Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yoru pretended to be arrogant and even aloof at times, but he acknowledged the importance of his teammates - without them, he’d be dead out there on the field, and without him, they’d be in a lot of trouble. So he paid attention to the little things about the team, both on and off the field. Cypher’s annoyance at his disappearances, both on camera and in person. The way Jett would tense her stance before leaping into the air and shooting a man in the head. Killjoy’s inane pleasure at him acknowledging her bot. Phoenix’s gleeful smiles when Yoru let him plan their combat engagement and it succeeded (thought not without his intercession - the man was more flashy than brilliant). Sage’s reaction to "Sky Children"’s OVA release date (he slid an extra ticket onto her desk a day later - he wasn’t about to see it alone).

All of this took time to observe and build up valuable rapport so Yoru could feel nearly included over the weeks he integrated himself into the Valorant Protocol headquarters. It was day in, day out of wake-up calls, training at a floating range, shooting contests with the other gun duelists, fighting Breach for the shower after combat missions, and surreptitiously decorating Skye’s room with flowers again and again as “thank-yous” for showing him the ropes (she was really starting to hate him).

Astra’s arrival moved him from Newbie to Newbie #2: Introduce the Recruit to all the stuff or Viper might actually bite his head off. Then KAYO arrived and removed him completely from newbie status. The robot was weird as all hell. It had an incredibly functioning AI and was created by a different Killjoy, but it lacked manners, and that got on Yoru’s nerves, so he avoided it. But also? Talking weird robot that Brimstone looked at while trying not to cry? Weird. Whatever. Maybe he thought it was his son like Killjoy was his metaphorical daughter or something. Not his problem. Astra had to handle the new newbie and he had to handle pretending he didn’t see the weird looks Killjoy, Brimstone, and KAYO all shared.

Then the problem arrived.

Yoru noticed Brimstone’s reluctance as he introduced the Valorant Protocol to agent Chamber. The veteran had crinkled his eyes in a way that did not suggest friendliness and reminded him of the time Phoenix and Jett had set the kitchen on fire - the American seemed like he did not want to be there, be a witness, or anywhere near the situation. He had mentioned on their comms earlier that codename “Deadeye” would be arriving at base soon, but the Japanese hadn’t given it much thought, seeing that he was trying to avoid dying at his counterpart’s hands in the middle of Bind. After they had cleared the site, defused the spike, and packed it up into the VLT/R, he noticed the slight strain in their commander’s neck as he craned his head to watch their arrival at headquarters.

“Good evening, distinguished guests,” Chamber had said before bowing slightly at the waist. “I will be at your service. Let us get along.”

Chamber, their French weapons designer on loan. Chamber, the key to unlocking the path to Earth-2. Chamber, the teleporting site sentinel. Chamber, the most annoying new team member yet. Nothing he did inclined Yoru to like the man, and it didn’t help Yoru already was a loner who tried to work on his own when without a directive. Nor did it help this man also had teleportation technology - it irked him to no end that someone else besides the damn ghost could move instantaneously.

No, he was more than bothered. He was annoyed.

Not even Breach annoyed him this much, and that man blew concussed him in the range multiple times a week.

It wasn’t just Yoru. Cypher was upset due to the lack or information he could dig up on Chamber. Viper was upset because she disagreed with him on almost anything. Brimstone, their group leader, was upset, for reasons none of the younger recruits were privy to. Even Sage seemed mildly annoyed with Chamber out of combat (during battle, she was nothing if calm). And they still had to cooperate with the smug asshole, as beings beyond Yoru’s paygrade deemed it important that this man and his information were added to their team.

So be it. Yoru could cooperate on the field with him and ignore him outside of missions. It could be a challenge for himself, he supposed. Except Chamber barely used his assigned personnel room at the headquarters. Chamber didn’t eat with them, even after combat missions. Chamber had hobbies that involved sequestering himself in his room or off-base. Chamber was so goddamn easy to avoid when he wanted to make himself scarce.

And during the times Chamber deemed to bring his presence about headquarters, Yoru could barely avoid him. Chamber would be waiting for Yoru to finish showering so he was the first person he saw as he slammed the door open, towel around his waist because he forgot his pants again. Chamber grabbed the coffee pot just as Yoru had tossed back a questionable number of espresso shots no matter how much he varied the time he entered the kitchen in the morning. He always made eye contact, as if the Frenchman had some agenda involving staring deep into Yoru’s eyes before he teleported out of the kitchen and away from his problems.

Even during practice Yoru could not escape the specter of Chamber. He had gorgeous guns that shot well, looked good, and sounded better than their standard VP weaponry. Chamber had a shot as good as his own (definitely not better, the only one who could be better than himself was KAY/O, the weird freaking robot).

Chamber was everywhere and nowhere. Chamber was annoying and bothering and it made him so hot with rage he could barely stop from seething when they rode next to each other in the VLT/R transports.

It was about three weeks into this nonsense that Yoru lost his mind just a little. He had been talking to Sage about "Sky Children"’s “Elemental Redux” arc when Chamber walked into the kitchen. He grabbed coffee from the pot Jett had made earlier (at 2000 hours) and quietly sat down beside Sage in the middle of Yoru’s tirade on the show’s character Cricket’s poorly designed house. The gleam in the Frenchman’s eyes as he listened made him pause just as he was about to confirm that yes, Cricket was probably homosexual, but it wasn’t really necessary to paint his entire bedroom in bright rainbow. He couldn’t bring himself to start his next sentence, which may or may not have been about the sexual revolution of Japan and its over-stereotyping of its populace.

“Yoru? You stopped talking,” Sage tried to check on him, not realizing that Chamber was right there. The bane of his existence was looking at him like a sly cat watched a mouse when it was full and planning its next meal, and she thought he could keep talking about homosexual imagery in Japanese media? Pathetic.

“Yes, it seems I forgot what I was talking about,” Yoru deadpanned. Sage furrowed her brow and tried to bring up his previous point only for Chamber to cut in for her.

