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Chapter Text

Iso wandered the dimly lit halls of the VALORANT HQ, humming along to a playlist he chose at random, desperate for anything to fill the silence. He was thankful– the melody was relaxing, just enough of a droning beat to soothe his nerves. It was difficult on nights like these to get any meaningful rest. 

At least he had the music to drown out everything else. The music always did. 

The silence was too loud. Too unsettling. It was in the quiet when he felt the stains of violence on his hands, the same senseless violence he committed without a second thought as an Hourglass agent. He remembers forcing out the words when he left Brimstone a voicemail earlier in the week, admitting his confusion and delight at how different things felt around VALORANT HQ. 

Is this what it means to fight for something good?

He felt silly, almost, realizing it was the first time he had ever spoken his thoughts aloud to a superior. Never would he have imagined admitting his doubts to his previous agency. Despite only living here a few short weeks, he already felt confident enough to speak his mind. It was terrifying.

It was freeing.

Iso was still waiting for a few of his possessions, like his books, to arrive from home. It gave him more than enough time to chew through the novel Deadlock gifted him on his second night in the protocol.  However, a few pages in, he could already tell it was a bit too… terrifying for a late-night read. 

He appreciated the gesture, still. No one had ever gifted him a book before. No one had ever really gifted him anything . It was just another gesture of kindness that stuck in his thoughts, reminding him that his life was going to be different now. VALORANT was going to be different, and he was more than eager to begin anew. 

It still didn’t stop him from carrying his pistol holstered on his thigh as he walked alone at night. Old habit, he supposed. 

Iso absently wandered into the kitchen, deciding he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon and might as well find something to eat. He was greeted by the gray tones of stainless steel and the lingering smell of that night’s dinner— it reminded him of some kind of soup, but he wasn’t sure. He had eaten alone that night. 

The HQ’s kitchen was rather large, stocked to the brim with what he assumed to be everyone’s favorite foods. Some were stored in separate bags, labeled with agent’s names or small notes such as, “K.J.” or, “Phoenix, DO NOT TOUCH.” 

He made a mental note to bring up his preferences to Sage. Iso took care as he rummaged through the fridge, searching for something he could claim for himself. 

He heard something rustling behind him. It was difficult to hear through his music, but that something didn’t exactly sound human. Iso hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, his violet eyes straining in the dark. He pressed pause on his playlist. Quiet.

Again, he heard the noise, moving closer to the doorway. Iso let his instincts take over, slowing his breathing, his steady hands grasping his pistol at his side. He watched in stunned silence as a small yellow creature waddled around the corner holding a soda can between its nubby arms.

Their eyes met. Oh .

Iso flung his hand from his gun just as Gekko stumbled around the corner.

“Wings, no! I told you, you can’t have that stuff,” Gekko said, holding out his hand to the creature at his feet. “We don’t even know if you can – oh, hey Iso!”

Iso flexed his hand. “Hey.”

Gekko. Iso remembers when they first met in passing during his third night in protocol– he nearly tripped over one of his creatures in the hallway. The agent confused Iso as much as he interested him.

“You hungry too?” Gekko asked, padding barefoot across the tiled floor to dig through the cabinets above the sink. He wore what Iso assumed were his pajamas: a black shirt and sweatpants, although the leather harness he wore in combat still hung over his shoulder. If he looked long enough, Iso swore he saw two little eyes looking at him through the goopy lens in the center. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Iso admitted, peeling his eyes away. “Couldn’t really sleep.”

“Man, that sucks.”

“It’s fine.” Iso leaned back against the kitchen island, staring at Wingman as he tried climbing up Gekko’s pant leg. 

It’s like a cat, then?  

“Why are you eating so late?” Iso asked.

Gekko sighed, using one arm to help Wings sit on the counter. “My sleep schedule is bad.”

“This bad?”

“Yeah, but I swear I can explain.” Gekko handed a small bag of chips to Wings for safekeeping. “The room Brimstone gave me has this crazy old gaming console. I’ve been trying to beat his score, but I swear this guy is insane. I can’t even get close .”

Iso chewed the inside of his cheek. Here he was, wandering the dark halls to get his mind off of the sound of gunshots, and Gekko was gaming.

“How are you not tired from all the training today?” Iso asked.

Gekko laughed, quietly, to not disturb the base. “I didn’t just train, dude. After target practice I helped Phoenix with lunch, then I took a nap for a little bit. Not long, like,” he counted with his fingers, “...3 hours? Oh! Then, Neon wanted to play with Mosh for a bit.”

Iso struggled to find the words. “I see.” It was hard to think without his music. He regretted turning it off. 

Gekko did a double take as he cracked open the can of stolen soda. “Wait, what did you do after training?”

“More training,” Iso admitted. “I thought I could improve my score.”

Gekko’s eyes widened. “You’re already at the top of the leaderboard with everyone else, bro! What are you talking about?”

Iso shrugged. He had never felt embarrassed for doing what he was trained to do. To shoot. To kill. To say he felt out of place was an understatement. 

Iso shifted his footing. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

“We need to get you another hobby,” Gekko said, without a hint of irony. He took a bite of some kind of energy bar, adjusting the strap around his shoulder. “Tomorrow we’re gonna do something fun, alright? No excessive target practice.”

Iso’s fingers flexed on the counter’s edge. The words caught in his throat. 

You don’t have to. It’s fine. This is how it needs to be.

How much longer would he live like he was just another assassin? VALORANT had given him a second chance in life, a chance to fight for something good. His chance to bond with his new coworkers, no, his new family , as he had heard other agents call it, was standing right in front of him. He couldn’t let it go to waste.

Iso willed himself to meet Gekko’s eyes.

“I would like that,” Iso said, nodding. “Thank you, Gekko.” 

Gekko’s smile ignited. He lifted himself up to sit on the counter across from Iso.

“You got the tour when you first joined, right?” he asked, peeling back a wrapper.

Iso nodded. He remembered Sage guiding him through every wing of HQ, explaining the purpose of each room, speaking to him in fluent Chinese. Despite the bundle of nerves in his chest, her voice was soothing. The gesture meant more than any welcome gift ever could.

“I did,” Iso said, smiling faintly behind his hoodie. “Sage showed me the basics.”

Gekko spoke through a bite. “Perfect. We can show you the fun stuff, then.”

“Fun stuff?” Iso asked. 

We?

“Yeah, man,” Gekko said, casual. Iso could already tell he envied that about him– his ability to speak to anyone with vibrant, bubbling energy. “It’s not all business and target practice around here, otherwise we’d all go crazy.” 

“I look forward to it, then,” Iso said, slowly. “The fun parts, not the going crazy part.”

Gekko laughed. “Anytime, dude,” he said, scooping Wingman onto the crook of his arm. The creature gurgled happily, or at least, Iso assumed it was joy. He really couldn’t tell sometimes. 

With his assortment of snacks, Gekko made his way back towards the door, spinning on his heel at the last second. 

“Oh, there are some extra cookies I hid under the cereal in the third cabinet. You can have some if you want. Sharing is caring, and all that,” Gekko said. 

Iso really was in another universe. He nodded once, hoping his expression conveyed more gratitude than his voice.

“Goodnight, Iso!” Gekko chimed, and Iso sent him off with a little wave. Only after the footsteps faded did Iso allow himself to take another breath. 

How could even the smallest conversations around here fill him with so much worry? Perhaps he still didn’t trust everyone’s intentions. They accepted him into the protocol for his skills – his ability to get the “job” done, regardless of what methods he used. 

It was different now. At least now, when his eyes flashed and he willed himself to pull the trigger, knew the reason why. He was a killer, sure, but weren’t they all? Even Brimstone and Sage. 

Even Gekko , who almost tripped over his pant leg on the way out of the kitchen.

He forced the thought out of his mind. Maybe he really was getting hungry.

The third cabinet. Iso squinted, lifting the half-empty cereal box to discover a bag of spare cookies. Not the best hiding spot, he thought. 

He snuck two into his coat pocket, re-sealing and hiding the bag as if nothing happened. After selecting another playlist, Iso continued his night walk through HQ, his mind drifting away from the old blood under his nails. 

He focused on the crumbling cookies, the steady beat, and the promise of tomorrow. 

Chapter Text

Iso was beginning to realize how difficult it was to find time alone on the base.

Every moment spent outside of his room, he felt like someone was always just around the corner, seconds away from bumping into him. He didn’t mind it, in the end. This was the kind of interaction that had been so out of reach for so long– the kind he had been craving. He still couldn’t help the tension in his shoulders, feeling like he always had to be ready to socialize, ready to act like a normal person. 

He was thankful to find Skye and Deadlock at a moment where his brain felt like working. 

“Hei, Iso!” Deadlock greeted him, slowing her jog. The two were returning from an early morning run, breathing heavy, a sheen of sweat over their skin. Deadlock caught her breath. “Have you started that novel I gave you yet?” 

Of all the VALORANT agents, Iso’s interactions with Deadlock had been some of the strangest, but not unwelcome. She had this energy about her that he couldn’t quite place– friendly, but tense. She was clearly trying just as hard as he was to form meaningful bonds.

Maybe that was why he found it rather easy to talk with her. They shared a common struggle. 

“I did, yeah,” Iso said. He heard his own voice muted through the music playing in his earbuds.

“Did you give him the one about the ghost?” Skye asked, between sips of water. “It’s a bit intense, don’t ya think?”

Iso smiled, faint. “A little bit.”

“I told Iselin to give you something else,” Skye teased. “What kind of a welcome gift is that?”

Iselin. He had never known her real name before now. It was too easy to forget they all had one: an identity outside of their work. How long had it been since he heard his own?

Deadlock rolled her eyes. “You’re just upset you were too scared to read it yourself.”

The women laughed, bright like ringing bells– a pleasant sound that broke through the barrier of Iso’s earbuds.

“I promise I’ll finish it soon,” Iso said, hesitating. “I appreciate it, Deadlock.” 

Her real name sat heavy on his tongue, but he couldn’t force it out. It felt too personal, at least for him. She returned his smile. 

Skye stretched her arms above her head. “How’ve you been holding up, mate?”

“Good,” Iso said. “Everyone is very welcoming.”

It was true. By now, Iso had interacted with every agent at least once, even if in passing. He supposed it meant he had no excuse to spend the days alone, slinking around like a ghost. 

“Well I’ve heard some great things about you,“ Skye said, and for a hopeful moment, Iso wondered what kind of things she had heard. “Brimstone says you’re a killer out in the field.” 

Right . Iso didn’t need praise for his ability to pull a trigger. 

It struck him in that moment how little he had tried putting himself out there. He couldn’t blame the other agents, how were they to know anything about him but his past? His reputation?

“That’s reassuring,” he lied. The praise was empty. 

“I hope to see you in action myself soon,” Deadlock said. 

Her gaze trailed away from Iso, and he saw her expression falter. Her eyes grew dark, uncertain.

“Hey man!” shouted a voice behind him. Gekko. 

Iso looked over his shoulder to find him jogging over, a grin plastered across his face. The sight stirred something inside of him– he found himself smiling too.

Iso caught Gekko’s eyes flick to Deadlock, then back to him. He cleared his throat. 

“Oh, uh, hey guys,” Gekko said, quieter. The air felt heavy.  “You ready to go, Iso?”

Deadlock zipped her light hoodie, offering Iso a quick nod.

“Keep me updated,” she said, her tone far more subdued compared to before. She signaled for Skye, and the two women continued their walk, disappearing beyond the hallway’s corner.

Gekko let out an audible sigh.

“Is there something I’m missing?” Iso asked, confused. He wasn’t the best at words, but he wasn’t stupid– he could sense the tension like a cord about to snap. 

“Ah, nah,” Gekko said. “It’s just, Deadlock is still adjusting to my pals.”

Iso eyed Gekko’s harness, trying to make out the shape of the green one, he thought, behind the lens. The colors were nebulous.

“She’s not a fan?” Iso asked.

Gekko shrugged. “It’s more complicated than that, I think,” he said, motioning for Iso to follow him. They walked together down the hall, footsteps echoing off the walls. “Like, I don’t wanna just say ‘get over it’, ya know? But come on, Wingman is so cute! How could anyone hate him?”

Iso fondly remembered the image of Wingman holding a bag of chips. “You’re right.”

“Exactly!” Gekko dragged his hands down his face. “But hey, we’re getting there. I’m trying not to hold a grudge, being the bigger person, yada yada. It’s whatever.”

Iso wished he knew what to say. He took a chance, nudging Gekko’s arm with his elbow as they walked. 

“I’m sorry,” he offered. “If it makes you feel any better, I like your friends.”

Gekko beamed at him. “Aw, thanks. I think they like you too.”

***

Iso recognized their destination. 

The recreation room sat beside the firing range, a jumble of couches, lockers and workbenches, all cluttered and thoroughly used. In the center of the room, Iso saw Jett, Phoenix, and Yoru in the middle of some kind of heated debate. In the corner, Sova and Cypher sat in silence over a game of chess, the tension like a dagger. 

“I’m telling you, man, you do not wanna play against Cypher,” Gekko whispered behind his hand. 

Iso tried to identify any emotion on Cypher’s mask from across the room. “You’ve played him in chess before?”

“I tried, but I don’t actually know how to play,” Gekko said. “I just moved pieces around until he told me he’d won.”

Iso bit his lip to stop a laugh. “Rough.”

“Hey, Gekko!”

The pair turned their attention away from the game of chess to find Phoenix waving them over, frantic. He sat on the couch like a normal person, Yoru rested on the arm of it, and Jett on the back. 

“We’ve been waiting on you,” Phoenix continued. “What’s this about an intervention?”

Iso blinked, snapping his gaze to Gekko. 

The boy laughed, holding his hands up innocently. “I may have over-exaggerated,” Gekko admitted. 

“You said it was an emergency,” Yoru said, raising a brow. 

Jett crossed her arms. “A fun emergency.” 

“Is this about me?” Iso asked, and in an instant he regretted it as all eyes turned to him. He cleared his throat. “Gekko thinks I need new hobbies.”

“You do,” Gekko said quickly. “But that’s why I gathered an elite task force to help solve this problem.”

“You chose right, my friend!” Phoenix laughs. 

Ah. Iso understood now. 

It was touching, he thought, that they were taking time out of their day for him. Though, it did place a strange weight on his shoulders. Iso didn’t want to disappoint. 

Gekko plopped himself down on a cushioned chair around the center coffee table. Iso leaned against it casually, taking a slow breath. He skipped to the next song on his playlist. 

“Have you all met properly?” Gekko asked. 

Iso couldn’t say it was much of an introduction. He remembered his first mission with them,  watching the trio bolt into action in a blaze of fire, smoke and rift energy. It was a simple infiltration– they made it feel like a war.  

“Yeah, we’ve had a mission together,” Iso said, choosing his words carefully. “You’re all hard to forget.”

Jett swayed back and forth. “We can get a little carried away. I like the challenge.”

A question burned in Iso’s throat, one he never quite had the chance to ask before now. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his thumb brushing over the volume controls of his phone. The music played low. Droning.

“How do you feel about fighting versions of yourself?” he asked, his curiosity bleeding through. Iso hoped it wasn’t silly to ask. He had yet to be assigned to a real mission– the anticipation was killing him. 

Phoenix, Yoru, Jett – they all looked unbothered. This was their entire line of work nowadays, trapped in a cycle of violence with their mirror selves. Gekko shifted beside Iso, watching the group in silence.

“I won’t lie. It was weird at first,” Phoenix began, reclining on the couch, his voice dripping with confidence, “but now it’s easy. Honestly, it’s kinda fun.”

Yoru‘s lips twitched into a smile. “I agree with Phoenix. It’s fun shooting his double.” He narrowly avoided Phoenix’s slap to his arm. “Consider it a way to let out your frustrations.”

“You’re terrible,” Jett deadpanned. “But Phoenix is right. You’ll get used to it.”

Iso gripped his phone tighter. “I’m not worried,” he assured them. “I think it will be good practice to fight any of your doubles, but I am looking forward to facing my own.”

“Well, I’m not looking forward to yours, man,” Gekko said, earnest. “You’re kinda...” He hesitated, but the rest did not. 

“Scary,” Phoenix said.

Jett nodded. “Really scary.”

Iso forced a smile. “I am?” 

What do they think of him?

“Not all of us were trained assassins,” Yoru said, shrugging. “Nor did we have such a… reputation.” Iso dropped his gaze. 

“I have seen most of you fight. There is a reason you’re here,” Iso said.

There must be a reason for him too.

Jett smiled, her eyes scrunching up at the corners. “You still gotta show us some tricks.” She lowered her voice, playful. “Is it true they called you the Dead Lilac?”

Iso couldn’t contain his groan, and Jett poorly stifled a laugh behind her hand. 

“C’mon guys,” Gekko said, “I brought Iso here to get him away from all the shooting and training stuff.”

He hopped up, placing a firm hand on Iso’s shoulder. It took every ounce of control Iso had not to flinch away. 

It was another thing he noticed about VALORANT agents – their intimacy, for lack of a better word. He saw it in the way Raze hugged her friends upon returning from a mission, in the way Sova touched someone’s arm as when they spoke, or even in the way Phoenix and Yoru headlocked each other in the recreation room over a lost bet. The closeness. The touch.

It felt so unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. The way Gekko squeezed his shoulder, the warmth of his hand soaking through his jacket – Iso liked it. It was a gentle reminder he deserved to be here too. 

Iso met his eyes. “What did you have in mind?” 

***

Iso was certain he could spend a lifetime at VALORANT HQ and discover something new each and every day. Today that discovery was nestled outside the base, in a shaded courtyard beneath the palm trees: a basketball court. 

They had broken into two teams, Gekko and Iso vs. Phoenix and Jett. Yoru preferred to be the ref. 

When asked why, all he said was, “I like bossing you all around.” 

Iso was no athlete, but he was strong. He was fast. Even under the unrelenting sunlight, he managed to keep up with the rest. 

It took a few tries, here and there, to remember he was supposed to be a part of a team. He had a bad habit of trying to do it all himself. After two failed dunks he began to realize that, just maybe, he was not going to succeed alone. Gekko seemed more than eager to take the lead.

Iso passed the ball, Gekko took his shot, and just as the ball slipped off the rim, a zap of blue light pushed it back in. 

The culprit was one of Gekko’s creatures, now hovering just beside his head— the blue one, whose name Iso didn’t know yet. Gekko nuzzled it with his cheek. 

“Is that considered cheating?” Jett asked, panting. 

Yoru paced the outer edge of the court, twirling his comb. “No.” 

Gekko cheered in the distance. Phoenix pouted, looking between Yoru and the rest. Iso swore he saw his eyes flicker– golden.

“Alright, then, let’s do this,” Phoenix said, breaking into a grin.

Something suddenly changed in the atmosphere, as Phoenix and Jett seemed to ignite. Iso felt it– their radiance, flowing from them like a broken dam.

He barely had a chance to blink as Jett propelled herself off the ground, faint wisps of wind circling her legs, dunking the ball hard enough to rattle the entire hoop. She landed, using both hands to brush the bangs out of her face. 

“Oops,” she said. 

The game continued in a blur of choices that Iso imagined would make Brimstone very, very disappointed. 

Iso blocked a shot with his wall, Gekko rendered half the court unusable with his mosh pit, Jett smoked them out, Phoenix almost set a tree on fire— it was exhilarating. Iso’s music sounded so distant over the rush of blood in his ears, the beat rattling his skull, igniting his veins. 

It was hard. A game with absolutely no stakes had him panting, straining himself to his limit just to keep up, and it felt amazing. 

Gekko called his name, and he didn’t even hear it. 

That’s when he collided with Gekko, knocking them both hard against the court floor, one of his earbuds sent flying. The world came back into focus, unfiltered sounds flooding his senses – birds, squeaking shoes, his own breathing.

“Ah, shit!” Gekko said. “You okay, Iso?” 

Gekko’s concerned face eclipsed Iso’s vision. He blinked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Iso said, uncertain. He touched his empty ear out of habit, trying to adjust the volume. “Where did…?”

Gekko squinted, the gears turning in his head. Insects buzzed in the trees around the court. Iso lifted himself to his elbows, his hands splayed on the court’s surface, searching. 

“Found it!” Phoenix shouted proudly, jogging over with the tiny purple earbud. 

Iso grabbed it harder than he meant to. 

“Thanks,” he said, using the pads of his fingers to brush away the dirt from the bud. One side was rough, scraped from the ground. The lights still worked, at least, and as far as he could tell it wasn’t broken. He let out a sigh of relief. 

As he placed it back in his ear, the world faded once more. A steady hum filled his mind. No more footsteps. No more buzzing. 

No more .

“It’s all good?” Gekko asked, his eyes wide. Iso met his gaze and was hit by a strange sense of guilt. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry I bumped you.”

Gekko offered him a hand to stand. “Don’t worry about it.”

It was getting late. They ended their basketball game after realizing they were truly, undeniably, equally matched. Any further battles and they might have actually set something on fire.

Iso felt breathless, but satisfied. Phoenix even gave him a pat on the back. 

Iso watched the trio disappear back into HQ, their banter echoing off the sturdy metal walls. 

Gekko stretched his arms above his head, yawning. “That was exhausting,” he said. “Who knew that radiant basketball would take so much outta me.”

Iso chuckled. “It was fun, Gekko.”

Gekko smiled, the kind of carefree smile with all his teeth. Iso realized he had dimples. He looked a bit overheated, his cheeks pink, pieces of his short hair laying flat against his scalp. 

“I’m really, really glad to hear that,” Gekko said, still catching his breath. “We make a pretty good team.”

A team . Iso’s chest felt weightless at the thought. Maybe he had a place here after all. 

As they made their way inside, Iso took a chance. 

“What about you, Gekko? You never answered my question earlier.”

Gekko blinked, snapping out of his weary state. “Huh?”

“Fighting your mirror self,” Iso said, slowly. “What is it like?”

Gekko ran his hand over the lens of his harness, the tattoo on his wrist swimming beneath his skin. He took a breath.

“I just try not to think about it,” he said, his voice lacking any energy. Iso’s eyes flickered to his hands, to the swirling colors beneath it. His meaning was clear. 

“I’m sorry,” Iso said, and he regretted bringing it up. “I didn’t even think about having to fight them too.”

The sunlight against Gekko’s face made him look so young, his green hair popping against a lavender sky. His eyes were tired.

Iso was no stranger to death, to violence. His entire line of work numbed him to the concept of taking a life. Pulling the trigger was as easy as breathing.

But sometimes he wondered how the other agents were able to do the same– Sova’s words were kind, but his arrows were sharp. Skye could pet her animals with the same hand that held her bloodied knife.

He couldn’t imagine it for Gekko, though. The dots simply didn’t connect in his mind. 

“It’s okay. You just get used to it, right?” Gekko said after a moment. 

Iso turned up the volume on his phone, gripping it tight to stop his hand from shaking.

 “I guess you do.”

Chapter Text

Iso’s routine began to change.

His habits of self-isolation were mended, day by day, despite the claws of his past sinking deep into his mind. He spent more time in the recreation room after training, leaning against the wall and listening in on conversations, even if through his music. The sounds of the agents’ voices blended well with the melodies, and it helped soothe his nerves.

“Basketball from Hell,” as Gekko had deemed it, became a vital part of everyone’s weekly schedule. Neon was eager to join, although she did require a few restrictions for everyone’s sake. Radiants weren’t the only formidable forces either, as Raze had nearly exploded the hoop on her first run, prompting Killjoy to look into a less breakable alternative. 

What Brimstone didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

It took Iso a while to understand why he really enjoyed it so much. Sure, it was nice to blow off steam, to use his abilities in a situation where he didn't feel his life depended on it– but it was also nice to laugh, to scream, to celebrate. The high-fives, the chest-bumps, the claps on his shoulder. The warm smiles and bright eyes. Nothing had ever made him feel so at home.

Iso never knew he needed something so badly, something so small but so important– all because of a midnight snack. 

He wondered if Gekko knew, somehow, that Iso didn’t really need a hobby. It was easy enough to take the gun out of his hand. It was harder to force the words in his head out of his mouth. Iso didn’t care about the game, because the game wasn’t the reason he found himself smiling more in the last week than he had in years.

It was his friends.

Or the nights he stumbled across Omen knitting in the library at night, Fade sitting across from him with a worn book in her lap, the two welcoming him to sit. It was the safety he felt in their presence, the way he felt less inclined to check over his shoulder. 

Omen and Iso had a silent understanding. Iso had spared Omen’s life, but it felt in a way they had spared each other. It was through Omen that Iso had the opportunity for a second chance in the VALORANT Protocol. 

So in those quiet moments where they sat together by the firelight, Iso didn’t have to pretend to be anyone else– he didn’t have to overthink it. Of course he loved his time with the other agents, but he could only spend so much time in a room with others before his doubts started to eat away at his practiced smile. 

He began to fear that the moment his friends knew him, really knew him, they would leave. He feared losing the sanctuary he had only just begun to build for himself. A stupid, ludicrous thought, he knew. It still didn’t go away. 

He tried not to think about it as he sat across from Gekko in the recreation room, tapping through songs on his phone until landing on just the right one. The thick steel walls separating the lounge from the firing range dulled the sounds of gunshots. Killjoy and Raze were testing their own synergy, and Iso could occasionally see flashes from the explosions on the other side. Multicolored and vibrant, just like the girls themselves. 

After another bout of explosions, the girls bursted out of the firing range with massive grins on their faces. Raze slung her arm over Killjoy and planted a dramatic smooch on her cheek. 

“Nice one, babe!” Raze shouted, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Her pride was tangible. 

Killjoy giggled, covering half of her face with her hand. “Please, you blew up the last targets yourself!”

Iso averted his gaze, unsure if it was the polite thing to do. He didn’t remember anyone in his old organization really having friends, let alone relationships. He found it… sweet. 

Instead, his eyes trailed to the scoreboard above the range, where each agent had nearly identical scores. 

“Is there a difficulty setting?” He asked, out of curiosity. 

Killjoy adjusted her glasses. “Technically, yes. This is the hardest one.”

He blinked. Surely there had to be a way to push themselves more.

“Can you make it harder?”

As if possessed, everyone in the room said, “ No, ” in unison. Iso sunk into his seat ever-so slightly. 

Gekko nudged Iso’s knee with his foot to grab his attention. “It’s a long story, man.”

Right. Iso knew better than to question it. 

Upon a second glance, Iso noticed Gekko’s own score among the top, just like the other agents. Of course, he didn’t view anyone in the protocol as a weak fighter– all of them were deadly. However, something about Gekko’s demeanor made it hard to imagine him in combat. 

Maybe it was the fact they had yet to be assigned to a mission together, or maybe it was how he sat with Wingman in his lap, scratching his head. He was too gentle.

“Hey, Gekko,” Iso began. Gekko looked up from his very important task, his brown eyes wide. Iso nearly hesitated. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in action yet. Wanna give the range another shot?”

