Callen's lips slanted more urgently over Yu's, hunger breaking past the playfulness he usually masked himself with. His hands roamed, one sliding boldly up Yu's side while the other gripped his hip tighter, anchoring him. Yu gasped, trembling under the onslaught, his head spinning.
[WARNING! WARNING!]
[Host, you're deviating! Not only is this regarded as OOC but it also goes against protocol! You need Theo's approval first if you wish to engage in intercourse with other men! The system is flagging this and the termination of your soul is pending. Immediate disengage required. Get away from Callen!]
[REINS ON INCUBUS KING SOUL LOOSENING!
WARNING!]
Yu's instincts screamed the opposite. His long-dormant Incubus hunger—the part of him that had lain coiled and patient—stirred awake in a rush. His lips parted, his body arched, and he moaned softly against Callen's mouth as his fingers curled into the fabric of Callen's shirt, dragging him closer.
The warnings flashed sharper.
[Host has entered dangerous threshold. Pregnancy endangered. Host at risk. Protocol breach imminent.]
For one frantic second, DK01 calculated a dozen dead ends. Every path ended in the same flashing message:
Termination. Death.
Then—like a spark in the darkness—it found the loophole.
[Incubus King Soul has been deemed too insatiable and thus, has been placed under strict diet restrictions. Host is only allowed to feed off of Tragic Target's at maximum twice per intercourse relations. Once permission is granted by Tragic Target, restrictions will apply to other men in Host's harem. This is to prevent Host's Incubus Soul from over-feeding and potentially killing food sources, including the Tragic Targets.
Clause: Incubus King Soul, Fail-Safe Protocol.
In the event that permission is not granted by Tragic Target and restrictions are otherwise deemed harmful, said restrictions can be lifted with approval from the system bound by the host. When restrictions are lifted, once Host has completed first intimacy with designated Tragic Target, auxiliary feeding with other vessels permitted for system stabilization.]
[Addendum: Lifting such restrants will allow additional feeding as well as releashing limited intake of vitality. While feeding from other sources strengthens vessel stamina, there will be a risk of over-feeding target, leading to potential host-kill.]
DK01 didn't hesitate.
[Requesting System Approval: Approve.
Adjustment Activated.]
[Note: Host's new parameters have been allowed. Incubus Soul may now feed on alternative sources beyond the Tragic Target to stabilize vessel without explicit given consent from Tragic Target.]
[Warning! Balance must be maintained. Too much from one man may cause system drain fatality. Too little overall intake risks starvation.]
Yu wasn't listening. The floodgate had burst.
His Incubus instincts surged fully awake, snapping through him like lightning. He kissed back with raw hunger, his thighs parting as Callen pressed closer, their breaths hitching and mingling. Callen groaned into his mouth, thrilled at the sudden surrender, his fingers now tracing the dip of Yu's waist as if memorizing every soft curve.
Yu's mind spun between fear and bliss.
'This… this isn't supposed to happen. But oh, Gods… it feels so good.'
Yu shoved his loose pants down his thighs, the fabric rasping over skin, and the soft thud of cotton hitting the floor was drowned out by the wet slick of Yu's tongue as he licked his lower lip. He rolled his hips forward, slow and deliberate, the slick sound of skin dragging over cotton cushions loud in the charged silence.
Callen's self-control shattered like crystal the instant Yu's voice—low, velvet, edged with demonic hunger—slid into his ear.
"Right here. Right now. Or never again."
The words dripped like molten sin, each syllable vibrating against Callen's skin. Yu's eyes burned a subtle crimson, pupils blown wide, and the air itself seemed to throb with the low, predatory hum that always rose when an Incubus fed.
Callen's breath stuttered. His hands shook as he yanked his own sweats down; the elastic snapped against his hip with a sharp crack. His cock sprang free, flushed dark and already dripping, the bead of pre-cum stretching in a thin, glistening thread before it broke and landed on Yu's trembling thigh.
Yu's answering moan was pure filth—throaty, broken, rising into a needy whine as Callen's length dragged up the seam of his ass, smearing wetness over already-slick skin. The sound punched straight through Callen's chest.
"God, Yu…"
Callen's voice cracked, raw.
"You're gonna fucking ruin me."
