ask or comment on his near fall, and he was grateful for that. He didn’t think his pride could take anymore blows as it is.
He offers a quiet “Thank you,” and bows his head as she starts sponging and lathering his back. They don’t say anything for a while, and it feels fine. Good, even. He closes his eyes as Akane gets to work and the sound of splashing water and fizzy soap fills his ears. He thinks he can fall asleep like this, but she runs her hands just over his shoulder blades enough that he shivers awake.
“Sorry,” Akane piped, “Are you cold?”
Ginoza shakes his head, thankful she couldn’t peer into his face. He makes up an excuse. “Just ticklish.”
She laughs and it’s a soft little sound. It makes him nervous for some reason. “You’re ticklish, Mr. Ginoza?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Which is it?”
“I’m—”
Her thumb touches the base of his spin and he jolts.
“Inspector!”
“Sorry, sorry! I was trying to get the shampoo…”
She continued exerting apologies behind his head as Ginoza huffed. He had half a mind to lay into her, but he was just grateful they’d moved on from the aforementioned topic. It’d been… a while since anyone touched him like this, so he was just a little more sensitive than usual. That was all.
“You know…” Akane started as she began working on his hair. “You sounded like your old self back there.”
Ginoza winced. He wished he could say he’d stopped that old habit for good. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant! It’s just, things have been hard lately so… I guess it’s nice to see you still have that side in you.”
“You don’t have to be kind to me.”
“I don’t think I’m trying to be,” Akane shrugged, and Ginoza smirked at that. “So much has changed lately. I think I just meant to say, I’m glad that you haven’t changed too much, is all.”
His hair was nicely lathered by now, soft and carded through with shampoo. The pads of Akane’s fingers massaging his scalp felt especially nice, and a low, pleased hum threatened to make itself heard in the echoey bathroom. Ginoza cleared his throat instead and offered an awkward, “I see.”
If he had to admit it, he was glad she hadn’t changed either.
The sound of water splashing over tile fills the quiet as Akane works out the soap suds in his hair. He leans his head back just enough for her to rinse it all out. Listens to the water running down the drain, and the small, minute noises in the way she moves. It all felt so... nice. Her breaths warm his forehead and he feels that comfortable sleep overtaking him again, and his thoughts are filled with the young inspector whose hands were running up and down his back, in and out of his hair…
There’s a burning heat rumbling in the pit of his stomach that he almost doesn’t quite catch because Akane’s hands suddenly leave his body and he’s rocked by the sudden chill it leaves behind.
“Mr. Ginoza?” Akane’s voice came from above him, small and perfect. “I’m finished.”
“Okay,” he replies, a little disappointed.
There’s shuffling as Akane’s wet feet pad across the bathroom tiles. It leaves behind an absence that Ginoza refused to put into words.
An itch on his back was a welcome diversion. He reached back to scratch at it. It was closer to the side of his missing arm though, and it felt awkward trying to reach for something he didn’t have to think twice about before.
Before the frustration sets in, a set of small fingernails satisfies the itch for him.
“Let me get that for you,” Akane says, and Ginoza swears the gesture could make him cry.
“You’d best leave,” he says, half-chuckling, half-worried. “I’m not… decent right now.”
“Mr. Gionza, you’ve been naked this whole time.” He could practically hear the way her huge eyes were squinting in scrutinization. But he shook his head, trying to figure out how to say it when he remembered: They didn’t have the luxury to be embarrassed or reserved right now.
“I’m… not trying to frighten you, Tsunemori. But when I say I’m not decent, I mean I’m… hard. Down there.”
It’s so quiet he could hear the water dripping from his hair.
Then Akane bursts into laughter.
She clutches her stomach like she’d heard the funniest joke. Ginoza for his part, shoved his hands over his dick. “I’m serious, Tsunemori!"
Akane wiped the tears from her eyes. “What—What in the world! Of all the things I expected you to say…!”
“If you want to report this to HQ, I won’t deny anything.” Ginoza tried to remain passive in front of the animated giggling girl, snorting and leaning against the door like he’d made it all up at his own expense. He was at least relieved she didn’t take offense to what was happening. There’d been worse situations he's found himself in. But… “If you leave, I’ll. Take care of it myself, so.”
“What do you mean take care of it yourself?” Akane couldn’t stop laughing and Ginoza’s cheeks burned red.
“You know what I mean.”