“Yeah, I could,” Gekko said, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “But you really just wanna watch?”

Iso nodded, genuine. “Of course.”

Wingman rolled out of Gekko’s lap, shuffling across the floor until he stood at Iso’s feet. One yellow claw tugged at his pant leg. Then it hit him.

Iso cleared his throat. “I mean, unless you wanna duo?”

“Do I?” Gekko nearly shouted. “Of course I do! Do you know how much I’ve been dying to fight with you, dude?”

Iso felt a swell of pride. He also felt a deep sense of dread festering beneath the surface. In his previous line of work, he only had to rely on himself to get the job done. Even in his short time as a VALORANT agent, he tended to skip reading the brief, relying on his own experience to carry him through– a bad habit. 

Iso wasn’t even sure if he knew how to work as a team.

Though, it was hard to say no with Gekko looking at him with such excitement in his eyes. What better time to start trying than right now?

Iso turned down the volume on his phone, just a little, enough to hear Wingman’s gurgles of approval. If anything, he was always ready for a fight.

“Then let’s do it,” he said. 

***

The sheriff rested heavy against his palm. Iso took a deep, steadying breath, tightening the straps at the base of his gloves. Beside him, Gekko bounced on his toes, shaking out his wrists. He could feel the energy radiating off of him. 

Iso tilted his head. “Do you bring all your friends into battle?”

“Yeah,” Gekko said, patting the lens of his harness. The eyes swirled beneath his hand, like they were ready to break through the surface. “They really like it. Maybe like, a little too much, honestly.” As if for emphasis, Wingman jumped off of his back, circling Gekko’s feet. The test would begin soon, once Killjoy was done recalibrating. 

“And they all have names?” Iso asked.

Gekko nodded. “Yeah, the best ones, if you ask me. I’ll tell you as we go.”

Iso squinted. “I don’t think we’ll have much time to–”

He was interrupted by the sound of the range door clicking shut behind them, steam hissing from the perimeter. Platforms began to rise around the room, for cover and verticality, towering over them both. 

Iso closed his eyes. He could feel it now, crackling in the air around him–  the ambient energy that caressed his skin. A slow breath. The air pulsed, heavy. Powerful. Violent threads danced over his fingertips.

All he had to do was take it. He cranked the volume on his playlist, his eyes sharp. 

“Let’s goooo!” Gekko yelled, startling Iso’s focus as he ran into the fray, Wingman hot on his heels. Iso supposed that method worked too. 

Iso’s eyes settled on a pillar, his body kicking into action as he dove for cover. Gunshots rang out from the line of bots in the back of the room. A few feet away from him, Gekko crouched low behind his own chosen piece of cover. A bullet hit the corner of the pillar, splintering. 

Iso gripped his pistol tighter. “Now would be a good time for a demonstration!” 

Gekko flicked his hand up, a radiant creature manifesting just above his fingertips. The blue one, Iso recognized, with closed eyes and a small dimpled shell. It looked at peace, despite the gunshots. 

“This is Dizzy,” Gekko said. “Get ready to take out a bot, alright? She can blind them.”

Iso swallowed down the beginnings of apprehension. He trusted Gekko, he had to in order for this to work. A quick peek revealed a bot, alone, at a safe angle. Iso met Gekko’s eyes once more and nodded.

“Take ‘em out, girl!”

Gekko tossed Dizzy high above his cover, and Iso swung the corner. A single blue beam of light hit his target dead in the face, the bot’s fire growing wildly inaccurate, giving Iso the perfect opportunity to take his shot. He pulled the trigger. 

Bang . The bot’s head fell backwards, rolling hard against the floor. Iso’s radiance grew stronger.

“Nice!” Gekko shouted, and Iso’s lips twitched in a smile. 

“Thanks,” Iso said, low, “and thank you, Dizzy.” 

The shots continued, and Iso wove through cover, the music thrumming in his veins. Gekko kept pace, covering angles that Iso couldn’t, hitting targets with his spectre in unrelenting bursts. Bots lost arms, legs– some were even stunned by Wingman, who scuttled through the battlefield in glee. They all fell into a rhythm, Gekko weakening bots just for Iso to take out their heads in one clean shot. 

Iso turned to compliment Gekko and narrowly avoided getting hit in the neck. The two crouched behind the same piece of cover, shoulder-to-shoulder. 

“Alright, Mosh, it’s go-time,” Gekko said quietly, luring the green creature out of the harness. It sat perfectly in his palm, blinking with wide eyes. 

Iso reloaded, taking another deep breath. “Mosh,” he repeated. This one was rather smaller, like a green tennis ball with small, fluttering ears. “What does he do?”

“See those bots in the corner?” Gekko asked, ignoring him. Iso rolled to his toes, staying low. He could see them, clustered together, their onslaught of bullets shattering against their cover. 

“Get ready to jump out,” Gekko said. 

“What?”

Gekko met his eyes. “Trust me.”

It felt so foreign to hear those words through the guttural feeling of gunshots rattling his chest. Putting his life in someone else’s hands, even during training, went against every instinct in his body. Yet, there was not an ounce of fear in Gekko’s eyes. 

These creatures, his family– he trusted them with his life. Iso knew it was time he started to do the same. 

Iso fought his doubts, giving one last glance to Mosh before bracing himself to run. He hoped it  was enough to avoid a bullet in his chest.

“Now!”

Gekko jumped over the wall, lobbing Mosh directly at the feet of the bots. Right before Iso’s eyes, Mosh exploded across the floor, practically melting through the metal casing, toppling their opponents. The boys took their shots, shredding through the now-defenseless bots. 

Iso had a hard time believing a fight could be this simple. Is this what it was like to have someone by his side? 

Mosh’s acid puddle began to shrink as the creature re-formed, condensing back into a perfect orb. Gekko scooped him back up, and Mosh fluttered back into his harness. Gekko bowed.

Iso barked a laugh. “Wow,” he said, “now you’re just showing off.”

It was strange enough fighting as part of a team, let alone one with three, odd little creatures. I’ve never fought with anyone like you , is what he wanted to say, but Iso held his tongue. Would it sound rude? He motioned instead for Gekko to follow him, bringing them low behind another risen piece of cover. They listened.

Wingman poked his head around the corner, grumbling something absolutely incoherent.

“There’s two left,” Gekko said, translating. He reloaded his gun, his hands shaking from adrenaline. “One to the left, the other is rotating, I think.”

They were so close to the end, Iso could feel the beginnings of satisfaction seep into his bones. 

“I can take the left,” Iso said, his world tunneling into this singular moment. 

The energy swarmed through his body, pushing him forward. Everything else in the room seemed to disappear as he stepped out of cover– his eyes bright, hands steady. There was nothing, no sound, no voices, just the violet light eclipsing his target. 

This , he knew.

The bot fired. The bullet whizzed just past his ear, tousling his hair. Iso returned fire in an instant. Headshot. A familiar rush flooded his senses, one of a mission complete.

The energy began to fade as Iso heard Gekko cry out. 

Iso turned just in time to see him clutching his shoulder, hunched behind a half-shattered piece of cover. The final bot had rotated just enough to get an angle on him. Iso flicked up his pistol, frantic, taking out the target before it had a chance to fire another bullet. 

It fell hard onto the floor, oil leaking from its broken carapace a little too much like blood for Iso’s liking– but there was no time to focus on it. 

Iso rushed to Gekko’s side. “Are you hit?”

“Not really,” Gekko said, groaning. “Just a piece of the wall hit me. Damn, it knocked the wind outta me.”

Iso’s eyes scanned over his shoulder. He was able to breathe a small sigh of relief at the lack of any visible injury– it would probably bruise, at worst. 

Still, Iso’s hands hovered in front of Gekko’s shoulders. He didn’t know what to do, or what to say. He wanted to help. 

He ran the scenario over again in his mind. The angles he left uncovered, the enemy he ignored– he should have been there . The thought of Gekko safe behind his shield burned into his mind. 

“Sorry, I…” He struggled for the words. “I overextended. It’s a bad habit.”

Gekko shook his head. “Man, I didn’t even get to show you Thrash.”

“You almost got shot, Gekko.”

Gekko rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to be mad?”

The question rattled in his head. Iso latched their hands together, lifting Gekko off the floor now littered with shrapnel and bullet casings. 

“I would be,” Iso admits. 

The overhead lights flickered back on, the firing range slowly resetting to its base state. The cover sank back into the floor, revealing just how much carnage they left in their wake– they were met by practically a sea of headless bots. 

Despite their victory, Iso couldn’t consider it anything but his own failure. Even weeks into his stay at HQ and he was still fighting like it was him against the world. Old habits gripped him like a vice.

Gekko snapped him out of his thoughts with a hard punch to his arm. Yeah, he deserved it. 

“I’d say we did a pretty good job,” Gekko said. He rolled his sore shoulder as he spoke.  “Dude, watching you fight, you’re like a machine out there!”

Iso knew the compliment shouldn’t spark anything inside of him. He had heard it so many times before. Though the way Gekko spoke it, with such reverence, it was hard not to bristle with pride. 

“You and your friends are amazing,” Iso said in return. “The fight felt so easy with you. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Gekko scratched at the back of his neck, looking away. 

“Aw man, thanks.” He scooped Wingman into his arms, and he crawled up to sit on Gekko’s shoulder. “You hungry?”

“I could go for a snack, yeah.”

“I was talking to Wingman.” Iso’s eyes widened and Gekko doubled over with laughter. “I’m kidding! Kidding!”

Iso shook his head. The sound of Gekko’s laughter calmed something deep inside of him. A pleasant, rolling sound, like the melodies in his ear. 

 “I’m leaving you again, next time,” Iso teased, hoping it wasn’t too harsh. 

Gekko shoved him, playful, as they exited the range. “ Eres un dolor, amigo. ”

***

Gekko dragged Iso back to the kitchen shortly after practice. They scavenged for snacks– chips and energy bars, mostly, and Gekko cracked open two cans of soda for them both. It was a new one that Iso hasn’t tried before. It tasted a bit like lime. 

As Gekko focused on retrieving something from the top cabinet, Iso set his phone on the counter to scroll for another song. He needed something calmer.

“Are you always listening to something?” Gekko asked.

“Yes.”

He laughed. “Even when you fight?”

“It helps me focus,” Iso said, shrugging. It was partly the truth. Gekko handed him a bowl, and he felt inclined to say more. “I don’t like when it’s quiet.”

Gekko sat beside him at the kitchen island, his feet dangling from the high top chair. Iso noticed his scuffed sneakers, one shoelace coming undone from their training. He swung his feet, and Iso realized he had never seen Gekko sitting still before.

“You would like my room, then,” Gekko said, “my homies never stop talking.” Wingman produced a sound akin to a whine, and Gekko rolled his eyes.

Iso was struck by a thought– he had never been to any of the agents' rooms before. His own was pitifully decorated, but he couldn’t help but wonder what Gekko’s was like. He knew he had a gaming console, probably some extra space for his pals, but that was about it. Maybe it was full of green things, like his hair.

He wanted to ask more, but the words couldn’t form on his tongue. 

“So you can understand them?” Iso asked instead.

“Yeah,” Gekko said casually, as if it wasn’t an insane concept. “They’re always gossiping, honestly.”

Iso laughed behind his drink at the thought. “Sorry,” he said.

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m laughing at you.”

Gekko restrained his own giggle. Why was he laughing too? “You gotta stop apologizing for having a good time,” he said.

Iso couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

To save him from himself, Reyna entered the kitchen at that moment, strolling up behind the two. Gekko continued crunching at his chips, undisturbed by her presence at his back.

“Hey, Reyna,” he chimed, without even turning.

She threaded her fingers up the back of his neck, combing his short hair. Her touch was gentle, like a mother cat grooming her young. Iso had only ever seen those hands drenched in ghoulish energy, sucking the life force out of her enemies. 

It felt strange to see her now, under the fluorescent kitchen lights, a fond smile painting her lips.

“Hola, cariño,” Reyna said, “relaxing after a long day already?” One of her hands fell to Gekko’s shoulder. He flinched, just barely.

Gekko chuckled. “Por ahora.”

“¿Qué pasó con tu hombro?” she asked, head tilted. 

Iso couldn’t quite understand, but he tracked her gaze to Gekko’s shoulder. Reyna’s senses were sharp. She could tell it hurt.

“Aye, it’s nothing,” Gekko assured her. “We were just training. Iso and I did great in the range!”

Reyna delighted at Gekko’s innocent joy. It was clear as daylight– she had a soft spot for him. Iso couldn’t blame her.

Of all the agents, Gekko was something special, his presence like a beacon in the dark. The thought hit him too suddenly, and Iso nearly choked on the next sip of his drink.

It drew Reyna’s attention to him. He felt a subtle shift in the air, the hair on his arms prickling. Reyna regarded Iso with a tight smile, eyes betraying her kindness.

“Do be more careful next time, hermoso,” she told Gekko, her eyes never leaving the other man’s gaze. 

Gekko, oblivious, tilted back his head to look up at her, all smiles. “I will,” he promised.

Iso broke his gaze away from Reyna’s, and in an instant he felt he could breathe easier. Funny, he thought, that anyone would consider him scary when she was right there . 

Reyna bid the boys farewell, leaving them alone together once again. Iso cleared his throat.

“So, Reyna is your mentor?” he asked, blunt.

Gekko up from his food at Iso, breaking into a grin. “Yeah, kinda,” he said. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Iso rolled his eyes, and Gekko laughed– warm, inviting. He could accept the teasing, in the end, if it meant he got to hear that sound. He had to make up for the years he spent in the lifeless environment at Hourglass somehow. 

“She’s great, man. Like yeah, she’s scary, but she’s really nice once you get to–” A crash interrupted Gekko. 

Wingman had managed to climb onto the kitchen island, waddling in quick circles around the sink, knocking over one of the dishes. Dizzy popped herself out of Gekko’s harness too, zipping up towards one of the cabinets. 

“Hey, chill out!” Gekko said, stern, but it was hopeless. His creatures continued darting around the room, their energy uncontainable. 

It answered a few of Iso’s unspoken questions– namely, if Gekko’s creatures harbored some level of super-intelligence. Even in his short time with Gekko, Iso could tell that the creatures were unique, observant, curious, mischievous. Their bond was strong, but that didn’t stop them from causing a little chaos now and again.

Gekko sighed. “Sorry, they’ve got the zoomies.”

Iso continued to sip at his drink as if chaos was not breaking out all around him. 

“It’s okay,” he said as one of the cabinets rattled. 

Gekko managed to catch Wingman, clutching the little fiend against his chest like a pillow. Dizzy was a bit trickier to contain, and Iso would be lying if he said he didn’t love watching Gekko attempt to catch her mid-air like a ball– what is this feeling?

“I’d love to keep hanging,” Gekko said, his creatures contained in his arms, squirming, “but I think I’ve gotta go for now.”

Iso nodded, his voice tinged with a laugh. “It’s no problem.”

“Are you laughing at me?” Gekko said, squinting. 

Iso met his eyes, emboldened. “Yes.”

He was sure if Gekko’s arms weren’t occupied with his creatures, he would have gotten another playful slap on the arm. Instead, Gekko laughed, shaking his head. 

“You’re something else, Iso,” he said, his voice softer. “See ya later, okay?”

Iso almost forgot how to speak as Gekko left, offering one last goodbye as the boy disappeared beyond the door. It was twice now that Iso found himself sitting in stunned silence, in this same, quiet kitchen. 

As Iso was left alone with his music, he found the melody felt quite empty without Gekko’s voice.

Chapter Text

As soon as Brimstone deemed Iso ready for a real mission, the assignments didn’t stop coming. 

Iso welcomed the change in pace, seeing it as an opportunity to push himself even harder. He strived to become the perfect teammate– strong, fearless, reliable. There was no amount of practice in the range that could ever truly prepare him for a war. He needed experience in the field.

Everything the other agents had told him, from the good to the bad, was true. It was strange, in the beginning, to fire a bullet at someone practically identical to one of his friends. What do we learn from fighting ourselves? It was a question he would ask himself while cleaning the barrel of his gun on the VLT/R ride back to HQ– nerves buzzing, eyes tired.

The first one was Yoru. Iso pulled the trigger with ease, even when something screamed in the back of his mind to hesitate. He couldn’t afford to. These were the moments he had spent hours in the range preparing for, because their counterparts kept coming back. 

They would always come back. 

This is what he was built for. This was something he could do in his sleep. Don’t think, just shoot– it was the mindset that got him through the Scions of Hourglass, and it would get him through this. 

In a way, it became easier. It was a mindless violence, barely soothed by the concept he was doing some kind of greater good. In reality, he knew they were all fighting for something good, something better and more honorable than simply being a fixer. 

He watched the other agents take out versions of themselves, versions of their friends, with little to no hesitation. That same confidence began to bleed into him.

So then why, upon seeing Gekko’s face staring back at him through the amber filter of his crosshairs, did the voice screaming in the back of his mind finally win?

He was face-to-face with Gekko’s mirror self, his enemy, and he let him go. Funny, he thought, that the Gekko didn’t even hesitate to put a bullet through his shoulder. 

There was something familiar about the ache in his chest after that fight. He had felt it before when his contracts began to blend into one another, when he felt he couldn’t go a single day without someone’s blood on his hands. There was a phantom tremor in his hand from the recoil of his gun. A bone-deep exhaustion, unearthed by the constant fight for his life. 

He remembered Sage pressing cool hands against his shoulder, drowning out the pain of flesh and blood, but the ache didn’t stop.

Why didn’t he shoot? Why couldn’t he shoot? What was wrong with him?

These questions rattled Iso’s mind as he sat on the edge of his bed, trying to fix his broken earbuds. They had given out, finally— right in the middle of a song, too. Iso groaned in frustration. 

Without the low droning of his music, the quiet in his room felt unbearable. There was nothing to distract him, nothing to keep him from latching onto irrational thoughts in a loop. He just kept thinking about the battles. Imagining the ways he might fail his team. 

Imagining Gekko’s wide brown eyes eclipsed by amber crosshairs. 

Iso caught himself slipping and forced himself to go on a walk. He tried to think about the good things: he was well-fed from dinner, he was safe on the base, and his friends were safe too. He had finally finished Deadlock’s book, Cypher had let him play a round of chess (even if brief), and Brimstone congratulated him for his hard work after each mission. 

Rationally, everything was fine. It was fine. 

Still, it felt like his thoughts were in a blender. He couldn’t stop thinking about his “friends” drenched in blue and red hues– the gunshots. He couldn’t stop his heart from racing. He imagined he probably looked deranged, wandering the halls with quick breaths and wide eyes, standing outside of someone’s door like a lost puppy. 

That’s when he realized he was in front of someone’s door: Gekko’s. 

His fist was already clenched, and he was knocking before he had the chance to stop himself. Iso’s stomach dropped. He waited, pressing a hand to his previously wounded shoulder. Eyes glued to the floor, he focused on nothing, until the door opened and that nothing was replaced by two feet.

Iso first took note of Gekko’s socks. They were mismatched– one blue, one polka dot. His mind took note of the details, clinging to them. When he looked up at Gekko’s face, he almost flinched.

“Oh, hey man,” Gekko said, rubbing one eye. He was in his pajamas, but judging from the flashing lights in the room behind him, he hadn’t been sleeping. “What’s up?”

Iso tried to think of a single excuse. He tried thinking of anything he could say that would sound better than the truth, but the second he met Gekko’s eyes, he knew he couldn’t lie. He would see right through to his bones.

“My earbuds broke,” Iso said, quietly.

Gekko studied him for a moment, his eyes so gentle that Iso had to look away. He knew it wasn’t pity– it was concern, but he couldn’t take it.

Gekko took a step back, holding the door open for him. “Come in,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Dude.” Gekko waved his hand again, persistent. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, or like, twenty ghosts. It’s fine, I promise.”

Iso clamped his mouth shut and followed him inside.

Gekko’s bedroom was a bit larger than his own, probably to account for his creatures. Iso could already see the hints of them throughout the space– little blankets, pillows, places where Wingman or the others might be able to curl up and rest. Iso imagined Gekko setting them up, making sure each one was just right for his pals.

The TV was on, flashing brightly the menu of some video game, and the couch that sat across from it was simple, brown, and half-covered by a multi-colored quilt. The sheets on Gekko’s bed were unmade, but it looked comfortable, like a nest. Iso’s chest ached again. Posters and photos were haphazardly scattered around the room, breathing life into the otherwise cold metal walls. 

“Do you like it?” Gekko asked.

“It’s big,” Iso said. “It’s way more decorated than mine.”

“I tried my best.”

Iso could tell. Every item, every detail, it all screamed Gekko . Colorful, vibrant, and strangely cute. Huh .

Iso cleared his throat. “I like it, Gekko. It’s cozy.” 

Gekko clapped him on the shoulder and squeezed, that familiar warmth of his hand seeping through. Iso squeezed his eyes shut. It felt like the only thing tethering him to the floor.

“Let’s sit down,” Gekko said, softer. 

Gekko led an exhausted Iso to the well-worn couch, plopping down beside him with a grunt. Iso watched him quietly, still feeling like an absolute intruder. He clasped his hands in his lap to stop himself from fidgeting.

“Were you in the middle of a game?” Iso asked.

“I was taking a break actually,” Gekko told him. “It’s a good thing you stopped by.”

Iso pressed his lips into a thin line, attempting and failing to smile. He wondered how much of this was Gekko being genuine, and how much was just to make him feel better. Gekko nudged his shoulder again, instantly snapping him out of his own head.

“I mean it,” Gekko said, as if he could hear Iso’s thoughts. 

Iso took a breath. “Don’t let me stop you. I want to watch you play.”

Gekko seemed to light up, kicking up his legs to sit crossed-legged, snatching the controller from the coffee table. 

“Oh man, where to even start…”

Gekko began explaining the concept of the game to Iso, showing him the different playable characters, the weapons, the silly cosmetics, giggling as he went. Iso asked a few questions here and there, about his favorite parts of it, because he found himself enjoying the way Gekko bounced in his seat each time he did. It became easier to focus on just this moment, pretending like nothing else existed but him, this room, and Gekko’s excited rambling. 

At some point, Wingman had crawled out of hiding, jumping onto Gekko’s back to watch the game alongside them both. Iso’s eyes flickered back and forth between the screen and Gekko’s face. 

It was a strange sight: a little yellow creature (he always wondered what Wings felt like.. jelly, maybe?) clinging to the shoulders of a boy absolutely immersed in a screen. Gekko had a habit of sticking out his tongue when he focused. Iso noticed it when they did target practice together, and now as he tried to execute the perfect combo. The way his brows furrowed in deep concentration.

“You good?” Gekko asked, and Iso realized he had been staring at him far longer than he meant to.

Iso swallowed, his white-knuckled hands grasping tighter in his lap. 

He laughed, short. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Iso sighed. “I feel ridiculous.”

“Why?” Gekko asked. Wingman was looking at him now too. Great.

Why? Iso focused his eyes on the corner of the TV. 

“I just…” He hesitated, but forced himself to push through the mental wall. It was safe here. Secrets were meaningless. “I don’t get it. Everyone else is… doing fine. What am I doing wrong?”

Gekko set the controller in his lap. “Hey, we all have rough days,” he said. “You’re not doing something wrong.”

“It just feels like my head won’t shut up.”

“How can I help?” The question almost made Iso laugh. It was such a Gekko thing to ask. 

“This is more than enough,” Iso said, closing his eyes. He felt the dark rings beneath them. “The talking and the game. It fills in the blank space.”

Gekko laughed quietly, teasing. “If you wanted me to talk to you about video games, you just had to ask.”

“Clearly I’ve been missing out.”

“You have, Iso. I’m an amazing host.” 

Gekko happily started another match, the background music filling the room once again. Wingman flopped down from his shoulder to lay flat against the couch cushion. He fell asleep so easily, it made Iso jealous. 

Gekko glanced at Iso, puffing out his cheeks. “I’m happy to sit here and play, but… if you wanna talk about stuff, the missions, whatever, I can listen too. No judgment here.”

Iso nodded, his movements slow. 

The two of them were content with no words for a while. Iso allowed himself to lean back, slinging an arm over the back of the couch for balance. Already he felt some of the worry leaving his body, even if the rest of it clung to him like rust. He didn’t know how to begin to scrape it away. His eyes began to unfocus.

“I’m tired,” Iso said, absently. Gekko gave him a look that conveyed he knew Iso meant it in more ways than one. 

“Here, you can lay down,” Gekko said, sliding forward to sit on the floor before Iso could protest. He leaned his back against the front of the couch, giving Iso enough space to lay on his side. The exhaustion was beginning to weigh him down, and Iso found he didn’t have the energy to refuse the offer, not when the room was so warm. Not when Gekko’s voice was so gentle.

“Thanks,” Iso whispered. He sighed as he fell to his side, and he swore he saw Gekko tense at the sound. 

Gekko swallowed. “You can use the blanket, too. It’s soft.”

Another kindness Iso was too weak to resist, already in the process of throwing the quilt around his shoulders. It felt handmade. A few of the threads were beginning to fray. On the TV, Gekko had lost his first round of the session. He sighed, accepting, and started again.

“You know what’s funny?” Iso began, watching Gekko’s character pummel another. “I still haven’t fought my mirror self yet. I haven’t even seen him.”

Gekko glanced at him again, their faces closer like this. “That’s weird. Our worlds are supposed to be kinda different, right?”

“That’s what Sage told me.”

“Maybe this is the world where you joined VALORANT, and in that world you didn’t,” Gekko offered. Iso supposed the logic made sense, even if the prospect seemed a little bleak. Was this really the only universe where he escaped to a better purpose? 

“Maybe he’s just dead.”

“Don’t say that,” Gekko said flatly. 

“Either way, I’m here and he’s not. I think I win.”

Gekko giggled. “It’s kinda like, Iso versus The Cooler Iso.”

“Shut up.” Iso’s lips twitched into a smile.

“I’m speaking only facts,” Gekko said, shrugging. “Other Gekko doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Iso felt his throat close up. Other Gekko. The memory of that mission was still so fresh in his mind. He studied Gekko’s profile, illuminated by the vibrant colors of the TV, and he could only see that same gentle smile through the barrel of his gun.

“I let someone go,” Iso said, bluntly. He noticed Gekko’s jaw tense, just barely. 

“You mean an Omega agent, right?” the other asked.

“Yes,” Iso said. “I couldn’t take the shot.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“I’ve never not taken the shot, Gekko.”

“Never?”

Iso bit his lip. “Once before,” he admitted.

I’ve killed so many people is what he wanted to say, but it would sound foolish– every agent had killed, countless times, but Iso’s contract targets never came back .

Gekko glanced at him out of the corner of his eye but stayed quiet, giving him the space to continue if he wanted. Iso opened his mouth, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the words to come out. The two sat in silence for a long moment.

Iso thought about Gekko in combat, about him shooting to kill. He wondered if he might hesitate to shoot Iso’s mirror-self, wherever he may be. 