He lined himself up, the blunt head nudging against that tight, greedy, wet hole, and pushed. The slow, wet slide tore a guttural cry from Yu's throat—high and desperate, echoing off the walls like a plea and a curse all at once.
"Ohh! Fuck!"
"Yu! Damnit! So—tight!"
Callen groaned at the clutch of velvet muscle, the obscene, slick sound of his cock sinking in inch by inch filling the room, louder than their breathing.
Yu's moan ripped out raw and unguarded, his glowing eyes half-lidded as instinct and need blurred. His Incubus soul drank in the energy of the act, power buzzing through his veins like a drug.
From the back of his mind, DK01's voice cut through, cold and clipped.
[Host, you are currently feeding with no filtration or limiter to hold you back. Stabilization of your soul has been confirmed. Warning! Do not overdraw from single source.]
But Yu couldn't stop. Not now. His hips rolled up to meet Callen's frantic rhythm, his breathy cries spilling in time with the couch's creaks, the air thick with sweat, lust, and the sharp bite of something dangerous unleashed.
"Ahh! Ah! Callen! Fuck me—so good!"
Yu's legs snapped around Callen's hips, heels digging into the small of his back, nails carving burning crescents into his shoulders. The loveseat creaked beneath them, a rhythmic, protesting groan that matched the wet slap of skin on skin as Callen bottomed out with a hoarse grunt.
"Fuck—"
Yu's moan fractured into a string of broken syllables—
"Cal—len—fuck! Yes—more! Fuck, yes—Cal—len! Ah—"
—each one punched out of him with every sharp thrust. The couch squealed louder, fabric sticking and peeling with each roll of their bodies, sweat making everything slick and loud. Yu's voice climbed higher, breathless and wrecked, a constant stream of cries.
"More—harder—please—"
Every one shredded what little restraint Callen had left.
Callen's hips snapped faster, the wet, rhythmic sound of fucking filling the room—lewd, unmistakable, obscene. Yu's back bowed off the cushions, spine cracking as he arched, his cock trapped between them, leaking steadily, smearing pre-cum across both their stomachs in sticky streaks. Every thrust dragged another raw cry from him, the noise filthy and gorgeous, rising into a near-sob when Callen angled just right and hit that spot that made Yu's eyes flash scarlet.
Yu's Incubus nature drank it all in—every ragged breath, every slap of flesh, every choked moan—like wine. The air thrummed with it, thick and electric, the scent of sex and sweat and something darker curling between them.
The couch groaned under them as Callen's pace built faster, more reckless, his forehead pressed against Yu's shoulder, sweat beading at his temples. Yu clung to him, nails carving desperate arcs into Callen's back, his cries spilling with every thrust. His Incubus instincts had fully taken the reins now, each roll of his hips greedier, every moan designed to pull Callen deeper into the spiral.
The glow in Yu's hazel eyes flared faintly red as his body fed, drinking in Callen's vitality like a starving flame finding fuel. He could feel it—strength returning, his soul buzzing with energy, almost euphoric.
Callen broke first. His rhythm stuttered, hips jerking erratically as his orgasm slammed into him. He buried himself deep with a strangled growl.
"Yu—fuck—"
And came with a guttural roar, pulsing hot inside him. The wet sound of his release was loud, unmistakable, and it ripped Yu apart right after.
Yu's cry was shattered glass—high, sharp, almost a scream—his whole body seizing as he came untouched, stripes of white painting his stomach and Callen's. His inner walls clenched hard, milking Callen through it, drawing out every last shudder.
They collapsed together, panting, the room ringing with the wet sound of their breathing and the slowing creak of the abused loveseat. Callen stayed buried inside him, softening slowly, the slick mess between them obscene and perfect.
Yu's thighs trembled around Callen's hips, refusing to let go. He rolled his hips once—slow, deliberate, the wet drag pulling a broken gasp from Callen's raw throat.
[WARNING. Risk of overfeeding. Prolonged coupling could result in fatal drain of target.]
Yu ignored it, leaning up, teeth grazing the shell of Callen's ear, voice a husky, demonic purr that vibrated straight to Callen's spent cock.
"You're not done, are you?"
Callen's stunned hesitation cracked under the weight of those words. His arms tightened around Yu as if he'd never let him go, His cock twitched inside Yu, already stirring again—greedy and impossible—despite his release.
