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Chapter Text

Chishiya woke to the smell of cigarette smoke, gunpowder, and sex - which meant he'd fallen asleep in Niragi's bed again.

The room was dim, blackout curtains doing their job despite the tears in the fabric letting through thin streams of morning light. Dust motes drifted lazy through the golden bars, settling on scattered ammunition casings and empty beer bottles. Niragi's room looked like a munitions depot had fucked a bachelor pad and neither party had bothered with a condom. Organised chaos, the militant would call it. Disaster, by any objective measure. But Chishiya had stopped pretending he came here for the ambience weeks ago.

He lay still, cataloguing sensory input with the methodical precision of someone who'd learnt young that information was survival. The mattress beneath him was too soft, springs shot to hell from Niragi's aggressive sleeping habits - all thrashing limbs and unconscious violence even in rest. The sheets smelt like cheap cologne applied heavy-handed, sweat, the distinct metallic tang of gun oil, and underneath it all, Chishiya's own cleaner scent mixing in. Territorial marking via olfactory contamination. How primitive. How effective.

Behind him, Niragi's bulk radiated heat like a fucking furnace, one heavy arm slung possessive across Chishiya's waist, hand splayed wide over his stomach. Still asleep, breathing deep and even in a way he never managed awake. Chishiya could feel the rise and fall of that broad chest against his back, the occasional twitch of muscle as Niragi's body processed whatever violent dreams played behind his closed lids.

The titanium barbell of his Prince Albert piercing pressed firm against Chishiya's ass where Niragi's half-hard cock nestled between his cheeks - post-sex intimacy Niragi always sought, needing the connection, the reassurance of continued contact. Pathetic. Endearing. Exploitable.

Chishiya kept his breathing steady, feigning sleep while his mind clicked through the previous night's events with mechanical precision. They'd fucked twice - once against the door when Chishiya had barely gotten it closed behind him before Niragi was on him like a starving animal, all desperate hands and that goddamn tongue piercing catching on Chishiya's lips. Hard and fast, Niragi's usual method of greeting when Chishiya deigned to visit his territory instead of making the militant come crawling to the executive quarters. The second round had been slower, Chishiya orchestrating Niragi's desperation into something almost artistic: edging him three times before finally, finally allowing release.

The memory stirred heat low in Chishiya's belly. Niragi's broken pleading - please, fuck, please Boss I need it I need to come please let me - had been particularly gratifying. The way those dark eyes had gone glassy and wet, the proud violent man reduced to begging for permission to spill inside Chishiya's ass. Control achieved through the simplest biological manipulation: deny a creature what it craves most, then grant it only on your terms. Pavlovian conditioning with a side of prostate stimulation.

Chishiya's cock filled incrementally, responding to tactile memory and the warm weight of Niragi's arm anchoring him in place. Morning erections were physiological inevitability, testosterone peaks occurring during REM cycles, nothing more. The fact that it happened while pressed against Niragi's sleep-warm body was coincidence.

He told himself that lie with a straight face even inside his own skull.

The truth - that he'd grown to anticipate these mornings, that some small fucked-up part of him actually wanted to wake up inhaling secondhand smoke and surrounded by Niragi's aggressively masculine disaster of a living space - was something Chishiya filed away in the same mental drawer as all his other inconvenient realisations about their arrangement. The drawer labelled Don't Examine Too Closely Or You'll Have To Admit You're Capable Of Attachment, Which Is Terrifying.

Niragi shifted behind him, cock hardening further where it pressed insistent against Chishiya's ass, piercing dragging slightly as the angle changed. The arm around his waist tightened reflexively, pulling Chishiya back into the cage of Niragi's body. A sleeping anaconda constricting around captured prey, ensuring its meal couldn't escape even in unconsciousness.

"Mm." The sound was barely vocalised, Niragi's nose burying into Chishiya's hair, inhaling deep. Even asleep, the man was categorising, confirming: mine, here, safe, mine.

Chishiya allowed himself a small smirk Niragi couldn't see. Possessive even when unconscious. The militant's psychological need for ownership and validation ran so deep it manifested in his fucking REM state. Fascinating. Pathetic. Useful.

