Chapter Text
P.D. 325
The guy in the bar was extremely cute.
Up 'til then, Shino hadn't quite realised guys could be cute in real life. Not like that. Like, some were cute the way kids were cute, all small and vulnerable-looking. But that was different from the way some women were cute, which fired a very different part of his brain.
And maybe he'd seen pictures of people who were closer to the second than the first, the kind that got his motor running and made him want to have their skin under his hands, their lips on his mouth, their…
Well, Shino knew he had no problem with cocks in theory, as a component of where hands and lips led, even if his experience was limited to a little mutual assistance in the course of getting off to pictures of cute girls. He'd just never encountered anyone in the wild with one who was willing to put that theory into practice. Usually he got something more along the lines of caution because he was big and potentially a threat. Or irritation over how he was perhaps being a bit louder than necessary. Or, his personal favourite, what the fuck are you doing talking to my girl.
He'd tried the come-back of why can't we share exactly once, 'cos it ended in getting called a lot of very mean things and a fight Akihiro had to carry him away from. Not an experience he was in any hurry to repeat.
But this guy?
Yeah.
What else was he supposed to do except go over and say hello?
“Krish,” the man introduced himself, over a glass of red wine, the most expensive thing on the menu by a big margin.
Shino said hello back only to discover he didn't know how to go on. Something about seeing Krish up close made his usual lines feel totally inadequate. He was suddenly very aware of how lame he'd sound if he got it wrong.
Krish ran a finger around the rim of his glass. “So. Want to get out of here, Shino?”
It was easier outside. The quiet and the night air helped get his brain unglued. “Couldn't take your eyes off me, huh?”
“What can I say? Don't usually have something worth staring at in that place.”
He must have had a few years on Shino. Not old but older, with the easier confidence that came of it. When he stopped and pressed Shino against a wall, caressing his face and pushing into a kiss, the move was smooth and rehearsed.
“You smoke?” A dumb question but there was this taste in the guy's mouth, past the wine, something bitter.
“Yeah.” He produced a cigarette – a real one – and flicked a silver lighter, the tiny flame there and gone again. “You?” he asked, after a long drag, mist billowing from his lips.
“Uh… no. I don't.” Never had the chance, too costly, couldn't form the habit. “Thanks anyway.”
“OK.”
But holy fuck maybe Shino should start, because what it did to him, watching Krish pull on the cig and blow the smoke out like that…
“Not a problem, is it?”
“Uh – n-no! No way.” Had he ever had that reaction to a girl before? Had he ever seen a girl smoking a real cigarette? Had he ever seen a real –
“My apartment's nearby,” Krish said, rescuing him for a wild mental spiral. “Unless cold streets are your thing.”
“Skipping straight to taking me back to your place?”
“I figured yours would be a bit far to walk.”
Shino laughed. Tekkadan were famous now, so it wasn't uncommon to get picked out of a crowd because of his coat. Though people coming on to him because of it had gotten rarer as the months rolled by. Good to know the effect hadn't completely worn off. “You do this often?”
“Pick up handsome soldier-boys in seedy bars to have my wicked way with them? I dabble.”
Something about that phrasing rang oddly. Handsome, he'd take, no question. But 'soldier-boy' seemed weirdly… he didn't quite know what. And the bar they'd left was pretty up-market for this part of town, wasn't it?
He studied the street Krish led him down, trying to keep track of the route. He'd heard stories – and by 'heard', he meant various people had tried to rib him for his off-duty habits – about guys who got lured into back-alleys and knocked over the head. In general, he thought he was actually quite good at spotting the people who might do that to him and long ago decided the best thing he could do was stay out of their way.
This guy just didn't have the vibe of a thief. His clothes were too good for one thing. A deep black shirt, grey slacks that clung to his long legs, a quality cloth jacket with a lined hood. And his hair was properly washed, hanging in thick, dark waves down to his shoulders. Plus, the wine and the cigarettes. Hardly screamed 'desperate', did it?
“What d'you do, Krish?”
“Work? I wait tables at one of the restaurants in the Central District. Gets kind of full-on but it's a decent gig. Some regulars who tip well, you know?”
That explained it, then. “Cool.”
“Here we are.” They stopped at a white door, the end of a row of tenements. “I'm on the top floor. Nice and private.”