“You mentioned the socioeconomic state of Cricket’s house and the color of something, but did not mention the something else.”

“I was going to ask about Sage how much she knew about the LGBT+ legislature of Japan but someone sat in on a conversation he was not a part of,” Yoru cooly replied.

“I keep up with the show,” Chamber stated. “My favorite character is Katy.”

Yoru spat incredulously. “You watch "Sky Children"?!”

“Oui. Is quite a good show. A little pandering, like you mentioned, but the story itself has its merits.”

“Then what about Sting’s redemption arc?” Yoru asked, redirecting his anger from the Japanese media conglomerates to the man who faced him now. Sage realized Yoru was no longer going to talk about Cricket or any other interesting anecdotes about his character and finished her mug.

“Is it redemption if all you do is go from killing objectively bad people to morally grey creatures?”

Yoru huffed and sat up in his chair. “Of course not. It’s called that officially but it does nothing to redeem him for his actual crime of killing Silas’ father.” He realized Sage had left the room about now. “You know what, Chamber? Let’s take this somewhere else,” Yoru growled.

“Agreed. Shall we talk more in my room? I would hate to prevent others from using the kitchen in fear of interrupting our riveting conversation.”

“Come, come.”

He got up from the table, pushed his chair under it, and motioned for Yoru to follow him down the hallway. During their short stint down the hall, Yoru counted no less than 4 others (Skye, Breach, Jett, and Phoenix) playing what appeared to be beer pong in the recreation room with a staggering amount of Welch’s Concord Grape Juice scattered around them. The ping pong table sat sadly in the middle of a women versus men’s match as Astra watched. He longed to sit on the opposite couch, pretending to ignore the revelry while making quiet conversation with Astra about it. Instead, he had chosen to make this evening about privately dealin with Chamber and his issues with him.

So many doors lined the hall across from the communal areas - agents enlisted, with room for more to come. After pacing past their leads’ rooms and his own, Yoru realized that perhaps this was a waste of his evening - discussing "Sky Children" and making his problems with Chamber apparent. It was petty; it was almost childish.

They finally arrived and stood in the doorway of Chamber’s room, where Yoru began to regret his choices in coming here. This man had transformed a gray Spartan standard set up into a lush paradise of whites and creams. He hated it. The desk was light and modern and sleek and covered in what were probably neatly organized design plans. The floor held a shoe rack (of course he had designer sneakers) and a luscious white rug.

(Yoru definitely had not turned his room blue and black out of spite or from a long held-over teenage emo phase nor had he done it because his entire color scheme was blue and black. He just happened to carry over a lot of rift with him, that was all.)

“It’s quite nice, ou non? I brought a little bit of home here with me.” They stepped into the room, door closing behind them. “It sure is,” he bitingly replied. Yoru remembered he came here to argue with stupid Chamber about something. His mind fluctuated between thoughts as he tried to process what was happening to him. He hated Chamber. He didn’t remember why anymore, amidst the organized sea of white that was room 18. It drowned out a lot of his brain’s previous thoughts, including “Cricket was sensationalized as a pandering hero” and “I have personal problems with Chamber”.

“Must you study my room some more, or shall we fuck?” Chamber’s voice snapped him out of his staring.

“What?” Yoru blinked hard. “What did you just say?” He turned his head to look at him, poised as perfectly as possible. He hated it, he thought. The perfect posture, the way he held his shoulders back as if he had nothing to hide and everything to give.

“I asked if you want to partake in sexual intercourse.”

“I thought we came here to discuss,” Yoru scrambled for his mental path to this room. “"Sky Children". I thought your opinions were wrong and you said we shouldn’t take up the kitchen for that.”

Chamber locked eyes with Yoru. Were he a teenager still, he might have squirmed under his gaze. “I have seen you looking at me. Hunger, I thought. You are, what is the word, you are… attractive? Devious? I thought you were too shy so I brought you here to open up. Again, shall we fuck, or is "Sky Children" part of your extended foreplay?”

“I no longer do men.” Yoru’s cheeks heated up. His mouth felt drier than usual. Chamber smiled warmly in response to his blush. “Ah, so you have had bad experience. Would you be so kind as to let me show you some things then?”

Yoru hated Chamber, especially in this infuriating moment. He was angered by his confidence, the tilt of his head as he asked a question, poised for an answer. His face was hot and if Chamber got any closer he would rip his clothes - Oh, that’s how it was.

The things his body had been telling him made sense all at once.

The realization washed over him like chilled water, but it did nothing to cool his blood broiling in his body. He could figure out the angry part later. Maybe even kiss it out of his stupid annoying (handsome) face. For now, he had an opportunity and he was going to take it. He hesitated as he processed the revelation before stepping closer, a silent invitation. He was swept into the same space Chamber’s body occupied, a firm arm pressing him into Chamber’s chest.

“Say the word and I will stop, mon loup (a).” A nod from him and suddenly, his lips were captured into a hungry kiss. Yoru had no complaints about the kiss or the sudden lack of space around him. The tenderness of being held, the movement of lips against his own, the tongue - no complaints at all. Everything was warm and all of a sudden, he felt like he needed Chamber now. He let his hands wander, pulling at the edge of Chamber’s suit. There was skin under there and it had to be out. He couldn’t get the buttons undone while being pressed this close, but as he tried to pull back to undo it, he felt Chamber lift him up and place him on the bed.

“Shirt off,” the Frenchman ordered as he started pulling off his suit. Clothes were scattered on the floor as fast as humanly possible - shoes cast off, followed by a tie and vest come undone, dress shirt tumbling to the ground, mingled with Yoru’s jacket. As he slid out of his t-shirt, his mind experienced a moment of sober thought - would his scars scare Chamber off? He didn’t think anyone but Sage would know of his physical status, but now he was filled with fear.