And if Chishiya's own hand drifted down to cover Niragi's where it splayed across his stomach, fingers slotting into the gaps between those larger knuckles - well. Body heat regulation. Practical. Nothing to do with the fact that Niragi's hands were the only ones Chishiya could tolerate touching him for extended periods. Medical fact: the human body craved tactile input. Satisfied curiosity: Niragi's hands provided that input without triggering Chishiya's usual skin-crawling discomfort at being touched.

Purely scientific.

Niragi's breathing changed, the deep even rhythm hitching slightly. Waking up. Chishiya felt the exact moment consciousness returned: the sudden tension in that muscular frame, the pause as Niragi's brain processed where, who, safe in rapid succession, followed by the full-body relaxation when he confirmed Chishiya hadn't left.

"Mmf. Boss." Niragi's voice was rough with sleep, the syllable more exhale than word. His cock fully hard now, definitely awake, pressing with more intention between Chishiya's cheeks. The hand on Chishiya's stomach flexed, fingertips pressing into the defined muscle there. Claiming. Checking. Still here, still mine, you stayed.

"Observant," Chishiya murmured, tone dry as dust. "Gold star for object permanence."

Niragi huffed against his hair, breath warm and cigarette-stale. "Fuck you."

"You did. Twice. Or have you already forgotten?" Chishiya kept his voice level, amused, while Niragi's hand started wandering south over his lower abdomen, fingertips tracing the sharp cut of his Adonis belt. Predictable. The man woke up hard and immediately needed to touch, to confirm ownership through tactile inventory of Chishiya's body.

"Remember fine." Niragi's hips rolled forward slightly, dragging his pierced cock along the cleft of Chishiya's ass in a slow deliberate grind. The metal barbell caught and pulled, adding texture to the slide of heated flesh against flesh. "Wanna make sure you remember too."

"How could I forget?" Chishiya's tone remained bored even as his own cock hardened further, trapped between his belly and the mattress, starting to leak precome against the sheets. "You fucked me with all the subtlety of a freight train. Very memorable. I'm sure my prostate is filing a formal complaint."

"Lying liar who lies." Niragi's teeth found the back of Chishiya's neck, biting down just hard enough to send sparks of pain-pleasure down his spine. The tongue piercing followed, cool metal soothing the sting, tracing the small indentations left behind. "Heard you. Felt you. You came so hard you nearly fucking blacked out."

Factually accurate, which was irritating. Chishiya had indeed experienced what the literature called a "prostate orgasm" intense enough to cause temporary visual whiteout and what felt like a minor cardiac event. Physiological response to sustained stimulation of the prostate gland combined with penile friction and psychological arousal factors. Nothing to do with Niragi specifically. Any partner with adequate anatomical knowledge could theoretically-

Niragi's hand wrapped around Chishiya's cock, cutting off that line of bullshit internal monologue with a firm stroke from root to tip, thumb swiping through the precome beading at his slit.

"Fuck." The word escaped before Chishiya could lock it down, hips jerking forward into that calloused grip. Niragi's hands were rough from rifle handling, scarred from fights, and knew exactly how Chishiya liked to be touched. Firm pressure, slight twist on the upstroke, attention to the sensitive spot just below the head. Muscle memory built through trial and error and Chishiya's careful conditioning - rewarding Niragi with praise when he got it right, withholding when he didn't. Behavioural modification via orgasm.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Smug satisfaction coloured Niragi's sleep-rough voice. His hips established a rhythm, grinding his cock against Chishiya's ass while his hand worked Chishiya's shaft with practiced efficiency. The piercing added delicious friction, titanium warming from body heat, dragging slick with precome through Chishiya's crease. "Want me to fuck you again? Put it back inside? You're still loose from last night, bet I could just slide right in."

Chishiya's breath caught, thighs clenching at the image. He was loose still, well-fucked, Niragi's come from the second round probably still coating his insides. The idea of being penetrated again with no prep, just Niragi's thick cock pushing into his used hole, stretching him open on that pierced shaft while that titanium barbell caught and dragged against his rim-

"Presumptuous," Chishiya managed, voice strained. His hips were moving now, fucking into Niragi's fist in short aborted thrusts he couldn't quite suppress. "What makes you think I want your cock this early? Maybe I prefer morning coffee."

"'Cause you're dripping all over my hand and grinding your ass on my dick like you're trying to jack me off with your cheeks." Niragi bit down on Chishiya's shoulder, harder this time, definitely leaving a mark. His hand tightened around Chishiya's cock, jerking him faster. "And 'cause you didn't leave last night. Could've gone back to your room soon as I fell asleep, Didn't."