"Not a chance…"
Callen, hoarse and completely undone, rasped.
"Not even fucking close."
And crushed their mouths together as the loveseat groaned in surrender beneath them once more.
The hunger in both of them sparked back to life, reckless and consuming, ready to drag them into another round.
Callen didn't give Yu a chance to pull away—his lips that had crashed back against his were hungrier than before, as if trying to prove that first release hadn't been a fluke. Yu's legs tightened around Callen's waist, pulling him closer, urging him inside deeper with a needy roll of his hips.
Yu, breathless and red-eyed, whispered.
"More… don't you dare stop."
That was all the invitation Callen needed. Reckless, greedy, he surged forward. The loveseat groaned under them as their bodies slammed together, Yu's moans ringing out in broken, beautiful fragments that spurred Callen harder, faster, deeper.
[WARNING!]
[Host, your intake of vitality is dangerously high. Vital drainage of the side character, Callen, is escalating. I advise you to stop after this second round, Yu, any more and you will be overindulging.]
Yu ignored the shrill warnings, arching into the rhythm, clinging tighter, his Incubus instincts drowning him in the euphoria of feeding. With every thrust, he felt stronger, sharper, more alive—while Callen's strength slipped away, little by little.
Callen's mouth was still on Yu's when the second wave hit him, raw, animal, unstoppable. The taste of Yu—salt and lilies and something darkly sweet—flooded his tongue as he rolled his hips hard, grinding deep. The wet squelch of his own cum being fucked back into Yu was so loud it made Callen's ears burn.
Yu broke the kiss with a shattered gasp, head thrown back, throat bared. The sound that tore out of him was pure, filthy music:
A low, rolling moan that cracked into a high, desperate whine on the next thrust. His voice echoed off the walls, raw and wrecked, every note dripping with Incubus hunger.
"Callen, fuck, right there—"
Callen answered with a growl that vibrated through both their chests. He hooked his arms under Yu's knees and shoved them up, folding Yu nearly in half. The new angle dragged a sharp, wet cry from Yu's lips as Callen slammed home again, the slap of skin on skin sharp enough to sting the air.
The loveseat screamed beneath them, wood squealing, frame rattling like it might splinter. Each thrust punched another broken sound from Yu—breathless sobs, filthy curses.
"Gods—Cal—fuck—fuck—Ah—ahh! Cal—Cal—"
Callen's name chanted like a prayer and a curse. Yu's cock, hard again and flushed angry red, slapped wetly against his stomach with every brutal drive, leaving glistening streaks of pre-cum that caught the dim light.
Yu's nails raked down Callen's back, leaving hot, stinging trails.
"Harder!"
He hissed, voice cracking.
"Break me, come on—"
Callen lost the last thread of control. He fucked into Yu like punishment and worship all at once, hips pistoning, the wet, obscene sound of their bodies colliding louder than their breathing. Yu's moans climbed higher, fractured into near-screams, each one punched out of him in perfect time with Callen's thrusts.
The red glow in Yu's eyes flared briefly crimson. His spine bowed impossibly, heels digging into Callen's ass, dragging him deeper. The air crackled; the Incubus was feeding again, drinking in every ragged breath, every slap of flesh, every drop of sweat that rolled down Callen's temple and dripped onto Yu's chest with a soft, wet pat.
Callen felt it, the pull, like Yu was sucking the soul straight out of him through his cock, and it only made him fuck harder. The loveseat rocked violently, one leg scraping across the floor with a tortured screech.
Yu came first this time, sudden and violent. His whole body seized, a strangled scream ripping from his throat as he shot between them again, thick ropes painting his chest and Callen's stomach. The clench of his body around Callen's cock was brutal, milking, greedy.
Callen followed with a hoarse shout, slamming in to the hilt and spilling deep inside Yu for the second time. The wet heat of it, the way Yu's body fluttered and sucked around him, dragged the orgasm out until Callen's vision whited out.
He collapsed forward, catching himself on shaking arms. Their chests heaved together, slick with sweat and come, hearts hammering so hard he felt them both in his teeth.
Yu's legs were still locked around him, trembling. A low, satisfied purr rumbled in Yu's chest, vibrating through Callen's spent body. He could feel Yu's tongue trace the shell of his ear, slow and deliberate, before that dark velvet voice whispered.