He hunched his shoulders like he was trying to disappear into himself. Only Akane wasn’t having it, and he wasn’t sure what was worse—That he had a springy hard-on between the two of them or the way his former junior kept trying to pull him around to look at her.
He did, at some point, only he’d shut his eyes tight. Not because he was scared to look, but because he was scared of what he’d reveal.
Her hands fully cup his face and he feels her thumbs swipe his cheek.
“I can stay.”
It was his turn to admonish her. He keeps his eyes closed as he grunts back, “What do you mean?”
There’s another soft giggle and he swallows. He never realized how affecting her laughter could be.
“You know what I mean.”
The last of his defenses soften. He knows it’s not pity. Maybe that’s why it was harder to believe, but her warmth on his skin was real . Present. Sparking a hope he never thought he’d feel again: That she’d stay, like she said.
“I’m… not good at this, I’ll have you know.” Ginoza manages through strained breaths. His blood is pumping all over his body but it all flows to one point. He must look pretty pathetic right now, but Akane still doesn’t leave. He always had a way of underestimating her. She uncups his face and rubs his earlobe—Like an owner petting her dog’s ear. Ginoza liked it very much.
“I’m not either, so… let’s figure it out?”
It comes out in one, shaky, emotional breath when he tells her, “Okay.”
Her small hand wraps around him and he sucks in a mouthful of air. Wraps his arms around her waist and submits himself to all the wonder that was Akane Tsunemori as the bathroom filled with his low moans of approval.
She touches him more tentatively than anything, and it’s a sure sign that she is new at this too. It endears him to her, this girl that had once driven him over the edge, and now she was doing it in a way that was as exciting as it was terrifying. She grips the back of his neck and he muffles his cries into the fabric of her shirt.
Ginoza comes hard and fast on her hands, on himself. Almost too soon.
He didn't have time to be mortified or stammer out excuses because Akane was already kicking off her skirt.
A faint thought on the edge of his mind worried about her clothes getting wet. But she’s standing there, naked and pristine, and he’s halfway to getting hard again as he pulls her center to his lips.
She tasted as exquisitely as she looked, sounded as wonderful as he imagined. Loved the way even the smallest cries were amplified in the small bathroom and how her hands carded into her hair, like before, only with a much more intense pressure. Her knees buckle and Ginoza has a mind to think he must be doing something right. He gently brings her down, nearly chokes when she grabs his cock again and aligns it with herself. A silent look passes between them as she settles slowly in his lap.
Ginoza didn’t believe in the fantasy of two people being made for each other. Especially in these chaotic times when intention and choice mattered more than fleeting romantic thoughts. The latter would get you killed—He’d known that firsthand.
What he didn’t know was how he’d be willing to risk death just to feel this again.
Akane’s moans meld with his own as they writhed and squirmed against each other. Their movements were not smooth and plainly unpracticed, but they groaned into each other’s mouths like it was something divine. Maybe she needed this as much as he did too.
Ginoza’s one arm balanced them both on the creaking bathroom stool, threatening to slip. Noticing, and without breaking a beat, Akane pulled him upright, back against her chest, and all was good again.
“You’re beautiful,” she tells him, kissing him, “You’re beautiful, Mr. Ginoza.”
He thought she was too, but the words are lost on his tongue exploring her mouth.
He’s determined to make her come. Repay her for all the kindness she’s shown him, the patience, the respect—He holds her at an angle, breathless and dizzy, and thrusts. It takes more effort to balance her than he thought, his strength waning, but her cries spur him on, and when she comes she shudders so delightfully he follows soon after with a strained gasp, pulling out and spilling on her thighs.
They catch their breaths, exhausted, hot, and wet.
Akane wraps her hands around Ginoza’s neck to bring him close, to kiss the side of his face, and when he bows his head for her, he likens the gesture to being collared. He nuzzles into her hair, sheepish.
“I… may need your help washing again."
Akane chortled. “I need to wash up anyway.”
Ginoza lent her his clothes, and she opted for one of his old boxers and shirts. She helped him into his, carefully buttoning his dress shirt as he counted the lashes on her eyes. He wonders if maybe he doesn’t need a prosthetic after all, but knowing Akane, she’d be throwing herself headfirst into danger as soon as they stepped back out into the real world. He’d have to steel his heart for what was to come.
For now, he’d allow himself to be spoiled a bit, and let his new inspector spoon-feed him some ice cream to cool down from the bath.