That... was unfortunately accurate reasoning. Chishiya had indeed remained when he could have easily slipped out once Niragi passed into post-orgasmic unconsciousness. The logical explanation was that moving required effort and he'd been comfortable. The illogical explanation involved words like "wanted to stay" and "feels safer here" which Chishiya refused to dignify with acknowledgement.

"Convenience," Chishiya said instead, slightly breathless now as Niragi's talented hand worked his cock with exactly the right pressure and rhythm. "Your bed was closer than getting dressed and walking back to my room."

"Uh huh. Sure, Boss. Whatever helps you sleep at night." Niragi's tone was knowing, smug, and deeply irritating because he was right. The bastard had somehow learnt to read Chishiya's particular brand of bullshit, could see through the rationalisations to the uncomfortable truth beneath. "Gonna keep pretending you don't want this? Or you gonna let me make you come?"

The question was rhetorical - they both knew Chishiya was already too far gone, cock leaking steadily, hips working in rhythm with Niragi's strokes. But the militant needed the verbal confirmation, the explicit permission. Needed to hear Chishiya choose this, choose him, even in the smallest ways. Needed the reassurance that he wasn't forcing, wasn't taking, that Chishiya wanted him back.

Psychological damage from childhood sexual assault threats manifesting as pathological need for enthusiastic consent. Understandable. Exploitable. And in this moment, easy enough to give.

"Make me come," Chishiya said, low and commanding despite his breathless state. "And you can fuck me after."

Niragi groaned, hips jerking forward in an involuntary thrust that dragged his cock hard through Chishiya's crease, metal piercing catching briefly on his rim before sliding higher. "Fuck yeah. Okay. Yeah."

His hand moved faster, grip perfect, and Chishiya stopped fighting the pleasure building hot and liquid in his belly. Let himself press back into Niragi's chest, let those powerful hips grind against him, let clever fingers work his cock exactly how he needed. This was strategic - allowing Niragi those moments of perceived control actually reinforced Chishiya's dominance. By granting permission, he maintained the power. Basic psychology.

(The fact that it felt good, that some animal part of his brain purred with satisfaction at being held and touched and wanted so desperately - irrelevant. Side effects. Unimportant.)

"Gonna come on my hand?" Niragi's voice had gone rough and low, lips moving against Chishiya's neck between bites and licks. His tongue piercing traced the tendon there, slick warm metal following the line of Chishiya's pulse. "Gonna make a mess? Get it all over yourself, all over my fingers? Want you to. Wanna feel you lose it."

"Shut up and-fuck-"  Chishiya's spine arched as Niragi's thumb pressed hard against his frenulum, exactly the right spot, exactly the right pressure. His hand flew back to grip Niragi's hip, nails digging in through sleep-warm skin, needing the anchor as pleasure spiked sharp through his nervous system.

"That's it, yeah, fucking take it." Niragi's other hand came up to Chishiya's chest, finding his nipple and pinching, rolling the small bud between rough fingertips. "Come for me, Boss. Wanna see it. Come on, give it to me."

The combination of stimulation - cock, nipple, the hot slide of Niragi's pierced shaft grinding against his ass, the teeth on his neck, the voice rough and desperate in his ear - pushed Chishiya over the edge before he could marshal his usual control. His orgasm punched through him sudden and intense, pleasure whiting out thought for several seconds as his cock pulsed in Niragi's grip, spilling come across those scarred knuckles and onto the sheets beneath them.

"Fuck, yeah, that's so fucking hot." Niragi kept stroking him through it, milking every pulse, drawing it out until Chishiya jerked and hissed from oversensitivity. Only then did his hand gentle, releasing Chishiya's spent cock to trail come-slick fingers up his chest, spreading the evidence of orgasm across pale skin. Marking. Claiming. "So fucking perfect, Boss. Love watching you lose it."

Chishiya's breathing slowly evened out, brain coming back online in stages. Post-orgasmic neurochemistry: oxytocin, prolactin, dopamine flooding his system, creating temporary satiation and false sense of bonding. Biological imperative encouraging pair-bonding through sexual activity. Nothing meaningful, just evolution's clumsy attempt at species propagation.