"Third time's the charm, cutie."
Callen groaned, half-laugh, half-sob, his hips already rolling again, helpless.
The loveseat gave another long, mournful creak of surrender.
Hours blurred. Sweat dampened cushions, skin, hair. Moans gave way to ragged gasps until Callen finally collapsed, boneless and spent, beside Yu on the loveseat. His chest rose and fell shallowly, his golden lashes stuck with sweat, his lips parted as if whispering Yu's name even in unconsciousness.
Yu's hunger still pulsed. Still unsated. He shifted, sliding down the loveseat, his hazel eyes glowing faint red as he leaned toward Callen's softened seven inch length, lips parting for one last taste.
That was when DK01's voice cut through like a blade.
[CRITICAL ALERT!]
[Host, you have drained an excessive amount of vitality from Callen already. He's nearing critical threshold. One more intake risks fatality, he could die, Yu. That would mean mission failure which could mean death for you too and the potential child in your womb!]
Yu froze, lips trembling inches away. His eyes flickered red, then dulled back toward hazel. He sat up with a pout, annoyed but resigned.
Yu grumbling to DK01.
"Fine. Spoilsport. I'll stop… for now. At least I've got another roommate to feed on."
DK01 didn't respond. The silence was damning enough.
Yu sighed, pulling himself together. His thighs ached, his body buzzed with power, but his hands itched with restless energy. He needed grounding. So he slipped quietly off the loveseat, glanced once at Callen's unconscious form, then padded into the kitchen.
He began cleaning. Wiping down counters, straightening chairs, scrubbing the dishes left in the sink. The mundane rhythm soothed him, distracting him from the gnawing Incubus hunger and the faint guilt coiling beneath it.
Yu murmured softly to himself.
"Maybe I've developed a cleaning disorder… but it keeps me steady. And better this than… losing my mind for cock."
The sound of running water and clinking plates filled the air, replacing the echoes of moans and creaks of the loveseat. For the moment, Yu let the domestic hum drown the Incubus inside him.
Yu's hands moved with quiet precision as he scrubbed the loveseat, erasing every trace of their reckless hours together. The scent of sweat and sex clung stubbornly, but Yu worked methodically—soap, cloth, fresh towels—until the cushions gleamed and the room smelled faintly of lavender cleanser.
Callen, still unconscious, stirred faintly as Yu shifted him upright. With surprising tenderness, Yu slid an arm behind Callen's back, easing him onto the loveseat properly so he didn't look like a crumpled rag doll. Half of Callen's long legs still dangled awkwardly over the edge, but Yu tugged a throw blanket over him and, with a final sigh, even wiped the sheen of sweat from his temple with a damp cloth.
Yu, quiet and muttering to himself, spoke.
"Ridiculous… cleaning up after him like this. But if I don't, who will?"
He stepped back, eyeing his work. The loveseat was pristine. Callen slept like he'd always been there, golden hair messy but peaceful. The sight tugged strangely at Yu—somewhere between annoyance, amusement, and the faintest sting of guilt.
So Yu turned to what grounded him best. Cooking. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten and it was nearing dinner time, so he busied himself in the kitchen—setting down a pot to boil as he softly repeated French phrases under his breath—practicing the words Callen had been drilling into him earlier. It made his lips feel less haunted by the kiss they'd shared, his body less restless.
That's when the front door opened.
Adrian stepped inside quietly, shaking off the chill of evening air. The first thing he noticed was the scent—home-cooked food, warm and rich. The second was the silence, broken only by Yu's faint, lilting voice, murmuring French to himself as he moved between counter and stove.
Then his eyes shifted to the living room. Callen, sprawled across the loveseat, half his legs dangling, but not in his usual posture of lazy scrolling and teasing grins. No phone in his hand. No smirk. Just unconscious stillness, a blanket thrown neatly over him.
Adrian's gut twisted.
Something was off.
He opened his mouth to say something, to ask, but before he could, Yu suddenly appeared in front of him. Swift, efficient, almost like he'd been waiting.
With a natural ease, Yu took Adrian's briefcase and coat, setting them carefully aside. Then, without hesitation, his slender fingers reached up and loosened Adrian's tie, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Yu spoke gently and apologetically as he spoke.
"Sorry dinner's a little behind. Something came up."