Chamber did not seem to notice nor care about Yoru’s chest, instead choosing to lean over and put his arms on either side of where he was seated on the bed. Positioned over Yoru, Chamber lowered himself to kiss him again, and relief washed over Yoru as the last of his coherent thoughts left his head. Chamber took his time, lavishing each bit of his exposed skin, but Yoru was impatient for more. He growled and pushed his hips up, grinded himself against Chamber. He felt up the other’s legs and tried to pry his stupid fancy belt off, but Chamber stopped his hands.

“Patience, mon amour (b),” he said and stepped back. His sudden absence of heat as he got off Yoru made him want to whine, but it was quickly replaced by the sensation of his pants being shrugged off and tossed away. Soft, light touches dusted his underwear, and he swore Chamber was grinning like a cat as he slowly teased off his briefs. “I’m going to kill you,” Yoru panted out. “Get on with whatever nonsense you are about.”

There was a moment of panic he would never admit to as his briefs came off and he thought about the fact he did not warn Chamber about his bottom parts (the same voice in his head whispered liar deceiver you’ll never be a man).

No matter how much time he spent in the Rift, he could not make it mold him the way he wanted it to. His voice could change, his height could be stretched and body proportions manipulated, but something as drastic as his sex organs he had yet to figure out if it was even possible. He looked into the void and it looked straight back, and here he was, vulnerable, delicate, exposed on display, at a pivotal point of gender and identity. Shame and fear threatened to swallow him whole, and again, Chamber’s smooth voice quieted the panic in his head.

“Is it okay if I lick this?”

Yoru was hit with the whiplash of the train of thought abruptly coming to a halt. He was also in the process of losing his mind with impatience. “Yes!” he barked out. “Please,” he added, almost whining.

Yoru hated how he squeaked whenever someone went down on him, but his high-pitched exclamations only egged Chamber on. He felt hands cup his butt and pull him closer as the tongue delved deeper into him. It was all he could do to gasp and try not to moan as loud as physically possible - he had no idea how thick the walls were, and he really didn’t need to find out tonight. He had no idea how much time passed as Chamber made it his task to explore every nook and cranny of Yoru’s vagina, but he knew that it was an incredible way to pass time. He never wanted another person to eat him out, he thought. This was on another level. Heat built up inside of him, and he felt himself clench up, demanding presence inside of himself before his vision exploded.

The high of the orgasm left him gasping for air. All Yoru could see was fuzzy colors streaked across the night sky, which he swore hadn’t been there earlier. He blinked away darkness and stars that faded away into the pale ceiling of the room he was in. Yoru remembered where he was and looked down his body.

There was the image of Chamber, kneeling before him at the foot of the bed. Sweaty, nearly breathless, gorgeous Chamber. Yoru felt like a god being worshiped, but he needed more of Chamber. “Come up here,” he tried to speak, but it came out in the wrong language, garbled and weak in his post-orgasm brain.

“いれてほしい (1),” he sputtered out. Chamber had the audacity to laugh, covered in his cum and sweat. “がまんできない, 弱虫 (2),” he tried again, but Chamber got the message regardless and climbed onto the bed. Hed hovered over him for just a moment, and then Yoru was drowning in Chamber. He was all over him, touching him, breathing him in, and he hadn’t even stuck his dick inside of him yet. And just as he thought that, his voice purred from above him, “Ready?” and he could barely nod his affirmation, so sunk into the sea that he was, and then Chamber was everywhere at once.

He found himself tensing up with each thrust and curled his legs around Chamber’s back - this only encouraged him, moving them from the slow movements of the tide into the rapid crashing of the waves. “J'aime quand tu fais ça (c),” Chamber muttered into his neck. He had no fucking clue what the man was saying, and yet it turned him on even more. The room, the stupid decorations, all of it could stuff themselves for all he could care. He was in heaven, ascending beyond, or perhaps the idol on the altar.

Yoru found himself biting down on Chamber’s shoulder, unable to let himself scream as he came again, followed by the slowing of Chamber’s hips until they thrust one final time before the man collapsed into him, panting.

They lay there, two quivering lovers beyond words before Chamber rolled off and quietly got up to clean them up. Yoru was so worn out he could barely move, even as he felt a gentle warm cloth clean the juices off of him. Darkness overtook his vision, and Yoru knocked out before Chamber could even pull the blanket over them.

The bed beneath his face was soft, and the comforter thick and puffy and warm. With his eyes still closed, Yoru knew he had shifted from the world of dreams to waking life because he could feel the rift calling in his body. Low, pulsating music played from the speaker on the nightstand, reminding him he was not in his own room. The bed next to him was empty but nearly warm, as if its other occupant had just left. Chamber had probably gotten up before him, and if he had woken up around the time his alarm usually did, it was 0730 hours and he needed to get up and dress. He shifted to throw the blanket off and froze as he sat up, realizing he was naked.

Ah. That had happened. It had taken him all of opening his eyes, feeling a thinner blanket, and finding his clothes missing to realize that he had slept with Chamber. Last night.

Yoru peered around the room and yes, he was still irked by how much the man differed from himself, but it was from a quieter place in his head. The fuck had helped in some regard, but the personal differences - he would figure that out later.

He had slept with a team member. which was not explicitly disallowed but was probably frowned upon. Brimstone had tried to speak about some non-fraternization clause before everyone had found Jett and Sage making out in the kitchen, so maybe having the second-in-command break it made the whole point moot.

Amidst his naked musings, Chamber returned to the room, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. His suit was thrown over the chair, and he had a tie set on his desk.

“You are up. Did my music wake you?”

He shook his head. Chamber stepped up next to him and offered him his clothes from yesterday. “They are not clean, my apologies, but you should be able to go next door and get new ones. Not many people are up yet still.”

“Being kicked out this early? I was expecting morning cuddles,” Yoru responded sarcastically. He threw on his clothes quickly, brushed his hair out of his face so it wasn’t blocking his eyes, and left without looking back.

