There's Something About Birdstyle

DISCLAIMER: This story is a non-commercial work of fiction based on the anime GATCHAMAN. Original copyright of GATCHAMAN belongs to Tatsunoko Productions and Sandy Frank Entertainment. Absolutely no monetary gain has been made with this work.

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AUTHOR'S NOTES: I wrote this story as a gift of sorts for Sayuri, Phantom G, Lyon and Janet Coleman Sides. Ever since last year, I haven't written fiction as a result of poor health, overwork, and loss of confidence in my writing skills, thanks to certain people in one writer's community. But then, I regained my passion for GATCHAMAN (currently airing in the Philippines dubbed in Tagalog) – which I enjoyed during my Elementary School years. Finding these talented Gatchamaniacs' works on the Net helped inspire me to try writing fanfics again. This story is the result.

I decided to up the level of this tale a bit by having Joe Asakura, and Ken as well, speak Italian (and a little Japanese too). For the Italian dialogue, I thank artist extraordinaire Laura Zel Carboni for her wonderful assistance. As Zel informed me, except for differences in the usage of slang, there is no difference between the major Italian language and the Sicilian dialect.

To Sayuri, Phantom G, Lyon and Janet: Thank you very much for the inspiration! I never thought I could be able to write again, so for this, you have my eternal gratitude. I hope you like this little story I wrote for you.

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THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT BIRDSTYLE
© April 9, 2008 By Rory V. Pascual


PART ONE

For Joe Asakura, birdstyle was an insidious garment of torture designed to test the limits of hot-blooded males like him, whose daily routine consisted of using the head between his shoulders for battling evil invaders hell-bent on world domination and the other 'head' between his legs for the conquest of unwary females who fall for his brooding good looks and rugged charms. When he was not doing either of these things, he would be found burning rubber on the racetrack or doing strenuous drills in the ISO Training Room. At this moment, he was in the Training Room's observation deck, glaring down at his intrepid leader as he fought a variety of mecha and dodged lasers, missiles and other deadly projectiles that were being thrown his way.

Indeed, Ken Washio – he who was known as Owashi No Ken or Eagle Ken, the White Shadow or simply Gatchaman – was a master fighter, a killing machine who, like his avian namesake, was always on the alert for attacks from any and all comers, whether it be common thugs or the upper echelon officers of Galactor.

Unfortunately, however, outside of work with the Kagaku Ninjatai, Ken was dense about everything else…in particular, the effect he had on people he came in contact with especially when he was dressed as his dashing alter ego. The Eagle was blissfully unaware that he was the cause of the frustration that was slowly and steadily building up in his second-in-command.

And that was because, to Joe, Ken was forbidden fruit, a vestal virgin he dared not sully. If Ken does not kill Joe himself for harboring an unnatural lust for him, the Kagaku Ninjatai's direct superior Nambu-Hakase – who was also Ken's foster father – was sure to have him summarily executed.

Given the growing strength of his feelings, it was very difficult for Joe to maintain his stoic façade as the Condor while watching his commander. Ken moved with the grace and fluidity of a dancer; every move was accentuated by the rise and fall of his flowing cape, which also functioned as wings. Worse, those traitorous wings had the tendency to flutter up during Joe's unguarded moments, exposing to his awe-struck steel gray eyes the lithe body underneath. It did not help any that the tight white, red and blue body suit clung to Ken's form like a second skin – every line, every contour, every curve of muscle and other sundry body parts clearly defined.

When Ken did a back flip over a rumbling drone, Joe found himself swallowing hard. Did he just see small, taut nipples straining against the fabric of the birdstyle as Ken's torso formed a perfect arch? When the Eagle settled down on his haunches as he landed on the floor, Joe had a mouth-watering glimpse of long lean legs clad in thigh-high blue boots that soared up to a lusciously tight ass.