Adrian's brow furrowed faintly. His heart jolted at Yu's closeness, the faint scent of fresh soap and cooked food clinging to him. But his words—
"Something came up."
—lodged sharply in Adrian's mind. His gaze flickered to Callen again, then back to Yu.
Something came up.
He swallowed, silently nodding, though unease simmered under his composed surface.
Something came up.
The words rattled in Adrian's head as he glanced again at Callen, passed out with a blanket neatly tucked around him. Callen never covered himself. He never slept that quietly. The faint floral tang of lavender cleanser still hung in the air, sharp enough to cut through the warm smell of dinner. His lawyer's brain ticked over details like puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit.
The loveseat cushions looked too neat. Callen's hair damp, like someone had wiped him down. Yu's faint flush at the cheeks.
Something came up.
Adrian narrowed his eyes slightly, but Yu's practiced rhythm threw him off balance. The tie loosened, smooth and easy, as if Yu had been doing it for years. The moment lingered, Adrian's pulse betraying him as the warmth of Yu's fingers brushed his throat. Too intimate. Too practiced.
The gentleness disarmed him. It always did. Adrian felt the weight of suspicion tightening in his chest, yet the domesticity soothed it, dulled its edge. Yu moving like this—taking his coat, setting aside his briefcase, undoing his tie—it was a ritual now. And God help him, Adrian found he looked forward to it every night.
He hesitated, eyes flicking between Yu and Callen one last time, before forcing a quiet nod.
Adrian answered in a measured, steady voice.
"That's alright. I'll go wash up anyway."
Still, as he turned toward his room, the puzzle lingered in the back of his mind, unspoken.
Why was Callen really passed out? Why did the room smell like cleaner? And why… why did it feel like Yu had slipped deeper into his life than he'd ever allowed anyone before?
Yet when Yu called after him—light, domestic, warm—Adrian felt the tension in his shoulders loosen despite himself.
Yu smiled faintly as he told him.
"Hurry, Adrian. I'll have your plate out first."
And so he washed up, letting the warmth of routine mask the gnawing questions still unanswered.
---
Adrian sat with measured poise, the clink of his spoon against the plate deliberate, quiet. Across from him, Yu moved fluidly between bites and fussing—adjusting Callen's blanket when the blond shifted and mumbled half-asleep, sliding an extra spoonful of stew into Adrian's bowl without asking. It was seamless, practiced.
Adrian's chest ached with a strange mix of gratitude and gnawing unease.
'He takes care of us. He takes care of me.'
The thought should have warmed him, but instead it sharpened into something edged—possessiveness thrumming beneath his calm surface. Watching Yu's delicate hands serve, his soft voice coax Callen to wake long enough to sip water before nestling him back down again, Adrian couldn't help but think.
'This should be mine. Not his. Not Theo's. Not anyone else's.'
Yu, oblivious, only hummed gently as he settled back at the table, smiling faintly at how Callen drooled into the pillow.
Yu murmured fondly under his breath.
"Hopeless… just like when Taro and Kenji used to collapse after running around all day…"
His eyes softened at the memory. Tiny hands tugging at his hair, their sleepy pouts, the way their weight had felt in his arms. The ache of nostalgia caught him off guard, and his hand hovered over his stomach.
Babies.
The thought twisted. Shifted. From raising them… to making them. Heat prickled under his skin, an Incubus spark flaring alive in his chest, in his blood. He swallowed hard, pulse quickening, lips parting as though some hungry instinct might push past his control again.
DK01 delivered a sharp warning inside his head
[Host, concentrate. Your arousal is spiking and at this moment your newly released Incubus nature is too unstable to control such a sharp increase in intense desires.]
Yu blinked, startled, shoving the thought away with a too-quick shake of his head. His cheeks flushed crimson. He dropped his gaze to his bowl, hurriedly shoveling another bite of stew into his mouth to mask it.
Adrian's sharp brown eyes caught it. Every twitch. Every flicker of Yu's expression. His spoon froze midair, fingers tightening imperceptibly.
'What was that? Who was he thinking about?'
The knot in his gut pulled tighter, the simmer of possessiveness drawing darker.
Yu noticed Adrian's intense stare but only smiled faintly, trying to smooth it over. He steadied himself and said softly.
"Eat up before it gets cold."