He hoped he wouldn’t.

“Why are you here?” Iso asked, eyes glued to Gekko’s. 

He blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“Here, in VALORANT,” Iso said, muffled by the blanket. He was too tired to mince words. “You’re not like the rest.”

Gekko peeled his eyes away from the game, staring at Iso with an unreadable expression. He didn’t seem to need any further explanation. 

“Ah… Well, you’re right. I’m not much of a fighter, but I wanna do good, you know?” He bit his lip, and Iso wondered if he had ever said this outloud before. He leaned on his side, now, pressed close against the front of the couch.

Gekko sighed.  “I won’t lie, man. It’s really hard, sometimes. Like, I feel like I have to try so hard just to barely push through. Not to mention how easy everyone else makes it look, like you.” 

“I don’t want to be complimented,” Iso mumbled.

“Too bad,” Gekko said, with no real bite. “But it wears all of us down. I can see it on your face as much as you try to push past it.”

Iso realized– it was the second time Gekko had made him speechless. His voice was quiet now. They were close enough that even a whisper was enough.

“It’s why I wanna be someone my friends can rely on to keep them going. I’m never going to be the strongest, or the fastest, or even have the highest kill count. I don’t really want that,” Gekko continued, staring down at his fidgeting hands. His eyes kept flickering back and forth, like he couldn’t decide where to look. The game was long since lost. “At the end of the day I just want to do good and keep the people I care about alive. That’s why I’m here.”

Iso felt foolish hearing Gekko’s answer out loud, because now the reason seemed so obvious. It was the core of who Gekko was. Someone who shared his joy with others. Someone you never knew you needed until you basked in their endless light. 

Iso’s eyelids began to droop.

“I’m glad you are here, Gekko,” Iso whispered.

Maybe he could stay like this forever— bathing in the soft light of the TV, listening to Gekko explain in a gentle voice how to execute a perfect combo. He could let his mind drift away under the safety of this blanket that smells like hair dye and something otherworldly, probably Dizzy, or Mosh, who he imagines curled up in the crook of his elbow. If only for a moment he could pretend he didn’t have to leave in the morning, maybe he could learn to let himself relax. Maybe he could just be .  

“Why are you so nice to me?” Iso asked on a whim, guided by his stupid, half-awake brain.

Gekko laughed, his breath tickling Iso’s nose. “You’re my friend. I care about you.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

Iso finally let his eyes flutter shut, too tired to keep them open. He thought he sensed Gekko lean closer, his low voice brushing close to his ear. 

“It’s Mateo.”

Mateo. Iso repeated the name in his head, thinking of soft neon lights, laughter, and brown eyes– until his mind drifted to a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Text

Life was different without his music. 

It wasn’t completely gone— Iso managed to acquire a backup pair of earbuds from Phoenix, but the quality was significantly worse, and the noise-canceling wasn’t nearly as strong. He held onto his old pair for sentimental value, but somehow managed to lose one of the buds. Just his luck.

Still, it got the job done on those quiet nights.

And when it wasn’t enough, Iso had something better to fill the void: trading songs with Raze, target practice with Sova, or listening to Deadlock tell him all about her newest book. Game nights with Gekko had also become more frequent. Iso was often dragged away from training in the evenings, one arm grasped by his friend, his pant leg pulled by Wingman. 

Gekko taught him the basics, but Iso was always a fast learner. By their second night of playing, he was already able to keep up with him, bringing out a surprisingly competitive side of Gekko. 

“It’s getting late,” Iso would say, showing no signs of exhaustion. Gekko would pout, using Wingman’s big cuddly body as ammunition, urging him to stay just a little longer.

“One more?” 

Iso rolled his eyes and didn’t even try to hide his smile. “One more.”

It was never just one more. 

It was the little things that built up over time that gave Iso moments to breathe— moments where he felt human again. He still fought, and he still gave his all in every mission, but now he felt like there was a balance. Moments for violence. Moments for peace. 

He never felt alone, and for the first time in his life, that thought didn’t fill him with a dreadful paranoia. He welcomed the new experiences. It wasn’t so scary anymore, not when he had someone like Gekko at his side. 

Not when he had Sage motion him over after breakfast one slow morning, her smile bright.

“Iso,” she began, and Iso was thankful to speak once again in their native language. “It’s been a while since I checked in. How are things?”

Iso cleared his throat. “It’s going well,” he admitted. “It’s… ah, it’s getting easier.”

“Easier?”

“The missions.”

Sage nodded. Hey eyes held a deep understanding. “I see.”

Iso began to wonder if she really approached him out of the blue, or if someone had put her up to this. Someone mischievous, with a small yellow accomplice, perhaps.

“Why do you ask?” he said, eyes darting between Sage and the door.

“You may be surprised to hear this, Iso, but everyone has had their fair share of issues regarding our fights against Omega agents, myself included.” Sage pressed her hand against his arm. It was cool, like her radiance. 

“Oh.”

“I will never pressure you to speak on it,” Sage continued, “but my room is always open to anyone who needs to talk. You are always welcome.” 

Okay, maybe he had gotten ahead of himself. There were definitely a few things that scared him half to death, and admitting his flaws to his superior was one of them. He felt as if two sides of his brain were at war: one half determined to push through until the anxieties went away, the other yearning for a place to tell someone everything.

Iso took a shaky breath. “Thank you, Sage. I’ll think about it.”

“Of course.”

Sage had left him standing in the kitchen alone, his mind racing with a new set of turbulent thoughts. He played another song to drown them out.

***

VALORANT was different from Hourglass in countless ways, but vacation time was certainly something new. When Iso’s friends dragged him along for a night away from HQ, how could he say no? 

The night market was beautiful this time of year, and in many ways it reminded Iso of home– the glowing red lanterns, the delicious smells of food from every vendor stall, and the constant hum of chatter and laughter that echoed through the streets.

Their group wasn’t very large in order to not draw too much attention. Iso spent too much time on their ride over counting their numbers, mentally assessing their strengths and weaknesses. How ridiculous, he thought, that he was preparing for a fight when all they wanted to do was eat dinner. 

Regardless, he felt confident with these agents: Jett, Phoenix, Yoru, Neon, and Gekko. 

 This was all Phoenix’s idea, apparently. Iso could tell from the way he slung both arms around Jett and Yoru upon arrival, it must be true. 

“Now this is what I’m talkin’ about!” Phoenix said, radiating excitement. He looked as thought he belonged there, the reds and golds of his outfit matched the market decorations perfectly. 

Yoru slipped out of his grasp. “You’re like a bird out of his cage,” he said. “Loud.”

“Oh my god, it’s been five seconds,” Neon said, and Gekko laughed. The sound soothed Iso, and he felt his nerves beginning to relax. 

He had asked Gekko, before their arrival, if he should come armed. Initially he worried the question would come across as ridiculous– who brings a gun to dinner? But Gekko was patient, assuring him that he didn’t have to worry.

“You can if you want, Iso,” Gekko said, shrugging. “But like, we’re gonna be all together, ya know? I’m sure even if something does go wrong, we can handle it.”

Iso weighed his options and realized Gekko was right. What did five radiants and a boy with pets of questionable origin have to fear? Still, Iso’s hand brushed against the empty space on his thigh, feeling lost without the weight of his pistol. He shoved his hand into his pocket instead.

Gekko nudged him, just barely, snapping Iso back to the present. He blinked, a silent gratitude in the look they shared. He always knew when Iso was slipping too far inside his own head.

“Alright, guys,” Jett said, bouncing on her toes, “Brim is still a little upset about our spendings last time we went out.”

Gekko looked guilty. “Oops.”

“So let’s just try not to go too crazy, alright?” 

“I still can’t believe you went without me,” Phoenix said. “I mean really? Without me?”

“You didn’t miss much,” Jett replied, patting his shoulder. “Just the best food I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

Phoenix groaned as his friends giggled, and Iso found himself smiling too. Gekko nudged his shoulder again, speaking quietly.

“It was pretty good,” Gekko said. “I can take you to that place sometime, ya know, if you promise to keep it a secret.”

Iso glanced covertly to the trio beside them, Yoru and Jett poking fun at their fiery friend. All three of them were smiling, distracted. 

“I’ll take you up on that offer, yeah,” Iso said, turning his head back to meet Gekko’s eyes. He watched him smile that same toothy grin. “Thanks, Mateo.”

The name was so easy to say now, but everytime it felt like something flipped in his stomach. Maybe he liked the sound, or maybe it was the way he saw Gekko’s eyes flash with adoration— Iso couldn’t tell. 

In all honesty, he tried not to spend too long deciphering how it made him feel. 

“Hell yeah!” Gekko shook his arm, and Iso felt whatever tension was left in his body melt away entirely. It would be a good night. He knew it. 

Neon poked her head over Gekko’s shoulder, an inquisitive glint in her eye. 

“How long do you think it will take for Phoenix and Yoru to arm wrestle in the street?” she asked.

“I’ll give it another five minutes,” Gekko said. “Six if Jett is watching.”

Iso clenched his fists in his pockets to keep them warm, taking in another deep breath. The smell of strong spices clung to the air. 

“Do they always bicker?” Iso asked. 

Neon nodded, her hair bouncing. “Like an old married couple.”

A thought struck Iso– for as long as he had been a part of the protocol, he had never really had any issues with the other agents. Reyna seemed distant, but she was that way with everyone except Gekko. 

He supposed the closest he’d come to bickering was with Gekko late at night over their games, but even that felt lighthearted, and it was fun. It was different, right?

His eyes trailed over to Phoenix and Yoru again, who were now peeking into a window display with Jett. Phoenix cracked a joke, and both of them tried to stifle a laugh.

“They must all be good friends,” Iso said, earnest. 

Gekko and Neon shared a look. Iso suddenly felt like he was missing something very, very important.

“Yeah, something like that,” Neon said, patting Iso’s shoulder. 

Iso tilted his head, on the verge of connecting the dots when Gekko jumped in to save him.

“Guys!” Gekko shouted across the way, grabbing the attention of the trio. “Come on, we’re starving! Let’s eat.”

***

There was something magical about sharing a meal with others.

Iso couldn’t really remember the last time he had a feast. The agents often cooked together– little things, simple enough to prevent burning the base down– or ate in close proximity, catching each other in passing as everyone’s schedules seemed to vary wildly. Even in those small moments, Iso appreciated the company. 

Although it was nothing like this. 

The table before them all was filled to the brim with various, colorful dishes, each one steaming in the chilled night air. Fresh fish, dumplings, spring rolls, sweet fruit, bowls of noodles and warm soup–  Iso had never seen anything like it before. He felt ravenous.

“Oh my god,” Neon said, already filling her plate with dumplings. “We’re definitely over budget.”

“Don’t think about that right now,” Gekko said, joining her, “just embrace it. Embrace the dumplings…”

The group descended into a stream of excited, hushed words, plucking at the food in the center of the table like little birds. They filled their plates, not hesitating in the slightest to take a single night to indulge. It felt wonderful to relax, truly relax, for even just a few hours.  

Iso heard them all talking, and in the beginning he did try to listen. But the warmth of his meal began to spread through his body, and soon all he could focus on was the memories that clawed at the edges of his mind. The familiar taste. The familiar warmth. 

“I don’t remember the last time I had tangyuan,” Iso said, loud enough for Gekko to hear, unable to peel his eyes off the bowl. The rice balls floated in a ginger syrup, perfectly round, and it reminded him of stones in a river.

Gekko tilted his head. “Do you think I’d like it?”

Iso took another bite, savoring the nostalgic taste. It was sweet– the texture a bit gooey, just as he remembered. He pressed his fingers against the side of the bowl, warming them. 

“I think you would,” Iso admitted. “It’s sweet.”

“Like me?” 

Iso nearly choked on his next bite. 

Gekko giggled, plucking one of the sweet rice balls off the center plate for himself. “Just messing with you.”

Iso watched Gekko take a bite of the tangyuan, his eyes widening once he got to the sesame filling.

Iso held his breath. “Do you like it?” he asked, wondering why he felt so nervous.

“Holy shit,” Gekko said, already reaching for another. “I love this.”

Iso let out a short laugh of relief, watching Gekko spoon out another three rice balls into his small ceramic bowl. The image burned itself into his mind. It was the first time he had shared a piece of his past with another agent. 

And they loved it?

Iso let the steam swirl into his face. “My nainai– my grandmother, she used to make this,” he explained, only for Gekko.

Gekko met his eyes. “I bet they were better than these, then?”

“Yeah,” Iso said, his eyes drawn back to the bowl. “But maybe I’m biased.”

“Food from home is always better, man,” Gekko said. “You should see what my mom whips up when we have visitors. It’s out of this world.”

Words died in Iso’s throat. It felt too forward to pry, as much as he wanted to know, as much as he wished that he could visit Gekko’s real home. What would his family be like? The thought terrified him.

Not because he was afraid of the answer. He was afraid of why he wanted to know so badly in the first place. Tiān nǎ .

The six of them had torn through the feast in record time. 

“Well, what was your favorite, everyone?” Phoenix asked the group, stretching his long arms over his head..

Jett leaned back in her seat. “Definitely the dumplings.”

“Yeah, but did you try the spring rolls?” Neon asked.

“You’re both wrong,” Yoru interrupted. “It’s the nian gao.”

He gestured to the remnants of the rice cake. Iso could still taste the sweet rice on his tongue.

“You know, I actually agree with Ryo,” Phoenix said, poking the man beside him.

Ryo. The name helped them feel less like a group of killers, and more like a group of friends. Iso committed it to memory.

“Did I say nian gao?” Yoru deadpanned, “I meant the fish.”

“Woooow.”

The group burst into a fit of laughter. Jett pressed her forehead against Phoenix’s shoulder as she doubled over, and Yoru looked smug as ever. Phoenix pouted, but the smile soon caught up to him, luminent as it was begrudging. He slapped Yoru’s shoulder.

The hanging lights above them cast golden light upon their faces, and Iso found his eyes kept flickering to Gekko. The warm colors suited him, he thought, especially when the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed, or when his eyes caught the light just right. 

Maybe it was his hair that made him stand out so much. Maybe that was why Iso kept staring, admiring the innocent joy that spread across his features, infectious. But… Neon was here, and Yoru, too. 

Aren’t they just as eye-catching? Wait.

“Guys,” Neon interrupted, “I really wanna go shopping before we leave. Please?”

She planted her palms against the table, practically bouncing in her seat. 

“How do you still have so much energy?” Jett asked. “I feel like I could nap right here.” 

Phoenix was practically a human radiator, so Iso was sure that didn’t help the staying-awake thing. 

“I wanna look around too,” Gekko said, and Neon silently pumped her fist. Gekko was smiling, but Iso could tell something about it was tense. Nervous. 

Was something wrong?

Iso spoke fast. “I’ll join you.”

“Alright, alright,” Phoenix laughed. “The three of you can head out for a bit. We’ll meet you back here later.”

“Yes!” Neon hopped up from her seat, visibly restraining herself from speed-boosting out the door. 

Gekko looked at Iso, sheepish, as he headed for the exit. The look didn’t suit him. 

Iso was greeted by a crisp chill in the air. The market street was much colder without the warmth of fresh food. Still, he followed close behind Gekko, wondering if the other could sense the hole he was staring into the back of his neck.

Phoenix, Yoru and Jett had left the restaurant too, gathering beneath the glowing sign out front. Neon was already across the street, hands clasped behind her back as she eyed the displays with ravenous hunger. 

Iso squinted, struggling to catch what she was looking at– clothing, maybe? It distracted him long enough for Gekko to sneak up beside him.

“Hey, Iso,” he said, gently poking his arm. “Come over here a sec.”

Iso eyed him, curious, but obliged. Gekko led them a few stalls away from their friends, although Iso could still see them. He noticed Yoru and Jett bickering over something, their eyes catching his own before they turned away quickly.

Were they talking about him?

“What is it?” Iso asked, trying to ignore the tension in his chest. Gekko was obviously nervous too, judging by the way his eyes refused to stay in one place.

Gekko took a slow breath, scratching the back of his neck. “Okay, well, remember how your earbuds broke a while back?”

Iso held his tongue, his eyes now focused on Gekko’s hands. He was fidgeting with something. 

“Well, I had Wingman steal one of the old buds– sorry, by the way– but I gave it to Killjoy to look over, and, well…”

Gekko opened his hands, revealing a small purple box. It was simple on the outside, no larger than the palm of his hand, but written in black marker on the top was: “To: Iso.” 

Speechless, Iso reached for the box, his fingertips brushing against Gekko’s palm. 

“Mateo,” he breathed. Iso knew what would be inside, but he wasn’t sure he could find the strength to open it. 

“Go ahead, man,” Gekko said, his voice bright with his smile. “I think you’ll like them.”

Iso lifted the lid, staring down at nearly a perfect replica of his old earbuds. This pair was sleek, with a few added purple inlays, but contained Killjoy’s signature, colorful flair. 

“No way,” he said, stunned. “They’re perfect.”

Gekko let out a sign of relief, and Iso wondered how he could have ever doubted himself.

“I mean it, Mateo. I love these.” He surprised even himself with the power in his voice, but he meant every word.

“I’m so glad,” Gekko laughed. “Killjoy worked really hard on them.”

Iso imagined Gekko taking one of the stolen buds to KJ's corner of the workshop. She could only do so much- Gekko must have told her the specifications, he must have told her how much Iso would love the added purple lights, to replicate the perfect curve to fit his ear. Gekko must have known exactly what he wanted.

Iso shook his head, captivated by the gift. “It was your idea.”

“You make a fair point,” Gekko said, tapping his chin. “You gonna try them out?”

Iso hesitated, brushing a thumb over the box.

“I will later, I think. I wanna listen to you right now,” he said, and then eyes wide, continued, “and everyone else. We’re here to hang out, after all.” 

Gekko raised a brow at his comment, his grin wide.

“Of course, dude. There’s no rush. We’ve got like, the entire ride back to base to trade some tunes.”

Iso tucked the box safely into his jacket pocket, his hand pressed against it for a quiet moment. 

“I look forward to your recommendations, then.”

Gekko laughed, grabbing Iso’s sleeve with both hands, tugging him along into the lantern-lit streets. Iso followed him without hesitation.

***

Iso was beginning to realize why Gekko and Neon were such a powerful combination: their energy was almost intolerable. 

The two of them spoke with a frantic passion, jumping between stalls like it was their last night on earth. Despite their intensity, Gekko never left Iso behind, always gesturing him along as they changed focus every thirty seconds.

The meal had made Iso quite tired, and he could feel it in his languid movements. The cool breeze, the warm lantern light, and the sound of his friends giggling– he was beginning to relate a lot to Jett. 

That was until he saw a glint of light out of the corner of his eye. 

It was faint– a flash of silver peeking out between two strips of leather. Iso’s eyes snapped to the origin, and he grew rigid.

Stalking the edge of the street was someone familiar. An Hourglass agent, leaning calmly against a graffitied wall, something concealed beneath his jacket. Even from this distance, Iso knew:

He was looking directly at him. At them.

The agent tilted his head, almost imperceptibly, his face lacking any emotion at all. One terrible thought crossed Iso’s mind, and his instincts took over. 

It was like a flame dying. It was like a wave pulling him under. 

Beside him, his friends laughed.

“Do you think I should get this one?” Neon asked, holding up a red charm bracelet. 

Gekko studied it. “Don’t you think it would break easily-”

“I need to get some air.” Iso spoke with a neutral tone. Even now, he felt his vision tunneling, the sounds and lights beginning to dull in the edges of his eyes.

The voices of his friends died out.

“Are you alright, man?” Gekko asked, but Iso wasn’t looking at him anymore. 

He slipped back into his old persona like a bullet through a chamber. 

“I’ll be right back,” Iso promised, and began to walk calmly towards the edge of the market. Gekko reached for him.

“Iso?”

Iso looked at him without turning his head, and part of him ached when he saw Gekko freeze. He felt something sparking under his skin.

“Please , Mateo,” he pleaded, strained, behind the fabric of his hoodie. 

Apparently, that was enough, and Gekko pulled back long enough to let Iso go.

He tried not to think about the risk. He tried not to think about the empty holster at his side, or his friends resting happily in the market streets. 

Iso thought about his next target, and how he saw the edge of their coat disappear beyond the alley. He thought about eliminating the threat before it had a chance to strike. 

Because for once in his life, Iso had something he was ready to protect.

Chapter Text

Following the agent was the easy part. Iso had done this dance hundreds of times before– a calm, steady walk towards what should be a clean kill. Trash-littered sidewalks lined his path into the alley, and he stopped just short of the back wall.

Iso took another slow breath. His veins pulsed.

Contracts were not taken lightly– each one was a promise of a life ended. For his own sake, Iso had stopped counting at Hourglass. They simply became a routine, like muscle memory guiding him forward. 

The music dulled the sounds, his radiance took care of the rest. 

He remembered the first, how his hands shook from the adrenaline, his aim unsteady. An alley unlike this, secluded, quiet. Iso could still hear the bustling city streets just around the corner. It unsettled him to think of the damage a stray bullet might cause.

He would have never struck at a time like this. This agent must be new, or even worse– desperate. 

“So, you’re here to kill me?” Iso said at a moment into the empty space. 

When Iso turned around, the agent was standing before him, rather unremarkably. He recognized the gear– sleek, nondescript. He blended in, by all accounts, just as the perfect assassin should. The man spoke with a low voice.

“I wish it was that simple. I really do.”

Iso couldn’t stop his frown. There were only so many possible outcomes.

“To capture me?” Iso asked instead.

“Something like that,” the man said, shrugging. He stood in the center of the alley, essentially blocking the way out. “Although, I think a nice chat will do us some good.”

Iso’s eyes felt electric as he scanned the walls around them. They truly were alone. 

Iso scoffed. “You chose a crowded night market to make your move?”

“And you’ve never endangered the lives of others to complete a contract?”

Iso felt his fingertips twitch. The air was heavy, again. 

“Your boss is dead. I helped take him down,” Iso said, his tone even. He refused to let his emotions slip– not now. 

“Aren’t you clever?” the agent said, pacing forward with relaxed steps. It was clear he didn’t feel threatened in the slightest.  “You can cut the head off a snake, but it will always grow back. Someone always fills the void.”

Iso stared at him, wondering if the agent felt his eyes burn against his face like they did in his own skull. 

“We’re willing to negotiate your return.”

“I think I made my message pretty clear the first time,” Iso said.

To prove his point, Iso spun his hand, drawing energy from the air around him. It circled his hand, volatile, crackling like glass.

“Li Zhao Yu,” the agent said, his tone serious, “you were one of our top agents. You understand that, yes?”

Iso’s hand shook from the exertion of his powers, the violet threads shattering against his palm. No one had spoken his real name in ages– the sound of it unsettled something deep inside of him. It felt like a violation.

“I’ve already told VALORANT everything,” Iso said, frustration seeping through despite his best efforts. He heard the laughter of families around the corner. “There’s nothing left to salvage.”

Iso felt a fire burning behind his irises, lucent and dangerous. The agent looked him directly in his eyes, calm, with the same casual energy Iso had used hundreds of times before a kill. It was like looking in a warped mirror. Infuriating.

“There’s you,” the agent said.

Iso’s blood ran cold. “Don’t take a single step closer.”

He watched the agent come to a stop in the middle of the alley. The man blinked, as if he was bored. “I know you’re unarmed.”

Iso’s lip curled. “I have more than bullets to get the job done.”

What would it feel like to kill with his radiance? Iso wasn’t even sure if it was possible– he had never felt the effects of his own abilities. All he knew was the burning in his hands when he held his energy for too long. He felt that burn now, festering beneath his gloves. 

They stared at each other, for a long, painful moment. Iso’s body trembled with radiance, and he felt it in his throat. He felt it in his bones. The agent’s hand pressed calmly against his belt. 

“Ah, then I think we’re done here,” the agent said smoothly, but something was wrong .

Iso felt it before he could see it. 

He felt the faint tremor in the ground, broken bottles and trash rattling as the noise grew closer, louder . The sound reminded Iso of a snake slithering along cracked tiles, searching, hunting for prey. Iso took a step back, his heel pressing against the alley wall.

It happened in slow motion.

A pink shark, encased in familiar black shelling and golden aura, lurched around the corner at full speed. It pounced off the street and splattered bright against Iso’s assailant. The man yelled, knocked hard against the ground from the impact. His limp body was trapped under golden threads.

Iso blinked, eyes wide, trying to process the scene. Gekko nearly slipped as he turned the corner, breathing hard. 

“Nice one, Thrash!” he shouted, already running towards the gooey remains of his pal. It gravitated back into his harness, leaving the man groaning on the street.

The energy in Iso’s hands vanished. “ Gekko? ” 

“Come on!” Gekko shouted, grabbing his wrist. “Run!”

Gekko pulled Iso after him before he had a chance to think, and within seconds Iso was running too, his feet moving faster than his thoughts. He was met by an onslaught of streaking neon lights, the smell of fresh meals in vendor’s stalls, the heavy sound of his own breathing. Gekko’s grip on his wrist was tight, and it was at that moment he realized just how fast this boy could move.

Gekko looked back at him over his shoulder, his eyes wide, mouth curled into a hesitant smile. Iso felt the adrenaline like electricity in his veins. Despite their desperate escape, and despite what felt like the entire world passing by, Iso felt like he had never seen Gekko so clearly. 

He saw the reflection of lanterns on his eyes, the wild tufts of green hair blown flat against his scalp, and he felt that same, comforting warmth of his hand against his wrist. The energy of Gekko’s tattoo was thrumming under his skin, as if his entire body was alight with that swirling energy. Iso felt it too– pulsing. 

Iso began to laugh, breathless. It rattled out of him like waves against a cliff, sudden and shaky. He couldn’t stop it. Gekko looked shocked before he broke into own fit of laughter, stumbling forward. The two kept running further along the street, leaving the alley far behind them, Gekko leading him the entire way. 

Soon they had made it back to the main plaza, breaking free of a backstreet in a blur of green and purple. They both nearly crashed into a vendor’s stand, stumbling. The lantern lights flickered.

Iso held his hands against his knees as he caught his breath. His throat burned from exertion and laughter. He couldn’t remember the last time he had run for his life, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find the feeling exciting. Just a little. 

Gekko mirrored him, leaning against the wall as he slowed his labored breathing. For a moment, it was the only sound either of them could hear. 

That was, until Gekko punched his shoulder, hard .

“Are you out of your mind?!” Gekko shouted, brows furrowed. “What were you thinking running off by yourself like that?”

Iso’s eyes widened. He had never once heard Gekko sound so genuinely upset– so angry.

“I…” Iso caught his breath. “I didn’t want to involve you guys. It was dangerous.”

“Exactly!” Gekko caught the attention of a few shoppers and lowered his voice, his tone still just as intense. “It was dangerous, Iso, and you went alone .”

“I had it under control, Gekko.”

“Did you?”