He went about his day like normal, eating a quiet breakfast before training with Sage and Jett in the morning, sparring with Skye after lunch, and stopping Phoenix from burning the kitchen down before dinner could start. Cypher and Breach returned from a mission, loudly bickering down the hallway from the carrier. Omen creeped around the common room before perching himself on the plastic garden chair that might have been requisitioned from the greenhouse (Yoru did not know nor care, but if Skye hadn’t said anything then it was probably fine). Yoru slipped into spaces, ate food, and avoided Chamber like the plague. It was, all in all, an average day at the headquarters.

And then he found himself before Chamber’s door a few hours after dinner, knuckle raised and ready to hit the wood in front of him. He had showered - his hair was flat against his head instead of stuck up with all the product he put on in the morning. He felt self-conscious, wondering if this could happen more than once. Maybe it was a one-time thing, to fuck a fellow employee in a moment of loose morals and fantasy-fulfillment. Maybe he was a one-night stand and this was all for naught. All the same, he had been pulled here by something in his gut that coiled inside and threated to swallow him whole. He swallowed, breathed in, and prepared to knock.

Chamber opened the door before he could even make contact with the wood and beckoned for Yoru to enter, and he sealed his fate by following him in.

It felt as if nothing had changed on the field for Yoru. It still peeved him that Chamber teleported around the fields they held down and that his shot was so good and that his guns were so damn flashy. But he didn’t let it get to him in combat - his team’s lives were at stake. There was no room for rivalry between teammates on the field. Off of it, there was plenty of petty growling on the VLT/R and jostling in the hallways and fights over the coffee machine. Yoru had some reputation to hold up, after all.

He did find himself waking up on soft white sheets more often. And snapping at Chamber less in the common spaces. If anything, he would just drag him to the practice range and duel until he got his fury out or they ended up in bed again. Chamber found a stupid amount of trinkets and flowers on his desk and said nothing about it. Brimstone was still on edge around Chamber, but Yoru had little complaints about the man. Even if he held secrets, he fucked very well, and that was good enough for him. He didn’t have time for games played by people who thought they had time for it - he was here to save the world then go home.

After a few nights spent with Chamber, Yoru was pretty sure Astra had seen him do the walk of shame at least once, but she had the peace of mind to not mention it at all. Brimstone and Viper didn’t seem to care at least, and whatever Cypher saw on his creepy cameras Yoru would choose to ignore.

Sage, however, had taken him on a walk after breakfast one cold Saturday morning and made a point to mention all the places she could conveniently push a Frenchman off the Range and make it seem like an accident. She had also pointed out some of the better spots to hide if he was looking for a quick fuck or a make-out session, and he tried to not think about Jett and Sage going down on each other in the rafters of the training grounds.

It was good to have someone who would willingly kill a teammate for you, at least, but he did not need that much detail about how much other people fucked in the Range.

Chapter Text

Chamber was great. Chamber was amazing in bed. He was really good at also pretending there was nothing different happening between them. Bickering before gunfights, complimenting Yoru so he had something to dismiss in public, purposefully antagonizing him on and off matches, he was good as gold. They had competitive and maybe petty rivals down pat.

There were, however, stupider things happening in Yoru’s life. Yoru wanted to spend time alone, or if at least not alone, watching anime in bed. Sometimes Chamber would let him do that on his nice bed while he tinkered and modified his guns. Occasionally, the bed would transform from an anime-watching comfort zone into a warm tent of carnal pleasure without much protest from its occupant.

Seldomtimes, the French designer would come up with ideas Yoru could not say no to that didn’t involve sex. He specifically insisted on spending an entire weekend adding a private channel between their earpieces.

“You have my phone number. You don’t need to do this,” Yoru had tried to complain, but Chamber had given him the look of a man on a horny mission and he handed over his earpiece before settling himself to grumble on the stupid fancy bed. Then he found out it was in order to communicate to Yoru on the battlefield in stupid French terms he taught him in bed, and he almost lost his composure on the battlefield.

The moment the earpiece crackled to life for the first time on Bind, he was hidden near the teleporter entrance to A site from B site. “Yoru, if you out-mark me today, tu peux me prendre dans tout les sens (a).”

Chamber had been swapped in for Cypher in their new defense rotation, claiming Cypher’s services were “needed elsewhere” (Bullshit. Everyone knew they underperformed on their home turf, and the creep was no exception.) The duelist in him didn’t care - both sentinels held down the site well and gave him information on where the enemies were, and that was what mattered.

Yoru had his back to the wall next to some planters, and he could hear footsteps in the sand near him, but the sudden voice had nearly caused him to yelp and give his position away.

“Chamber I’m trying to push the enemy Phoenix right now,” Yoru whispered, mouth tucked into his jacket. “I have the surprise for now.”

“My gamble still stands.”

Yoru hemmed and hawed, considered the consequences of letting himself run in foolishly. With the new warp gates they had installed, none of their deaths meant anything here, and he was sure their Earth-2 clones had done the same - the same Viper kept gutting him with an Ares model machine gun and the vitriol in her eyes only increased each time. He had fought the same Yoru over and over again, that was for sure. The rift signatures coming off the man was the same every time when it should have differed if each one was a Yoru from a new reality.

Turning war into a game had been so easy, and it should have sickened him.

Instead, Yoru whipped around the corner, company-issued Phantom aimed for the head. And there Phoenix-2 was, fire flashing, guns ablaze, ready to duel Yoru. The set up was so simple, so repetitive, and so effective every time. Launch anchor point, duck, throw rift fragment, teleport, shoot in the back.

It was the first kill of many that day. He definitely lost count after 14 confirmed kills, but he knew he died far less that day. A man emboldened by the infinitely possible warfare of defending his home turf, Earth-1. And also, a lover spurned on by something idiotic in his heart (Was it spite? Competition? An unsaid dick-measuring contest?) The maneuvers he pulled off wouldn’t have worked anywhere else - anywhere that didn’t have Kingdom Industries teleporters with his DNA synced to them.