He told himself that while Niragi's hand drew patterns in come on his chest and he made no move to stop it.

"Sap," Chishiya muttered, turning his head just enough to meet Niragi's eyes over his shoulder. Dark and heated, pupils blown wide, expression open in that way it only got in private. Vulnerable. Desperate. Wanting.

Niragi's responding grin was sharp and genuine, tongue piercing glinting as he flicked it against his teeth. "Yeah, whatever. Roll over. Wanna fuck you proper."

Chapter Text

Niragi watched Chishiya turn over in his arms with the same attention he usually reserved for tracking targets through a rifle scope. Every micro-movement catalogued, every tiny expression filed away in the part of his brain labelled Important Shit About Chishiya That Keeps Him Here.

The executive's face was flushed, pale skin showing pink across his cheekbones and down his neck where Niragi had bitten him - small marks blooming dark that would be hidden by that stupid white hoodie within the hour. His chest was still marked too, come streaked across that pale skin from Niragi's fingers, the evidence of orgasm drying in cooling trails that Niragi absolutely did not find ridiculously hot. Never marked anywhere visible. Chishiya had rules about that, about keeping their thing private, and Niragi followed them because the alternative was not having this at all.

Small price to pay for permission to touch what his fucked-up brain had decided was the only worthwhile thing in this shithole Borderlands.

Chishiya settled onto his back with casual grace, one hand reaching down to swipe absently at the mess on his chest - smearing it more than cleaning it, like he couldn't be bothered with the effort of actually wiping himself down. His legs fell open without prompting, arms stretching overhead in a deliberate display of flexibility that made Niragi's still-hard cock jerk against his own belly. Showing off. Teasing. Fucking taunting him with that lean body and knowing expression, come-streaked and freshly fucked and still wanting more.

"Well?" Chishiya's tone was bored but his dark eyes were sharp, watching Niragi watch him. "I believe I authorised penetration. Unless you've changed your mind?"

"Fuck no." Niragi was already moving, reaching past Chishiya to fumble in the nightstand drawer for the lube they'd gone through half a bottle of last night. His hands were steady despite the want making his jaw clench, despite the way his whole body thrummed with need to get inside, claim, mine, make him feel it, make him stay.

The lube was room temperature, thick and slick as Niragi squeezed too much onto his fingers - always used too much, paranoid about hurting Chishiya despite the executive's repeated assurances that he wasn't made of glass and knew how to use the word stop. Couldn't help it. The idea of causing pain during sex, of Chishiya tensing up and going somewhere else in his head because Niragi hadn't been careful enough-

"Today would be preferable to next week," Chishiya drawled, one elegant hand drifting down his own body to wrap around his softening cock. Giving himself something to do, keeping the blood flow going, preparing for round... whatever the fuck number they were on.

"Impatient." But Niragi was already sliding his slicked fingers down, finding Chishiya's hole - still pink and puffy from being thoroughly fucked hours earlier, still slightly gaped, still fucking perfect. He pressed one finger inside, felt Chishiya's body accept the intrusion with minimal resistance. Loose and slick, some of Niragi's come from last night leaking out around his finger. The visual punched him directly in his breeding kink, made his cock leak precome across his belly.

Chishiya's expression flickered - just for a second - into something almost soft before settling back into calculated boredom. "It's called efficiency. You're intimately familiar with the territory. A refresher course seems unnecessary."

"Yeah, well, I like the refresher course." Niragi added a second finger, scissoring slightly, watching Chishiya's face for any sign of discomfort. Nothing but that steady dark gaze and slightly parted lips. "Like feeling you. Like knowing I'm the only one who gets to."

"Possessive." But Chishiya's hips shifted down onto Niragi's fingers, taking them deeper, internal muscles clenching in a rhythm that had Niragi's mouth going dry.

"Fuck yeah I am." Third finger, and Chishiya's breath caught just slightly, eyes narrowing. Niragi crooked his fingers, searching, finding - there - the swollen bump of Chishiya's prostate. The executive's spine arched minutely, cock hardening again in his own grip. "Mine. My Boss. My-fuck-mine."

The possessive language was probably creepy as shit, would send any normal person running. But Chishiya just smirked, that infuriating knowing expression that meant he saw right through Niragi to every desperate insecure thought underneath.