“Yes,” Iso said, standing to his full height. It helped him feel more in control, even if just for a moment. “Listen. Hourglass is my problem. I can’t ask you to fight my battles.”

Gekko frowned. “You could have told us.”

Iso shook his head. “No, Gekko. This was supposed to be a break from all of that. I couldn’t-”

“You have us , Iso!” Gekko interrupted, grabbing Iso’s shoulders. The warmth of his hands disarmed him, and any further protest died on his tongue. “You don’t have to keep fighting alone, don’t you get that?” 

The pain in Iso’s throat was spreading. He couldn’t explain it, but it felt like he was suffocating, slowly, like being dragged under thick oil. The look in Gekko’s eyes was a vice around his ribs.

“When will you get that?” Gekko said again, quieter, his grip loosening.

Iso had wished in that moment to feel some kind of crushing weight, as if all of his doubts and fears were finally collapsing onto his shoulders– but he only felt a cold, numbing pain. He had tried so hard to keep his friends safe, tried so hard to keep them away from the ghosts of his past, but it only ever led to this. 

It only led to hurting them himself. Iso realized, as Gekko’s hands slid down his arms, that endangering himself was no longer an option, not when he had people in his life who actually cared about him. People who he cared for.

“I’m sorry,” Iso whispered, because it was all he could think to say. “I’m sorry, Mateo. I am.”

Gekko sighed, his eyes dropping to Iso’s chest.  “I know.”

He looked so tired, like this. Iso hated it.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Iso admitted. “I just wanted– I don’t even know what I wanted. I just wanted to keep you all safe.”

I wanted to keep you safe.

Gekko sighed. “Neon can shoot lightning out of her hands.”

Iso nearly laughed. “I know.”

“Phoenix can make walls of fire.” 

“ I know. ”

A smile crept onto Gekko’s lips as he continued. “Yoru can literally travel into the void-”

“I know!” Iso broke into a sheepish laugh, bringing his hands to rest on Gekko’s shoulders. “I know, I know… I’m an idiot.”

“I just need you to promise me you won’t do that again,” Gekko said, his eyes meeting Iso’s. “I’m serious, Iso.”

Iso nodded, firm. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good,” Gekko said, raising a brow, “but I’ll admit, saving you was kinda fun.”

“Was it?” Iso’s stomach flipped.

“Yeah, because I get to hold it over your head for the rest of time.”

Iso barked a laugh. “I deserve that,” he said, and then sighed. “Thank you, Mateo.”

Iso froze. His hands still gripped Gekko’s shoulders, and Gekko’s held his. They were holding each other at arms-length, like children at a middle-school dance, tense and uncertain. Gekko was close, like this. Iso could see the moment he realized it too, his brown eyes wide.

Iso had very little time to process how it made him feel before Gekko ducked his head and pulled him into a hug. 

Gekko’s cheek pressed against his collarbone, tufts of green hair tickling under Iso’s chin. His grip was tight, but Iso felt like he could breathe for the first time that night. 

For the longest moment, Iso wasn’t sure how to react.

His hands trembled. What is this feeling?  

He let his hands fall against Gekko’s shoulders, roaming hesitantly down his back. It felt natural to wrap his arms around Gekko’s body, running his hands over the soft fabric of his vest, brushing against the tattoos on his upper arms.

It was so foreign, but Iso wondered how he could have lived so long without this. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Gekko said, muffled by Iso’s jacket. 

Iso smiled freely, because he knew that no one could see it. “Me too.”

Gekko laughed, and Iso felt it deep in his chest.

 “At least you got to see Thrash.”

Iso let his eyes close, melting into the touch. Exhaustion crept up his spine, and he felt the darkening circles under his eyes. His hands felt raw, tingling from the burn. So much adrenaline, so much exertion of his radiance– it had taken a toll. Though it was hard to care, not when he was being held in a warm embrace. He didn’t even try to think of the last time he was hugged. It didn’t matter anymore.

He only cared about this. This quiet, wonderful moment. 

“She was worth the wait,” Iso whispered.

*** 

Iso and Gekko found Neon back at the jewelry shop. She had bought a few bags of goodies, some for herself and some for friends back at HQ. 

“Where did you run off to?” She asked, suspicious. Iso pressed his lips into a thin line. 

Gekko answered for them both. “I can tell you about it later,” he said, casual. Iso almost sighed with relief. 

“Ominous,” she teased. “Well, we should go find the others.”

“Are they still by the restaurant?” Iso asked.

“Last time I checked.”

The trio left the row of shops that lined the edge of the market and made their way back to the restaurant. The air was still fresh with the smell of noodles, sweet treats and spices. Iso wished they could stay for more if he wasn’t on the verge of collapse himself. 

Phoenix, Yoru and Jett were still resting on a bench outside of the restaurant, but a few things had changed.

Firstly, Jett was wearing Phoenix’s jacket, the warm glow on the inside casting against gold light her cheeks. She leaned fully against Phoenix, her eyes half-shut from the warmth that radiated from his body. His hand rested against her shoulder, rubbing circles with his thumb against the fabric.

Second, Yoru leaned against him too, his expression softer than Iso had ever seen. With one hand he held his phone, scrolling through something as he spoke quietly to Phoenix, the two of them occasionally breaking into quiet laughter, as to not disturb Jett. His other hand held Phoenix’s. As the man in the middle, Phoenix looked peaceful, holding the ones beside him like precious gems.

Iso blinked. “Oh,” he said. “I really am an idiot.”

Gekko and Neon failed to hide their giggling, offering him a pat on the shoulder as consolation. Despite his fumble, the sight filled him with an innocent joy. 

When had he become such a sap?

“Hey y’all,” Gekko chimed as they approached. “Ready to go?”

“Five more minutes,” Jet mumbled, and Phoenix placed a kiss on the crown of her head.

“Come on, you can get plenty of sleep on the ride home,” Phoenix whispered. 

Yoru’s expression hardened once again as the others approached. Iso couldn’t blame him for wanting to keep up appearances– the riftwalker was no softie. 

Yoru pulled his partners to their feet, his hand lingering a moment longer against both of their arms. “Let’s get going, then.”

***

Iso always enjoyed the VLT/R rides to-and-from HQ. The hum of the engines, the dim lighting– it relaxed him. And now, as he sat beside Gekko and opened his new pair of earbuds, he had company to share it with. 

“Remind me to thank Killjoy too,” Iso said, turning the bud in his hand. 

Gekko hugged his knees to his chest, his cheek resting on one leg. He smiled, and Iso felt his gaze burning against his cheek.

“Hey,” Gekko began, voice just above a whisper. “You never told me your name. Like, your real one.”

Iso turned to him. “I haven’t?” he repeated. “It never even crossed my mind, honestly.”

Iso had just been Iso. For Hourglass, and for VALORANT. He was sure that Sage and Brimstone knew his full name, probably Cypher, too. It wasn’t necessarily a secret. His file definitely had all sorts of information about his past, his identity, but he never felt the urge to share it with his friends.

“Why did you wait so long to ask?”

“I didn’t wanna push you,” Gekko admits. The thought was so kind, so undeniably him . Iso felt lightheaded, for some reason. “Also, It’s really fun to say Iso. Ice-Oh…” He exaggerated the syllables. 

Iso felt his face burning, and for once he couldn’t school his expression into something neutral.

He thought about the Hourglass agent speaking his name in that dark alley, how it felt like salt on a wound. It was a piece of himself that he didn’t deserve to know, but Gekko did. Maybe it would sound better from the lips of someone he cared for. 

“My name is Zhao Yu,” he said, and for a moment he wondered if the VLT/R had dropped in altitude. 

“Zhao Yu,” Gekko repeated, slowly, making sure he got it right. “I like it.”

The way Gekko said it– Iso wished he had told him weeks ago. 

Iso huffed a laugh. “Thank you.”

Without thinking, Iso placed one of the earbuds in Gekko’s hand. 

“Help me pick a song?” he asked, hopeful.

Gekko nodded, shifting to scroll through Iso’s phone. After a moment of deliberation, Gekko tapped play on the device, putting in one of the buds.

Blissed out now.

“Pick the next one,” Gekko said, nudging him with his knee. “It’s gonna be a long ride.”

Midnight by the sea.

Iso let the song play for a moment before queuing the next, his eyes growing heavy.

“Thanks, Mateo,” he whispered. “For all of this.”

To kill the noise.

Gekko responded by closing his eyes, a tired smile on his lips.

That’s in my head.

“Anytime, Zhao Yu.”

All the thousand voices go quiet.

Fade 'em out.

Until they’re gone.

Chapter Text

Iso’s meeting with Brimstone and Sage went pretty well, all things considered. 

Gekko insisted on joining him, saying he was basically a witness to the entire situation at the night market, no matter how brief. It would have been easy to say no, if not for the fact Iso was already planning to ask him to join. His eagerness was only a bonus.

It felt good to have Gekko by his side. He made it easier to talk, sometimes, especially when Iso had to talk about himself.  

They entered Brimstone’s office, taking a seat in the two chairs in front of the Commander’s desk. Beside Brimstone, Sage regarded them warmly, but the tension in her jaw said otherwise.

Iso retold the story as best as he could, beginning from the moment he spotted the Hourglass agent. He found it difficult to meet their eyes when he admitted to going off alone, noticing the way Gekko looked at him quickly before turning away.

“So you recognized the attacker?” Sage asked him from across the table.

Iso swallowed. “Yes,” he explained. “I didn’t know his name, but I knew his face.”

“He’s still alive?” Brimstone asked, raising a brow.

The commander was always hard to read– he was one of the few at HQ who actually intimidated Iso. Even now, as he sat across from the boys at his desk, Brimstone’s expression was firm, perceptive. His eyes were glued to Iso for an answer.

“Th-Thrash knocked him out,” Gekko said, stealing the attention. “Then we ran, I guess.” 

Iso glanced at Gekko out of the corner of his eye, remembering the shock he felt watching him blaze around the corner to save him.

“The market was packed,” Iso added. “Killing him wasn’t an option.”

“You did the right thing, even if it seems foolish to let your enemy escape,” Sage told the boys, her gaze softening. “But Iso, do you think this will become a pattern? Will Hourglass keep sending agents?”

“There’s a contract out for me now,” he said, and Gekko shifted in the chair beside him. “Hourglass agents rarely give up.”

Brimstone placed the file he was reading on the desk, sighing. 

“You’re safe on the base. We’ll just have to be careful sending you out on,” Brimstone pinched the bridge of his nose, “ expeditions .”

Iso supposed it made sense. At HQ, he was essentially untraceable. Everyone was.

“So, you’re saying he’s not allowed any more time off?” Gekko interrupted, and Iso gritted his teeth. He glanced between Gekko and their superiors.

“That’s not what we mean,” Sage said. “Iso is more than capable of handling these agents, but it puts the public at risk. We just have to tread carefully. We need to be prepared.”

“I understand,” Iso said, his voice firm. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

Gekko flashed him a sympathetic look. 

“Iso,” Sage said, her tone bleeding authority now. “It was irresponsible to abandon your teammates, especially when their guards were down. Imagine what could have happened if you were taken? No one would have known.”

He saw Gekko fidget, again, his leg bouncing. 

Iso felt the regret gripping his chest again. “I know. I’m sorry,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “It won’t happen again.”

“We’ll have Cypher look into the agent who came after you, and any others that might try,” Brimstone said. “You’re both dismissed.”

Brimstone closed the file in front of him, and the room fell quiet for a painful moment.

“That’s it?” Gekko asked, holding out his hands. “Iso has people out to kill him and that’s all you have to say?”

“Gekko,” Iso said, quietly, putting his hand on Gekko’s arm. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not!” he shouted, startling everyone in the room. “Am I the only one who sees how big of a deal this is?

“We take the safety of our agents very seriously, Gekko,” Sage explained, unfazed by his outburst. “As Brimstone said, we are going to look into it. Iso is safe here. We all protect our own.”

Gekko frowned. Her words seemed to soothe him, just a bit. Iso used his hand to tug Gekko along, pulling him towards the door. As much as he appreciated the support, he dreaded causing any more problems.

“Thank you, Commanders,” Iso said, and bowed his head. 

He closed the office door behind them both, releasing a tense breath of air. It was quiet in this wing of HQ– it allowed them a moment to relax, their nerves in shambles after the meeting.

“I think that went well,” Iso said, trying to smile.

Gekko’s face scrunched up, uncertain. “I guess, yeah.”

“Hey,” Iso began, “thanks for being there. It’ll be okay.”

Gekko leaned against the thick metal wall, crossing his arms. Iso realized he was pouting.

“Mateo?” Iso asked, his tone softer. Gekko’s reaction was instant, his eyes snapping up from the floor.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I think I’m still just… shaken up from the whole thing.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Iso shrugged. “Part of it was.” 

Gekko pursed his lips, staring at him. “I don’t like it when you look all sad.” 

Iso froze, failing to come up with any sort of rebuke. Gekko giggled at his confused expression, his laughter gentle, like ripples in water.

Gekko’s laughter– a sound he had heard hundreds of times by now, at the base, during game nights, even during missions. So why did it suddenly make Iso feel lightheaded, like his hands were weightless, like his chest was full of butterflies?

Gekko nudged Iso’s elbow, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“I’m gonna go chill for a bit,” he said. “You wanna hang later?”

Iso had to focus himself, feeling that bundle of energy inside his chest growing. He smiled a normal amount. 

“Of course. I’ll be around,” he said.

Iso watched Gekko disappear beyond the hallway, surprised to find his nerves still didn’t relax once he was out of sight. In fact, it felt like he didn’t know what to do with himself, like this sudden explosion of energy was still rattling his stomach. 

The stress of the meeting must have been getting to him. Maybe he just needed to let out some pent up energy, he thought, and he knew exactly the place to go. 

***

“I’m definitely more ripped,” KAY/O said to Phoenix’s reflection in the gym’s mirror, flexing his metallic arms.

Phoenix scoffed. “I don’t think it’s fair, mate,” he said. “You’re literally made this way. Out of metal!”

“Sounds like I still win.”

Iso could barely hear them over the music droning in his ears, although it was entertaining to watch the two create some sort of flex-competition. The HQ’s fitness center was quite nice, outfitted with practically everything the agents needed to keep their bodies primed. 

Some, like Skye and Deadlock, preferred to get their exercise outside of the compound, and Iso couldn’t blame them. The gray and black tones of a gym weren’t exactly his forte either, but he needed to exhaust himself– he needed to get out this energy. 

Iso tried running on the treadmills first, something easy. He could listen to a playlist and let his mind relax. By now, Iso had acquired enough music from agents around the base to last a hundred years. 

There was something so intimate, he felt, about sharing music with friends. He learned something about everyone through the songs they chose, even if some had more to give than others. 

Like Gekko, whose recommended playlist was beginning to play in his ears. 

Iso thought back to that night in the VL/TR, how for a moment it felt like it was just him and Mateo, wrapped in the warm blanket of a melody. He nearly stumbled off the treadmill. 

Iso gasped, gripping the sidebars to steady himself, and decided he should move onto another activity– the butterflies now in his throat.

What is this feeling?

“You alright?” Phoenix called from the other end of the room. KAY/O and Phoenix were back to half working-out, half sitting-on-the-benches and chatting. 

Iso sighed. “Yeah, I just lost my footing.” 

Yeah, maybe socializing would do him some good. He grabbed his towel off the bench and wandered over to the others, patting the sweat off his face. 

“Maybe you can help us settle something,” KAY/O said. “Phoenix says we can’t do a pull-up competition because I’m a robot.”

“I did not say it like that-”

Iso restrained a laugh. “Well, do you get tired?”

“Yeah,” KAY/O said. “I get tired of Phoenix real easy.”

Phoenix groaned, laying back on the bench with his hands over his eyes. Iso smiled. This was a good distraction.

“I think you should still try,” Iso offered, “but only if I get to join too.”

That seemed to get Phoenix’s attention. He peaked one eye through his fingers, grinning. “Now we’re talkin’!”

It’s strange. Iso never would have imagined himself shirtless in the gym with two of his friends hyping him up. It sounded so unlike him, and yet, here he was, doing pull ups until he couldn’t any longer.  

Iso himself capped out at about nine, his arms like noodles. To his surprise, KAY/O and Phoenix tied at twelve each, which didn’t exactly solve their rivalry. Iso had a sneaking suspicion that KAY/O could have kept going, but stopped for Phoenix’s sake.

Although, it certainly did the trick– Iso was utterly exhausted. The energy from earlier in the day was buried beneath layers of muscle aches. Right?

He was resting on one of the benches beside his friends, still shirtless, when Gekko poked his head through the gym’s main entrance. 

“Hey guys,” he called out, “is Iso in here–”

Their eyes met in that moment, right as Iso was wiping his face with the towel. A sudden panic overtook him as Iso wondered how he might look– disheveled, sweaty, red in the face. Was his hair even sitting right?

Gekko’s reaction did little to quell his racing thoughts.

“Oh!” Gekko said, averting his eyes. “Ah, u-uhm, sorry. Did I interrupt… gym bro time?”

Strange . Gekko had never hesitated to slide into a conversation. His presence was like a beacon when he entered a room. Everyone wanted him around. Iso certainly did, even if that odd feeling was returning in his chest now, stronger than before. 

“No, it’s alright,” Iso said, his smile uncontrolled– it was like he forgot how to use his face. “We just finished, uh…”

Phoenix saved him. “Pull-up competition,” he said, casual. “You’re looking at the winner.”

“We tied,” KAY/O reminded him, and the two descended into another back-and-forth over the subject. Iso took it as an opportunity to slip away, meeting Gekko over by the door.

“Sorry,” he said. “I probably look like a mess.”

Gekko laughed once, visibly nervous. “What? No, no. You’re okay.” 

Iso tried not to stand too close. “Did you still wanna hang? I can shower and meet you somewhere.”

“Yes!” Gekko said quickly. “Yes, of course I do. That’s why I came to see you, actually.” 

The thought made Iso smile. “I’ll be quick,” he promised, absently scrolling on his phone. He was acutely aware of how close Gekko was, and the fact he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. “I just had to let out some energy.”

Iso wasn’t particularly self-conscious, but he swore for a moment he saw Gekko’s eyes flick down to his chest and away again. Years of contract work definitely kept him in shape, but he wasn’t sculpted either. His build was strong underneath, sturdy. It made him wonder if Gekko was–

Stop. 

“Sound good?” Iso asked again, his mouth dry.

“Huh?” Gekko said, blinking. “Oh, yeah. Yeah! Perfect. Meet me in the courtyard, yeah?”

Iso nodded, and before he could speak again, Gekko had slipped away. 

What is going on with him?

As Iso gathered his belongings and left the gym, he caught Phoenix’s eye– the man smiled at him, like he knew something he didn’t. Iso returned it, his eyes uncertain, and retreated to his room. 

***

Iso sat under the shaded benches of the courtyard, music in his ears, watching Gekko attempt new tricks on his skateboard. It was as easy as breathing now, to just exist in the same space together. 

Iso was happy to watch him move, delighted by the grins Gekko flashed everytime he nailed his landings. Even Wingman was keen to get in on the action, standing on the board behind Gekko as he rode lazy in circles around Iso’s bench. 

He looked so carefree, so… 

“Hey look!” Gekko shouted, interrupting his thoughts. He held Wingman above his head like a little yellow plane as he rode past, his nubby arms outstretched. Iso couldn’t help but laugh over the sound of his music. 

Charming.

After his aerial adventures, Wings waddled over to Iso’s feet, shaking his pant leg. It was routine by now, and Iso bent closer to speak to him.

“Yes, Wings?” he said gently. The yellow creature tugged his leg again, grumbling. 

“Oh my god,” Gekko said, still skating. “He looks so cute when he bothers you.”

He wasn’t wrong– Iso had always found Gekko’s creatures endearing, colorful, charming, just like their handler. Iso pulled out his phone, attempting to snap a quick picture, like someone trying to photograph their cat before it moved. Wingman pressed his face right against the lens, resulting in a nearly black photo. 

Iso laughed behind his hoodie. “Come on, Wings. You have to stand back.”

The creature gurgled in confusion and defeat, waddling back. 

Iso looked up from his photoshoot to find Gekko staring, his expression indiscernible. 

“Is this weird?” Iso asked. 

“Nah, it’s adorable.”

What?

Gekko spoke too fast. “I mean, like, have you seen my camera roll? It’s all Wings.” 

Iso thinks back to the first time he saw Gekko’s phone lockscreen– a fish-eye lens picture of Wingman. Adorable.

Iso smiled to himself, watching Gekko circle him on the board.

He spoke without thinking. “Can you teach me?”

“How to skateboard?” Gekko asked.

“Yeah,” Iso said, running his fingers over his gloves. “It looks fun.”

Gekko came to a stop in front of Iso’s bench, lifting his board with his foot. The underside was decorated with Gekko’s signature style– colorful and bright. Iso looked up at him, the scattered light falling over his face. 

Iso felt that explosive energy in his chest start growing again.

“You wanna give it a try?” Gekko asked.

Iso wasn’t sure if he did, honestly, but Gekko was looking at him with such a ridiculous grin on his face that he felt his heart hammering in his throat. How could he say no?

“Okay,” Iso said, “but do you promise I won’t fall and break open my skull?” 

Gekko patted his shoulder. “Yes, I promise I’ll catch you.”

Iso swallowed. The thought should have calmed his nerves, but suddenly he felt like he was on fire, deep under his skin. 

Gekko stepped aside, gesturing to the skateboard. Iso tried his best to repeat the motions he saw him use— one foot on the board, the other firm on the ground. Gekko made it look so easy. 

“Just like that. Now, push off!” Gekko encouraged him. 

Iso pushed himself forward and instantly fell backwards. 

He bit down a yelp as he fell against something warm. Gekko had caught him from behind, as promised, hooking his elbows under Iso’s arms, close enough that he felt the boy’s warm breath on the back of his neck.

Gekko giggled, and the rumbling of his chest combined with the sound in his ear made Iso feel dizzy. 

“See? I told ya.”

“I don’t think I’m very good at this.”

“Nah man,” Gekko said. “It’s just your first try. You’ll get it.”

Iso realized he had been leaning in Gekko’s arms for far too long, hoisting himself back to his feet. 

“Thanks,” he said, sheepish. 

He gave it another try, but now his legs felt weaker, his heart was racing faster, and no matter how hard he tried to look forward, something about Gekko kept pulling his gaze. He smiled at Iso with such patience, such kindness, that Iso wasn’t sure what to do about it. 

Gekko was always nice. Why was this making him feel different?

“You doing okay?” Gekko asked. 

Iso felt panic rise in his throat. He felt like stomach was flipping in circles, like his face was burning off. The energy from earlier in the day was back in full force.

“What do you mean?” Iso asked, like an idiot. 

“You just look frazzled,” Gekko explained, clearly not meant to mock. “Maybe it’s the heat?”

Iso sighed. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Iso stepped back onto the board, trying for a moment to just gain his balance before moving. Even that had him wobbling, his arms waving at his sides to steady himself. Gekko stepped closer. 

Before Iso could pull away, Gekko had reached for his hands, using himself as an anchor point for Iso. The improvement was immediate. 

Iso laughed, louder than was necessary, he thought. He couldn’t look Gekko in the eye. 

“I think I know what’s going on here,” Gekko said, after a moment. 

Iso felt Gekko’s eyes burning against his face, but he still couldn’t look up from his shoes on the board, gripping the boy’s hands for dear life. They were calloused, but unscarred. Warm. 

“You do?” Iso asked. 

“Yeah,” Gekko said, leaning painfully close. “You’re embarrassed you’re not picking something up on the first try. 

Iso didn’t have enough air in his lungs to sigh in relief. 

“You caught me,” he lied, trying and failing to restrain another nervous laugh. 

Here he was, on the verge of falling off a skateboard with Gekko’s gentle hands holding his. Why couldn’t he think clearly?

“It’s not easy,” Gekko said. 

“You made it look that way.”

“I don’t even wanna count the times I fell on my ass before I could ride five feet without falling over.”

Iso laughed at his joke. “Your poor ass.”

Gekko laughed harder, his expression pure confusion and delight. Iso would make a fool of himself a hundred times more if it meant he got to hear that sound. He kept looking anywhere but his face. 

“I should take you skateboarding more often, Zhao Yu. I like this side of you.”

Zhao Yu. The sound of his name from Gekko’s lips made him feel weightless.

Iso swallowed. “The idiot side of me?”

“No,” Gekko said, tugging his hands. “The adventurous side. That’s something I’ve always admired about you, you know?”

Now Iso could meet his eyes, the confusion and shock clear in his face.

Has anyone said that to him before?

“What do you mean?” 

“Ever since you joined VALORANT, you’ve been so open to everything,” Gekko continued. “Like, you always try new things, you’re always down to hang out. Most agents hide in their rooms for the first couple of weeks, but not you.”

Iso thinks back to the night he met Gekko in the kitchen. He remembers his goofy smile and his colorful pajama pants, how he looked handing a full bag of chips to Wings. 

“I mean, you helped, Mateo,” Iso said, smiling. “You’re the one who invites me out all the time.”

Gekko, like a beacon.

Gekko started moving with him, pushing him along on the board as he gripped Iso’s hands. 

“But you never make me feel stupid for the things I wanna do,” Gekko said. “You just say yes.”

Gekko’s hands were so warm, even through his gloves. Iso focused on the feeling.

What is this feeling?

“Have you considered that I just like spending time with you?” Iso said, quiet.

Gekko guided him in a gentle path, beneath the speckled light and falling leaves. 

“I like hanging out too,” he said, laughing at the end, like he couldn’t contain it. As Gekko squeezed his hands one final time, Iso felt the world fall into place.

He knows this feeling.

“Well, uh,” Gekko began, “this was a good first lesson.”

Iso looked up to see Gekko’s wide brown eyes, his flushed cheeks, and charming, nervous grin. The energy inside of Iso pressed against his ribs. 

Iso swallowed. “You’re a good teacher.”

As he stepped off of the skateboard, Iso released his hold on Gekko’s hands, and he already missed the warmth in his palms. He felt it even through his gloves.

What is he doing?

Gekko sighed, bending down to pick up his board, Wingman clinging to his shoulder. The little creature looked between them both, gurgling in confusion. 

“I should head back inside,” Gekko said, scratching at his cheek. 

No.

“Okay,” Iso said instead, running his fingers over his palm, chasing the phantom sensation. “Thanks, Mateo.” 

Gekko offered him a light punch to the shoulder. “Anytime.”

This feeling.

Their eyes met one last time– the air between them felt heavy with words unspoken. Gekko swallowed, heading back towards the door inside, leaving Iso standing alone under the evening light. 

He thought of quiet game nights, of the uncontrollable laughter and cheeky grins. He thought of the moments together in battle, of their tense, unbroken loyalty to protecting one another. Gekko’s voice, like a melody to his ears. Gekko’s smile, like a light against his skin. Gekko. Mateo.

Iso had never been sure of his future. It wasn’t a luxury he was afforded as an Hourglass agent, or as a VALORANT agent. He could only ever be sure of his present– of the now.