Eventually, the invaders retreated, some radianite hauled, but most of it remaining on the site. He stood halfway into the remainders of Omen’s smoky cover and looked back at their retreating forms. His bones felt like they should ache, like every reverberation of gun fire should be embedded into them, but he respawned with fresh muscles and fresh skin every time. The ghosts of bullets past were in his chest, his arms, his legs, and they whispered of wars long past and future fights he would be in, again and again.

War never changes, something Brimstone would probably say to that. Either way, the match ended, they all were left shaken and tired to return another day, but at least they weren’t carrying their teammates back in bodybags. Phantom pains were a small price to pay for that.

Yoru checked the ‘score’ feed on his way out - a petty system set up by Viper and Cypher so Jett could stop complaining that ‘Phoenix was not actually out-shooting her, he just had a loud mouth’. Yoru barely outshot Chamber, a solid 25 hovering over Chamber’s 22. He smiled to himself briefly before dropping his face into his usual scowl and jogging over to their waiting ride.

On the VLT/R back, he had to restrain himself from fidgeting, thinking of what treat awaited him in Chamber’s bed. Skye noticed the strained look in his eye and teased him about being anxious to get home to something or someone (he had plausible deniability, he teleported to Chamber’s room now). Chamber had this stupid smirk on his face the whole ride back, something between pride and smugness. Yoru ignored him; he would be spending the rest of the day getting his sweet desserts in bed after claiming he was tuckered out from carrying his sorry team on his back in Morocco. He wasn’t sure if the so-called competition was just another excuse to get ravished by Chamber or if he had actually changed the outcome of their evening, but it felt good to win a competition and take a pretty boy to bed.

Thankfully, Chamber did not abuse the lines. It was always a down moment for them both, never amidst gunfights. Still, Yoru couldn’t help but feel the itchy tightness blooming in his chest that he ignored time and time again.

Bind again, unfavorably warm on this dread autumn day. Yoru was sweating through his jacket (not that he’d ever admit it was too warm) when the private line turned on again. “J'ai vraiment envie de toi (b).”

“I appreciate the sentiment but I am trying not to die at your counterpart’s hands,” he hissed. He had moved through the corridor leading out to the B site, awaiting any noise from the teleporter indicating support for the person who had shot at him earlier. He heard the doors open, something move through, and he ran to get himself in position to shoot the poor sap’s head off. He watched through the scope of his Phantom Sage-2 walk out before getting hit with a trademark slow trap and falling over with a clean shot from what could only be Chamber’s Headhunter.

“Already dealt with, mon loup (c).”

Yoru turned towards the garden area and noticed a Chamber-2 corpse lying face down on the ground. He was so close to spitting out of spite. “I hate you.”

“See you tonight, Yoru,” Chamber replied silkily before closing the connection. Yoru stared off into the distance and contemplated whether it would be counted against their team as sabotage if he went and strangled Chamber.

And on top of the inane nonsense on the job, Yoru also had idiotic teammates that he wasn’t half-entangled with as well.

He and Jett got along, respectably. He stayed away from the labs, and he was in the clear with their tech-based agents. He and Sage watched “Sky Children“ together in her room every Friday evening like clockwork. He lost to Breach every time they tried to physically spar, but he got a hell of a workout from it. It was a decent life at the base, a machine with oiled gears, but sometimes they caught on each other and stumbled the progress.

The most recent incident involved Phoenix and kitchen. Yoru had only dropped by to grab his shaker to make cocktails in the lounge with Breach, and there he was covered head to toe in what was supposed to be a key-lime pie. Just as the riftwalker had entered the kitchen, Phoenix had tripped and dumped the entirety of a pie-tin on him in a fantastic display of utter incompetence. His head and shoulders were speckled with whipped cream, his jacket would take hours to clean, and his shoes were soaked with dairy.

“What. The fuck. Is this.” The riftwalker was seething. Yoru felt his lips pull back as he tried to snarl with his sharp canines out, summoning the image of his ancestors as he turned on the poor Brit.

“Sorry bruv, I really didn’t mean it. Here let me-” Phoenix reached out to wipe something off of Yoru’s arm but the man was pissed and stepped out of the way.

“Do not touch me,” Yoru nearly growled. He could really feel it, the anger ticking inside of him as he tried to not start a fight while covered in sugar and cream. It would make more of a mess. It would probably ruin his clothes further. Brimstone would probably dock a little more than pay if he killed a teammate in the kitchen over pie. He felt his self-control waning as the pent-up frustrations him bubbled to the surface. Phoenix was constantly on his nerves too, acting all hero-like and mighty and what not. What an idiot.

Chamber tracked into the kitchen just as Yoru was about to grab and shake the life out of the man. The Japanese man was none too pleased when Chamber arrived to drag him out of the kitchen after getting bombarded by Phoenix’s latest attempt to bake without supervision, but Chamber managed to halt the commotion with a “There you are, Yoru! Breach and I were worried.”

“Worried my ass,” Yoru muttered under his breath, but stopped in his tracks and turned to face him. “This idiot’s gone and ‘bloody ruined’ my clothes,” he air-quoted Phoenix.

This started Phoenix up again, sputtering “Whoa whoa whoa, man, I did not mean it, I’m sorry just let me help you-”

“I think Yoru here may not appreciate your help, Monsieur Phoenix. I can take him back to his room, if that is all and well.” Chamber grabbed Yoru by the elbow and started pulling him out of the kitchen. “In the meanwhile, you may have to clean the floor before remaking that pie.”

It was the longest and most tense walk back to his room he had ever been on. Chamber didn’t say anything, probably reading that Yoru was a little more than pissed by how close his hands were to Phoenix’s vital points, and Yoru was seething in silence. His elbow was clamped in Chamber’s tight grasp, and the fingers that usually gave him delight and pleasure only now served as a strong clamp hauling him away from a fight.

It felt like he was back in Tokyo, in memories he wanted to not remember while at the Protocol.