The room filled with the quiet rhythm of eating—Callen snoring softly on the couch, Yu fussing over details like a mother hen, and Adrian sitting very still, his hunger no longer for the meal in front of him, but for the man tending them both.
---
Dinner wound down with an easy rhythm that didn't quite match the tension coiling under the surface. Yu moved about the table with that same quiet efficiency, gathering up plates, stacking utensils, humming softly under his breath as though all was well.
Adrian hadn't spoken much. He didn't need to. He only watched. Watched the way Yu leaned across the table, the way the sleeve of his loose sweater slipped, baring the pale curve of his wrist as he reached for Callen's abandoned cup. Watched the way his hair fell forward, nearly dipping into the dishes, and how he casually swept it back with a careless little flick.
It was ordinary. It was domestic. And it was unbearable.
When Yu reached for Adrian's plate, Adrian let his fingers brush against Yu's hand. Not an accident. Not fleeting. Just enough to make Yu pause, the porcelain cool between them, and for Adrian to feel the heat of Yu's skin spark up his arm.
Yu glanced at him, lips parting as though to say something, but Adrian only gave a small, composed smile, as if nothing had happened, as if it were nothing more than polite courtesy.
Yu brushed it aside and continued cleaning up. A few minutes later, Yu passed by him to wipe down the table. Adrian's hand rose without thought, caught a stray lock of Yu's long brown hair that had fallen forward. He tucked it behind Yu's ear with slow precision, the brush of his fingers grazing the line of Yu's cheek.
Adrian, quiet and almost tender, told him.
"You'll get soap in it if you let it fall like that."
Yu blinked, startled by the touch, by the softness of it, by the excuse so flimsy and unnecessary. He opened his mouth, searching for a reply, but Adrian had already turned back, calm as ever, his plate neatly stacked with the rest as though nothing at all had transpired.
Yet the air between them told another story. Heavy. Intentional. Faintly charged.
Adrian let it sit there, said nothing more, let the silence stretch—testing, probing, planting something unspoken in the quiet of their little home.
Yu stacked the last dish onto the drying rack, the warm steam still clinging to his fingers, when DK01's voice needled into his head again, dry and clipped.
[Host, this is precisely the problem with indulging beyond your Tragic Target. These… side attachments… will complicate the mission. I can already sense the jealousy in the men around you already climbing. If you are serious about pursuing a harem route, then prepare for exponential instability.]
Yu exhaled through his nose, drying his hands on a towel.
"Yeah, yeah."
He muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes so hard it almost ached.
'Nag, nag, nag. I'm not going to starve myself to death just to keep the mission neat and tidy. Give me some credit, I'm an Incubus King! I think I can handle some human men just fine now.'
[You are only making this harder for yourself.]
DK01 pressed.
Yu mentally flicked the thought aside, already tuning the voice out as he padded into the living room.
Callen was still sprawled across the loveseat, knocked out cold. His golden hair was mussed, his mouth parted, his chest rising in slow, heavy breaths. Yu frowned, tilting his head.
"Now how am I supposed to drag him to his room?"
He wondered aloud, eyeing the length of Callen's body. He was all broad shoulders and long legs.
"He's like… all dead weight."
Before he could sigh and crouch down, Adrian appeared at his side. Quiet as a shadow, suddenly close enough that Yu could feel the faint warmth of him.
Adrian's voice was low and firm as he said.
"Don't bother. He's a grown adult. He can wake up and walk himself."
Yu chuckled, the sound a little wry as he glanced back at him.
"Says the other grown adult I cook and clean for every day like I'm your mother."
That hit something. Adrian flinched. His jaw tightened, a flush coloring the tips of his ears. He seemed to wrestle with the weight of the truth in Yu's words before, almost abruptly, his hand closed around Yu's.
Adrian, earnest and steady, spoke.
"Then I'll do better. I promise."
The sincerity in his tone was like a chord struck too deep. Yu froze, caught off guard by the unguarded gaze turned on him, the warmth of Adrian's hand anchoring his own.
Something uneasy stirred in Yu's chest—something he didn't want to name, didn't want to acknowledge. His teeth caught on his lower lip, biting down lightly, trying to distract himself from the intensity of the moment.
"Y-you don't need to get all serious."
Yu tried to play it off, eyes darting away. But Adrian's hand didn't move. His grip wasn't crushing, wasn't forceful—just steady. Present. Reluctant to let go.