And now, standing in the HQ courtyard, running a thumb over the lingering warmth in his palm, he was sure, more than anything, of one simple fact. 

He was in love with his best friend. 

Fuck.

***

Iso distracted himself in the only way he knew how– he sought out someone else. The night was winding down at HQ, the halls quiet, empty.

Deadlock was sitting in her own corner of the workshop among her gadgets, flexing the fingers on her prosthetic hand beneath the lamplight. She looked focused like this, her eyes sharp, brows furrowed. Iso noticed her wall device, folded snug into its container, resting on the floor beside her boots. He approached from an angle where she could see him in her peripheral– the last thing he wanted was to startle her.

“Hello, Iselin,” he said, his voice echoing through the workshop.

Iselin. He felt a sudden joy in finally saying her name out loud. Deadlock looked up from her work, delightfully surprised, the tension in her shoulders melting away. 

She nodded. “Iso, you’re up quite late,” Deadlock said, not explaining her own habits. 

It was funny– Iso couldn’t say he spent very much time with Deadlock, not compared to the rest. But each moment felt meaningful. It felt comfortable. Maybe they really did get each other, in their own, loner type of way.  

“My sleep schedule is bad,” Iso said, remembering the way Gekko said the same thing to him all those weeks ago. He took a breath. “My name is Zhao Yu, by the way.”

Deadlock’s expression softened, Iso’s words settling in. 

“Thank you,” she said to him, genuine, as if he had just shared a secret held deep in his heart. “You’re not here to scold me for working late, are you? Skye already gave me a lecture.”

Iso smiled. “Not this time,” he said. “I wanted to give you something, actually.”

In his hands, Iso held a book– something light, that could surely be read in a single evening by someone as ravenous as Deadlock. The cover was still crisp, well-cared for. 

“You gave me a recommendation,” Iso began, “so I wanted to give you one too.”

Deadlock’s eyed widened, and she reached for the book with both hands, taking care as she gripped the sturdy edges. Her expressions were alway difficult to read, but Iso could tell from her motions– she was intrigued. 

She brushed her organic hand over the cover. “What is it about?”

Iso hesitated, leaning against the side of her desk before she motioned for him to sit on one of the workbenches beside her. He wondered how KJ and the rest could get any work done around here with such hard seats. 

Iso leaned forward, his hands in his pockets.

“It’s about a group of people surviving a mysterious disease,” Iso said, blunt. 

Deadlock couldn’t help her laugh. “Didn’t think you liked the disturbing stuff.”

“I dunno,” Iso said, shrugging. “You got me curious. I thought this one was pretty good.”

Deadlock opened the book to skim through the summary, checking the first couple of pages. Her eyes were obscured behind her lashes, her lips pursed.

“Thank you, Zhao Yu,” she said after a moment, her voice softer. “You know, most people I recommend that book to don’t even finish it.”

Iso tilted his head. “Why not?”

“It’s weird,” Deadlock said. I’m weird , goes unspoken, but Iso sees it in her expression. He sees it in how her hand rests tentatively against the cover, fingers tracing the lettering of the title.

“I liked it,” he assured her. “Once I gave it a chance.”

Deadlock smiled, and it was a pleasant sight. Her features were usually so hardened by constant tension– she looked relaxed like this. 

“I’ll give it a read, yeah?” She set the novel on her workbench, her hand splayed over the top. “Thank you.”

Iso’s entire evening had been defined by a persistent rising panic: over his feelings for Gekko, mostly. It was a puzzle of his emotions he wasn’t quite prepared to finish. Sitting in the quiet workshop, listening to the faint hum of background noise, speaking with Deadlock– all of it helped.

There was only one more thorn in the back of his mind left to pluck.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking,” Iso began, his voice uncertain for once, “but I noticed that you and Gekko are… uneasy around one another.”

“Ah, that ,” Deadlock said, flat. Her mood shifted, just enough to worry him.

“I don’t mean to overstep.”

She ran her metal thumb over the book’s cover again, idle. “No, it’s alright. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it.” 

Iso pulled his hands from his pockets, fidgeting with his fingers against his palm. He remembered the warmth of Gekko’s hands again and pushed aside the thought– not now.  

He could tell from the look in Deadlock’s eyes, she was deep in thought. The silence between them was calm, steady. When she spoke again, it was near a whisper. 

“I don’t know if I can let go of the things I’ve seen… the things that happened to me. But I refuse to let it control my future,” she said, her wrist flexing. Her metal arm was smooth, fluid, like she spent every hour tuning it to perfection along with her other gadgets. 

Iso didn’t know her demons, just as she didn’t quite know his, but he didn’t need to. Her arm was enough of a sign. A permanent mark. Iso’s wounds were in his heart, in his head, not his body– she had the misfortune of harboring both.

Deadlock clenched her fist. “I thought Gekko was foolish at first, entrusting his life with those creatures… but he has never once let me down.” 

Iso thought of their battles together– Gekko glued to the sides of his teammates, supporting them even when the battlefield was full of smoke and bullet casings.

Deadlock sighed. “He’s got a good heart.”

Iso smiled, warm, behind his hoodie. “He does,” he said. 

Their eyes met, and Deadlock raised a brow. Maybe she could see something that had taken him far too long to see himself. 

“You know, you should try talking to him sometime,” Iso said. “Maybe… meet his friends?”

He thought back to his own introduction to Dizzy, Mosh and Thrash– he hoped Deadlock’s introduction would be a bit smoother.

She studied him cautiously, her eyes narrow. “Maybe you’re right.”

“I know it’s not easy.”

She rolled her eyes. “A bit of an understatement.”

“Just think about it,” Iso said, lighthearted. Deadlock smiled with her eyes more than her lips, nodding. 

“Thank you for the book,” she said. “I’ll find something new for you too.”

“Please, no more ghost stories.”

She grinned wide now. “No promises.”

The two of them laughed, quiet in the dim workshop, before retreating for the night. As Iso watched her disappear beyond the hall, his own words rang loud inside his head. 

I know it’s not easy.

Maybe it was time to take his own advice. 

***

He knew the route well, by now, navigating the gray metal hallways of HQ until he stood before the unfamiliar door to someone’s room. He knocked, once, twice. 

Sage opened the door to her quarters, a calm jade light flooding out from behind her.

Her eyes widened when she saw Iso, surprise clear on her face, but she smiled at him with all the warmth of a fire. Iso thought at that moment, maybe things would be okay. 

“Iso,” she said, “I’m glad to see you.”

I know it’s not easy.    

Iso swallowed. “Sage, would it be too late to talk?” he asked in Chinese.

Sage shook her head, opening the door wider for him. He could smell the scent of ocean waves, the crisp chill of luminent ice. It drew him in like a cool, calming breeze. 

“Please, come inside,” she said, her voice bright. “I’m here to listen.”

Chapter Text

“Well, my friend,” said Cypher, sitting across from Iso in his cozy, specialized den, “I have both good news and bad news.”

The hacker had invited Iso to a meeting inside of his personal office– it was more of a closet, if anything. Monitors lined the back wall above his desk, a half-empty mug of tea resting just beside his keyboard. The blue glow washed over the ridge of Cypher’s hat, nearly obscuring the oddly shaped eyes of his mask. 

Iso bent closer, squinting against the harsh light of Cypher’s main monitor. He kept his music low.

“What’s the good news?” he asked, hesitant. 

Cypher typed at his keyboard, his fingers moving faster than Iso thought was possible. Iso’s own face flashed across the screen before him– his official ID photo for the VALORANT protocol, surrounded by the familiar purple hues and geometric emblem of Hourglass.

“This contract is not exclusive to you,” Cypher said, simply. “So you do not have to worry so much about showing your face, within reason.”

Iso nodded, letting the information settle. He supposed it made sense: the agents would be spread thin if he was not their only target.

“The bad news?” Iso asked, slowly. Cypher chuckled beside him, pulling up another document on his screen. 

Each of his monitors flashed with a new set of mugshots: Iso, Sova, Omen, and Cypher.

“They want us all!” Cypher said, snickering. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Iso failed to see the humor in the situation, but he held his tongue. As he looked over the mugshots of his friends, he did begin to feel his worries fade, gradually. It was a formidable group, the four of them. He honestly felt sorry for anyone tasked with their deaths. 

Omen took down half of the Hourglass HQ by himself, after all. 

Iso swallowed. “Have you shown the others yet?”

Cypher kept typing, the optics of his mask flickering back and forth across the different screens. Iso wondered how he was able to keep track of so much at once– the light alone hurt his eyes. 

“Sova and Omen have been briefed, yes,” Cypher said, pensive. “I will monitor Hourglass communications, but they are like little children in the dark. We have nothing to worry about.”

Iso believed him, but he felt a familiar spark in his chest. He first felt it when he confronted the Hourglass agent at the night market, back when he was protecting his friends– protecting Gekko. He felt it again now, as his vision swam over the mugshots of his allies on Cypher’s screen. He would protect them, yes.

But more importantly, they would protect each other.

“Do you need any information from me to help your search?” Iso offered, backing away to give Cypher more space. 

The man sat back, his chair squeaking. “I believe I have what I need,” Cypher said. “Anything else I need on Hourglass can be easily found. Do you know how unsecure their servers are?”

Iso nodded, smiling faintly behind his hoodie. He flexed his fingers through his glove. 

“We’re lucky to have you, Cypher.”

That seemed to draw the man’s attention, and he looked away from the bright screens to settle his eyes on Iso’s face. The optics of his mask grew wide– Iso could hardly tell the emotion, but it was something between shock and delight.

“Thank you, Iso,” Cypher said, his voice still ringing with amusement. “You know, I’m rather glad you decided not to kill Omen.”

Iso bit back a laugh. “Me too.”

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” Cypher said, reaching over for his mug of tea. He paused as he lifted it from the desk, his other hand reaching just beneath his mask. “Ah, we’re done here.”

Iso didn’t need to be told twice. 

He slipped out of Cypher’s office quietly, noticing how Cypher waited, motionless, until the door was fully closed before lifting the bottom hem of his mask. Iso would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about the man’s face– he was pretty sure everyone was.

Iso remembers his own mask. It wasn’t physical, like Cypher’s, but he had worn it all the same– the way he kept his eyes forward, his lips pressed into a thin line. There were times he wondered if he would ever be able to express his emotions like the other agents, or if his past would keep his true self frozen under the surface. 

He supposed Gekko was like a fire, in that sense. He melted through to Iso’s core.

The thought made Iso smile, wide, like a fool. He touched the corner of his lips as he walked back to his room– did he ever use to smile this much?

***

Iso liked wearing his gloves. 

Even when he wasn’t in combat, the fabric was soft, pleasant against his palms. In a way they felt like braces, reaching up just past his wrists. Iso wore them during battle as much as he did during his downtime, adjusting the straps at the base to occupy himself. It became a habit.

The phantom sensation of Gekko’s hands against his own was a common occurrence in the last week, ever since Iso’s revelation. It was dulled by the gloves, and Iso didn’t want to imagine what that touch might feel like without the layer of fabric between them— without the separation. It made his heart race just thinking about it. 

So here he was, wearing his gloves even as he stood in the kitchen helping Gekko portion out snacks into colorful, plastic bowls. It was group movie night— they required only the best treats. 

“Look at you, Zhao Yu! So cozy,” Gekko had said when he first saw him that evening. Iso wore a simple black sweater, feeling almost naked without the full weight of his hoodie. 

He rolled up his sleeves just below his elbows as he worked. It felt nice to dress down in their free time, even if his gloves remained a staple of his outfit. No one bothered to ask about it. 

Gekko wore a shirt for a band Iso didn’t recognize— he would remember to listen to them later— along with some sweatpants and colorful socks. He popped open another bag of chips. 

“Have you seen the movie we’re watching?” Gekko asked. 

“No,” Iso said, “but Fade told me she read the book or something. It’s supposed to be really good.”

The other giggled under his breath. “I thought it had, like, giant worms in it or something?”

“Does it?” Iso asked, glancing up from the snacks. He liked the way Gekko laughed– he wanted to hear it again. The concept seemed to delight him. Gekko always found something to laugh about, even in the smallest moments.

Iso knew he couldn’t keep his feelings a secret forever, not when they seemed to grow stronger every second he spent with Gekko. It needed to be the right moment, he thought, though maybe that was just an excuse to procrastinate a little longer. He ran the scenarios through his head like plans for battle– somewhere alone, somewhere quiet. He just needed time.

Just a little more time.

They looked up from their snacks when Yoru and Killjoy entered the kitchen, both carrying a six-pack of bubbly drinks. Iso noticed the colorful label as they set them on the counter with a solid clunk.

“Woah, are those for us?” Gekko asked, his eyes lighting up. 

“One each,” Killjoy explained, wagging her finger. “So don’t drink it all before the movie starts.”

Yoru set a bottle on the counter– the label was missing. “We can mix our own drinks,” he said, simply. 

“Are we, like, even allowed to have alcohol on the base?” Gekko asked, tilting his head. He didn’t seem adverse to the thought, just confused. Iso wondered how Yoru even managed to get it inside.

Iso himself wasn’t much of a drinker– he wasn’t fond the sensation of losing himself, even in a light buzz, but perhaps that was a side-effect of his previous circumstances. Maybe it would be different now, surrounded by friends. 

“Relax,” Yoru said to Gekko, with no real bite. “No one will get messed up. I’ll make them myself.” If Iso blinked he would have missed the proud smirk on Yoru’s face. Who knew he was so passionate about amateur bartending?

At some point, Raze had snuck up behind them to steal a bowl of chips for herself, waiting patiently for Yoru to set out some glasses and begin mixing their drinks. She and Killjoy spoke in low voices, giggling back and forth over something Iso couldn’t understand. 

Gekko nudged Iso, a grin wild across his face. 

“Are you excited?” Gekko asked, bright. 

Iso’s lips kept twitching into a too-big smile-something he had a hard time controlling ever since recognizing his feelings for Gekko. He would do something about it soon, he told himself. He would.

“For?” Iso asked. 

“Movie night!” he said, poking him again. Gekko’s ungloved hands were warm through the fabric of Iso’s sweater. Every touch sent sparks up his spine. “It’s your first one. We should make it special.” 

Iso had to look away, his cheeks burning. “What do you suggest?”

“We could do a shot.”

“What?” Iso said, at the same time Yoru said, “What?” ”

Killjoy laughed behind her hand, Raze over her shoulder. “I would love to see that.”

From Gekko’s expression, Iso could tell he was serious, and excited. Was he really that happy about sharing a drink with him? The thought made Iso warmer than any sip of alcohol ever could. 

“I don’t see why not,” Iso said, earnest. His eyes flickered between Gekko’s and the bottle in Yoru’s hand. The riftwalker held it closer, defensively. 

“Didn’t I just say I’m mixing drinks myself?” Yoru asked, gesturing to the row of glasses in front of him. The drinks were colorful, oddly cute, and they smelled vaguely of the fruity base. 

“Come on, Yoru!” Gekko pleaded, his brown eyes wide– Iso would have caved in seconds. “Just one. It’s for Iso!” 

“Yeah, Yoru,” said a new voice. Jett had snuck up behind them, mimicking Gekko’s clasped hands and pitiful look. “Just this once?”

Yoru frowned, his eyes latching onto Jett. She looked smug– her grin widening, their eyes speaking a thousand words to one another. Iso remembered the same look from the night market, when the two of them whispered something behind his back. What were they thinking now?

After a tense moment of silence, Yoru groaned. “Fine ,” he said. “You can have one .” 

Jett and Gekko erupted into playful applause, like true partners in crime. Iso adjusted the straps on his gloves again– an instinct before battle, or in this case, before the show. They did have quite the audience now. 

Yoru slid the glasses across the kitchen counter, sighing. Gekko grabbed them both, handing one to Iso himself. Cute.

They shared a look in that moment, Gekko’s lips curling into a mischievous grin, his eyes scrunching up in the corners. Iso loved when he looked at him like that, like he was the only other person in the room. 

Iso clinked his glass against Gekko’s, and everyone else in the room seemed to fade away. 

“To Zhao Yu!” Gekko said through a laugh, holding up his glass. 

Iso repeated the words softly, his eyes locked with Gekko’s. “To us.”

In unison, the boys knocked back their shots. Iso tried not to think about how it burned on the way down, only coughing once as he wiped his lips. 

Gekko seemed more affected, slamming his chest with his fist a few times to recover from the sting. “Oh wow,” he said, coughing, laughing. “That was just as bad as it looks.”

Iso’s eyes widened. “That was your first time doing a shot?” 

“Yeah,” Gekko said, sheepish. He coughed again, his cheeks red. “I wanted to do it with you.” 

Iso’s time at VALORANT had been defined by new experiences– new friends, new places, new battles. Each time, Gekko was at his side, guiding him through every moment of the discomfort that lay underneath.

Iso wondered if he could be the same for Gekko– a guide. He wanted to be there for each new experience, to see the look of joy in his eyes, to hear his rolling laughter. Looking at him now, flustered and wiping his lips, Iso wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

Iso didn’t have time to think of a reply before Phoenix poked his head through the kitchen door, a pout on his face. 

“Hey fam, we gonna start this movie soon or what?” He asked, and suddenly the room came back into focus. Iso remembered they weren’t alone– in fact, he felt quite a few eyes on him. 

The boys set down their glasses, and Yoru continued crafting everyone’s drinks. It was clear he just liked being in charge of it. Phoenix came up beside him, and Yoru handed him a personalized glass. 

“Extra ice,” Yoru said, “because you always melt your drinks too fast.”

“Aww,” Phoenix teased. He placed a quick smooch on Yoru’s cheek, and the man rolled his eyes. 

Iso helped the others lug their collection of drinks and snacks into the next room. Neon had already converted the space in front of the couch into a make-shift nest– thick blankets padded the floor, pillows rested against the front of the couch. Iso hesitated for a moment, wondering where to sit.

He was thankful Gekko decided for him, tugging Iso down to sit beside him on the floor, their backs against the couch. It was surprisingly comfortable, all things considered. Everyone was a bit squished together– something the old Iso would have hated. Now, it felt comfortable. 

He felt safe.

Gekko sat with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, already shoveling a few bites into his mouth.

“You’re going to run out before the movie starts if you don’t slow down,” Iso said, setting his glass on the coffee table beside them. The drink itself wasn’t very strong, but Iso could taste the burn, fainty. 

Combined with their shot, he hoped the buzz wouldn’t hit him too quickly.

Gekko shook his head, mid-bite. “I’ll just get more,” he said, unbothered. He tilted the bowl for Iso. “Here, have some.”

How could he say no?

Iso couldn’t remember the last time he watched a movie, let alone with others, but he liked the closeness. Gekko was pressed right against his shoulder, the warmth of his skin soaking through his sweater. It was distracting– horribly so. Iso found it difficult to focus on the movie, not when he felt Gekko’s hands poking at his sleeve.

Between the drinks, the snacks, and the occasional whispers between his friends, Iso felt himself loosening up. His head grew foggy, relaxed– he found himself leaning against Gekko too, absently grabbing little bites of popcorn from the bowl he held in his lap. They were running low already.

Gekko kept giggling, poorly stifled behind his hand, trying not to disturb the others. The movie was definitely not a comedy, but something about the constant spinning in their heads made everything feel ridiculous. It made everything hysterical.

Gekko leaned closer, whispering right against Iso’s neck. “Would you still be my friend if I was a sandworm?”

Iso clamped a hand over his mouth to restrain an obnoxious laugh. Neon hit him in the side of the face with a pillow, which only made him laugh harder– the kind where no sound even came out. Gekko fully gripped his arm, his face red with restrained giggles.  

It wasn’t even that funny.

Phoenix looked between Yoru and his bubbly drink, his brows raised in a silent question. Yoru shook his head, as if to say, don’t look at me. Iso supposed it was the downside of not drinking often– he was undeniably a lightweight. It was becoming evident Gekko was too.

By this point, the movie was nearly half-over. The group decided to take a small intermission– time to refill snacks, stretch their limbs. Iso and Gekko retreated back to the kitchen with their now-empty popcorn bowl, fumbling into one another as they squeezed past the door.

Iso rubbed his eyes against the harsh light of the kitchen, the world slowly coming back into focus. Gekko brushed past him with a new bag of popcorn, his body thrumming with energy– he could barely hold still.

“Man, I love nights like these,” Gekko said, and Iso noticed his voice was a bit more sing-songy than usual. 

“Me too,” Iso said.

Gekko squished his own cheeks with his palms, like he was testing the feeling in his face. Maybe those drinks really were stronger than Yoru thought– or maybe they were just fools.

Iso didn’t mind being a fool so much, not if it meant he could be one with Gekko.

“Makes me wish we could just, like…” Gekko began, sighing, “I dunno. Hug it out with our other selves?”

Iso chuckled. He watched Gekko sway on his feet, his cheeks rosy, his eyes bright under the lights. 

“If only it was that easy,” Iso said.

“I’d hug your double in a heartbeat,” Gekko said, quickly. Iso felt the heat in his face reach his ears. It felt more intense, somehow, with the way his head spun.

“You would?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. 

Gekko nodded, his eyes fully serious. “No second thoughts, just–” He mimicked a monstrous hug. “No escape, man.”

Iso laughed, too loud. His head felt fuzzy as he spoke. “Hey now,” he said, airy, “you’re gonna make me jealous of him.”

Gekko giggled into one hand, his other tugging loosely at Iso’s sweater. “If you want a hug that bad, you just gotta ask.”

“That easy, huh?” Iso could feel his own lack of filter— something was pushing him forward, every thought was pouring from his mouth the moment it struck him. A voice in the back of his head urged him to shut up. 

Iso was never very good at listening. 

“Mhm,” Gekko hummed, his grin wide. “I didn’t know you were such a softie, Zhao Yu.”

“Liking hugs makes me a softie?”

Gekko hiccuped. “A bit.”

“Then I’m a softie,” Iso said, laughing, feeling his head spinning. Part of him wondered how much was the alcohol and how much was Gekko himself— he felt too close. 

“Would you give me a hug if I asked?” Gekko said, nudging him. He batted his eyelashes. Cheeky. 

It was Iso’s turn to poke fun. “If you asked nicely.”

“Seriously?” 

“Is that a dealbreaker?” Iso asked. 

Beside him, Gekko rolled his eyes, still shifting on his feet every second. Both of them had too much energy rumbling under their skin, threatening to burst. Iso wanted to get closer– he wanted to feel that energy for himself. 

“No sé, maybe I will just hug your double.”

The two of them laughed like idiots, messy and loud. The buzzing in Iso’s body pressed him forward, and he leaned over Gekko, just barely. Their eyes met— unfocused. 

Funny . Iso could see the dark roots of Gekko’s hair beginning to grow out from this angle. He could see the freckles over his nose, the red peaks of his ears. Iso realized he quite liked this angle, actually– he liked when Gekko looked up at him, with those deep, beautiful eyes. 

“I’m not asking much, Mateo,” Iso said, and he processed the words as he spoke them. “Would you ask nicely for me?”

Stop. 

The voice in Iso’s head broke through his haze, and he clamped his mouth shut. Gekko was staring at him, his expression difficult to read. His eyes were uncertain, his face red– maybe it was the drinks. Yeah, it had to be. 

Iso opened his mouth to apologize as Killjoy entered the kitchen. 

“Hey, are you two–” she stopped mid-sentence as both of their heads snapped up, their eyes wide. Killjoy’s expression rested halfway between panic and amusement. 

Iso coughed, stepping back from Gekko. “Oh, hey KJ.” His voice cracked. Great.

Gekko ran a hand over his own cheek, staring straight ahead– something about it was forced. Iso could tell, even as he wandered towards the door. 

“I’m gonna, uh, ask Neon if she wants more corn– I m-mean popcorn!” Gekko said, quickly. He laughed once, short, before slipping out the door beside Killjoy, clutching his drink in one hand. Iso couldn’t help the pang of guilt that tore through his chest.

Killjoy and Iso stood in silence for a painful moment.

She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“It’s alright,” Iso said, sighing. He felt the spinning in his head beginning to dissipate, slowly. “We were just… getting snacks.”

As Killjoy wandered past him, he gave him a look– she didn’t quite believe him, but Iso didn’t have the energy to argue. She rummaged through one of the cabinets for something, standing on her toes.

“Could you reach this for me?” she asked, pointing to one of the boxes on the top shelf. 

Iso wasn’t much taller, but it was just enough. He used his fingers to knock it down, catching it between his hands.

“Here you go,” he said. He studied the box as she took it– it was some kind of cookie. They reminded him of the ones Gekko snuck for him the first night they spoke.

“Are these for Raze?” Iso asked, curious. He couldn’t image Killjoy with a sweet tooth. 

Killjoy giggled. “How could you tell?”

“There’s an explosion on the box.”

“Ah,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “You got me.” 

He watched her pull a sleeve from the box, setting a few cookies onto a bright orange plate. Iso stood beside the microwave, waiting for the popcorn to finish cooking, fidgeting with his gloves. He pulled at the straps.

“Killjoy?” he asked, after a moment.

“Yes?” She looked up from the box of cookies, tucking a strand of hair back into place. It struck Iso just how domestic she looked, how domestic they all look tonight, really. Simple clothes, relaxed smiles– it was so foreign to him.

“Sorry if this is an odd question,” Iso began, slow, “but how long have you and Raze been together?”

Killjoy smiled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, bashful. 

“It’s been about one… wow, almost two years, now.” 

Iso ran his fingers over his palm. “Does it feel shorter than that?”

“Well it’s strange,” she said. “That was when we made it ‘official’, I suppose. But I think we knew a long time before then, so the timing feels off.”

Iso swallowed. His palm tingled.

“How did you know?” he asked, meeting her eyes. When did you realize you loved her?

Killjoy squinted, like she was trying to decipher his expression, trying to decipher his true meaning. Iso could tell she saw it in his eyes– her shoulders relaxed, her hands resting on the cool countertops. She chuckled, gentle. 

“I don’t think it was a single moment,” Killjoy explained, softly. The others could be heard in the next room, laughing. “Everything just… fell into place, one day. I realized I had felt that way about her for a long, long time.”

Iso chewed on the inside of his cheek. “You just knew?”

“She bought me a new beanie, of all things,” Killjoy said, laughing a little. “But that wasn’t what made me love her. It just nudged me over the ledge.”

Iso pulled at the edges of his gloves again, at the base of his fingers. Her words settled in his head.

“I see,” he said, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment wash over him. “I know that was a weird question, but thank you.” 

Killjoy pushed off the counter, passing beside him as she made her way into the next room. She placed a hand on his shoulder, solid, and squeezed. Iso turned his head to look at her, but her eyes were on the door, watching the sliver of light that bled into the kitchen from the other room. 

“You’ll know,” Killjoy said, hushed. “It’s as easy as breathing.” 