Joe never ceased to be amazed by the ease by which Ken moved in his birdstyle. He had to admit that, although designed for freedom of movement and brief flight, he found their uniform constricting, confining…and downright sexually stimulating.

The Condor's memories brought him back to the time when Galactor was but a vague, shadowy menace whose existence was only whispered about in the spy circles of the ISO. It was a threat, however, that needed to be addressed when the time came. Four young men – he and Ken included – and a woman had been chosen to safeguard the welfare of Earth and all mankind. Hence, the Kagaku Ninjatai was born. But of course, as heroes, they needed the perfect costume.

It was Nambu-Hakase who designed the birdstyle. The fabric of the costume was woven with a metallo-organic fiber, which Nambu and the ISO scientists developed. The fiber has the property to rearrange its molecules upon application of a high frequency wave, transforming any clothing and footwear made with it into a pre-programmed bird uniform with the strength of battle armor.

Unlike the birdstyles they wore now, the prototypes did not transmute instantaneously. Back then, the transmutation process was slow, which one scientist – Joe overheard remark – likened to the molting of snakeskin.

To the Condor, however, wearing the birdstyle prototype was like performing a maddening striptease or, to be more precise, an intense foreplay. Up to now, he could still vividly remember the sensations as his civilian clothes melted onto his skin and spread all across his body like warm butter…or like the sweaty caress of hot palms. The garment would adhere to lines and crevices he never realized existed, fitting snugly to his magnificent physique.

No, Joe hastily amended. It hadn't been just a 'snug fit' in his nether regions. Before he learned to master the fine art of controlling his rampaging libido, the damned birdstyle prototype made any activity in his groin easily detectable. The worst part was his treacherous manhood never stirred at the sight of the white undies peeking out from under Jun's mini-skirt. Like a dowsing rod, it always zeroed in on the taut buttocks of Ken Washio.

Nambu himself had observed the 'phenomenon' – it could not be termed anything else but that – during one early training exercise. The Condor could only thank his lucky stars that it had been a group drill that day and that he had been moving too swiftly before his betraying erection could point accurately to its desired target. Even then, Nambu – with his meticulous eye – had not failed to notice his straining hard-on.

Taking him aside, Nambu had told him with professional frankness, "Joe, sex should be the LAST thing on your mind during battle." Pinching his chin, he quickly added, "On second thought, knowing the kind of man you are, I think your uniform should be in a darker color…to camouflage the…errr…ahem!" Nambu rumbled out that last word as he cocked an eyebrow up at his subordinate's dwindling erection.

Joe cursed under his breath. Who the hell does Nambu think he is – judging him a pervert of the highest order? He should have demanded from the scientist right then and there if he knew the effects the prototype had on his prim and proper young ward. Wasn't it documented in all the magazine articles he had read that it's usually the demure types who are the horniest ones of all? Joe refused to believe that he couldn't have been the only one getting aroused by the transmutating birdstyle. Then again, now after so many years have passed, the answer to his question was standing right below him – Ken's pristine white birdstyle that hid nothing on his delectable body, a striking contrast to his own blood red uniform. It was a dazzling testament to the Eagle's formidable self-control and unmatched purity. It made Joe feel downright dirty in comparison.

And yet, unwitting fashion maven that he was, Nambu-Hakase seemed oblivious to the fact that, with his great invention, he had transformed Ken into a love magnet. While Joe was the resident playboy of the team, just as many women swooned at Ken's feet at a blink from those baby blue eyes. Wasn't Jun tripping over him as well?

Now, even the Condor – the Casanova of the Kagaku Ninjatai – had fallen under the Eagle's spell. Another man, for god's sake! And he squarely pinned the blame on one thing.

"Damned birdstyle!" Joe growled inwardly. "Turning an Eagle Scout into a sexpot!"

Call it wrong timing, but Jinpei – the youngest and most annoying member of the team – chose that moment to remark about the very thing that was sticking at Joe's craw.