Before he knew it, his door was in front of him. He lifted up his hand and placed his palm on the reader. Every second of the scan until the light turned green felt like an eternity - his soaked clothes, Chamber’s iron grip on his elbow, the heat inside his chest threatening to burst.

And just like that, the door slid open. The lights turned on, revealing the embarrassing mess of his room and the splotches of rift marks he left on the walls, on the furniture, on the ceiling. Yoru realized that he had never shown his room to anyone else before, not even Sage. Chamber looked around and said nothing about it, not even about the fist-shaped blotches of blue on the walls.

“Let me get that off you,” he prompted as he dragged Yoru into the room. Yoru pulled his jacket off and tried to scrape as much cream off of it as possible into his measly garbage can before Chamber grabbed the jacket from him.

"I will clean this and be back. You may need to hand wash your shoes.” Every movement was so intentional, from the way he swept his arms over Yoru’s to grab the jacket carefully and swing it around so it didn’t further dirty his clothes. He stepped towards the door, arms extended out so the jacket carefully swung without hitting anything, and paused to look at Yoru again.

“I also wanted to talk, after you get changed.”

Yoru barely had enough time to freeze at the word "talk" before the man was gone. Instead, he groaned and pulled off his soaked clothes and hung them over the side of his laundry basket. Dastard man and his dizzying countenance, he’d be damned if he let his suave ways get to his head.

He pulled on a new pair of pants, skinny jeans that hugged his legs less than one might have guessed, and a white t-shirt hanging closest to the front of the closet. Easy, done. He just needed to scrub his shoes, which he spent the better part of 20 minutes doing.

Yoru tried to focus on the scrubbing motions and inspecting his shoes and not thinking about what a talk might entail, but he failed. His head swelled with bad memories that he tamped down with worries of what Chamber might have to say instead. He pushed down the feeling of his chest tightening whenever Chamber's voice came through the line into his ear or the way his heart twinged whenever he saw him come off the field injured. He put a hoodie on over his t-shirt, self-conscious of his shoulders and their breadth. He was a man. He was worth the attention. He was Yoru, night, stealth, and shadow.

He ended up with a pair of fresh sneakers on his shoe shelf and seated himself on the bed, anxiously waiting.

Upon his return, Chamber handed Yoru the jacket, damp and rid of its sugary stains. "You are welcome. Can we talk now, or are you still sour from Phoenix's assault?"

"Sure," Yoru croaked out. This was it. Chamber was going to tell him he was done or disgusted with him or ask him why he pretended he was a guy or something equally earth-shattering and then he'd really have to fake his death again and leave or something. 2 months of happiness could disappear all right now.

"I have been meaning to ask you about this for a while, so do not feel like this was a spur of the moment thing.” Great. Terrible start. Yoru wanted to melt his bed that he was seated on and become one with the comforter. Better live life as a cotton blanket than hear Chamber had been harboring this for a while.

“I feel I have not been treating you right. For all the coupling we have done, we know very little about each other. Why, we haven't even gone out to dinner yet!" Chamber stepped in front of the bed and placed his hand on Yoru’s shoulder. "So, would you do me the favor of joining me for dinner at 8pm this Thursday? We can leave from the base at 7pm. My treat."

Yoru's eyes widened. This was one of the last scenarios he would have imagined - Chamber always seemed an even mix of amicable and pleasant, to the point where Yoru could barely tell if the man was ever miffed at all, but here he was, being asked out on a date instead of turned away after stumbling into his bed for weeks on end.

Yoru was speechless, so all he could do was nod. His hands were clenched around his knees, holding onto the only thing he could feel as his brain reanalyzed every situation he had ever been in with Chamber. Did the man actually return his feelings?

There was really only one way to find out.

Chapter Text

Yoru’s closet was more expansive than he wanted yet didn’t have what he particularly wanted right now nor did it offer answers to solving his conundrum. He pushed his shirts over to the right, revealing his formalwear to the light of his room. He felt the sleeve of his suit jacket and wondered if he should wear his only suit and worm his way into his only matching shirt, narrow enough that barely fit his chest, or did he wear a long sleeve button-up with slacks and nice shoes?

“Dress nicely.”

What the fuck did that mean, Yoru wondered to himself. He pulled his shirts back towards him and paged through his topwear again. What colors went together? He had too many shades of blue and no idea what fit together. Would it need to match where Chamber was taking him? His gaze flicked back and forth between the ends of his closet: formal to casual to forbidden-from-being-thought-about. Stop thinking about that, he told himself.

Would people expect him to dress that way? What did “that” even mean?

He flicked through his hanging clothes again, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. It felt like it was him up as he tried to compare what shirts showed off his shoulders the best and compare it to tightness of his pants and then he couldn’t stop the feeling. Should he wear his - no, that really wasn’t an option.

He drew his gaze away from the back of his closet closer to the front where his daily attire rested. An amalgamation of a few t-shirts for Japanese rap bands and graphic tees in various colors greeted his eyes. His singular gray henley shirt separated his most colorful tees from his tank tops, and the anxious riftwalker rested his gaze on the solid colors, calming his breath while counting the different colors before his eyes. Crimson one, navy two, white three, blue four-

A knocking at his door pulled him out of his calming routine. He tore himself away from his closet and moved to open the door just as the knocks repeated themselves but louder.

Against the gray metal of the hallway, Phoenix was a warm vision of color. His black t-shirt and its printed flames took Yoru’s attention for a brief moment before his gaze flicked back to his visitor’s face. The Brit flashed him a hesitant grin and stuck a hand up in salute.

“Hey,” he greeted, shifting his weight back and forth. “I’m here to apologize for earlier this week.” The riftwalker grumbled at this and nodded. “Apology accepted.” He moved to close the door, but it caught on Phoenix’s outstretched arm. “Whoa, I wasn’t done. I gotta give you the whole apology spiel and make it up to you. Anything you need help with? I gotchu.”

Yoru considered his position for just a moment. He could really just slam the door and possibly get Phoenix’s fingers while he was at it in what could be very petty revenge, but instead he sighed before pushing the door open wider and beckoning him in.