And that quiet, unrelenting presence was somehow far more disarming than Callen's flamboyant flirting or Theo's jealous grip.
Yu's heart gave an uneasy flutter.
Adrian's thumb brushed the ridge of Yu's knuckles, as if memorizing them. His eyes didn't waver, steady as steel. His voice was quiet but unyielding as he said.
"I mean it, Yu. I'll do better. I'll… take care of you. You won't have to do everything alone."
The words hung heavy, too heavy, their weight far more intimate than his tone had any right to be. A promise, yes—but also something sharper. A claim.
Yu's stomach twisted. His heart thumped faster than it should have. His instincts screamed at him to push into the touch.
"Adrian…"
Yu's voice cracked, unsteady. He tugged at his hand but Adrian's fingers lingered just a heartbeat longer before finally releasing him.
The air felt thick, suffocating.
Yu hurried and flustered, stammered out the words.
"I—I'm tired. I should… go rest."
Without waiting for a reply, Yu turned on his heel, practically scurrying up the stairs. His steps were too quick, too frantic, betraying his panic. He didn't stop until he slipped into his room, shutting the door behind him with a thud like he was barricading himself from something far more dangerous than the world outside.
In the living room, Adrian stood rooted in place, his hand still tingling from the warmth of Yu's. His gaze flicked to Callen, half-sprawled and oblivious on the loveseat, and something unreadable crossed his face.
---
Yu leaned against the other side of his bedroom door, breath shallow, heart racing. He pressed his palms flat to the wood, as if holding it shut, protecting himself from something he wasn't ready to face.
Yu slumped against his closed door, his forehead pressed to the cool wood. His chest rose and fell in shallow waves, but it wasn't from the run across the living room.
Yu wondered why that promise sounded so familiar, so dangerously familiar, as if he'd heard it in another lifetime.
'Why does that promise sound so familiar… so dangerous?'
And then it struck him—Taichi.
Another life, another promise. After months of distance, of bitter silences and neglect, Taichi had once whispered the same thing.
"I'll do better, Yu. I'll take care of you. I'm so sorry."
Yu squeezed his eyes shut, trying to picture Taichi's face as he had been then—caramel skin, midnight black hair, the warmth in his green eyes when he gazed softly at him. But the image warped like a film being censored in a foreign country and photos with the faces scratched out. His features blurred, smudged black, censored by something cruel and merciless.
Yu's breath caught. He tried again, harder, reaching into the recesses of his memory. A smile, a hand brushing his cheek, the sound of his name said with love—Yu. But even the sound was muffled, faint, like it was slipping into static.
The name itself—Taichi—tasted hollow on his tongue, as if he were chewing ash.
Yu's stomach lurched. He pressed a hand against it, nausea curling through him. His heart ached—not from longing, but from the sheer absence. No face. No warmth. No trace.
Yu's voice came out in a hoarse whisper as he asked.
"What's happening to me?"
DK01's interface flickered into his mind's eye, its tone clinical but edged with something like unease.
[The lock is functioning as intended. Recall tethering to Taichi has been removed to protect mission integrity. The side effect is memory degradation. If you push harder, you will find nothing but blacked out sensations. This is for your own good, Host.]
Yu bit his lip until it hurt, shaking his head violently. His protest rose sharply.
'No, I can't even— I can't even see him anymore…'
DK01's voice came through flat and final.
[Accept and proceed. The mission requires stability, not mourning shadows.]
Yu curled into himself on the edge of his bed, sickened and hollow, the ghost of a love he could no longer fully recall clawing at him from the inside.
---
In the living room, silence pressed down. Adrian remained where Yu had left him, eyes narrowed, jaw tight. The faint sound of Callen's light snoring filled the space, but it only made the room feel emptier.
Adrian finally moved, slow and deliberate, retreating to his own room. He closed the door with barely a sound, then crossed to his desk. His laptop glowed in the dim light, screen alive with tabs already open. He clicked through them with mechanical precision until he landed on one in particular:
The live feed from the living room security cameras.
There, framed in cold black-and-white, was Callen sprawled unconscious on the loveseat—unaware of being watched. Adrian leaned closer to the screen, his face unreadable, shadows carving his features into something hard, something possessive.