She walked away, leaving Iso standing in that same, quiet kitchen. From the other room he could see glimpses of his friends, hear their muffled laughter. He saw Raze and Gekko trying to dance to the music Phoenix played on his speaker— fluid, joyful. 

Gekko’s smile was brighter than the sun.

 Of course. Iso took a deep, steadying breath and waited for the microwave to finish. 

The rest of the movie went by smoothly, even if Iso wasn’t paying much attention to it. Gekko patted the blanket beside him once Iso returned from the kitchen, the tension in his shoulders gone. 

Still, Iso crouched beside him, rushing out a quiet, nervous apology. The other didn’t seem to mind, simply taking a bite of warm popcorn with a smile. 

Iso tried to put it behind him. The alcohol was wearing off— he was happy to recline against the soft blankets and turn off his brain for a while. Nothing but the pretty pictures, the sound of Gekko’s occasional whispered questions, and the warmth of his fingers against his wrist—

Wait. 

Iso froze. He could feel Gekko beside him, the pressure of his shoulder to his own. One of Gekko’s hands brushed his arm, gently enough that Iso could have missed it if he wasn’t hyper-aware at all times. 

That’s when Iso felt Gekko’s fingertips trace along the edge of his glove, just on the inside of his wrist where the sleeve of his sweater rested. The touch was slow, methodical, and in an instant, Iso could focus on nothing else.

Iso’s eyes flickered to the boy beside him. Gekko was staring at the movie, unbothered, as his fingers toyed with the hem of Iso’s glove. His cheek pressed against Iso’s shoulder– his fingers were cold against the warm skin of his forearm, circling, slow . 

Beside them, Phoenix whispered a question to Yoru and Jett. Both of them spoke over each other trying to answer– something about the plot, surely. Iso focused so intently on the screen to distract himself from Gekko’s fingers, to stop himself from shuddering from the sensation.

The movie was happening too fast. Visions of loved ones, a yearning, images of a girl with blue eyes flashing across the screen as he heard Gekko sigh against his sweater. They felt too close like this. No one around them could even see it– the way Gekko held his arm and stroked his glove like a fragile thing, his eyes reflecting the light of the screen. 

Iso glanced at him again, and Gekko’s fingers slipped inside his glove. The touch was so gentle, so minute, but Iso felt the room spinning around him again. It was maddening. 

Gekko nuzzled his shoulder and Iso finally shuddered, his body unsure how to react from such a gentle touch. It felt like his veins were electric, sparking, like lightning was trapped underneath his skin. 

“I’m tired,” Gekko suddenly whispered against his neck, letting his fingers slip out of Iso’s glove. God.

Part of Iso missed the feeling, even if they were cold to the touch, even if it sent his brain into a death spiral. Iso offered a nudge with his shoulder, playful, just enough to grab Gekko’s attention.

“Rest,” Iso told him, his voice tempered. It took all of his energy to keep it that way.

He didn’t mind being a shoulder to lie on– in fact, he liked the touch. Iso was coming to terms with just how much he liked Gekko’s touch, and if he wasn’t careful, the thought would leave his heart racing. So he let Gekko close his eyes against his shoulder, his own mind swaying between the movie and the boy at his side. 

The phantom sensation of Gekko’s fingers brushing the warm skin inside his wrist was fresh, ever-present. Did he imagine it?

It felt too sudden when the movie ended, when his friends began to stretch their limbs and clean up their messes. Gekko remained at Iso’s side, unmoving, his breathing slow. 

“Mateo?” Iso asked, louder now that the film was over. 

No response. Beside him, Neon snapped her fingers in front of Gekko’s face. 

“Wow,” she said, lips pursed. “He really fell asleep.”

“How cute,” chimed Jett from the doorway, before being ushered along by Yoru into the kitchen. Iso heard their voices ringing off the tiled floors. 

In Iso’s mind, he knew there were two possible outcomes to this situation. The first was simple, rational– wake up Gekko. Then, he could retreat to his room and attempt to process the whirlwind of emotions bouncing around in his head. Easy.

“I’ve got it,” Iso said, tired, his brain lagging behind his body.

The second outcome was ridiculous. It was unnecessary, complicated– but oh, it was far too alluring. Iso found his hands moving before he had a chance to second guess himself, wrapping around Gekko’s curled up form to hoist him into his arms.

A heavy sleeper , Iso thought, as Gekko barely even flinched. Iso looked over his shoulder at the other agents, and he realized Neon and Killjoy were staring.

“Uh,” he began, his mouth dry, “goodnight, everyone.”

Real smooth.

“Don’t drop him,” Neon said, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. She looked tired too. Iso could tell from how slowly she moved. Iso restrained his laugh– he didn’t want to disturb Gekko.

Killjoy nodded once, her smile warm. “Goodnight, Iso.”

Carrying Gekko was easy. He felt light in Iso’s arms, his head resting just against his chest. Iso tried not to think about how warm he felt as he walked toward Gekko’s dorm, his footsteps even, worried he might disturb him. 

He looked so sweet like this– waking him would be a crime.

Opening the door provided a unique challenge. Iso tried using his knee to turn the knob, and Gekko’s head shifted, just barely. Gekko whined, pressing his face into Iso’s sweater. 

“I’ve got you,” Iso whispered, unsure if Gekko was even awake enough to hear, or to even care. He felt the boy relax in his arms– good , Iso thought. He deserved the rest.

Gekko’s bedroom was quiet at this hour. Iso could still sense the eyes of Gekko’s creatures looking at him from the darkened corners, hiding in their special nests, nibbling on fragments of radianite, or whatever it is they do when they’re alone. Iso still wasn’t quite sure.

Iso’s arms ached as he set Gekko onto the bed, gently, placing a hand under his head to lay him down slowly. Gekko’s eyes were shut, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Iso took a slow breath.

As he pulled away, Gekko’s hand reached up– he balled his fist into Iso’s sweater, holding him back. Iso froze.

“Wait,” Gekko mumbled, his eyes barely open now. “I’m not tired.”

Iso placed a hand against Gekko’s forehead, gently guiding him back down onto the pillow. He felt warm, in a good way.

“You’re still a little tipsy,” Iso said, quietly. He tried to keep his voice firm. “You need to rest.”

“Will you stay with me?” Gekko asked, his grip loose. “Please? I’ll be so bored.”

Iso sighed. Gekko’s room was much nicer than his own this time of night– the lights were gentle, the ambience was quiet. It was the good kind of quiet, the one where someone was there to share it with him. 

“I guess I should keep an eye on you, huh,” Iso said, smiling, but this time he couldn’t hide it behind his hoodie. 

Gekko stuck out his tongue. “I’m not that far gone, tu tonto.”

Iso hadn’t heard that one before. “Resorting to name calling?”

“Tal vez.”

“ Mateo ,” Iso said through a quiet laugh, placing his hand over Gekko’s– the one still grasping his sweater. His fingers were still cold.

Gekko rolled his head to the side, looking up at Iso with half-lidded eyes. 

“Have I ever told you that your eyes are like, crazy?” he asked.

“Crazy?” Iso asked, slow. He hoped that Gekko couldn’t feel his heartbeat expanding through his chest. 

“Yeah,” Gekko said, his voice growing quiet. “They glow, sometimes, when it’s dark. It’s like they have little flowers on them.”

Iso knew his gaze was scary. That was part of the myth— a flash of lilac, right before the kill. Never had he heard them described like flowers. Iso stared at Gekko, his jaw opening and closing, struggling to find a response.

“They’re pretty,” Gekko said, louder. Iso forgot how to breathe.

His head was too cloudy to process anything. Even as the buzz began to wear off, Iso still felt weak— tired. His heart raced in his chest, but his eyes dropped, his movements slow.

He could tell Gekko felt the same. His grip against Iso’s sweater weakened, his head falling back against the pillow. He wondered what they might say next if they weren’t both hollow— if the evening hadn’t taken the fight out of them. 

Gekko’s voice fell to a whisper. “Hermosos ojos... te quedan bien.”

Not like this , said the voice in Iso’s head. Not right now.

“Mateo,” Iso said, after a moment. His voice was shaky, wobbling. “I’ll stay with you, alright? 

“Thanks, Zhao Yu,” Gekko whispered, letting Iso guide his hand back down onto the bed. There was a finality in the gesture, and Gekko let his eyes close. 

Iso crossed the room to grab a fresh bottle of water for the nightstand, tidying a few things that got knocked to the floor by his creatures as he went— a can of soda, a book, a hat. Wingman and the rest were still hiding nearby, as far as Iso could tell. 

He stood at the edge of Gekko’s bed, looking down at his friend as he turned down the lights. Iso knew he didn’t actually need all of this attention— it was just a buzz, something that would fade given another hour or so. Still, he wanted to take care of him. 

“Let me take out your earring,” Iso said as he studied Gekko’s face. “It can’t be comfortable to sleep with.”

Gekko laughed, sleepy. “It’s not.” He turned his head to give Iso a better angle. 

Iso admired the shark tattoos along the side of his neck. He wondered how much they must have hurt— but he liked them. He liked how often he could see them poking over the shirts Gekko wore.

“Why sharks?” Iso asked, genuine. 

Gekko smiled against the pillow. “They’re cool.”

Of course. 

Iso removed the earring quickly, focusing all of his energy into ignoring the warmth of Gekko’s neck. Beside him, the boy yawned. 

“Maybe sleep is a good idea, huh?” Gekko said. He laughed sheepishly, wiggling his way under the blankets. Iso resisted the urge to help pull the quilt up to his neck— he wanted to help, but he didn’t want to dote that hard. 

“Did you like the movie?” Gekko asked through his haze.

Iso sat down on the other side of his bed, running a hand over his earbuds. He kept them off during the movie– the sounds of the film were enough, and he wanted to enjoy the soundtrack. He hesitated now to turn them back on. 

Iso nodded, weakly. “I did, yeah,” he said. “I think I missed a few things, though.”

I was a bit distracted, he wanted to say, but Gekko beat him to it.

“Distracted?” Gekko asked, lips twitching into a smile. Was it intentional, then?  

Iso felt his blood slow again, his eyes focused solely on the man beside him. For most of his life, Iso considered himself a controlled man- disciplined, calm, patient. His desires were few and far between, and even when he wanted something, it was within reach.

Gekko was lying right beside him and still felt miles away. 

Iso made a noise halfway between a laugh and a scoff. “A bit.”

“Sorry,” Gekko mumbled, his body melting under the blankets. “I’m glad you joined us for it, at least.”

Iso leaned back against the second set of pillows, his eyes staring up to the ceiling. Spending the night in Gekko’s room wasn’t a new concept– the couch was quite comfortable, but Gekko’s bed was larger, softer. There was enough space between them, even if Iso wished there was less.

 Iso had always been the one to fall asleep first, in the past. Something about Gekko’s room was a lullaby. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Gekko whispered, peeking open one eye– Iso felt his gaze against his cheek. 

“Of course,” he said, his eyes still trained above, “I wouldn’t leave you alone.”

Gekko’s smile was hidden behind the blanket over his nose. The laugh that escaped him was breathless, vibrant.

“I mean in VALORANT,” Gekko whispered. “With all of us.”

Iso snapped his vision to the boy at his side, but Gekko’s eyes were already shut. He heard the quiet hum of the ceiling fan, a distant scuttle from one of his creatures. The lights were so dull, Iso could faintly see the outline of Gekko’s messy hair poking out from the blankets. 

Killjoy was right. It wasn’t a single moment. 

As Iso lay beside him, watching the slow rise and fall of Gekko’s chest, studying the freckles that peppered his cheeks— he knew. He had known for a long time. 

It was easy to love Gekko. It was as easy as breathing. 

For once, the thought didn’t terrify him— it was comfortable. It was everything. 

So Iso let himself breathe, slow, calming, until his eyes finally closed, and his mind fell into a pleasant sleep– one with visions of loved ones, a yearning, and a boy with brown eyes.

Chapter Text

Iso awoke to the gentle hum of the shower.

He opened his eyes to the sight of Dizzy resting against his chest, her little eyes shut tight against his sweater. Iso had fallen asleep on top of the blankets, leaving himself at the mercy of Gekko’s creatures. As his eyes adjusted to the morning light, Iso ran his hand over Dizzy’s dimpled shell. She trilled happily– a strange sound, granted, but Iso chuckled. She bounced on his chest.

On the floor beside him, Wingman scuttled across the room, occasionally slicking a clawed arm under the door to the bathroom, angry that he was shut out. His efforts were futile. Thrash was also riled up, bumping into every piece of furniture as she swam over the floor in energetic circles.

Right. Iso was in Gekko’s room.

Iso’s head snapped to the left to find the space beside him on the bed empty, and he finally connected the dots. He must have slept well if Gekko managed to sneak off without waking him. How thoughtful. Iso kept one hand over Dizzy, scratching her head, as his other scrolled through his phone. One earbud had fallen out as he slept, but the music still played, faint. 

He liked Gekko’s room in the mornings. Every agent’s room came equipped with a mural wall– something they could use to project an image of home, or any sort of environment they desired. It helped stave off the lingering homesickness. It also helped flood the room with a bit of “natural” light, something to distract from the fact they were inside of a base. Iso always changed his own mural. He could never quite decide.

Gekko’s mural of choice was from his home– Los Angeles, as he had told Iso one morning. Golden skies at sunset, pink clouds, towering palm trees, a vibrant city skyline. The orange and yellow hues washed over the room, and Iso swore he nearly felt the warmth of that very sunrise. 

He let himself imagine it was a real window view. Maybe he really was in Gekko’s room back home, and they would spend the day out in the city– Mateo would take him to all of his favorite places to eat, he might take him to the beach, even. What a sight it would be, he thought, to see Gekko smiling against the rolling waves. Iso definitely wasn’t imagining him shirtless. At least, not entirely. 

He hadn’t even heard the shower turn off in his fit of daydreaming. 

The bathroom door opened, and Gekko walked out wearing a towel around his waist, another laying over his head like a hood, his green hair nearly dry already. Iso looked up from his phone and froze– he was thankful to find Gekko staring at Wingman, and not his own, stupid expression.

Wǒ de tiān a.

Gekko’s figure was lean. Iso could tell it held power beneath the surface, like that of a dancer, almost. He looked similar to how Iso had envisioned him, in many embarrassing moments in the past. Although, seeing Gekko shirtless in person was much, much different– it was better. Smooth, tanned skin painted with bold tattoos, his freckled shoulders, the curve of his hips. Iso tore his eyes away, staring at a spot beside the door instead. 

I should have left, he thought. 

“Alright, alright,” Gekko said through a laugh, stepping around the boisterous creatures at his feet. “I’m done now, guys.”

Thrash slithered deeper into the room somewhere, satisfied, while Wingman continued to circle his feet. Iso didn’t have to be looking at him to see how Gekko’s eyes fell upon his face, his smile growing wide. Gekko’s smile was like a lighthouse– Iso could never escape it. He always felt it burning against his cheeks, drowning him in a light so bright he wondered how he could have lived so long without it, 

“Iso?” Gekko asked.

Iso’s phone fell from his hand. “Huh?”

“I asked how you slept,” Gekko repeated. He shook the towel on his head, drying out the last short strands of hair. “You spaced out on me.”

“Oh.” Iso swallowed, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands. Dizzy poked open one eye– she could feel his heartbeat racing, surely. He glanced at her. 

Don’t you rat me out, he thought.

“Really good,” Iso said, after a moment. It was the truth. “What about you? Do you feel alright after last night?”

Iso felt the remnants of movie night inside and out. He felt gross, frankly. It didn’t help that Gekko looked so fresh, so clean – Iso could smell his shampoo from across the room. Light, like flowers. Gekko flung his towel into the hamper and walked over to his dresser. 

“You know,” Gekko began, “I don’t feel that bad, actually.” He looked over his shoulder at Iso and smiled– he almost couldn’t take it. “Thanks for taking care of me, man.”

“Anytime,” Iso said, slightly strained. “Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

Gekko laughed. “I think Dizzy likes it when you do.” On cue, the little creature trilled again, low and rumbly against Iso’s chest. 

Gekko rummaged through his drawers and pulled out a fresh shirt. Iso’s eyes kept wandering from his phone to Gekko’s back, studying how his muscles shifted as he moved, how the delicate curve of his neck swooped down as it fell between his shoulder blades. 

Dizzy finally stood up from her napping place on his chest, rolling like a ball onto the bed instead. Iso’s heartbeat had become too much for her, apparently. 

Iso cleared his throat. “I should freshen up too,” he said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He grabbed his fallen earbud in his palm. “I’ll get out of your way,”

Gekko hesitated, like he wanted to say something else. He settled on a little nod instead.

“Of course,” Gekko said, and Iso swore there was a hint of sadness in his tone. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

Wingman shook at his pant leg as Iso walked towards the door, and Iso leaned down to pat his head before he left– he squished, a bit like jelly, like Iso had always imagined. 

“I’ll see you again too, alright?” Iso whispered. He caught Gekko’s smile in his peripheral again, constant, luminous. Wingman gurgled, incoherent, and waddled back towards the couch. 

Iso’s hand froze against the door handle as a thought struck him. It was never a good sign. 

“Gekko?” he asked.

The boy looked over, brushing his hands over his clean shirt. “Hm?”

Iso knew by now that he wasn’t the best at expressing his thoughts. At least, not without a fair bit of stumbling over his words. It was almost better for him to say the first thing that came to his mind instead of trying to formulate something different– something elegant.

Iso wondered if he would get another opportunity to say the thought that was blaring inside his head like an alarm— so he took a breath. 

“You’re quite handsome,” Iso said, after a moment. He gripped the door with white-knuckled force now, worried the floor might fall out from under him. 

Gekko was quiet for a second too long, and Iso glanced at him. His heart skipped a beat– Gekko was blushing. 

“Aw, Zhao Yu,” Gekko said, sheepish, scratching at his neck. 

It was a habit of Gekko’s that Iso noticed a few days into their friendship, often accompanied by a terse little laugh. Iso always thought he was good at reading people— contract work often involved a lot of stalking, watching his mark, knowing when to strike. He felt a lot of those instincts fall flat with Gekko. Of course they would, he thought. This isn’t a contract. 

Iso felt like he knew so much about him, and yet, moments like these still left him in the dark on what to say next, what to do next. He did know one thing, at least. 

Iso knew he loved it when Gekko’s voice became infused with laughter, melodic, like a song to his ears. He heard it now, as Gekko let out a small giggle. Iso’s chest panged. 

“Thanks,” Gekko said, softer, his eyes falling away from Iso. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Coming from you?

Iso offered a polite smile, as if he was leaving a board meeting instead of his best friend’s bedroom after an incredibly touchy night. His panic was rising too quickly– he had to leave before his brain caught up to his mouth.

Only after Iso clicked the door shut and released a painfully long exhale did he see Deadlock standing behind him in the hallway, her arms crossed. He nearly jumped. 

Their eyes met.

“Zhao Yu,” she said, her voice neutral, even as the corner of her lip curled up.

“Iselin,” Iso said in return. His eyes flickered back and forth between the door and the girl in front him. “Did you need to see Mateo?”

Her brow raised. “Yes, I wanted to speak with Gekko– or, Mateo , I guess.”

Iso stepped to the side, allowing her access to the door. He stuffed his hands firmly into his pockets, nodding once.

“He should be dressed now,” Iso said, wishing he could beat his head into the wall the moment the words left his mouth.

Deadlock stared at him, amused. “Is he now?”

“I mean, like–” Iso groaned, and Deadlock let out the same bell-like laughter he heard when she was around Skye. He gritted his teeth. “I’ve gotta go.”

“See you around,” Deadlock said to him, earnest. It was clear she enjoyed laughing at his expense– he knew how the situation looked. Her eyes were kind, through it all.

Iso rounded the corner, but in his curiosity, he paused. He heard the sound of Deadlock’s knock against the metal door, the woosh of air as Gekko opened it, the surprise in his voice. Iso was too far to make out their conversation, but he heard a few words– “ meet them.” 

A bundle of warmth flowed through Iso’s chest, one of pride and joy. As he continued down the hall, he heard Wingman’s gurgling, Deadlock’s hesitant laughter, and Gekko’s unmistakable, delighted joy. 

Yeah . They will be okay.

***

Iso remembered his first mission with Gekko.

Much like the efficiency of Reyna, or the tranquility of Sage, Gekko and his hyperactive crew were invaluable to the team. Iso had spent weeks practicing with Gekko in the range before they went on site together, and it was worth it. Iso never had a moment of doubt as Gekko followed him into the fight. His presence was steady, like a warm hand on his shoulder– Iso knew he was there, even when his eyes were trained down the barrel of his gun. 

He felt Gekko.

He felt that smile, those wide, curious eyes– he felt them now too, as Gekko watched the door behind him with an intensity Iso only ever saw on the field. Iso glanced over his shoulder, his gloved fingers hovering over the trigger of his Vandal.

“I don’t hear anything,” Iso said, low. A light fog escaped his mouth as he spoke– it was freezing. 

Gekko’s shoulder shifted as he adjusted his aim. Iso noticed the reddened tips of his ears, the way puffs of air billowed from his nose in a steady rhythm. Mission together were always underlined with a sense of panic, an urge to protect, but Iso loved to see him like this– pure focus. 

“Sage?” Gekko asked, pressing a finger to the comm in his ear. 

Sage and Brimstone were stationed near the southern docking bay, hidden among the shipping containers that lined the walls of ice. Reyna lurked somewhere between the sites, traversing like a hungry ghost. Iso only knew she was alive due to the vital monitors on his wrist, and her occasional, exasperated swears in their ears. 

Gekko and Iso held the northern corner together, cramped inside one of the long-forgotten living spaces that littered the frozen bay. Even with shelter from the wind, it wasn’t enough to stop the shiver along Iso’s spine. His hands were stiff, nearly numb– Killjoy at least lended Gekko a beanie for this mission. Iso could see a few flakes of snow across his own bangs, out of focus. 

“Reyna spotted movement north of this site,” Sage’s voice crackled in their ears, level. “Move to us.”

Their eyes met, and the boys nodded in unison. Iso trusted Gekko to guide them out. He walked backwards with steady, quiet footsteps, keeping his sights on their flank. It was difficult to muffle their steps through the snow and hollow metal, but they managed.

Soon, Iso bumped into Gekko’s back as they came to a stop in a narrow alley, just beneath a catwalk– ahead of them, Iso could see Sage and Brimstone watching a spot in the distance. Gekko held out his hand, as if to say, wait.

Iso had done this long enough to sense when something was off.

He knew Gekko felt it too, from the way his eyes darted nervously up the walls around them. Iso pressed himself firmer against Gekko’s back, both for the sense of safety and the warmth that radiated through his coat. A chunk of snow fell from the ridge.

Iso could have blinked and missed it. 

One moment he was standing with his back against Gekko’s, the next he was pulling him across the alley, diving down into a pile of soft snow. Gekko yelped, clutching his radiovore harness, ducking his head low. Radiance boiled in Iso’s veins. He slammed his fists together, projecting a barrier over them both– right as a bullet shattered against the violet surface. 

The image of Gekko safe behind his shield burned into his mind. Iso thought of their first time in the firing range– he would not let Gekko get hurt again.

“On us!” he shouted through the comms, and in seconds he heard the covering fire whizzing over their heads from the commanders. Iso pressed himself down, shielding Gekko with his entire body– he couldn’t bring himself to focus on the heat in his chest, he could only think of keeping Gekko out of the gunfire.

“Smoke down,” Brimstone said, just as the air around them grew thick and chalky. “We’re covering you, get out of there!”

Iso lifted himself to his hands, coughing against his hoodie. Beneath him, Gekko clutched his Phantom to his chest, looking only slightly disoriented from the fall. Parts of his jacket were soaked through by the snow, but he was otherwise unharmed. Iso pressed a gloved hand against Gekko’s shoulder– firm, gripping him like a lifeline over the deafening roar.

“Get ready to run,” Iso said. Only then did he realize he was still on top of Gekko, pressing him into the ground with the full weight of his body. Panicked, Iso slid off of Gekko in the least elegant way possible, his limbs now half-buried in the snow. He felt Gekko’s eyes burning against his cheek. 

Why does this happen now?

Gekko coughed through the smoke, the tips of his ears and his cheeks nearly crimson– Iso tried to imagine it was just the cold. Yeah.

Gekko gripped Iso’s coat and nodded. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Iso willed his frozen legs to move, keeping his body low to the ground as he ran towards Sage and Brimstone. He heard the sound of rushing water, checking over his shoulder to see a wall of swirling gold and sea green liquid rising above the catwalk. Gekko shoved Iso’s shoulder, hard, knocking him forward as he lifted his rifle– bang!

The shadow of a man fell hard into the snow, the body disappearing beyond the smoke. The wall of water collapsed, becoming just another layer of ice among the thousands. Iso and Gekko dove behind cover, sliding to a stop just in front of Sage.

“Are you two alright?” she asked, clicking the lever on her gun. 

The firefight had died down, now, the silence interrupted only by a few shattering bullets against the shipping container at their back. Brimstone crouched beside Sage, focused solely on the tactical map at his wrist.

“We’re good,” Iso said, catching his breath. He looked at Gekko. “Nice shot.”

Gekko smiled with that proud little smile, his breath fogging. “Thanks.”

“Mid is clear. I’ll approach from behind.” Reyna said, the end of her sentence punctuated by an audible smile. She must be hungry. 

Another shot ricocheted off the crate, splintering against ice. Iso joined the others in laying down a layer of gunfire— shooting into walls, near the doorways, anything to deter the omega agents from pushing closer. 

Iso strained his eyes against the cold wind to pick out the details. A spark of fire. One . A glimmer of starlight. Two. A flash of metal. Three. 

His eyes trailed toward the tight alley— the body in the snow made four. 

Four agents. Iso sank back against the cover, ignoring the indents left behind by bullets that would have otherwise hit him, and he looked at Brimstone. The Commander’s eyes were hard— there was something wrong. 

“Where’s the last one?” Gekko asked at that moment, as he struggled to reload with frozen fingers. Brimstone frowned at his wrist brace, tapping harder at the screen. 

“They’re missing,” Brimstone said, slowly. 

Sage glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening. “Do you hear that?”

Iso did, faintly– an incessant beeping, like an undertone to the round of gunfire that cracked through the chilled air. 

“The spike,” he and Gekko said in unison.

“They must have planted across the port,” said Reyna over their comms, her voice near a growl. “The last one is there… Que molesta.”

They heard gunfire from the other side of the site— Reyna pressured the targets in the building, her rage growing. 

Iso did the math in his head– one enemy dead, three down the hall, one across the port. Sage met his eyes, and he could see the gears turning in her head too.

Iso wiped the frost from his trigger. “Gekko and I can rush the other site,” he said, rolling to his feet. 

They never used real names in missions. It was as distracting as it was unprofessional, but Iso still hesitated– just barely. He heard Gekko do the same, sometimes, his lips forming the beginnings of Zhao Yu before he froze, correcting himself.