“Actually, there is something you could help me with.” He paused before finishing his statement. “I need help picking an outfit.” Phoenix’s eyes lit up and he straightened himself up and followed Yoru in. “Of course, I gotchu bro! What’s this for?” Yoru took a deep breath and reminded himself that no matter the other’s reaction, he had brought this onto himself by inviting him in. “I’m going out. I need to ‘dress nicely’,” he air-quoted Chamber’s words.

He had little to worry about his room - Phoenix didn’t even spare a glance at his distinctly blue room, walls and all. The second Phoenix’s gaze landed on Yoru’s open closet and the spread of clothes set out on his bed, his went wide and he whisted. “Damn, Yoru! You got some stuff going in here. What kinda nicely we lookin’ at? Clubbing? Formal?” He turned and looked at the button-down laid on the bed atop a pair of pressed slacks. “Yo, this a date you going on?” Yoru really did regret bringing Phoenix in at that moment and as he opened his mouth to try to deny it, his cheeks betrayed him and heated his face up to a lovely rosy pink. “I knew it!” Phoenix jeered. “This isn’t a one man job at all - here, gimme a sec.” Before Yoru could even say a word, Phoenix was out the door.

Yoru was still thinking about how to get away with murder within the Protocol without getting caught when the blaze of a man returned with Jett and Skye in a tow.

“I heard we’re doing date prep?” Jett bounced into the room behind her rival and immediately began jostling Phoenix, which turned into a petty fight. Skye stepped in cautiously, eyeing Yoru across the noisy duo before opening her mouth to speak.

“I was just having a chat with Jett - you don’t mind if I tag along? Otherwise I can just be out of here, lickety-split.” Her eyes rested on him, taking in his tense posture and tried to read him through his dour expression as the energetic duelists bounced around the room. Skye was one of the few agents Yoru had positive feelings about, even if he had yet to show it. He respected her combat prowess and practicality, and also, her on-field healing abilities were really nice. He nodded his approval of her presence just as Jett exclaimed, “Hey Yoru, why do you have a dress in your closet?”

Time froze as Yoru remembered he hadn’t actually burned his old clothes instead of fantasizing about it. He slowly turned to look at the Korean, who was confusedly pulling out one of the last remnants of his past, a sky-blue dress with a pleated skirt.

His mind raced through possible explanations, but Yoru didn’t get a chance to explain, as Omen of all people teleported in at that moment, snatched the dress from Jett’s hands, growled, “That’s mine,” and teleported out in the most confusing sequence of Yoru’s life. He silently thanked whatever or whoever had looked out for him in that moment - he wasn’t ready to let his teammates know about that part of his life. The room was dead silent as the last wisps of Omen’s presence disappeared, allowing the next knock at the door to ring throughout the silent room.

Reyna let herself in without a reply, and swept her gaze around the entire room, judging the situation. “What?” she asked at the stares. “I heard trouble and I came to see what it was.”

Jett pointed at Yoru without hesitation and declared, “Date prep.”

Reyna’s scornful gaze transformed into mirthful glee, and it was at this point Yoru caved and decided whatever happened for the next 2 hours would happen. They couldn’t do worse to him than he could do to himself.

He looked fantastic, actually. His hair had been smoothed then firmly side-swept into an approximation of a less-showy hairdo that still managed to show off his blue streak. His make-up even paired with it well with it, thanks to their wonderful wind-blessed Radiant.

(“We’ll go simple but shapely,” Jett had declared and roped Skye into making sure Yoru didn’t fidget. The wind girl had literally dashed and run over with her make-up kit as soon as she figured out Yoru could use her darker foundation. “I’m so glad I can share it with someone! I can barely find a use for it outside of summer!”)

While Yoru had been trapped at his own desk, Phoenix and Reyna rummaged through the poor man’s clothes. He had been able to overhear their discussion as they analyzed his wearables, and it felt like they were picking him apart under glass. In the end, he ended up with a cleaned up face, tweezed eyebrows, and a stack of folded clothes that were shoved into his hands.

Now, Yoru fiddled with his sleeves on one of his very few dress shirts (a muted cobalt button-up for unanticipated formal wear at the Protocol), waiting by the entrance at 6:55pm.

“Like a nerd,” Jett had said as she had slapped his back on his way out. Reyna had tutted her tongue at the girl and fussed with his hair once again before Yoru got her approval via a “You look delightful, hermanito (1).” Phoenix had redone his tie at least 3 different times before just getting rid of it entirely and declaring Yoru ready for a “night getting it on, my man.”

The car pulled up a 6:57pm, a smooth black sedan that barely made a sound. The passenger-side window rolled down, letting out the sounds of music and allowing Chamber’s face appear as he leaned over the gear-shift. “Bonsoir, Yoru (a).” His usual work attire of a blue vest and vibrant tie had been swapped out for a sleek navy suit and crimson tie.

“Hi, Chamber,” he felt himself say as his cheeks warmed in attempt to match Chamber’s tie. He could smack himself for how stupid he was acting - he wasn’t a high schooler! Instead, Yoru opened his mouth and said the first thing to come to his mind in attempt to make conversation.

“This is not a company car. I haven’t seen it in the garage before.”

It’s a personal car. I do not want it mixed up where our teammates have access to it.” Yoru hummed in agreement. He’d seen what Killjoy and Raze got up to with enough time and little enough supervision. There was a kitchen tampering ban with their names basically written on it. He realized he had been standing next to the car for a good minute and opened the door and buckled himself in as they rolled away. Another question bubbled out of him: “You drive a lot?”

Chamber kept his eyes on the road as he drove them through the access tunnels. “A luxury if I have time.” They curved around the dark corners. “Not a lot of driving in Japan. A lot like here, I suppose.”

“Mhm,” was Chamber’s only response as he finally pulled them to the end of the access tunnels. He entered in the exit code that let the false rock face before them pull back, and Yoru sat there in the silence patiently. After the light of the setting sun hit their eyes and their vision adjusted, Chamber started up the conversation again. “How was your day? I did not see much of you, as usual.”