Shino grinned.
In the four metres from the top of the stairs to the bed, they managed to lose their shoes, the hooded jacket, Krish's fancy shirt, and Shino's coat. Whatever earlier wobbles he'd had around the idea of doing this with a guy instead of a girl, the basics were no different.
Still a hell of rush to scoop Krish into his arms and feel a hand-on between the legs wrapping around his waist. Oh, that was nice! Almost a shame to let him go, but seeing him sprawled half-naked across the covers might have been even nicer. He almost glowed under the overhead lamp, golden and smooth, except for the black tufts in his armpits, which he showed off as he stretched out, glorying in the attention.
His skin felt fantastic. Shino ran his hands up and down, and down some more, snagging the belt-buckle loose. Krish made this great little pleased sound as he wriggled out of his pants, happy to be undressed. His mouth still tasted of smoke when Shino leaned in for another kiss, their tongues slipping so easily together.
More dark hair, around his balls and his dick –
“Don't tell me I've shocked you dumb here,” Krish teased him, grabbing a handful of his ass. “I was kind of hoping I wasn't going to be the biggest thing in bed tonight.”
Honestly? He wasn't not feeling some weird, tongue-tying things at the sight of an excited cock aimed towards him. “How, uh, how'd you figure I'd be into you, anyway? I was talking to girls, mostly, back there.”
“And getting shot down left and right from what I could tell. But you seemed to be taking it well. Thought I'd try my luck.”
“I…”
“Yeah?”
“What… how are we doing this?”
“Ah.” Krish pulled them together, lips exploring Shino's jaw, working upwards until he could breathe in his ear. “More experienced with the ladies, is that it?” His tongue flicked out, putting a stop to the automatic protest. Then he pushed Shino gently away. “You can start by showing me what you've got.”
Turned out, a challenge was exactly what Shino needed. He stripped off fast as he could, confident he was not going to disappoint. Sure enough, once he was standing there, hands on his hips, tall and proud in all the right places, an unashamed eagerness came into Krish's eyes. Scooting to the edge of the bed, he went up on his knees to slip his arms around Shino's waist. “Oh yeah,” he breathed, pressing his nose against Shino's chest, “that's the stuff.”
Saving showers for right before nights on the town was a good habit, apparently. “Uh, OK. Sorry I don't really go for perfume or anything…”
“You know how sick I get of cologne and perfume? Rich pricks trying to cover who the fuck knows what. This is so much better. You smell like you work for a living. A real-life knight of Tekkadan.”
Those stories the Dort colonists had told about them followed the Isaribi home to Mars. Something to do with some guy Kudelia knew. It'd annoyed Orga. He said fairy tales would get in the way of being taken seriously. But the steady flow of jobs since proved him wrong. Plus, of course, he wasn't the type to see the other kinds of advantages in being called heroes.
Almost lazily, Krish took hold of Shino's dick, fingers feeling it out. “So… ready for a little learning experience?”
Shino shivered. “Sure. Let's see what you've got.”
P.D. 331
“Uuffffffff – has anyone ever told you that you give incredible head?”
Yamagi made a show of licking his lips, letting his tongue linger, wet and sticky. “I'd say the reviews speak for themselves.”
Maksym laughed. And it was such a nice laugh, soft, musical, full of the same warmth with which he ran his fingers through Yamagi's hair, a gentle petting for a job well done. He loved touching, stroking, ghosting his hands over any skin within reach. It was one of the best parts of dating him, how easily and often he reached out.
That, and his being so big and broad and girthy.
“I thought this was supposed to make you last longer,” Yamagi murmured, tapping the metal band that captured Maksym's balls and the base of his cock in a grip he swore wasn't actually painful.
“Like I said, you're incredible.” He cupped Yamagi's ear. “Also you took that as challenge.”
“Yeah. I did.” Fuck, but it looked good too, the steel ring contrasting beautifully with the blood-dark flesh. On impulse, he twisted it a little, which rewarded him with a breathy gasp. “Heh.”
“…why do I suddenly feel like I've created a monster?”
“Look, you're the one who likes going around with his junk in a vice. You trying to tell me you don't want to be tortured a little?”
Flopping over backwards, Maksym laughed again. “I'm starting to think I'd let you do anything to me for some more of that tongue.”