"Your Boss," Chishiya agreed, tone mocking but something in his eyes that wasn't. "Who is currently waiting for you to stop fingering him and start fucking him. I've given you explicit verbal consent. Enthusiastic, even. Are you going to continue therapeutic self-reassurance, or are you going to put that pierced cock to use?"

Niragi withdrew his fingers - maybe faster than necessary - and grabbed his cock, squeezing the base hard to stave off the orgasm that wanted to punch through him just from Chishiya's fucking words. Enthusiastic consent. Wants it. Wants you.

He lined himself up, blunt head of his cock pressing against Chishiya's wet used hole, titanium piercing catching on the rim. Watched Chishiya's face as he started to push in - that slight furrow between elegant eyebrows, the way his teeth caught his lower lip, how his fingers tightened around his own cock.

The slide inside was smooth and tight despite the prep, Chishiya's body gripping him in rhythmic pulses that felt like coming home. Every fucking time felt like coming home. Like he'd been built for this specific purpose: filling up this particular asshole with his particular dick.

"Fuck," Niragi breathed, bottoming out, hips flush against Chishiya's ass, buried so deep the titanium barbell pressed against his inner walls. "Fuck, you feel-shit-so fucking good."

"Eloquent." But Chishiya's voice had gone breathy, his free hand coming up to grip Niragi's shoulder, nails pressing in. "Are you going to wax poetic about my internal musculature, or are you going to move?"

Niragi moved.

He pulled out halfway and thrust back in, establishing a rhythm that was harder than last night's lazy fuck, more desperate than the door-slam earlier. Something in between: intense but controlled, deep and claiming. His favourite way to fuck Chishiya - hard enough to feel, slow enough to last, possessive enough to satisfy the screaming need in his brain that demanded mark him, fill him, make him yours, keep him.

Chishiya's legs came up around Niragi's waist, heels digging into his ass, urging his deeper. His hand on Niragi's shoulder migrated to his back, nails dragging down his spine hard enough to leave red lines. The pain was grounding, perfect, exactly what Niragi needed to stay present instead of flying apart.

"Good," Chishiya murmured, and Niragi's brain lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. Praise. Good. "Just like that. Deeper."

"Yeah, fuck, yeah." Niragi adjusted the angle, hiking Chishiya's hips higher, and thrust in hard. The new position let him hit Chishiya's prostate dead-on, made the executive's breath punch out sharp, his cock leaking steadily onto his belly as he worked himself in time with Niragi's thrusts. "Like this? This good?"

"Adequate." But Chishiya's smirk was strained, his breathing uneven, his internal muscles clenching rhythmically around Niragi's cock in a way that felt fucking incredible. "You can-ah-go harder. I won't break."

Permission. Encouragement. Niragi's control slipped and he fucked in harder, faster, the slap of skin on skin obscene in the quiet room. His piercing dragged against Chishiya's rim on every thrust, adding texture and sensation that made them both groan. The titanium warmed from friction and body heat, the slight extra girth of the barbell stretching Chishiya's hole just that fraction more.

"Gonna come inside," Niragi panted, already feeling his orgasm building at the base of his spine, balls drawing tight. "Gonna fill you up. Want it. Fuck, want to breed you so bad."

"Biologically-fuck-impossible." But Chishiya's hand moved faster on his own cock, his hips rolling up to meet Niragi's thrusts. "But feel free to-ah, there-try."

The permission to indulge his breeding kink, even mockingly, was enough to send Niragi careening toward the edge. He shifted his weight to one arm, other hand gripping Chishiya's hip hard enough to bruise, and fucked into him with everything he had. Deep, hard, desperate, trying to get so deep inside that Chishiya could never get him out.

"Mine," Niragi growled, bending to bite at Chishiya's collarbone, teeth scraping skin. "Mine, fuck, all mine, only mine."

"Yours." Chishiya's agreement was quiet, nearly lost under the sound of their bodies meeting, but Niragi heard it. Catalogued it. Treasured it like the rare fucking gift it was. "Only yours. Now make me come again before I-fuck-die of old age."

Niragi reached between them, batting Chishiya's hand away to wrap his own larger one around that pretty cock. Stroked him exactly how he liked - firm, fast, slight twist, attention to the head - while continuing to pound into his ass with single-minded focus.