Iso liked both of Gekko’s names. He liked how each one felt on his tongue, how they sounded to his ears. In his own mind, he had started thinking of Mateo as just Teo – would he like the nickname? Was it too much? 

Iso had never spoken it aloud. This was no time to be thinking of it. 

Sage shared a quick look with Brimstone, their eyes holding a silent conversation.

“Alright. We can hold them off,” Sage said after a moment, a jade orb crystalizing in her palm. “Gekko. Iso. You two make it to the second site and find the remaining agent.”

“Defuse as soon as you can. We don’t know how much time it has left,” Brimstone added, his face illuminated by the orange glow of his map. “Reyna. Help us squeeze out the last three.”

“On it.” Another spray of bullets echoed in the distance. 

Sage’s hands were ungloved– her radiance was too delicate, too precise to be restricted, and Iso could see how her fingertips were coated in a thin layer of frost. She used the force of both arms to toss the jade orb over their heads, shattering it onto the catwalk over the alley. The floor crystalized, crackling, beautiful in a dangerous way.

“Cariño?” said Reyna, her voice quieter now. “Be careful.”

Gekko nodded, even though Reyna could not see him– but Iso heard the resolve in his voice.

“I will.”

“Be ready,” Sage said, raising her hands once again. Iso knelt low, his gaze flickering to Gekko beside him. He had that hardened, focused look in his eyes, but Iso saw the uncertainty in his brow. Iso nudged his shoulder, in the same way Gekko had done for him a hundred times before.

“We’ve got this,” Iso said. The fog rose in the air between them, and Gekko smiled– then, Iso felt he could take on the entire world. 

“Go!” shouted Brimstone, and the alley erupted into a whirlwind of smoke. Sage raised a crystalline wall along their path, blocking any shots from their side. Bullets clattered against the thick jade surface and into the snow, buried, forgotten. 

With tired legs and burning lungs, the boys ran through the alley, weaving through the smoke and falling shells until they could see the second site just ahead of them– empty, as far as they could tell. It was worse than seeing the omega agent, Iso thought. 

At least then he would know who he was up against.

He and Gekko fell into their familiar rhythm, covering each other's backs, creeping into the frigid warehouse with an expected level of unease. The beeping grew louder as it reverberated across the metal walls– Beep. Beep. Beep. 

The final target was hiding somewhere closeby. Iso could sense it, as his eyes darted across the labyrinth of corners.

“I can defuse,” Gekko said, his voice nearly drowned out by the hum of the wind. 

Iso nodded, uncertain. He knew it would attract the last agent, but there was little time to waste. 

“I’ll cover you,” Iso promised, just as he heard the sound of a boot scraping over the hollow floor. 

Maybe Gekko had made him foolish, or maybe Iso was finally driven by something other than his own survival, but he moved without a second thought. Just as before in the alley, Iso’s thoughts became a singularity, a promise– protection.

The onslaught of bullets shattered violently through one of the thin crates, and the boys tumbled behind the wall. Iso’s Vandal skidded across the floor, out of reach, his arms too occupied with holding the boy against his chest. 

It was happening too fast. Gekko cried out. 

“Shit!” Gekko yelled, wincing, his hands clutching at his knee. Iso opened his eyes.

Red– Seeping between Gekko’s fingers, staining his pant leg. He was hit, just deep enough to cause damage where it mattered most. A lucky shot for their target. An unlucky shot for them.

Iso pressed his hands over Gekko’s, his mind spinning. 

“Gekko?” Sage asked over the comms. “How bad is it?”

Right. She could see their vitals. Gekko took a shaky breath, his brows pinched. 

“I’ll manage,” he groaned. “I just… I don’t know if I can move it— Augh!” 

Iso held the pressure against his knee, stopping him from trying to move. 

“Don’t,” Iso ordered, firm. “You’ll make it worse.”

“But the spike—“ 

“We can’t do anything about the spike until we find the last agent.”

Gekko looked at him with a pain behind his eyes. “Then go find him.”

“I’m not leaving you exposed,” Iso said, like it was final. He was tired of the hunt, he was tired of the contracts— none of it mattered here. 

“Iso,” Gekko repeated, his hand gripping the front of his coat. “I’m not asking you to leave me.”

A silence. Iso swallowed hard, unable to look away— the beeping grew faster. Faster. 

“Gekko, I—“ Iso began, before he froze. 

Iso heard it first. A sound like marbles clattering against shards of glass. Twinkling, rattling, like a burst of energy about to explode. 

Then, he saw it— a wave of volatile energy passed through them both, crackling like logs as it shuddered through the wall as if it was nothing. They winced. 

Their bodies felt wrong . Weakened, unstable, like their bones were resonating at the wrong frequency. Iso looked down at his own hand and recognized a familiar burn underneath it all. 

Why does he recognize this?

“Gekko,” he said, slow, like he didn’t want to, “did you see the last agent?” 

Gekko squeezed his hands around his head to stop the discomfort. “No, no I didn’t get a good look-“

“Gekko,” Iso said again, and this time he pressed his hands to the boy’s cheek, cupping his face between bloodied fingers. Gekko flinched. Iso told himself it was from the blood. “Stay in cover.”

“What’s wrong?” Gekko asked, searching for any signs in Iso’s face. His eyes were bright against the red smeared across his cheek. 

Iso breathed deep, releasing his hold on Gekko’s face to reach for his sheriff at his hip— the metal was too cold, so unwelcoming in comparison. He rolled to another piece of cover nearby, and Gekko restrained a cry of protest. 

It gave Iso enough time to see their target. 

Gekko squeezed himself against the box, tucking his injured leg closer to his body with a choked groan. Another bullet shattered beside his head. 

“Who is it?” he yelled over the gunshots, over the sound of breaking glass. 

Iso’s grip faltered, his mind too busy with his eyes to focus on his hands. On the other side of the site, he didn’t see the eyes of an archer, or a ghost, or even a firebird.

 He saw a flash, violent— Lilac. 

Gekko shouted again, desperate. “Iso! Who is it?”

Iso met his eyes. The burn in his hand remained, terrible— a burn he had felt a thousand times. The words came quickly. 

“Me.”

Chapter Text

Iso sat across from Sage in her quarters, resting on a woven blanket she had placed over the couch for him. In his hands, a mug of tea began to cool, the steam rising against his chin. His earbuds were silent.

Sage was looking at him, but Iso didn’t shy away. He had chosen to be here. 

Their conversations were always relatively brief– Iso never liked to talk about himself for too long. Even the small sessions were enough to lift a weight from his shoulders. There was something about Sage that made it easier to speak, easier to breathe. 

“What do you think is the fear that lies beneath the surface?” Sage had asked, her hands settling in her lap. Iso had told her of his nightmares– the ones that kept him awake at night. She was the only one who knew them to the fullest extent, and yet it felt like there was still so much she didn’t know.

Iso watched the steam rise from his mug. “I’m scared of losing what I have.”

He wasn’t quite sure how else to phrase it. Sage studied him, pressing her palm against the side of her mug to soak in the warmth. 

“You mean more than your life, correct?” She offered, raising a brow. 

“Yes and no,” Iso said. He spent a moment thinking, biting his lip. “I’m finally starting to feel like I belong somewhere, but I can’t help but worry I’m going to ruin it for myself, somehow.”

Sage let the silence settle between them, ensuring Iso was finished speaking. “How do you imagine yourself ruining it?” she asked. 

Iso had envisioned it too many times— his friends learning the details of his old work, discovering just how much blood was on his hands. He could almost feel it, dried under his gloves in horrid, stiff patches of red. 

“I think…” Iso paused. He twirled the string of his tea bag around his finger. “I’m scared I won’t be able to move on from who I was. Like, that version of me will always be under the surface. I’ll just keep being him.”

The question rang in his head: Will I ever be better? 

“You can’t change your past,” Sage said, sighing, like she knew it was common advice. “But you can change your future. That’s what you’ve been doing from the moment you joined the protocol.”

Iso stared at his mug, his shoulders tense. 

“You are not the only one who has done terrible things… things that you regret,” Sage continued. “VALORANT is a place for everyone to get a fresh start.”

Iso sighed. “I don’t want to be dramatic about it. That’s another reason I hate bringing it up. I don’t need pity.”

“I don’t pity you.”

“I know,” Iso said, meeting her eyes. “But I’m still afraid I’ll make the same mistakes. I’m trying so hard to shake off old habits.”

Sage smiled. “Isn’t that the most important thing?” she asked. “That you’re trying? Do you think the old Zhao Yu would have visited my office three times this week just to chat over a cup of tea?” 

“No,” Iso admitted. “He would be in the range.”

“Exactly,” said Sage, her eyes bright. “You are trying, and that is already enough.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Iso took another sip of the tea– Tieguanyin. The smell reminded him of a meadow in the spring, and when Iso closed his eyes, he could almost imagine it against the cool air of Sage’s room. 

“Iso?” Sage grabbed his attention, and Iso peeked open one eye. “The same desire you feel to protect your friends? They feel that for you too, you know. We cherish you.”

Cherish. The word brought a faint smile to Iso’s lips. 

“I love them too,” he said, with such an ease he surprised himself. Sage smiled at his expression, light-hearted, comforting. “I guess that’s another thing. I’m scared of letting them down.”

Sage took a slow sip from her mug. “You cannot place all of the responsibility on yourself. It is not a matter of protecting others,” she said, holding out her hand. “You protect each other.”

Iso let his eyes shut, trying to sort his thoughts. Sage did not press— not even for a moment. 

“This is all so new to me,” Iso whispered. 

“I know.”

“What happens when they find out the kinds of things I’ve done?” 

Sage set down her mug. “Nothing.”

Iso opened his eyes to find Sage staring at him, her expression serious. 

“Nothing happens,” she said again. “You worry that you may slip into old habits, but Iso— you’ve already done that. Don’t you remember?”

Iso held his breath. He averted his gaze to the floor, piecing together Sage’s words. The firing range, the night market– all moments he tried to take on by himself. 

All moments where he failed.

“Whether you’re in the field or with your own thoughts, you don’t have to fight alone anymore, Iso,” Sage said. She was still staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Iso could feel it.

Gekko’s voice echoed in his head: You have us.

It had taken Iso a while to understand what he really meant– that this wasn’t just about fighting an Hourglass agent in some abandoned alley. Iso was good at killing. He was good at putting a bullet through whatever problem stood in front of him. 

What was he to do when the biggest problem seemed to be himself?

But maybe that’s what Gekko had truly meant. He didn’t need to fight those demons alone, not anymore. He could not let himself be consumed. 

“Thank you, Sage,” Iso said, and he met her eyes again. He felt the dark circles under his own. “I feel a little better.”

“You’re stronger than you think,” Sage said, quiet, “and you will become more than your past.”

Iso reached up to press his fingertips against his earbuds. He liked the feeling— smooth, cool. It reminded him of Gekko’s gift. A gift of music. He thought about how many songs he had collected from his fellow agents. 

He thought about the way each melody reminded him of them, like pieces of their souls. 

“You think so?” Iso asked Sage after a moment. 

She nearly laughed, tapping a finger against her own ear to mirror his movements. 

“You already have.”

***

A bullet chipped the wall beside Iso’s head. 

He sat with his back against cover, gripping the handle of his pistol tight enough to ease the tremble in his hands, wishing it was just from the cold. He could still see the flash of purple from his own gaze, like a phantom behind his eyelids. 

“Iso. Gekko.” Brimstone’s voice was strained in their ears. “Report your status.”

Gekko answered for them both, still holding his injured leg. “It’s Iso’s double,” he said, quick. “But we see the spike. I think Wings can get it–”

He was cut off by another shot piercing the crate just above his head, the impact sending shards of glass rattling across the floor. Iso’s double was still lurking the outskirts of the site. Iso knew himself well enough to know he wouldn’t push without reason– the moment they touched the spike, they would need to be ready. 

“You’re running out of time,” Reyna said now. “You need to get out of there before it blows.”

“No.” Gekko’s voice was firm, unwavering, and part of Iso was shocked to hear him sound so stubborn. “We can handle this.”

Could they? Iso watched him as he spoke. 

For a moment, they just looked at each other– uncertain, silent, both of them trembling for very different reasons. Pain. Fear. The spike was beeping louder, quicker, and the ringing brought a second chill to Iso’s spine. 

Gekko ran his hand over the surface of his harness, luring Wingman from the lens. The creature startled at the sight of Gekko’s blood, and Iso couldn’t blame him— he wouldn’t want to be here either. 

“Wings can defuse,” Gekko said, a slight hint of pride in his tone, but he swallowed it down. “You’ll have to keep your double away, Iso.”

Iso was already shaking his head. The spike sat in the open, vulnerable from all angles. The moment his double peaked the corner, even for a second, they would be exposed. They would be dead.

“I can’t go off alone,” Iso said, ducking his head low– unspoken, don’t you remember what happened last time?

“Reyna, watch behind you!” Sage shouted in their ears. More bullets fired in the distance. Gekko’s eyes flickered towards the entry to the site, just briefly– Iso saw the worry etched into his brow. They trusted their allies to handle the other agents, but it didn’t ease the anxiety of being unable to help. 

Gekko looked back to Iso and took a shallow breath. 

“You won’t be alone,” Gekko said, pained. “I can’t move, but I can still help you.”

Iso knew it was their best option, but a sense of panic clawed at his chest. Maybe it was the idea of leaving Gekko exposed against his double, or maybe it was the idea of fighting the double. 

Iso really wished the music was louder–at least then he wouldn’t have to listen to the spike. 

Gekko smacked his hand onto the hollow floor. “Iso, look at me.”

And Iso did. 

Gekko was staring at him, his eyes glassy from the pain but blazing with a passion, a determination. Iso swore he could see right down to his core. He felt Gekko always had, in a way, like no matter how often Iso tailored his expression into something neutral, something calm, Gekko could see the fires of panic right behind his eyes. They were burning, now. Iso felt them nearly blazing out of his skull.

“You can do this,” Gekko said, in such a way that Iso instantly believed him. “We can do it together.”

Iso wondered when Gekko had become such a leader, when he had found a way to speak like his words were these sharp, tangible things. Iso felt power coursing through his veins just by listening to him– maybe it was just the pain making him desperate. 

Or maybe he really believed they could pull this off. Gekko, with his bright eyes and freckled cheeks. Gekko, with his bloody, trembling fingers and his unshaken voice. 

Iso sat breathless. “Together,” he repeated. 

“Thirty seconds before the spike blows,” Brimstone said in their ears. Iso could hear gunfire across the bay, their allies pinned down. 

It really was up to them.  

Iso focused on the energy in the air— it was sporadic, unstable the closer he grew to the spike. Part of him wondered if he would be able to pull from that radiance at all, but he had no choice but to try. 

“Gekko? Iso asked, rising to his feet. He counted the bullets in his sheriff— six. Better make them count. 

Gekko was in the middle of setting Wingman on the floor, whispering something quiet between them, assuring. “What is it?”

The beeping grew faster.

“I’ve got your back,” Iso said, feeling the energy coalesce at his fingertips. “Always.”

Gekko smiled, and it was the last spark needed to ignite Iso’s fire.

Wings bolted towards the spike in the same moment Iso swung the corner, firing a blind shot straight down the hall. There he saw it– the edge of his double’s jacket, flickering just as he dove into cover. Another shot rang out a second later, puncturing the wall beside Iso’s shoulder. At least we both missed, he thought.

The beeping from the spike rose in volume one last time, crescendoing until it drowned the room in a constant, painful ringing– but Wingman was on it now, the center column rising, slow, steady. Iso’s double swung again, his bullet close enough to whip a strand of hair on the side of Iso’s head. Too close .

“Sage, above you!” shouted Brimstone over the comms. A shot echoed off the ice, followed by a satisfied huff of laughter. “One down.”

Iso knew his double had to move– his allies were dying . He watched him charge the corner, taking a risk as he entered Iso’s line of sight. Iso fired, watching in disbelief as his bullet shattered against his own head as if it was nothing, like glass shattering against the floor. For a brief moment in the chaos, their eyes met, as Iso swore he could read his own mind.

Bulletproof.

Iso fired twice more– one punctured the wall, the other hitting a violet shield. Damn it . It was too risky to let the agent out of his sight, even for a moment, so Iso ran forward, pursuing him around the corner. It felt strange to pass through the fragmented surface of his mirror’s shield– it felt so familiar, but so wrong. Like his own radiance, but filtered through a nightmare.

He blinked away the discomfort just as a shot grazed his neck. Iso couldn’t help the cry that escaped his lips, his body wound too tightly to discern a scrape from a bullet wound. 

“Iso, are you–?” Sage began to speak, but the signal died– static took its place. 

The spike was interfering. Iso could feel how it altered the air around the site, like it was sucking away the oxygen itself. The air grew colder, somehow empty. He caught another glimpse of his double as he ran towards an open corner, one where he would get a free angle on Gekko. Something instinctual fueled Iso’s next shot– Bang!

This time, Iso hit his mark. The bullet passed clean through his mirror’s leg, and he stumbled into the wall. That’s for Gekko, he thought. His double choked back his scream, and Iso heard Gekko gasp– he didn’t know which of them was hit.

“I’m fine!” Iso shouted, his voice drowning in the ring of the spike. “Just stay down!” 

His fingers twitched with ambient energy. Iso dragged his hand across the air, fighting against the distortion of the spike, pulling away the violet threads from nothing– the energy pulsed against his palm, and for once he struggled to hold it. The burn felt so much more intense against the thinning air. 

The spike pulsed– explosive, vibrant. The shockwave passed through both of them like lightning, and the room began to tilt. Iso, unable to hold the energy any longer, took another desperate shot instead. The color began to seep from his sights, amber into gray, the light in the corners of his eyes turning to static. Chaos.

Iso blinked away the noise to find he missed. 

Whatever hellish effects the spike was having on Iso’s radiance, he could tell his double felt it too– he was slumped against the wall, breathing hard, leaning his weight against his uninjured leg. The agent looked up from the bullet hole just beside his head, his expression nearly panicked as Iso adjusted his aim. Just a little to the left.

Iso pulled the trigger again. It clicked. Empty.

Fuck.

His double looked at Iso with a distant, bored expression, the one he imagined his victims saw a hundred times before they saw nothing. There was a twitch in his lips, as if he debated words– but this didn’t need words. His own eyes said everything.

What did you expect?

Then– a flash of blue. Dizzy soared beyond the wall, splattering Iso’s double with a beam of light, just as he raised his gun. Even over the onslaught of sound, Iso heard his frustrated yell. The spike’s ringing turned to a roar, and Iso screamed along with it as he charged his double, knocking them both hard against the floor. His gun went flying, skidding across the hollow, frosted ground. 

His knife. Iso ripped it from his belt and stabbed it down without a second thought. He didn’t have time to think now, not with how the spike was shaking the entire bay, not with how he felt his own brain rattling in his skull. Any longer and he feared the entire world would collapse.

Iso’s double grabbed his arm, and his hands flashed a vicious purple. 

The feeling was horrid. The radiance transferred from the agent’s palm directly into Iso’s body, sending a spasm of discomfort through his core, the wave of pain so strong he felt sick. His muscles locked. The knife fell from his hand. The agent flipped them until he was the one towering above Iso– the knife held firmly in his fist. 

“Gekko—” Reyna’s voice nearly broke through, but the signal shattered completely, her voice dissolving into a hum of static. The bay was falling apart. 

The corners of reality began to blur– Iso saw his own face warped by the light of the spike, and the air grew thin, replaced by a numb static. In their struggle, Iso and his mirror were lifted off the floor, rising along with the crates and boxes left abandoned on site. His double grabbed his jacket, his knife aimed at Iso’s face.

Iso snapped his hand up to grab the double’s wrist– just as the blade grazed his cheek. He felt it pierce the skin. A drop of blood hovered off of his cheek, splintering, lost to the whirlwind of static. Iso felt the burn along his hands extend to his arms, his radiance overheating, driven wild by the spike’s energy.

The blade pressed closer, his double staring him down with eyes like poison– a soulless, awful expression. Iso’s own eyes were wide, his arms shaking from the force of holding back the blade, his legs desperately kicking at his mirror image. 

Funny, that even in the moments before the end of his life, he still thought about Gekko’s words as he looked into his own eyes. Like flowers.

Is this what my targets saw before they died? 

Iso heard the ringing increase in pitch, so loud it nearly shattered the glass shards that rose in the air with him. Then, from the corner of his vision, Iso spotted a flash of green, small and round– Mosh, sitting in the palm of Gekko’s hand. Even with a bullet in his leg, he dragged himself towards the danger, towards Iso. 

“Iso!” Gekko shouted, his voice distorted in the thinning air. The sound of it stirred something deep inside of him, and Iso knew what he had to do. 

Iso stopped trying to kick away his double. He stopped trying to push him off, even. Instead, with the last speck of energy left in his shivering body, Iso kicked off the floor beneath him. The force sent both of them tumbling higher through the air, rotating– just enough where Iso could see the light of the spike flashing behind his double’s head. A familiar energy burned behind his own eyes, along with a single, repeating thought.

I’m not you.

The angle was perfect, then, for Mosh to splatter across his double’s back. Bubbles of acidic residue floated beside them both, clinging to his snow-soaked coat, steaming away the frost. A flawless throw from Gekko–as always .

Iso heard his own voice cry out, and for once he wasn’t sure which of them was doing it. The moment the sound pierced the site, he saw only the knife tumble from his mirror’s hands, twirling through the glitching air. Iso reached for it, gripping the handle with white knuckles— this was always meant for him.

Iso met the eyes of his double one last time. The color drained from the world, all but the lilac staring back at him, and Iso swore he saw something new flash behind those eyes. 

Maybe it was fear, but Iso recognized it as something deeper— a realization. One he had discovered many months ago. 

And as Iso raised his knife, the blade gleaming against the radiant light of the spike– only one thought eclipsed his mind.

This is what you get for fighting alone. 

He plunged the knife down, and for one fleeting moment, the world stopped.

There was nothing– no light, no sound, no air in his lungs. As quickly as the world ended, it came back into focus, and Iso plummeted to the ground. The sudden silence was just as deafening as the spike.

Iso heard a click as the spike collapsed back into itself, inert, useless. But he didn’t care about that. He didn’t care about the bloodied knife– he let that stay on the ground, forgotten, like the unmoving body beside it. He didn’t care about the ache in his veins, like his blood had just been boiled. No. None of that mattered. Iso’s mind tunneled to one thing, one thought.

Mateo.

“Hold your positions,” Sage said over the comms. “We’re coming to get you.” 

Iso’s limbs shook, but he forced himself to move, stumbling away from the ghost of his past until he saw him– Gekko, trembling with his back to the wall, looking back at Iso with desperate, hopeful eyes.

He reached out his arms for Iso, and it was like the tide pulling him in.

Iso practically fell into his arms, scooping Gekko closer to his body in a powerful, all-encompassing hug. They were both still hurt– Gekko’s leg was wrapped and bloody, Iso’s neck and cheek were cut, but for a few precious moments, they felt none of it. 

A sob wracked Gekko’s chest. He buried his face into Iso’s shoulder, his hands balled tightly in his coat. 

“Estás bien, estás bien,” Gekko said, muffled against him. “I was so scared.”

I was too , Iso wanted to say. 

The air was cold but Gekko was warm. He was warm and alive and it was wonderful. He felt like the sun in Iso’s arms, like a light that poured into his soul. The warmth flooded him, and like melting ice, Iso felt his eyes water too. 

“It’s okay,” Iso whispered. The adrenaline shook his entire body. “It’s over.” I’ve got you. 

Iso pulled away, just for a moment, and ran a hand over the top of Gekko’s head. He smoothed back the unruly strands of his hair, brushing away the melting frost, until his thumbs rested on his cheeks. Holding Gekko’s face in his hands, feeling the heat in his palms– nothing could compare.

His beacon. 

Iso pressed a kiss against Gekko’s forehead. He didn’t need to think about it anymore– this is what he needed more than anything else. To cherish this.

Below him, Gekko’s crying morphed into a laugh, bright and sudden. Then, a sigh escaped his lips, the tension easing from his body. Iso held his lips against Gekko’s skin until he felt all of it melt away, until he was sure that Gekko knew he was safe now. 

“You were right,” Iso said once he pulled away, his voice raw, thick from tears. “I am scary.”

The boys laughed in unison, shaky and tearful in each others’ embrace. Iso felt a tap against his leg– Wingman. The two of them snapped their heads down to the little yellow creature beside them. Iso nearly broke into laughter again, remembering that Wingman was the real reason they were all still alive. 

Iso was never good at deciphering his expression, but he swore it read: what about me?

“There’s my little guy!” Gekko said, his smile widening as he lifted Wings into his arms. The radiovore grumbled, sticking out his arms to stop Gekko’s relentless nuzzling, but his efforts were futile. The sight was delightful. 

Iso patted Wingman’s head despite the creature's protest. “Thank you, Wings,” he whispered. 

They heard the hum of the VLT/R’s engines growing closer, along with the footsteps of their friends. Gekko took a sharp breath.

“Almost there,” Reyna said. 

Iso laid a hand against Gekko’s thigh, gentle, scared the pressure might hurt. His pant leg was ruined, soaked through by the blood– Gekko wouldn’t be walking out of here anytime soon. 

“Here,” Iso began, “let me help you up.”

Iso was reminded of the movie night as he lifted Gekko into his arms. It was even easier when he was awake and able to wrap his arms around Iso’s neck, pulling himself closer. Iso could see how he struggled to keep his eyes open. Iso leaned forward–  silent permission for Wingman to climb aboard his shoulder as he stood up. 

Gekko shut his eyes, the dark circles beneath them like crescent moons. “Thanks,” he mumbled, exhausted. It seemed the adrenaline was beginning to wear off.

Iso held Gekko close, and his gaze fell upon the puddle of sickening red that lay just beyond the site. The thought struck him– this wouldn’t be the last time. Their doubles always came back. This fight would never quite end.

But Iso was ready, now– his past no longer controlled him. 

“Iso!” Sage’s voice broke through his thoughts. He could see her now, running across the snow laden docks, the jade orbs clattering on her belt. 

Iso didn’t waste another second— he carried Gekko off that forsaken site and into the midday snow, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, on the faint smile on his lips. Sage met them beneath the landing zone, already pressing frantic, wind-chilled hands against Gekko’s leg. They glowed, gentle, the color of cool jade. 

Gekko sighed in relief, and Iso felt it. He tried not to think of the pain he was in— it would be over soon.

The VLT/R lowered itself to the ground, kicking up the snow as it hit the bay. The side door slid open. Reyna practically jumped from the ship, rushing to their side, the wind blasting violet strands of hair against her face. 

“Gracias a dios,” Reyna said, breathing hard. She pressed a hand to Gekko’s forehead, like she was checking for a fever despite the obvious wounds. Iso thought it was nearly sweet, if not for the lingering effects of her radiance painting her veins a stark, deadly black. 