Yamagi stretched his arms above his head, then followed Maksym down, pinning him to the bed. “Just for my tongue, huh?”
“Well… I'll take the rest too. If you're offering.”
They met in a pub, during Zack's last birthday party, when Yamagi, bored and tipsy, had stared a fraction too long at the beefy guy in the tight t-shirt waiting ahead of him at the bar. One thing led to another led to bed, to some low-stakes fun, a promise to do it again some time, and so on, until they were doing it pretty damn regularly, actually, and that seemed as good a reason as any to spend more time together. Which was… nice. Being around Maksym was nice in general, a steady, reassuring stream of touches and hugs and the sheer pleasure of being enfolded by those thick, thick muscles.
He worked at a warehouse north of the city, a job his uncle had given him, packing food from the farms. Honest and boring but it kept him in drink money and it'd do while he waited for his big break. Or so he said. He never seemed to know what kind of big break he wanted, much less when it was going to arrive. Yamagi suspected he was perfectly happy taking a steady pay-cheque and shifts that left him time free for bar-hopping and bed-hopping. Hopping on beds. Hopping into one particular bed, as often as he could.
Whatever term was most appropriate for regularly getting himself railed into next week.
“Turn on your front,” Yamagi ordered, relishing having authority over someone so hot. His relationship with Tam might not have gone anywhere but it taught him a lot about his own desires. A couple of hits and misses later, learning the importance of making sure people didn't reach the wrong conclusion based on their size relative to him, and he'd gotten pretty damn comfortable with being in charge. It was fun! Especially when it involved – oh yes, views like that.
“MmmmMMm,” Maksym purred as Yamagi toyed with his butt, which was pretty much perfect, as asses went.
Yamagi gave it a solid slap and reached for the lube. “So… what would you be willing to do for my dick, exactly?”
“I gotta get specific now?”
“I'm curious.”
“OK, well – hnn! I, uh – ah! Oh, I don't know. You tell me. What do I gotta do?”
That was probably fair. Hard to concentrate under the circumstances, although it was tempting to force him to try. “Hmmm.” Bracing himself over Maksym's back, Yamagi stopped there a moment, touching without pushing. “Would you beg for it?”
“Oh, fuck, yeah! I am begging you! Please!”
Close enough. “Would you be my servant?” he asked, sliding inside, slow and confident.
“Ah! A-anytime! What, you want me to go around, bringing you drinks and stuff?”
“Drinks, massages, using you as a footstool… I'm sure I could find a few ways to go mad with power.”
“I'll bet. Hn!”
In and out, steady, merciless thrusts. “Would you pay me for it?”
“Babe, I couldn't afford what you're worth.”
Oh, not bad. Not bad at all. “Would you… let me tattoo my name on you?”
“Mmmm… whereabouts are we talking?”
Yamagi reached his hands under Maksym's chest, pulling them close together. “Anywhere I liked.”
The deep rumble of pleasure was not an answer, as such, but he'd take it.
He grinned viciously into Maksym's shoulder, a kiss that was mostly bite. “Would you…”
The thought suddenly filled his mind, clear as a thunderbolt, unavoidable as gravity. He didn't want to say it. How could he? Problem was, now it was there, how could he not? Swallowing Maksym to the hilt was nothing compared to choking back that one, horrible comparison.
Thrusting deeper, harder, trying to blind himself with the sensation, it made no difference. The words loomed larger and larger, racing closer faster than any orgasm could come. Meteor swift –
“Would you fight for me?”
Panting, Maksym craned his neck, peering up at him. “Like… if another guy tried coming on to you, would I deck him?”
“Would you?”
“Depends. Is he hot? Does he think I'm hot too?”
A joke. Because that's what he thought this was. Joking around, stroking the ego of a demanding dom. Maybe he assumed the same when Yamagi asked, quiet as a murder, “Would you fight a war for me?”
Harder and harder, turning bitter memories into urgency. Fuck them out, make someone else happy. This was where he belonged now. Yamagi Bright, laughing with his lover, seizing hold of today
Maksym moaned into the pillows. “I'd… I'd fight the whole world for you. Just… don't stop.”
Too close. Too cruel. He wanted more. More than he'd been allowed, years ago, an ignorant kid. Things only an adult knew to wish for. “Would you run away for me?”
