The safe house was freezing, but the air between them was straight-up lava. After the fire, after the narrow escape, and after the brutal news that Daisetsu was now the most wanted man in the district, there was no room left for shy glances or stuttering words. The facade was gone. The Stoic Protector was now a Violent Fugitive, and his Cutie Boy was the only person left in his corner.
Yasuo sat on the edge of the small, creaky bed, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He looked at Daisetsu, who was standing by the door, checking the locks for the tenth time. Even in the dim light of a single flickering bulb, Daisetsu looked savage. His back was a map of scars and tension, his muscles rippling under skin that was still smudged with the soot of their burnt dreams.
"They're gonna come for us, aren't they?" Yasuo whispered, his voice cracking.
Daisetsu turned around. His eyes weren't the eyes of a teacher anymore. They were dark, hungry, and metallic with a protective rage. He walked over, his heavy boots thumping on the floorboards, and grabbed Yasuo's jaw, forcing him to look up, and he doing soft touch or fingering around Yasuo's ears to melt him down.
"Let them come," Daisetsu rumbled, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp. "But before they do... I need to make sure you remember exactly who you belong to."
The physical touch snapped like a high-tension wire.
Daisetsu didn't just kiss him; he devoured him. It was a passionate collision that tasted like salt and desperation. He shoved Yasuo back onto the mattress, the old springs groaning under their weight. Daisetsu's muscular chest pressed down on Yasuo, pinning him into the sheets. He was possessive, his hands bruising Yasuo's hips as he ripped away the baker's shirt, desperate to feel skin on skin.
"Daisetsu... please," Yasuo gasped, his shy shell completely melting away. He reached up, his fingers digging into the "Wounded Soul's" thick hair, pulling him closer.
This was the physical payoff they had been building to this far. Daisetsu stripped off his own scorched trousers, revealing his hard, muscular body in all its savage glory. He didn't use any of the gentle care he used at the bakery. This was raw. This was extreme. He wanted to drown out the sound of the sirens with the sound of Yasuo's voice.
He entered Yasuo with a heavy, rhythmic force that made the baker's breath hitch and his eyes roll back. Every thrust was a claim, a territorial promise whispered into the dark. Yasuo's legs were hiked up over Daisetsu's broad shoulders, his heels digging into the man's lower back as he arched his body to meet every deep, frantic movement.
The heat in the room was suffocating, a savage heat that had nothing to do with the fire outside. Daisetsu leaned down, his teeth grazing Yasuo's shoulder before he bit down on his neck, leaving a "dark, purple mark" right where everyone would see it.
"Say my name," Daisetsu groaned, his thrusts becoming faster, more savage. "Say it like you're never letting me go."
"Daisetsu! Daisetsu!" Yasuo cried out, his voice raw. He was blushing fiercely, his skin slick with sweat as the climax began to build like a tidal wave.
The room seemed to explode when they hit the peak together. Yasuo's body went rigid, his fingers clawing at the scars on Daisetsu's back, while the Iron-Fist shuddered, pouring every ounce of his anger and love into the boy who was his only home. They lay there for a long time, the only sound the ragged breathing of two souls who had survived a war.
But the peace didn't last. A vibration on the floor made them both freeze. Yasuo's phone, which had fallen during the heat of the moment, was glowing.
It was a text from an unknown number.
I see you through the window, Yasuo. The fire was just the appetizer. Ready for the main course? - K.
Yasuo looked at the window. The curtain was slightly open. Across the street, a dark car was idling, its headlights off.
"She found us," Yasuo whispered, his face turning pale. "Kaede is here."
Daisetsu stood up, his "Stoic Protector" energy returning in an instant. He grabbed a heavy metal pipe from the corner of the room, his eyes turning cold. "She didn't just find us, Yasuo. She brought company."
Four more cars turned the corner, boxing in the safe house. The Superintendent's executioners had arrived.