Chishiya came first, spine arching, head tilting back to expose his throat, mouth falling open on a silent cry as his cock pulsed in Niragi's grip. His ass clenched down hard, vice-tight around Niragi's shaft, and that was it. Niragi thrust in one more time, as deep as he could get, and came with a guttural groan - filling Chishiya's clenching hole with his release, the Prince Albert ensuring it went deep, marking him from the inside out.

Mine. Mine. Only fucking mine.

The orgasm seemed to last forever, pleasure wringing him out until his arms shook and he collapsed forward onto Chishiya's chest, face buried in that elegant neck, breathing in the scent of sex and sweat and that clean soap smell that was purely Chishiya.

Clever fingers found his hair, threading through and scratching lightly at his scalp. Soothing. The kind of gentle touch Niragi never got anywhere else, from anyone else. The kind that made his chest feel too tight and his eyes burn.

"Sap," Chishiya murmured, echoing his earlier accusation.

"Fuck you."

"You just did." That dry tone, but the fingers in his hair continued their gentle movement. "Three times in eight hours. I'm keeping track. That's six times this week. We're averaging-"

"Shut the fuck up with your math." But Niragi was grinning against Chishiya's neck, unable to help it. This. This weird-ass afterglow banter where Chishiya calculated their sexual frequency like he was filing a lab report and Niragi pretended to be annoyed instead of fucking charmed.

They lay there for several minutes, Niragi's softening cock slipping out of Chishiya's body, bringing a trickle of come with it that Niragi absolutely did not stare at like it was the best thing he'd ever seen. Definitely didn't think about how Chishiya was literally leaking him right now, marked inside and out.

Fucking breeding kink. Gonna be the death of him.

"We should shower," Chishiya said eventually, though he made no move to push Niragi off. "You have patrol in an hour."

"Don't wanna."

"Compelling argument."

"Five more minutes."

"That's what you said yesterday when I suggested you set an alarm."

"Didn't hear you complaining when my cock was in your ass."

"Fair point." Chishiya's fingers continued their path through Niragi's hair, the touch grounding and perfect and everything Niragi never knew he needed until this asshole executive had waltzed into his life and proceeded to dismantle every defence he'd built. "Fine. Five more minutes. Then you're showering. You smell like a distillery that fucked a gun range."

Niragi laughed, the sound rough but genuine, and tightened his arms around Chishiya's lean frame. "Sweet talker."

"I contain multitudes."

Yeah. Yeah, he fucking did. And somehow, impossibly, Niragi had gotten permission to know them. To touch them. To be here, in this moment, holding the one person in this death game who looked at him and saw everything - the monster, the victim, the brilliant programmer he'd buried, the violent killer he'd become - and stayed anyway.

Five more minutes of this.

He'd take it.

Chapter Text

The Beach pool area at noon was a study in controlled chaos masquerading as paradise, and Chishiya observed it all from his preferred vantage point on the third-floor balcony with the same clinical detachment he'd once applied to cadaver dissection.

A glass of cold tea sat untouched at his elbow, condensation beading on the surface, while Chishiya's hands remained buried in his hoodie pockets. The white fabric was pristine despite this morning's activities - he'd showered in Niragi's cramped bathroom (emerging to find the militant meticulously cleaning his rifle, tongue piercing clicking against his teeth in that unconscious tell of concentration), changed into fresh clothes from the spare outfit he'd started keeping in Niragi's closet (unacknowledged, both of them pretending it meant nothing), and returned to his own room to complete his morning routine.

Now, positioned exactly where he wanted to be, Chishiya watched the Beach's ecosystem unfold below.

The pool glittered obscene blue under summer sun, surrounded by bodies in various states of undress and inebriation. Music thumped from somewhere - American pop garbage that Hatter insisted made the Beach "fun" - and the air smelled like chlorine, sunscreen, and desperation. People laughed too loud, drank too early, fucked in semi-public corners, all pretending they weren't living in a death game where their next card might be their last.

Denial as coping mechanism. Understandable. Ineffective long-term.

Chishiya's gaze tracked individuals and groups with the precision of a predator identifying herd dynamics. There - Aguni's militants clustered near the north corner, weapons visible, cultivating their dangerous aesthetic. Last Boss was showing off some knife trick while the others watched with varying degrees of interest. Useless peacocking.