“Anything, babe. Anything!”
And in that beautiful, overwhelming moment, Yamagi believed him completely.
P.D. 325
Shino woke up alone, to the sound of running water. Awareness of where he was and why swam slowly to the surface of his brain, bringing with it a broad, satisfied smile. It was nice to have proof he really was so hot even the guys wanted him. And, he guessed, stretching across the bed to pat the space where Krish had been, that he really did want hot guys as well.
The water stopped. A shower. Cleaning up after last night. The idea was nice. The thought of getting Krish dirty again, nicer. He lay back, hands folded behind his head, waiting.
A door opened. Footsteps padded past the bedroom without stopping. Some moments later, a kettle started grumbling.
Aww. No fair. Shino was ready for another round! Especially since… Krish had gone easy on him, hadn't he? Motions that trailed off, or went somewhere more normal than they could've. Shino's normal. Which wasn't anything to be ashamed of. He'd done plenty with women, more than most guys, he'd bet!
But he'd some idea what guys could do with each other and knew they'd barely scratching the surface.
What kind of man would he be if he didn't dig deeper?
The kettle finished boiling and he threw off the covers, searching for his clothes, still scattered on the floor. After considering for a minute, he decided to leave it at just his boxer shorts. Show off the goods, get Krish hot and bothered again, see where things went. That sounded like a plan.
The first reaction was promising, too, as Krish lowered his coffee mug, eyes dancing over every centimetre of Shino's skin. “Good morning, sunshine.”
“Hey! You're up early.” It was dark outside and a solid hour before Shino would normally be making a start to the day.
“Yeah, I'm covering the breakfast shift.”
“Ah, right.”
“I ordered you a taxi.”
“Oh. OK.” Damn. “How long's that gonna be…?”
Krish regarded him for a long moment then set his mug aside. He was smirking as he took the couple of steps necessary to close the distance between them. “So I didn't wear you out last night?”
“I'd say we only just got started.”
Shino's dick, at least, wasn't wasting any time, going fully stiff from the slightest touch, which did not stay slight for long. “OK.” Krish wrapped his hand around and pulled Shino into the kitchen, turning him, pushing him against the counter. “Let's see how fast you can be.”
Another challenge. At first, that was great. Krish was dressed for work, neat black waist-coat, a white shirt, and he didn't take anything off. Just unzipped his pants and brought out his cock, pressing it together with Shino's, jerking them both at the same time. He'd done that before and it was amazing. It was all Shino could do to hold on to the edge of the counter-top, clenching his teeth as a moan built in his throat.
Who could blame him for not being able to last? Especially since he'd been told to finish quick.
Krish kept going, working himself on Shino's dick, speeding up before anything started to go limp. His eyes fluttered shut and then –
“Oh, shit!” It spurted in a thick glob, coating his hand, and some of it shook off on to the leg of his nice work trousers. He jerked backwards, swearing some more and scrubbing at the stain with his clean hand. “Ah, fuck, I need to – urgh.”
Well there went the mood. Shino was left standing there like a total doorstop while Krish stormed off to change. He looked down at himself and wondered if he could make it to the bathroom without dripping gunk anywhere.
“Use the wash-cloth to clean up!” An indistinct shout from the bedroom. “You can throw it straight in the laundry.”
OK then. Not the nicest option – kind of gross, actually – but it did the job. He rinsed off his hands and wandered after Krish. The two of them nearly collided in the doorway, which got him a sour glare. “Sorry,” he called, unsure if he was apologising for just that or the whole thing.
Sighing, frowning, he set about dressing, the buzz very firmly gone. When he came out, Krish had that hooded jacket on and was downing the rest of his coffee. He pulled a face at Shino, not mean or anything, but clearly unhappy.
“You gonna be all right?”
“Yeah, yeah. This pair smells a bit but they'll do. I just need to make sure I do the laundry today, instead of tomorrow like I planned –” A car-horn sounded twice from the street and he glanced at the window. “Your ride's here.”
They tramped downstairs in silence. The taxi waited on the corner, engine turning over impatiently. Krish nodded. “There you go.”