"Ken-aniki sure looks fantastic in birdstyle!" Jinpei threw a mischievous grin at a blushing Jun, who was staring enrapt at their dashing leader. "I mean, look at Jun! She can't keep her eyes off him!"

"Shut up, pipsqueak!" the Swan chided her adopted sibling, her face turning a deeper shade of red. "Ken might hear you!"

Joe rolled his eyes heavenwards. // Couldn't you be more obvious? //

Ryu crossed his arms behind his head. "You gotta give credit to Nambu-Hakase. Who'd ever thought the guy had an eye for style? Could you just imagine how we'd look if we dressed like comic book heroes?"

"Yeah!" Jinpei shuddered at the thought. "We'd look just as stupid as Superman…" There was a suppressed chuckle. "…Wearing briefs outside of his tights."

Joe's face soured instantly. // Heaven forbid! Not that awful joke! //

An amused snort from Ryu. "Not as dumb as Batman. Not only does he wear his briefs on top of his tights, he even has to wear a belt to keep them both up."

Jun burst into giggles, causing Joe's opinion of her to drop several notches lower.

"True, true! But Robin is the dumbest of them all…" Jinpei chortled. "…Because he aped Batman's style!"

At that last, Jun, Ryu and Jinpei cheered in unison "THANK GOD FOR BIRDSTYLES!" and howled with laughter.

That hearty tribute to the straitjacket they called a uniform caused Joe to lose his tenuous grip over his temper. With arms akimbo, he stormed over to his laughing comrades.

"What the hell are you guys cheering for anyway? Do you honestly think these birdstyles are THAT great?" The Condor rounded on a startled Ryu, who stepped back from his angry figure. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You're fat! The layers of your blubber jiggle visibly through your uniform! It's gross…like Moby Dick in spandex!"

"HEY…!" The Owl began to retort in offense, but Joe turned his wrathful attention to Jinpei.

"You…" He poked a hard finger at the scrawny boy's sternum. "…Need to grow up! Your codename is the Swallow? In that costume, you look like a Tweety Bird!"

Jinpei's lower lip quivered at that tongue-lashing. With a cry, he ran to Jun and hid behind her. The Swan was furious.

"Damn it, Joe! What's your problem, huh?" Jun demanded, draping her wings protectively over her adopted brother. "You may be second-in-command, but that doesn't give you the right to..."

Suddenly, Joe loomed over Jun like a hideous Galactor mecha. "And as for you, what in damnation are you trying to pull – wearing only panties under that poor excuse of a skirt? Did you think you're going to attract guys looking like a slut? Only Berg Katse's goons are that frustrated enough to peek! Besides, in my opinion, there is nothing more disgusting than the sight of thick patches of dark curls poking out of the sides of a white panty's crotch! If you don't want to offend a man's aesthetic sensibilities, wear bloomers!"

"Joooe…" His name came out as an ominous snarl from Jun's lips, as she slowly raised a clenched fist. "YOU SICKO!"

Suddenly, Joe found himself flying backwards and crashing through the glass of the observation deck. Then, he was falling, falling. The pain as his body impacted with the mini-tank – which was about to shoot Ken from behind – was greater than the pain of a hard fist hitting his jaw.

For what seemed like forever, Joe lay motionless on top of the broken remains of the training mecha…until a familiar voice achingly dragged him back to his senses.

"Joe? Joe, are you all right? That's one fucked up landing. I don't know exactly what happened, but thanks for saving me! I never saw that tank coming up behind me."

Dazed, confused and bewildered, the Condor cracked his eyes open to behold a blurry vision of a beautiful brown-haired angel with pretty blue eyes and shining white robes gazing down at him in concern. Joe quickly squeezed his eyelids shut, not because of the wave of dizziness that washed over him. He was overwhelmed by the dazzling figure hovering above him.