Southeast corner - Ann at a table with her laptop, pretending to work on game pattern analysis while actually running what Chishiya had identified as Beach resource inventory. Smart woman. Probably the only executive besides himself who understood they were living in a house of cards built on Hatter's increasingly unstable charisma.

Near the bar - Kuina, her presence immediately identifiable by the ratio of bare skin to bikini coverage and the cigarette dangling from her lips. As Chishiya watched, she looked up, scanned the building's balconies, and locked eyes with him across the distance.

She grinned, waved, and made an exaggerated beckoning gesture.

Chishiya considered pretending he hadn't seen her. Calculated the social cost of ignoring his closest approximation of a friend versus the effort of relocating. Decided the path of least resistance was compliance - if he didn't go to her, she'd come to him, and he preferred his observation post private.

He unfolded from his lean against the railing with unhurried grace and made his way down.

The heat hit him the moment he stepped outside, sun baking the concrete and turning the pool area into a convection oven. Chishiya's skin prickled with immediate discomfort - too hot, too bright, too many people, too much noise - but he kept his expression neutrally bored as he crossed to where Kuina had claimed a shaded table.

"Morning, princess." Kuina's grin was sharp as she kicked out the chair across from her. "Or should I say afternoon? Heard you didn't sleep in your room again last night."

Chishiya settled into the offered seat, hands finding his pockets. "Heard from whom?"

"Little bird. Several little birds, actually. Beach gossip travels fast." She took a drag of her cigarette, blowing smoke away from his face in the one concession to his preferences she reliably made. "You're getting sloppy with the sneaking, honey. People are starting to notice the pattern."

"People should mind their own business."

"People should. They don't." Kuina leaned forward, elbows on the table, expression shifting from teasing to something more serious. "I'm not judging, you know. Whatever you've got going with Tall Dark and Psychotic is your thing. But you need to be careful. Militants are Aguni's territory, executives are Hatter's. Those two hate each other. If it gets out that you're fucking Niragi-"

"I'm not sleeping with Niragi." The lie came automatic, smooth utterly unconvincing to anyone with functioning pattern recognition.

Kuina's look said really? That's the defence you're going with? out loud without words.

Chishiya sighed. "It's complicated."

"Most things worth doing are." She stubbed out her cigarette, immediately fishing for another. "Look, I don't care who you're screwing, or how, or how often. Your dick, your business. But the politics here are a powder keg. Hatter's losing his grip, Aguni's positioning for takeover, and you're-what, exactly? Playing both sides? Using Niragi as a weapon?"

All accurate assessments. Chishiya had indeed been leveraging his connection to Niragi for information and strategic advantage, using the militant's obsession to gather intelligence on Aguni's faction while maintaining his own executive position. The sex was - initially - just an efficient method of control.

Initially.

"Something like that," Chishiya agreed, because it was easier than explaining that the arrangement had evolved beyond simple manipulation into something he couldn't quite categorise. Something that involved waking up in Niragi's bed more often than his own and allowing touches he'd tolerate from no one else.

Kuina studied him for a long moment, dark eyes sharp. "You like him."

"I find him useful."

"You like him." Her voice gentled slightly. "Chishiya, I've known you for what, six months now? I've never seen you give a single fuck about anyone. But him? You watch him. Track him across rooms when you think no one's looking. I've seen you smile-actually smile, not that creepy smirk thing-when he says shit that by all rights should just annoy you."

Chishiya's jaw tightened. This was why he avoided emotional connections. People started observing, started drawing conclusions, started seeing past the carefully constructed façade to the uncomfortable truths beneath.

"Your point?" His tone was arctic.

"My point is be careful. And maybe think about what you want here." Kuina lit her fresh cigarette, leaning back in her chair. "Because that man? He'd burn this whole place down for you. And I'm not entirely sure you'd stop him. Which is either really romantic or really fucking terrifying, depending on your perspective."

Both, Chishiya's mind supplied unhelpfully. Both romantic and terrifying, the way Niragi had looked at him this morning with naked devotion and possessive hunger, like Chishiya was the only thing in the Borderlands worth protecting.

The way Chishiya had - just for a moment - wanted to stay in that bed forever, surrounded by ammunition and cigarette smoke, Niragi's heart steady against his back.

"I'll be careful," he said instead of any of that.