“Right.” Shino puzzled over what else to say, since it seemed lame not to say something. “Hey, I had fun. Did… you did too, yeah? Apart from, uh…”
“Sure. Yeah, sure I did.” A flash of teeth, a return of that hungry charm, not completely hidden by work-day worries. “You did good for your first time, Shino.”
“Hey, it's not like it was my first first time!”
“Whatever you say, kiddo. Here – this'll cover the fare.”
And then some. Shino took the wad of gallar notes automatically, body moving ahead of his brain. “No, wait, I got cash, I can pay –”
“Nah, my treat. You earned it. See you around sometime, maybe?”
“Yeah,” he said, watching Krish hurry away, the man's money crumpling in his fist, “maybe.”
P.D. 331
Play with fire and you risked getting burned. Everyone knew that, Yamagi more than most. Or at least he should've. What had he expected from pouring the past into the present and using it as fuel for a good fuck? That the burns wouldn't sting in the morning?
Burns on the inside. Places where nobody could see and no one was interested in looking. Which was fine most of the time. He'd ignore them too, if he could. Tried to, more often than not. If only there was an option to truly forget, erase the pain with a snap of his fingers –
Well, obviously he'd be too weak to take it. It was still nice to consider. To picture some freer version of himself, instead of stubbornly play-acting the kind of person who could seize the day with no regrets, because that was what he'd longed for, trapped at the centre of the blaze.
Had it been a nightmare? Sometimes it was, for all that he'd never really earned his bad dreams. Back he'd go, the hopeless kid again, screaming at the top of his lungs, going unheard by the man he was desperately calling to. Or he'd run towards a distant figure, never graining, or pull on an arm, begging, pleading, only to find himself holding nothing save a strip of cloth, unspooling infinitely into a black, sparkling sky.
But sometimes he couldn't blame his unconscious. When the roar of sex faded and sleep escaped him, it was so easy to start listening to his memory. A slow, familiar downward spiral, until he was having silent arguments with ghosts, playing pointless games of what-if. Always the same and oh, how he resented that. It wasn't as if each miserable repetition brought any new insight. Losing people you cared about sucked. What a shocking revelation! Let's go pick the scab off again for the billionth time.
And he would, sifting through could-have-beens, breathing on embers.
He woke long before Maksym. Lay there, waiting to see if the hollow feeling would fade on its own. Eventually he decided it was better to take his misery somewhere else, see if activity cured it. Activity that didn't involve disturbing his boyfriend, who continued to snore gently as Yamagi crept out of bed.
The living room was grey in the pre-dawn light. Chills spread up his bare legs. He thought about brewing some tea, only to decide it'd be too noisy. A great weight of exhaustion drove him to sofa, to grab the blanket he kept for… well, pretty much this exact situation. It was a thin, ratty old thing that didn't so much provide warmth as underline its absence. He wrapped himself up, curling into the cushions. A change was as good as a rest. He'd heard that somewhere. Worth a shot, he supposed, to try nodding off for another couple of hours.
The cold spread, turning his flesh to lead, and his head swam, but that was all. Sleep refused to take him. Perhaps it had rejected him outright. Hard to blame anyone for doing that.
Shino said he was scary, at the end. Yamagi had brushed him off so many times, kinder, gentler words stuck like barbed wire in his throat. How could anyone have worked it out sooner, under those conditions?
Tarō touched the whiskers on his back and screamed, pivoting from horny to disgusted. Yamagi hadn't meant to deceive him. Not the way he thought. But hoping it wouldn't matter… perhaps that had been a lie even so.
And as for Maksym…
“Yamagi?” There he was, framed by the bedroom doorway, a great hunk of a man, silky hair sticking in every direction. He smiled sleepily. “Whatcha doing?”
Because normal people didn't run away to go hoard their misery in the corner.
“Are you… all right?”
Part of Yamagi wanted to laugh. The rest of him stayed mute, barely managing a tiny shake of the head.
Maksym's face contorted with worry. He came to peer closer, searching for signs of illness. Yamagi recoiled from the hand he reached out and he flinched, eyes widening. “Uh. S-sorry. I'll… I'll get some coffee on.”