"No…too bright…" he moaned, raising a feeble arm to drive away the lovely vision. "…Am melting…"

"Joe, you're not an ice cube." There was a hint of amusement in the angel's voice, although he could not mask his worry totally. "Your brain just got scrambled a bit by that nasty fall you took, that's all. As far as I can tell, you aren't discombobulating, and no broken bones either, but I think you've dislocated your jaw. You've got a big black bruise here." The Condor winced as a finger poked the left side of his jaw.

From somewhere above, Jun yelled, "Isn't that fool dead yet?"

A shocked gasp. "You did this?"

"He deserved it! Sick pervert!"

"Am not…" Joe had to say something in his defense, but he couldn't seem to get his brain and mouth to work in proper coordination. "Not…fault…damn…form…fuck…style…"

"Now, now! No need to curse. I'm sure Jun didn't mean it."

"Did too! I've never been so humiliated in my life!"

The exchange of words was causing Joe's whole head to pound like a jackhammer. Opening his eyes once more, only then did he realize that the sapphire-eyed beauty holding him was not an angel at all – it was Ken sans his helmet. But – Horror of horrors! – He was still wearing that accursed birdstyle.

Gripping the Eagle by the front of his cape, Joe shook Ken hard, shrieking madly, "You have to get out of this uniform, Ken! It's the Devil's infernal garments which he uses to corrupt the pure in body and soul!"

But Ken blinked at him in confusion. "Calm down, Joe! You're hallucinating! These are birdstyles, remember? Our uniforms! Look, you're wearing one too!"

"No!" Joe cried stubbornly, as he reached down to the waistband of Ken's tights. "I won't let these devilish clothes brainwash me into tainting a virgin like you."

His cheeks burning from having his state of innocence exposed so loudly, Ken tried to wriggle free from the Condor's hands that were determined to strip him.

"Uh, Joe? I don't think you need brainwashing. If you don't get a grip on your addled head, you're bound to do something you might regret." A hesitant pause followed by a shy admission. "I wouldn't, though."

Joe barely heard that last as his vision began to dim. Yet, his frustration at being unable to tear off Ken's evil birdstyle remained in his heart.

Consciousness slowly deserting him, the Condor whispered in the Eagle's ear, "Shouldn't wear this…" In a last ditch attempt to maintain awareness, his hand dropped even lower, his fingers finding purchase on a round curve of Ken's buttock.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Why don't you sit down, Ken?" Dr. Nina Trieste – a member of the ISO's team of physicians – pursed her lips at the chair beside the bed. "It might take awhile for me to get the results of the head scans. While I still think that Joe merely suffered a concussion, your description of his bizarre behavior troubled me. I have to be sure he didn't suffer any brain damage."

There was a rosy glow on Ken's cheeks as he shrugged his cape over his shoulders and took the offered seat with exaggerated care. As if wanting to take the weight off his behind, he leaned forward, laying his clasped, gloved hands, arms and elbows over the bed. Slumbering deeply as a result of his head injury, Joe – his head carefully bandaged up – was unaware of the presence of Ken and the doctor inside the infirmary.

Dr. Trieste was amused by the Eagle's sitting position. "And what's wrong with you, my boy? Hemorrhoids troubling you, or did someone finally claim your prudish posterior?"

"DOCTOR!" Ken grew even redder. It looked as if he had eaten a fistful of wasabi.

"Just kidding! Just kidding!" the doctor wagged her hands. "You seem a bit uptight about something, so I thought I'd loosen you up a bit."

There was a luscious pout on Ken's full lips. "It wasn't funny, Doctor!"

Dr. Trieste smiled and approached the sulking figure. Ruffling Ken's wayward mane, she said truthfully, "You really are a sweet kid, Eagle Ken. Up to now, I can't believe you remain unattached. I know some of your teammates have gone out on a date or two. You really should find someone to love. You won't be fighting Galactor forever, you know."

The corners of Ken's mouth lifted in the semblance of a wistful smile. "Actually, I already have…" Hastily, he added before the doctor could speak, "…And it's not Jun. But…I don't think it's going to work out."