Yoru chuckled. “It was good. Practice with Brimstone and Astra and a workout with Breach, nothing big. You?”

“Just a few side-projects to handle on top of Brimstone’s mandatory training sessions. I did spend the whole day working so I could spend this evening focused just on you.”

“Flattering,” he croaked out. Yoru felt rather than saw Chamber’s gaze and he willed his cheeks to somehow stop the blood flow as he found himself at a loss for words. He started talking again after a beat of silence.

“If we are going on a -” He paused as he struggled with the word. “A date, should we call each other something besides our callsigns?”

A tension he hadn’t noticed earlier left Chamber’s shoulders as the Frenchman lowered them. “Ah, good point mon ami.” He turned his head and winked at Yoru. “I did make a reservation under Vincent Fabron and not Chamber, after all.”

If he could blush any harder, his face would be ablaze. “Daikaze Kentaro. You can call me Kentaro.”

“Quite a mouthful, but I suppose I have no room to judge. I went by Vince for a short time when there really was no need for it. My name is short enough as is.”

Yoru watched the rubble of San Marco disappear behind them as Chamber smoothly drove them away from the VALORANT Protocol based disguised as a ruin and towards the edge of Venice. He felt a weight in his chest disappear as they drew closer to lights of a city around. Chamber hadn’t even questioned his name, and for a moment, Yoru felt like he could fly. And just like that, their drive ended as they pulled up to a parking garage.

Chamber parked the car. In nearly the same motion, both exited the car at the same time and ended up looking at each other across its roof. Chamber smiled at him, a warm and dazzling thing that made Yoru feel like this was a dream, and before he knew it, the man was standing on his left side.

“Shall we, Kentaro?” Chamber held out his right hand, and shaken from his daze, Yoru hesitated for just a moment before he remembered that in this moment he was allowed to be Kentaro. He reached for the extended hand and grasped it firmly, only to be squeezed back. Comforted, they walked side by side towards the canals and their awaiting gondola, knowing that at the very least, he would be okay tonight.

Meanwhile, in the VALORANT HQ Common Area…

Seated on or draped over various surfaces of the living room was a gathering of what Brimstone would refer to as the “young’uns” or Viper would call “nuisances”, but they themselves would call “Bet Club”. Under more normal circumstances, Yoru might be invited to such a meeting, but seeing that he was the subject of Bet Club’s current meeting, perhaps it was fortuitous he had vacated the premises.

“Okay, so who could it be?”

Phoenix paced in the center of the encircled furniture and waved his left hand in the air. “Obviously not Brimstone or Viper.” Raze made a face from where she hung upside down on the couch and blew a raspberry. “If Viper was involved, I’d eat my shorts.” Next to her, Killjoy chuckled at the remark and continued scribbling at whatever schematics or notes she was taking in her notebook. Jett had tried leaning over the couch to peek, only to be slapped away and sent to sulk in the leather recliner on the other side of the room.

“Bets that it’s Sage?” Skye piped up. Her dog, released from its trinket, perked up in her lap as Jett suddenly slammed her fists down. “NO WAY SAGE IS TAKING YORU OUT,” she blurted, and everyone in the room turned to look at her. Realizing how she looked, with a cherry-red face and defensive posture, the Korean slunk down from her stance and muttered to herself while Phoenix gave her The Look.

“We’ll address the topic of your, uh, outburst at next Bet Club meeting,” Killjoy cooly defused the situation. “In the meanwhile, any other guesses?”

“My only guess is not Sova from the guys list,” Phoenix added. “He declined coming and I saw him in the workshop on my way here.” “That leaves Breach, Chamber, Cypher, and Omen for guys, and Astra and Sage for girls,” Skye ticked off on her fingers.

“Aren’t we forgetting KAY/O?” Killjoy asked.

Skye narrowed her eyes and looked closely at the engineer. “You think Yoru would go on a date with KAY/O?”

“Wouldn’t you?” Jett asked.

“No,” said Phoenix and Skye answered at the same time as Killjoy and Raze said “Yes.”

The ensuing fight took so much of their attention that no one noticed Reyna laughing from the kitchen where she could hear their entire argument. “Idiots,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s obviously Chamber.”

Meanwhile, with his face only lit by the screens in his room, Cypher cackled at the camera recording he had just finished of the entirety of today’s Bet Club debacle. The opening and closing of his door did not go unnoticed, and as a familiar hand grabbed his shoulder, he leaned into the visitor without looking at them. “Look at the children, habibi. They’re so funny.”

He and his visitor failed to look up at the corner screen watching the garage entrance, where two well-dressed figures slunk back into the compound and conveniently teleported out of sight.

The date had gone by in a blur of color and noise. Later, when asked, Yoru would barely be able to remember anything beyond Chamber’s laugh and the warmth spreading in his chest. There was dinner and a walk where they had window-shopped and hand-holding, and plenty of more conversation on the trip back. It was amazing to be there, in light, in the open, in love, he thought.

The travel through the VALORANT compound had been quick enough. None of Chamber’s clothes changed color, giving Yoru no indicator that they had teleported until the hand on his back had lowered until his pants were coming off and he was being tossed onto the bed, not that he minded after the entire evening.

Of the very few times Yoru was capable of thought during sex, he often just contemplated Chamber. Chamber’s gorgeous forearms. Chamber’s face, without his glasses. The glint of his embedded weapons, golden trails down his back and arms. Chamber, sweaty and glowing below him. Chamber, flushed and egging him on. Chamber Chamber Chamber.

Tonight, something was different. The room felt different, not because they had gone on an official date nor because Chamber had called him “Kentaro, my love” in public. Yoru felt something tugging inside of him, in the same place the Rift pulled at, and he silently prayed, amidst the pleasure and sweat and joy, that this was not a sign of the end of the briefly good things in his life.