A nervous silence brewed under the burbling of the kettle. This was the part nobody liked. Seeing the strings attached to their fun. What was wrong, Maksym would be asking himself. Where was the confident guy he'd been having such a good time with? The lump on the sofa who'd replaced him was weird and off-putting and probably represented a horribly messy core previously kept well-hidden, which added false advertising to the list of charges he would be starting to draft in his –
“Right, you have tea.” The clattering of cupboards. The clink of crockery and spoons. “Um. Hey… did I… are you mad at me over something?”
Summoning whatever reserves of humanity he possessed, Yamagi forced his lungs to produce words. “No.” This was nothing to do with Maksym. He shouldn't think he was to blame.
“OK.” His relief sounded loud and clear. A minute later he walked over with the two steaming mugs. “Then what's up?”
The whole of Yamagi's life stretched out behind him. “It's nothing.”
“It doesn't look like nothing.” Since he was making no move to take the tea, Maksym placed it on the table then stepped around to the other end of the sofa. “You can tell me. Whatever it is.”
“I just slept badly. That's all.”
“You sure?”
Should he explain? Spill everything, every detail, every crime, the whole history of the Third Group and Tekkadan. Bare the unburied carcass of Yamagi Gilmerton for his lover to see. Why not? Rip the bandage off and take the consequences, discover if their relationship could stand the impact.
No. Too soon. Too much. Too many other people affected.
So he swallowed his tongue and shrank deeper into his corner, leaving as much space between them as he could. And they sat, unspeaking, until the coffee was gone and the tea, cold.
Abruptly, Maksym stood up. “L-look, babe, I need to get to work. I'm sorry, I'll… I'll come back later. Check you're… is there someone you can call? It's the weekend for most folks, so… well, I guess you know what you need, yeah?” He stared at Yamagi with a forlorn hope in his eyes.
Whatever he saw staring back, it couldn't have been reassuring.
Once he was dressed, he returned to dither a moment, fiddling with his earring. “I know… I know there's a lot of stuff you don't want to talk about. With the, uh… you know.” A gesture at the base of his neck. “But you can tell me. I promise.”
Yamagi opened his mouth.
His throat filled with barbed wire.
Maksym waited another few seconds, sighed, and went to put on his shoes.
P.D. 325
All through the drive, Shino tried to argue himself out of getting mad. He'd had fun! Some last-minute screw-up didn't change that. It hadn't even been Shino's screw-up. He'd nothing to feel sorry for himself over.
Nothing at all.
Krish's money was still crunched in his hand. He could've put it away. Probably should've. But he'd need it to pay the driver. So keeping it out was just saving time. Yeah, that was totally the reason. Absolutely not the scummy feeling he got from having been given it in the first place.
Didn't even make sense. He'd paid plenty of women to sleep with him and never thought less of them for taking the cash. That was their job. It'd have been insulting them to act like they weren't worth every penny, which they always were. And he wasn't Eugene, going moon-eyed over that Lorelei girl. He knew none of this had anything to do with love or some crap like that. A bit of fun in the here and now, that's what he wanted. Nothing more. If he had to pay for it, he was glad to. It wasn't as if the money would do him any good otherwise.
Common sense told him this was no different. That he should be grateful not to be hitch-hiking his way home, that he wouldn't have to wait as long to scratch the itch again at The Bird House, now he'd earned a little extra for his trouble.
Only…
He hadn't been trying to earn it. That wasn't his job. And OK, he never claimed to understand everything about how this stuff worked, but he was pretty sure the rules for picking people up in bars weren't the same as going to a place that gave you a price-list.
In his head, he kept hearing the things Krish had called him. 'Kiddo'. 'Soldier-boy'. Nicknames that could have belonged to anyone – or anyone like him, anyone from Tekkadan, any soldier on Mars who was willing. Kind of took away the sense of achievement. 'Cos then it hadn't been about him. He was just the nearest best match to whatever it was the guy liked to fuck.
Shino was pretty sure Krish hadn't even been looking at him, when he'd had him up against the counter. Just at their dicks. Which was maybe fine. Who wouldn't? Yet still, he couldn't shake the sense of having done something he hadn't quite agreed to.
Or perhaps he was just pissed over being treated like a child. 'Good job little boy, go buy yourself some candy.'
Bleagh.
He told the driver to keep the change. Handed over the whole wad. Problem solved. No need to worry about it any more.