The good doctor did not say any more. Judging from the painful longing in Ken's blue eyes, it was all too obvious to her that the object of his unrequited affections was the injured man on the bed.

Patting his shoulder comfortingly, Dr. Trieste began, "Well, I really don't want to impose on you, seeing that you just came from a training exercise, and you're still even dressed in your birdstyle. Could you please watch over Joe for me while I get his test results? I promise I'll be back in a jiff."

Ken made a nonchalant shrug. "Sure. This is part of my job after all as leader of the Kagaku Ninjatai – to look after the welfare of my teammates."

"Thanks, Ken."

It was only when the door clicked shut behind him that Ken was able to exhale in relief. Sometimes, Dr. Trieste was too motherly, making him feel uncomfortable and happy at the same time.

Turning to the slumbering figure on the bed, he said with a sad little smile, "I guess it's just you and me." Abiding an irresistible urge, Ken reached up and tucked a stray wisp of mocha brown hair under Joe's bandage. Running his fingers through the Condor's wavy locks at the top of his head, he confessed, "I'm confused with myself, Joe. When did my feelings for you change?"

Ever since they became teammates, Ken was content with the fiery friendship he had with the Condor. While they were comrades-at-arms and beer buddies at the best of times, during their worst moments, they could be found arguing and beating the crap out of each other. Indeed, they were a strange pair – always contradicting one another. Whenever Joe was in one of his mood swings, it was the Eagle who made him see reason. If it's Ken who was being reckless, Joe could be counted upon to get him out of harm's way.

They were so much alike and yet so incompatible, especially when it came to matters of the heart.

Ken was all too aware of the Condor's reputation as a ladies' man. Not a week went by without him seeing Joe going out of a bar or a dance joint in the city with a girl in his arms. On a few occasions, he had actually seen Joe with TWO women.

Wasn't just having one woman a handful already?

The Eagle, on the other hand, chose to immerse himself in work – both at the ISO and as an airmail carrier flying his little Cessna. He shunned any and all romantic entanglements, which were more likely to end in tragedy. The death of his father had shown him that he did not have the mettle to deal with painful emotions.

That all changed, however, after the deep-sea mission he and Joe had on board the Marine Satan. Seeing the Condor about to lose his sight and sanity to a blocked out memory from his tragic childhood, Ken forced him to gaze into the flames and recover that crucial bit that lay buried in the deepest recesses of his mind. And what they had found was a horrible truth indeed – that Joe was the son of an ex-officer of Galactor.

"What have you done, Ken?" Joe's voice had been thick with anguish and anger. "I was better off not knowing the truth about my past. I will hate you forever for restoring this terrible memory to me!"

At that outburst, Ken had felt a rending inside his chest. That pain had been incomparable to the heartache at his father's demise. Even as he had helped Joe back to the Marine Satan and barely escaped from the exploding enemy submarine, the pain had lingered as a heaviness that made breathing difficult. How he had managed to maintain a cool façade with Joe beside him seemed nothing short of a miracle.

For a time, none of them had said a word, until Joe had spotted the five missing ISO technicians they had been charged to find, floating in their mini-submersibles, trapped in the icy grip of ghost water. As though nothing had happened between them, Ken had acted in his usual professional manner, explaining to his teammate that he dared not attempt a rescue in those deceptively calm waters lest they get trapped themselves. It had been after he had reported the fates of the technicians to Nambu-Hakase that Joe had noticed that Ken had omitted one vital piece of information.

The Condor had looked at him as though he had lost his mind. "Ken, why didn't you tell Nambu-Hakase the truth?"

"What? That your father was a Galactor agent? But he left that evil organization to be with you and your mother, didn't he?" Ken had pointed out to him. "That's all in the past. Giuseppe Asakura may have been a member of Galactor, but it's not true for his son. You are – and always will be – a member of the Kagaku Ninjatai, and don't you forget that."