Kuina looked sceptical but didn't push. "Good. Because here comes your favourite topic of conversation, and he looks pissed."

Chishiya followed her gaze to find Niragi stalking across the pool deck like a predator that had spotted prey, rifle slung over his shoulder, tactical vest straining across his chest, face set in its customary expression of controlled aggression. His hair was pulled into a messy bun, sweat already beading his temples in the heat, tattoo sleeve vivid against sun-browned skin.

Objectively speaking, the man was - Chishiya's brain supplied before he could stop it - attractive in a violent dangerous way that should repel but somehow didn't.

(Oxytocin. Dopamine. Neurochemical cascade compromising rational function. Predictable. Irritating.)

Niragi's dark eyes found Chishiya across the crowded space, and his expression shifted microscopically. Still aggressive to anyone else's observation, but Chishiya had learned to read the minute tells: the slight relaxation of shoulders, the way his jaw unclenched, how his hand dropped away from his rifle.

Seeing Chishiya equalled safety equalled relaxation.

Pavlovian conditioning working both directions, apparently.

"Boss." Niragi reached their table, looming over them both, presence aggressive enough that nearby Beach residents immediately gave them a wider berth. "Kuina."

"Niragi." Kuina's tone was carefully neutral - she'd never liked the militant, made no secret of her distrust, but she tolerated him for Chishiya's sake. "Patrol go well?"

"Found two guys trying to hoard food in their room. Taught 'em about sharing." The way Niragi said it, combined with the fresh blood splatter on his boots, suggested his lesson had been violent and emphatic. "Aguni wants a meeting. Executives and militants. Tonight, after dinner."

Chishiya's mind immediately began calculating. Joint meeting was unusual - Hatter preferred keeping the power structures separate, meeting with groups individually to maintain control. Aguni calling a combined session meant he was making a move, consolidating power, preparing for something.

"Interesting," Chishiya murmured. "Did he specify the topic?"

"Nah. Just said mandatory attendance." Niragi's eyes hadn't left Chishiya's face, tracking his expression with the intensity of someone trying to read tea leaves. Looking for - what? Approval? Acknowledgement? Some sign that Chishiya was pleased to see him?

Needy. Pathetic. Endearing.

"I'll be there." Chishiya paused, then added, "Good work on the patrol."

The way Niragi's entire demeanour brightened was barely visible to casual observation, but Chishiya saw it. The minute shift in posture, the ghost of a smile, the way his shoulders rolled back with pride. Praise received and treasured like a fucking love letter.

Kuina made a small sound that might have been a cough or might have been a laugh.

"Yeah, well." Niragi's hand came up to rub the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. "Anyway. Gotta get back. Just wanted to-uh. Tell you. About the meeting."

He could have sent a message with any number of people. Could have waited until later. Had specifically sought Chishiya out to deliver information that wasn't time-sensitive.

Looking for excuse for proximity. For acknowledgment. For proof that Chishiya hadn't already forgotten this morning, hadn't written him off, still wanted-

"Appreciated," Chishiya said, tone mild. Then, because he was apparently capable of small mercies when sufficiently motivated: "I'll see you later."

The promise was vague, could mean the meeting, could mean nothing. But Niragi heard it for what it was - I'll come to you tonight, after, we're not done - and his expression shifted into something satisfied and possessive.

"Yeah. Later, Boss." He nodded to Kuina. "Kuina."

Then he was stalking off again, crowds parting around him, rifle glinting in the sun, every inch the violent enforcer. But Chishiya could see the slight spring in his step, the energy in his movements. A satisfied predator heading back to patrol with the knowledge that his territory was secure, his claim acknowledged.

"Oh honey," Kuina said once Niragi was out of earshot. "You are so fucked."

"Eloquent."

"But accurate." She lit another cigarette, studying Chishiya through the smoke. "That man would literally kill for you. Has killed for you, probably. And you just made his whole day by saying one word of praise and implying you'll fuck him later."

Chishiya said nothing, watching Niragi's retreating form disappear into the Beach's interior. His mind was already spinning through implications of the evening meeting, calculating power dynamics and possible moves, but part of his attention remained fixed on that tall figure with its violent grace and desperate devotion.

Kuina was right. He was fucked.

Question was: when had he stopped seeing that as a tactical liability and started seeing it as... something else?

Something he might actually want to keep?