The sentries ribbed him for arriving home in a taxi, like some big-shot. He laughed along but the smile slipped off his face as soon as he was through the gate. Kicking at the ground, he sent a few stray red pebbles skittering over the concrete and tried to work out how to shift his mood.
His stomach promptly issued a resounding growl. Right! Everything always looked better after a meal. Shino would hit the mess hall then the gym. That'd straighten his brain out for sure. Even just the thought of it made him feel better. He quickened his step, eager to get started.
“Oof!”
It was a pretty one-sided collision. The impact definitely registered as a shock, but he stayed steady on his feet while the person who'd walked out of the main block just as he was turning the corner bounced clean off. If Shino hadn't grabbed for him, the poor guy would likely have ended up flat on his ass.
“Oh, hey Yamagi!”
“Wha – Shino?” A blue eye squinted at him through a curtain of blonde hair. “Watch where you're going.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. You OK?”
Yamagi tugged free, half-heartedly brushing at his coat. “Yeah. Just didn't expect…” The squint became a frown. “What are you doing out here this early?”
“Heh. I just got back.”
“Oh.” Flat disapproval, as was the normal reaction to talk of hitting the town overnight. For all Yamagi's many good qualities, he sometimes gave the impression of being an ancient grandma who thought fun was bad for the character.
“Well what about you? What are you doing up?”
“Uh. I. Um.” This non-answer was accompanied by a sudden shifty expression and a sharp turn of the head, which only succeeded in drawing Shino's attention to his grimy, rumpled appearance. Mechanics' overalls flattered exactly no one but even somebody as skinny as Yamagi usually managed to look less like he'd gone through the dryer with his clothes.
A nagging suspicion formed and immediately solidified. “Did you actually go to bed last night?”
“I had to finish getting your Alaya-Vijnana moved over to the Shiden. We can't bring it online until everything's properly installed. With the new recruits arriving next week I figured we needed to get it done sooner than later. So I did.”
The explanation came out at a rush. That was OK though. Shino could fill in the blanks. Yamagi staying on after everyone else left, promising Pops it would only take a few minutes longer, half an hour tops. The half hour turning into an hour and then five, as one thing led to another and another. Somewhere along the way, finishing a single task became completing everything on the list. Now here he was, swaying slightly in the morning light, squinty-frown revealed as the barely-focused grumpiness of somebody clinging to wakefulness by the skin of his teeth.
Gratitude filled Shino from head to boots. That'd be his Shiden soon enough and Yamagi had gone above and beyond to speed things along. Same as always. Because like Shino, he was a soldier, no patronising '-boy' on the end, doing his part to keep Tekkadan going.
He prodded Yamagi in the chest. “Dumbass. You should have told me. I'd have stayed and helped.”
“I didn't need you. This was the connections, not the calibration. We can do that today though, if you like.” Blinking quickly, Yamagi looked straight at him. “It won't hurt this time. I promise.”
“Good! 'Cos last time sucked. But we'll worry about that later. Right now, you're coming to have some food and then you're getting the rest of the morning off to sleep”
A string of half-formed protests and a sharp 'Shino!' made no difference to him taking his friend by the shoulder and half-guiding, half-dragging him towards the mess. That was Shino's part of the deal, after all. He couldn't handle the technical stuff or the fine tuning necessary to keep at the top of his mobile suit game. So he looked after the guys who could, especially this guy, who was definitely not the best at looking after himself.
Maybe one day he'd work out how to persuade Yamagi to loosen up a bit, too. But even if he didn't, keeping him alive – keeping everyone alive – was just about everything he could ask for.
P.D. 333
Another grey dawn, outside and in. Another escape into the chilly comfort of that old blanket.
It had definitely been a nightmare this time, vivid and grim, all rust and broken bones. The leftover shreds cling to Yamagi, a layer of grime driven under the skin. His head buzzes like an engine stuffed with knives. His body thrums with anxieties he's no way to fix. And he can't stop thinking how unfair it is that this keeps happening.
Shouldn't he be cured? Surely most people who got a wish to come true would spend the rest of their lives skipping on clouds. Does he really have to make do with 'less often'? What good is that? All that means is he has more stacked up when the wrong sort of day comes along to tip him over.