An embarrassed smile had formed on Joe's face then, and the Eagle could tell that he was having trouble finding the words to say sorry for his outburst earlier. But Ken had needed no apologies. To help his teammate and friend through his personal crisis – that had been enough for him.

Yet, when they had finally returned to the surface, Joe had taken the hand that Ken had offered to help him climb out of the submarine, when earlier he had rebuffed a similar gesture of assistance. The warm smile on the Condor's face spoke volumes as their hands clasped – a sign of a promise that there could be so much more between them.

However, with the passage of time, with every little gift of a rare smile from Joe whenever they were alone together, Ken was being overcome by fear and cowardice. What if he were reading Joe's actions wrong? Could he jeopardize the close friendship that they have now for the aching desires of his heart? What could a man of the world like the Condor find interesting and appealing in someone as inexperienced as he?

As if tempting fate, a low moan issued from the lips of the injured man lying on the bed. Despite his apprehensions, Ken brightened up, seeing Joe's eyelids twitch as he struggled for awareness.

Shrugging away his troubled thoughts, Ken leaned over to look closely at Joe's face. "Joe! How're you feeling?"

"Talk…loud…" Joe mumbled, his brows knitting together in a frown. "So dizzy…" He cracked his right eye open, only to snap it shut again with a groan. Despite his claim that he felt woozy, the Condor shook his head and laid his arm over his eyes, as if he were rejecting the presence of his teammate.

Ken found that gesture upsetting. Unable to hide his resentment, he said, "I just thought I'd make sure you were going to be all right. I didn't mean to disturb your rest. Since you're obviously on the road to recovery, I'd better get going so you could sleep and…"

Just as Ken was getting to his feet, a hand whipped out from under the bed sheet and closed around his wrist. There was a strong tug, and Ken found himself tumbling into bed facing the Condor.

"Joe, what are you…"

A callused fingertip pressed over his full lips. "Sssssh! Noisy…"

Ken felt the blood rush up to his cheeks when Joe gingerly turned on his side and drew the Eagle into his embrace. Feeling the length of Ken's cape behind him, Joe tossed it irritatingly aside and let it dangle over the edge of the bed. For what seemed like an eternity of heart-pounding tension, he lay stock-still and breathless as the Condor's hands slid up and down his back.

"No…grrrr…"

Shyly, Ken hugged Joe back to soothe away his agitation. Although Joe seemed to be relaxing bit by bit, his hands continued its careful exploration of the Eagle's back. A soft gasp escaped Ken's lips as long, hard fingers cupped his buttocks.

"Like…nothing…on…." Joe mumbled, still growling like an angry puppy.

Right then and there, Ken made the ultimate decision. No time was as good as now to confess his true feelings to the man in his arms.

Blushing furiously at the feel of those hands kneading his butt, Ken timidly began, "Joe, there's something that I've been meaning to tell you for a long time now."

"Hmmm…"

That hum bolstered Ken's confidence as he stammered, "Joe…I…I wanted to tell you…that…I…I want…" One deep breath and he let it all spill out. "I LOVE YOU, JOE!"

"HMMMM?"

"Please don't be angry! I'd rather be honest with you than keep my feelings a secret. It's true, Joe! I love you so much, and…" Deafening silence followed that slowly tore at the Eagle's heart. "But if you can't love me in this way, I…I'd understand. We…we could still be friends and…"

"Madre…"

Ken's head snapped up at that feeble cry, a frown creasing his brow. "Mother? But I'm not…"

Then, Joe mumbled pleadingly in Italian, "Madre, per favore…prega…me…non posso peccare…angelo…Ken…"

Unknown to the Condor, Ken had been secretly taking Italian lessons during his off days in order for him to be able to converse with his teammate in his native tongue. After all, Joe was very fluent in the Eagle's native language of Japanese. Of course, there was Ken's other motive – that with Italian being the language of romance, perhaps a few choice sentences could help spark the passion between them, even if at this 'just-friends' stage, such steamy sentiments were virtually non-existent.