Perhaps it's logical. If you have miserable memories to spare, salving a few isn't going to do much in the grand scheme. The fact Derma is alive and kicking doesn't mean Yamagi can't remember him bleeding out in a Landman's cockpit. Sharing jokes with Chad or Eugene won't erase the pain they've gone through together. Loving the survivors can't stop him mourning the dead.
He still hates being stuck waiting for the horrible exhaustion to pass, like a shift in the weather.
“Yamagi?”
Shino stands where Maksym once stood and perhaps that's why seeing him doesn't stir any of the normal joy. Perhaps today's when he finally learns Yamagi isn't worth it, when all the irritations reach critical mass and the blast leaves only the problems behind. The reasons to leave.
“You were tossing and turning a lot.”
His left arm dangles from his hand, not yet connected. A machine, waiting to be turned on. How much simpler things would be if everyone had circuits and wires, binary states changed at the flick of a switch. Does Doc Chaifin do prosthetic brains? Yamagi should apply to the Admos Company for a grant. Extreme medical necessity: he wants his feelings to leave him the fuck alone.
“Bad dreams again?”
Why can't Yamagi answer? Why does his voice fail him, even here with Shino, this best possible world they've stumbled into together?
Shino nods, gaze drifting. He shoves the arm on to the connector and twists, locking it in place. Then he marches past, heading for the kitchen. A few moments later he's back, holding a glass of water. “C'mon. It'll help.”
He's not taking no for an answer. Keeps watch, making sure Yamagi drinks. It's almost annoying how good the water tastes.
“There, see? Now, what else do you need?”
“Nh.” Thinking requires energy he doesn't have. “D'n.”
“Like that, huh?” With more brisk decisiveness, Shino goes to the terminal and punches in a number. The connection trills and a familiar voice answers, speaking over the babble of children. “Hi Yukinojo. Yamagi's not gonna be in today. Me either, I think. Yeah, it's nothing serious, he's just out of sorts. Thanks, I'll tell him. See you later. Bye.”
“Pops says get better soon,” he reports obediently, as if Yamagi couldn't hear well enough from where he was sitting. “No, look, I know you've stuff you wanted to do but it'll still be there tomorrow. You'd only get mad at yourself if you did something wrong because you were too tired to focus.”
Yamagi slumps, momentary burst of determination disappearing. He can't pretend it isn't a relief to not have the working day hanging over him, even if he feels extra useless as a result.
Shino wanders about, collecting his data pad, fixing himself some tea. Then he settles next to Yamagi, leaving as big a gap as he can. Doesn't try to hug or make a fuss, doesn't ask any pestering questions. Just sits there, reading quietly.
It would be easy to reach and touch him. It would be easy for him to do the same. But he's comfortable leaving the choice up to Yamagi and that's…
Comforting.
“I'm sorry.” A breath let out. An admission of defeat.
“You don't need to be,” Shino says, which is much better than asking 'what for'. “I've been there. It sucks. But you're not gonna go through it alone.”
Slowly, inevitably, Yamagi leans sideways to rest his head on Shino's shoulder. As always, it feels like it belongs there. Like the two of them fit together. “I used to be so mean to you,” he murmurs, finding something he probably does need to apologise for.
“Mean?” Shino blinks down at him. “To me?”
“The things I said when I was avoiding saying what I… I called you dumb a lot.”
“You and everyone else. I am dumb. Always have been.”
“You're…no…I…”
“Pretty sure I earned everything you said to me back then. But that's OK.” Dropping the pad, he puts his right arm tentatively around Yamagi, the gesture gradually growing firmer. “Cos if I earned getting on your bad side, I earned the stuff you did for me too. Would you have wasted all that work on somebody you didn't think was worth it?”
“I wanted you to be safe.” 'Wanted'. Hah. What a tiny word, inadequate word.
“You wanted that for someone like me. I never told you how much that meant.”
“You didn't need to.”
Because that's the trick, isn't it? Everything they don't have to say. Yamagi could force himself to explain, describe the nightmares, which particular bad memories ambushed him today – a mobile worker's windscreen, splintered; a seat, splattered red; crumpled armour, bleeding, oil mixed with iron –
But that'd just be telling Shino stuff they both already know. What they've always known. So instead…
Smiling, the cold in his body not nearly enough to stop him, Yamagi nestles closer. “M' gonna stay here.”
“Sure. Long as you like. I'm not going anywhere.”
And he doesn't.