So it was to an unwitting Joe's detriment that Ken was able to piece together what he was mumbling in his delirium.

"Madre, per favore prega per me! Non posso sopportare di peccare con un angelo come Ken!"

"Mama, please pray for me! I can't afford to sin with an angel like Ken!"

The Eagle slowly eased himself up, his face darkening in growing anger. Unaware of the change in the man in his embrace, Joe continued to grope and caress Ken's tightening posterior.

With gritted teeth, Ken snarled back in Italian, "Beh SCUSA di averti sedotto, compare…ma se non vuoi peccare con me, SMETTI DI STRIZZARMI IL CULO!"

~~~~~~~~~~

Nambu-Hakase was on his way to the infirmary to check up on his battered subordinate. He was rubbing his aching temples as he walked, in the hopes of relieving the terrible headache he had developed as a result of the exchange he had with Jun. The ISO administrator had chided the Swan about controlling her temper and not venting her fury on her teammate over such a trivial issue as underwear and pubic hair.

Jun, however, was too furious to accept the scolding. Pounding her fists on Nambu's desk, she rebutted, "But, Hakase, how would you feel if you were in my place? For Joe to say something like that, it means that he WAS peeking!"

"I'm sure Joe didn't mean anything bad about what he said," Nambu suddenly found himself on the defensive. "Let's face it. I did design your birdstyle based on your specifications. But, for modesty's sake, wouldn't it be prudent to take his suggestion and add shorts to your ensemble? Or maybe you could…you know…shave a bit…down there…"

The Swan let out an offended shriek then. "AAAH! I'm surrounded by perverts! I swear the only decent guy in this place is Ken!" She then stomped out of his office before he could say more, the electronic sliding door hissing close behind her.

Nambu could not stop himself from chuckling. // Ken? Decent? The only reason why you think he's decent is because the poor boy is still a virgin! //

The good doctor wondered how Jun would react if she learned who the man of her dreams was truly pining for.

"Poor Joe!" Nambu clucked his tongue, shaking his aching head. "Living on borrowed time!"

When he reached the infirmary at last, the doctor stopped for a moment in the hallway to fix his tie. As he laid his hand on the doorknob, he heard someone shout in Italian inside. Nambu's mind made a quick translation.

"Well, SORRY for seducing you, pal…but if you don't want to sin with me, THEN STOP SQUEEZING MY BUTT!"

At first, Nambu thought it was Joe who had spoken, but listening closely, he immediately recognized Ken's voice. Then, there was a heavy thud coming from within, which prompted the doctor to open the door. Just as he did so, Ken ran past him, his white and crimson cape fluttering behind him. Although his ward's head was bowed low, Nambu did not fail to see the tear tracks that streaked his cheeks. Training his gaze towards the Condor, he saw that Joe was lying sprawled on the bed, the bed sheet thrown in a heap on the floor. The bandage on his head had been knocked askew. There was a growing lump on his forehead that the doctor knew was not there before.

Nambu could not help the grin that lifted not only the corners of his mouth, but the tips of his mustache as well.

"Well, well…" he declared in mixed amusement and trepidation. "So Ken has finally decided to act on his feelings." The doctor approached the unconscious figure on the bed and gave him a solid rap on the head.

"NAMBU-HAKASE!" A just returned Dr. Trieste exclaimed from the doorway, horrified by what she had witnessed. "What do you think you're doing?"

Nambu, however, ignored her. Bending down, he whispered in Joe's ear, "Don't fuck things up, Joe my boy, or else I'll kill you!"

Straightening up, Nambu cheerfully told a shocked Dr. Trieste "Carry on, carry on!" as though nothing had happened. With hands thrust in the pockets of his coat, the good doctor marched out of the infirmary, whistling a merry tune.


TO BE CONTINUED…

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