Her eyes shot up to Iso, sharp. “You both did well,” she said, like the words felt foreign on her tongue. He remembered the look in her eyes from their meeting in the kitchen, all those weeks ago. Then, her words were laced with venom, but now he felt she actually meant it. 

Sage and Reyna guided Iso up the ramp and into the VLT/R, their hands resting gently against the boy in his arms. Only once he set Gekko down upon one of the cots inside did Reyna move away her clawed hand, taking a single step back. Iso watched her for a moment, silent. 

“Thank you,” she whispered to Iso, and she walked to the other end of the ship. Even after she was gone, Iso felt her lucent gaze across the aisle. 

“Where else are you hurt?” Sage asked, removing a first aid kit from one of the wall panels. 

Gekko squeezed his eyes shut, groaning. Iso knelt beside him, reaching for his hand as if he had done it a million times before— he wished he had, now. He supposed he would have to start making up for lost time after all of this was over. 

“Just the leg,” Gekko muttered, squeezing Iso’s hand in return. They stayed like that for a short while, hand-in-bloody-hand. 

Once the majority of the discomfort had passed, Gekko pulled back— Iso gave him the space, looking away as Gekko covered his face with a deep, shaky sigh. Sage continued her work, diligent and precise. 

Wingman flopped himself onto the cot, finding a spot to rest in the crook of Gekko’s arm. The poor thing deserves a break too. 

“Iso.” Brimstone’s voice– Iso wasn’t sure when the man had approached him. He was so focused on Gekko, he nearly forgot anyone else was on the ship. 

Iso looked up at him from where he sat on the floor. “Commander?” He could tell Brimstone was just as frazzled at the rest of them– he was just better at hiding it. Iso was familiar with the slight twitch of his hands, the stiff muscles in his neck.

“The two of you did a great job,” Brim said. “We won’t forget the risk you took.”

Iso smiled, tired. “Thank you, Brimstone,” he said. “I know you all would have done the same.”

Brimstone chuckled, like the words surprised him coming from Iso. The commander looked down at him with his hard, calculating eyes, and something within them softened.

“Get some rest,” Brimstone said after a moment. “We’ll be home soon.”

Home. He liked the sound of that.

Iso sat back against the cot, and he was suddenly aware of the dried blood caking his hands— he barely noticed it until now. He peeled off his gloves, using the pads of his fingers to flake away the red. Sage noticed his struggle and said nothing, handing him a rag from her first aid kit to wipe it away as she worked on Gekko’s leg. 

He hated seeing the blood. He hated it more knowing it was Gekko’s. 

“It’s a deep wound,” Sage said, her hands pressed against Gekko’s knee, pulsing a cool jade light. “But you should be fine by the time we make it home.” 

Gekko made a sound halfway between a groan and a laugh. “Thanks Sage,” he said. 

His eyes were shut tight as Sage held his knee, his brows still pinched in discomfort. Iso noticed the smeared patches of red against Gekko’s cheeks— he had done that . 

“Hey,” Iso said, gentle, “hold still a moment.”

From where he sat on the floor, Iso was at eye-level with Gekko. It was easy to cup his cheek with the palm of his hand. Gekko’s eyes flung open, but he didn’t fight against the touch, letting Iso turn his face to the side. 

Iso used the clean side of the rag to wipe away the blood from Gekko’s cheek, pressing the cloth with such a light touch against his skin that it nearly did nothing. 

Iso took a breath and realized he was shaking. “Is this okay?” He asked, his voice fading when he met Gekko’s eyes. 

Gekko was looking at him again, with those ridiculous brown eyes, and for once Iso found it easy to look back. There was something calming about it now, after nearly dying by his own hands. Gekko’s light was often blinding, often impossible to handle for too long— but now, Iso felt it was a sunrise. He felt himself pulled in by that warmth, because that warmth was Gekko. 

“Of course,” Gekko whispered, blinking slow. He looked exhausted, and Iso couldn’t blame him. 

Iso chuckled, his body rattling with newfound energy. “Remind me not to smear blood all over your face next time.” 

“You kidding?” Gekko said. “I’ll do it to myself if I get pampered like this.”

“You’re ridiculous.” 

Iso wiped the last bit of red from his cheeks, feeling Gekko’s eyes on his face as he did. Sage was still quiet, checking Gekko’s leg for any other damage. She sat back and sighed. 

“The healing will take a while, but the progress is promising,” she told them. 

Iso glanced at Gekko’s knee— it was glowing, which he found funny in the dim light of the VLT/R. It was a good sign, at least. 

“Thank you, Sage,” Iso said. 

She moved onto Iso’s injuries. The scrape on his neck required a simple bandage, something she explained would be temporary as she regained more of her strength. Healing Gekko had taken most of her power for now. 

“It’s alright, Sage,” Iso assured her. He could tell from her focused gaze that she didn’t agree. He saw the signs of exhaustion laced through her body too— the way her eyes dropped, the strands of hair that had fallen from her ponytail. “I can stay with Gekko while he heals. You should rest.”

Iso had already braced for rejection, but Sage only smiled. It was a knowing smile, as her eyes flickered between him and Gekko— he almost could have missed it. 

“He’s in good hands, then,” she said, and gathered the stray items from her aid kit. She set them beside Iso, just in case. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Iso nodded. “Of course.”

Sage left them together in the corner of the ship, heading back towards the cockpit with Reyna and Brimstone. Iso heard the door click, quiet among the hum of the engines. 

“Hey,” Gekko said. He was laying on his side, looking at Iso with a wide, ridiculous grin 

For once, Iso didn’t try to hold back his smile. “Hey.”

“Can you hand me the kit?” Gekko asked. He didn’t elaborate. 

Iso set the box of medical supplies onto the cot in front of him, watching in curiosity as Gekko shuffled through the various gauzes and bandages. He pulled out a single white band aid. 

“Hold still a moment,” Gekko said, lowering his voice in an attempt to mimic Iso. 

“What are you—“ Iso froze. Gekko smoothed the band aid over his cheek with his thumb, his fingers brushing down the side of his face as he went. 

He held Iso like he was glass that could shatter. It made him lightheaded. 

“There,” Gekko said, smiling proudly at his work. “You had a little cut.”

Without thinking, Iso pressed his fingers to the bandaid on his cheek— he barely remembered the knife piercing it. The entire fight felt so distant now in the comforting shell of the VLT/R, with Gekko’s quiet voice in his ear. 

“Thank you,” Iso said finally. He couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped him, his cheeks burning. 

Gekko pulled back his hand. “It’s cute. It kinda suits you, you know?”

“Does it?”

Gekko laughed like an angel when he was tired. Gentle and fluttering and peaceful— Iso never wanted him to stop. 

“It does,” Gekko repeated. Iso tried not to think about it too long, or else he would start shaking again.

Iso glanced at the little radiovore now fast asleep against Gekko’s side. “So when did you teach Wingman to defuse a spike?” he asked. 

Gekko giggled again. “He’s self taught, I swear.”

Iso’s eyes swam over Gekko’s features, and this time he didn’t care if Gekko saw. Part of him wanted Gekko to see it.

“You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, Mateo,” Iso whispered. Thank you didn’t feel like enough.

Gekko exhaled through his nose, sharp. “You’re too sweet, Zhao Yu.”

Iso thought about the things he would have said if Gekko wasn’t recovering from a bullet to the leg. He thought about crawling up beside him and pulling him into his arms, how he would hold him until they landed safely back at the base. 

Iso had never been one to want, but Gekko was helping him realize just how much he could need something. 

So instead of his deepest desires, Iso settled for the next best thing. He reached for Gekko’s hand again and squeezed it tight, resting his head against the edge of the cot. 

“Do you want to listen with me?” Iso asked, almost shyly, setting one of the earbuds against the canvas bed. 

Gekko nodded, his eyes already half-shut. “Always.”

And so the boys listened, hand-in-hand, as the ship carried them home. Only after Gekko closed his eyes, his chest falling into a slow and steady rhythm, did Iso pull his hand closer— and kiss it. 

It was a promise to himself more than anything else— he was done running from his past. He was done running from the emotions that festered deep in his chest. Iso made that promise to himself, watching Gekko’s tired, sleeping face. 

He would tell him.

Chapter Text

It happened under the light of the stars. It happened among the distant sounds of cicadas, in the rolling, calming breeze of the night. 

But it began in the kitchen, as it always has— and this time, Iso was not alone. He sat resting his chin against his hand, leaning on the counter as he watched Fade stir a small, uniquely-shaped cup over the stove. The smell of coffee filled the air of the kitchen, rich and dark. 

The sun was already setting— a strange time for coffee, Iso thought, but he had quickly learned how little the time of day mattered to Fade. She stirred the pot with delicate, decorated hands, almost like some kind of ritual. He supposed that for her, it was. 

Beside Iso, Deadlock watched Fade with curiosity, tilting her head up to get a better angle of the brew. Iso had stumbled across the two women making a late-night drink together, and he almost managed to slip away before Deadlock insisted he join them. She seemed nervous, almost like his presence was a bit of a lifeline. 

If Deadlock needed the help making friends, Iso would never say no. 

“Do you always make it like this?” Deadlock asked. 

Fade looked up at her through dark lashes. “Yes,” she said. “It tastes better like this.”

“It seems…” Iso chewed on his cheek. 

“Complicated,” Deadlock finished for him. “But I want to try it.”

Fade seemed unbothered by their doubt, only smirking in response. She placed a set of mugs on the counter, pouring the coffee from the cup into each one. They were small portions, but Iso could tell from the smell alone they would be strong.

“Tell me what you think,” Fade said, sliding them across the countertop. “I’ll be making more for group breakfast tomorrow, so you’re my testers.”

Deadlock chuckled behind her mug, taking a slow, hesitant sip. Iso watched her first, his head tilted.

“What do you think?” he asked. 

Deadlock blinked, smacking her lips. “I see what you mean,” she said, sighing. She took another sip. “This is good .”

At her approval, Iso took a sip of his own. She was right— the taste was rich, smooth, and he felt that warmth spread through his body in an instant. 

“I’m jealous you get to have it like this all the time,” he said.

Iso wasn’t one to drink coffee too often, but this was pleasant. He preferred less caffeine in general— it messed up his aim. In more recent weeks, he found it messed up his combos in his gaming sessions with Gekko, so clearly it had to go.

“Thanks, Fade,” Deadlock said.

Fade looked up from her mug. “Hazal.” 

Hazal. Iso filed it away in his head along with the other agents' names— each one added felt like a prize, something to cherish. Fade, much like the rest of his friends, had a name so perfect for her it felt like he should have known it all along.

Deadlock made a sound like she nearly choked. “Iselin.”

Iso studied her out of the corner of his eye— she was really trying. Fade smiled at Deadlock in the way she does, her eyes softening, her lip curling up on one side. For a single moment, Iso wondered if he was witnessing the start of something he shouldn’t. 

That’s when they heard something rustling from beyond the doorway, something that didn’t exactly sound human. Iso knew the source without looking. He didn’t even flinch. 

“Wings?” he asked, just as the little yellow creature waddled into view. Wingman paused in the doorway, looking around in such a way that his ears wobbled, his eyes wide. 

Fade looked to Iso. “Is he looking for something?” she asked. 

Deadlock squinted. “And where’s Gekko?”

Gekko. Iso hadn’t seen him since that morning. Their conversations had been brief the last two days. Gekko spent his mornings with Sage, healing the residual damage done to his leg. Iso stayed with him when he could, talking about anything that came to mind to keep him entertained, to keep him company. 

It was difficult, now. Iso wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was the fact they weren’t alone— Sage was lovely to be around, but Iso felt the words keep dying on his tongue, his cheeks burning. He had so much he wished he could say, they just needed to be alone .

“Wings?” Iso asked again, and the creature remained stubbornly in the doorway.

Iso stood up from his barstool, offering an apologetic look to Fade and Deadlock. The two women met his eyes— one confused, one amused. 

“I’m gonna go, uh…” Iso pursed his lips. “Check on this.”

He took one last sip of the coffee, savoring the taste before he stumbled into whatever mess Wingman would lead him too. For a boost of energy, he thought. The moment Iso started towards the door, Wingman scuttled onward. 

“Iso!” Fade said, and he poked his head back inside. She was looking at him with a tiny, amused smile. “Don’t forget about team breakfast tomorrow, alright? You will never hear the end of it from Brimstone if you’re late.”

Iso nodded, his eyes flickering back towards Wings down the hall. “Right, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

He looked at Deadlock, and he hoped his eyes conveyed what he felt— you’ll be fine. She stared back, taking a quick breath, and Iso was off. 

For such a small creature, Iso wondered how Wingman could run so fast. He followed the little radiovore through the base, past the firing range, beyond the med bay, even wiggling through the cluttered workshop until he finally saw their destination— Gekko, resting against the doorway to the courtyard. 

“Mateo?” Iso asked. 

Gekko scrambled to turn around, visibly relaxing once he realized it was only Iso. “Oh, hey man,” he said. 

There was something shy about his tone— Iso swore he saw his cheeks darken. 

Iso smiled, the kind he reserved for Gekko. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “Wings dragged me out of the kitchen. I thought you might be in trouble or something.”

Whatever demure expression Gekko had faded into distrust as he stared at his little homie. Iso laughed. 

“Oh, I see now,” Iso said, crossing his arms. 

Wingman looked between them both in the silence— then, as quickly as he arrived, bolted down the hall. The menace. 

“Do you wanna go for a walk with me?” Gekko asked suddenly, his hands clenched at his sides. Iso could tell there was a nervous energy about him. 

Iso smiled for him, speaking softly. “Of course I would. Is your leg feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Gekko said. “It’s like it never happened… kinda weird, honestly.” He returned the smile, still strained, and gestured for Iso to follow him out the door. 

Iso couldn’t remember the last time he had been outside the base after dark. There was almost something unnerving about the darkness, but he had his light with him— he had Gekko. 

The distant smell of ocean salt clung to the air, and they were blessed by a gentle, cool breeze. Gekko breathed deeply, soaking it all in. Above them, the night sky seemed endless— it held more stars than Iso had seen in his entire lifetime. 

He noticed Gekko staring at them too, his neck craned back, his eyes wide. 

It felt natural for Iso to reach up and pluck out his earbuds. His senses were flooded by the nighttime sounds— the crunch of rocks under their shoes, distant cicadas, the leaves rustling in the wind. Iso used to hate the noise. He would have done anything to drown it out in a wash of melodies so loud he couldn’t even hear himself think.

But he liked hearing Gekko treading along beside him. He liked hearing the way he laughed under his breath— his brief, amazed gasps as he watched the stars.

“Wow,” Gekko said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many before.”

Iso squinted. VALORANT HQ was well-hidden, most of them didn’t even know where they were. They only knew the basics— an island, somewhere, somehow, but Iso didn’t mind not knowing. Standing in the dark under a brilliant sky, it was hard to care. 

“Do you believe in aliens?” Gekko asked as they walked, and Iso broke into a small chuckle. Only Gekko would have asked him something like that. 

“Considering I fought a version of myself two days ago, I don’t think it’s that hard to believe,” Iso said.

Gekko giggled. It was the way Iso loved the most— short, lilting, the dimples on his cheeks peeking out. Iso wanted to hear it again. 

“Maybe they have doubles too,” Iso continued, and Gekko laughed again. Crickets chirped in distant foliage. Iso didn’t mind that noise either. 

The pathways around the base were well-worn thanks to Skye and Deadlock— their frequent morning walks carved through the sand and rocks. Faint lights lined the outer edges of the walkway, enough for the boys to see where they were going, and enough to cast a gentle glow against their faces. 

Gekko looked up again, quickly, like he was searching for something in that wide open sky. Iso followed his gaze. 

“My family used to say that no matter where I was, we were all looking at the same stars,” Gekko said, quiet. 

Iso’s chest tightened. “Do you miss them?”

“All the time,” Gekko admitted. His voice was light, nearly a laugh— it hid something. 

“I don’t have much family left,” Iso said, and the words came easily around Gekko. He worried it sounded too depressing, but Gekko reached over to nudge his arm. 

It was always that touch. 

“That’s why you have all of us,” Gekko said, smiling. 

“I’m very lucky.”

“I think we’re the lucky ones, honestly.”

Iso felt his face grow hotter. “Oh, stop it.”

“Nah,” Gekko said, his shoulder brushing Iso’s. When had they gotten so close? “I like complimenting you.”

They came to an abrupt stop along the path, Iso fumbling with his words at the feeling of Gekko’s warmth. His heart began to race— is now the right time? 

Every day that passed, Iso felt like his chance was slipping through his fingers. When he was alone, it was easy to imagine what he might say. Sometimes, he would stand alone in his room, mouthing out the words as he sorted the turbulent thoughts in his head– Iso would never admit it, but he didn’t want to ruin it.

He didn’t want to ruin it, because in moments like these, all of those practiced words seemed to flee his mind. 

“Do you ever think about our lives if we weren’t in VALORANT?” Iso asked instead, changing the subject, trying to sort his thoughts. 

Gekko turned to face him, and Iso saw the glint of starlight in his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked. “We probably wouldn’t know each other.”

Iso swore Gekko sounded sad. He shook his head. 

“No, not like that,” Iso said. “I mean if we were just… normal guys. No missions or anything.” 

If I was normal, he almost said. 

Gekko smiled. “Sometimes,” he admitted, looking at the sharp silhouettes of trees on the horizon. “I would hope we would all still be friends.”

“Me too,” Iso said, his voice cracking. There was another beat of silence. 

Tell him. The voice in his head was growing impatient, and he was sure Gekko was too. 

“What do you think it would be like?” Gekko asked him, pressing him on. 

Iso wondered if Gekko could sense how his heart thundered in his chest, how he felt the pulse in every inch of his body. Of course he can, he thought. Gekko always can.

“If we weren’t part of a secret organization,” Iso said, slow, like he was piecing together the words as he spoke them, “I would take you to get boba with me.”

He swore he felt Gekko stop breathing. Iso stepped an inch closer, imperceptible,  his eyes swimming over the features of Gekko’s face— his brown eyes, his surprised, barely-parted lips. The beat of Iso’s heart was almost painful against his ribs. 

“I would take you to go see that movie you’ve been talking about,” Iso continued. “I mean, I guess we could do all of that anyway, b-but, it’s…” 

Difficult. Why was it so difficult?

“I would love that.” Gekko spoke in a way Iso had never heard— breathless . It made his head spin. 

Iso swallowed the bundle of nerves in his throat. “I want to see your home and all of your favorite places,” he said, and he wasn’t sure where the words were even coming from. They felt like thoughts he had buried away since the day he first saw Gekko standing under the dim lights of the kitchen. “I want to see the ocean with you.”

Gekko stepped closer, now, studying Iso’s face with his ridiculous brown eyes. 

“We can,” Gekko whispered. “If you want.”

If you want— it was an unspoken question, and Iso knew it. Do you want to? 

The answer was undoubtedly yes. He wanted it more than anything. He wanted it so badly he could barely even think of anything else— nothing but Gekko’s face, inching closer, his eyes burning against his own.

The light of the stars was nothing compared to Gekko’s. They didn’t even stand a chance.

But as Gekko leaned closer, his eyes fluttering shut, Iso froze.

“Wait.”

Iso couldn’t remember how he ended up with his hand against Gekko’s chest, his heart racing, holding them only inches apart. Gekko blinked his eyes open, looking up at Iso with something close to panic. 

“What’s wrong?” Gekko asked. 

Iso noticed how he seemed to deflate— why couldn’t he just speak? Iso looked back at him with a million thoughts racing through his mind, his mouth quivering as he tried and failed to think of a response. 

“Zhao Yu,” Gekko repeated. He pressed a hand to Iso’s cheek, the touch like lightning to his senses. “Tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours.”

Iso swallowed. “I just… I need to say something, first.” He felt his composure die. There was no use pretending around Gekko, not anymore. “Please.”

The concern on Gekko’s face was replaced by intrigue, his smile faintly returning, and he pulled back to give Iso more space. 

“Okay, that’s okay,” Gekko said, quiet, assuring. He raised a brow. “I’m listening”

The way he looked at Iso was really not helping him keep things together, but this was the moment he had been agonizing over for weeks. There was no stopping now.

“Uh… Okay, so,” Iso began, punctuated by a small, nervous laugh. Gekko was grinning wider now, already realizing where he was going. “Look, I think you probably know I’m not very good at talking about… myself.”

Gekko nodded. He ran his hands along Iso’s forearms as he spoke, slow, comforting. It was horribly distracting, and Iso stumbled over his words again.

“B-but you always pushed me to try new things. You made me feel like I might belong here,” Iso said, his eyes focused on Gekko’s chest. Looking him in the eyes at that moment would have broken him. “I do feel like I belong here, actually. I used to be so scared of doing anything, or talking to anyone… but you just make it feel…”

Iso struggled to find the words. 

Gekko tilted his head, moving his hand down Iso’s arm to take his hand, running a thumb over his palm. “Zhao Yu,” he whispered. “You don’t have to say anything–” 

“I do . You make it so easy,” Iso blurted out, followed by another tiny laugh. “I used to feel so nervous around everyone else, even you. But now it’s like… I just feel so calm when you’re around. It feels so natural.”

Gekko leaned closer, and Iso felt the light of his smile shine upon his cheeks as he spoke. He felt his warmth. 

“You’re doing good,” Gekko whispered. God.

Iso squeezed his eyes shut. “You’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met.”

Now that seemed to surprise Gekko. Iso was rambling now, but as soon as the dam broke, the flood of words didn’t stop.

“I love being around you. I love listening to you, and hearing your laugh. You always know exactly what to say,” Iso continued, gripping Gekko’s hands like a lifeline. “Everything about you makes me smile. It’s unfair .”

Iso paused to take a breath. His hands were shaking now, but Gekko held them tighter, stepping closer— he could feel Gekko’s breath against his lips. Still, Iso couldn’t look at him. He was too scared he wouldn’t have the self-control to finish speaking if he did.

“I don’t know how else to say it, Mateo,” Iso said, and he let his forehead rest against Gekko’s. His face was warm. Iso felt the tips of his ears burning, his cheeks growing hotter— he only hoped his heart would stop thundering.

They stayed like that for seconds that felt like hours– Iso breathing deep to calm his racing heart, Gekko running his hands over his arms, squeezing his hands, his gaze burning against Iso’s cheeks. He thought about all the times he wished he could have lived in this moment, this perfect, quiet moment. Nothing but Gekko and the tickle of his breath, the warmth of his hands. 

Finally, Iso opened his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, without any hesitation. The words came so easily, now, like breathing. 

Gekko looked at him with a wide, toothy smile, the corners of his eyes prickling with tears. It was like the color flooding back into the world. 

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?” Gekko asked, his breath against his lips. Iso couldn’t blame him. 

Iso laughed again, feeling the nerves rattle out of him. Looking at Gekko now, he wondered the same thing. He had known for so long, but part of him was still afraid– still living in the past.

Iso took a breath. “I was scared of what you might think of me if you knew the person I used to be.”

“Zhao Yu,” Gekko said, and Iso loved how he whispered his name. “I don’t care about that.”

“I know that now,” Iso said, relieved. He bit his lip, wondering how much he should share before remembering this was the moment . There was no more hiding. “Sometimes I look in the mirror and I still see the assassin. I didn’t want you to have to see him too.”

Gekko pressed his forehead into Iso’s to grab his attention, his eyes serious. 

“You know what I see when I look at you?” Gekko asked. Iso blinked, suddenly frozen under his gaze. 

As he spoke, Gekko leaned back, tilting his head as if he was appraising Iso– his eyes narrow, lips pursed. Iso stared back at him and felt his face burning. 

“I see someone who takes care of his friends,” Gekko began. “Someone who loves music and sweets. Someone funny, who makes me laugh without even trying.”

Time stood still. Gekko looked so beautiful when he smiled . 

“I see someone who is loved by his friends. Someone handsome with a cute laugh, someone who makes me feel safe and happy. But more important than all that?”

There were no sounds but his voice— his gentle, melodic voice . 

Gekko glanced at Iso's lips, his voice a whisper. 

“I see someone I love.”

Iso remembered the years he spent locking away the pieces of himself that wanted , the pieces that loved . He wasn’t allowed to want someone. That life simply wasn’t for him. 

But life is different now, he thought. 

How thankful he was then, to reach his hands up to cradle Gekko’s face, brushing his thumbs across his cheeks, and kiss him with months of unveiled desire. 

Kissing Gekko was like basking in the light of the sun. Iso felt him smile against his lips, a laugh barely escaping before Iso stole it away again, and again. 

Gekko held his wrist in one hand, his other brushing behind Iso’s neck to pull him closer. Iso could barely even register it— Gekko was overwhelming. He never wanted him to end. He wanted to melt into the hand against his neck, to press his body close to Gekko until their hearts beat as one, a melody, a beautiful song.  

Gekko broke away first. Iso chased his lips— he was too lost in the feeling to have any shame about it. He stole one more kiss, gentle and quick, and Gekko laughed. 

His impulse control was failing him now. 

“Did you practice all of that in the mirror?” Gekko asked, his voice dripping with affection. 

Iso had to remember how to speak. “A few times.”

They laughed together, their hands tangled in each other's grasp under the starlight, their lips still inches away. Iso took a deep breath.

Everything about Gekko made him lightheaded. 

“I’m sorry I took so long to say something,” Iso whispered, sheepish. Part of him didn’t quite believe this was real. He couldn’t believe he was allowed to hold Gekko so close, to kiss him like he always wanted. 

Gekko pressed their foreheads together again, his eyes closing. “Don’t be.”

Iso didn’t know if he would ever stop regretting his own indecision. He tried not to focus on the missed opportunities— the missed kisses, the times he didn’t pull Gekko into his arms, the times he wished he had. Instead, he focused on the present. 

He focused on the warmth of the body in front of him, on the lingering taste on his lips. 

“I don’t wanna go back inside just yet,” Iso admitted. 

Gekko laughed against his lips. “Me neither.”

This time, Gekko pulled him closer. The frantic energy of their last kiss had died down, replaced by something calm, something natural. Iso wasn’t much of an expert on any of this— let alone kissing. 

So he let himself flounder. He let himself figure it out as he went, guided by Gekko’s gentle hand at the base of his neck. The rest of the world dulled in comparison to the sunlight in his arms. 

It was all so new to him, but it was all so wonderful. 

“Hey, Zhao Yu,” Gekko said as he broke away a while later, catching his breath. He sounded so shy when he spoke— Iso felt his stomach flip. “I’d love to keep kissing, but I’m getting kind of cold.”

Iso nodded in agreement, as much as he wished he didn’t have to. “Come on, Mateo,” he said, quiet, unable to stop smiling. “Let’s head back.”

Iso slung his arm over Gekko’s shoulders, and as corny as the thought sounded in his head, he smiled at how perfectly he fit against him. It was easy to hold him close. 

Gekko turned to face Iso’s hand on his shoulder, placing a tiny kiss against his knuckles. Only when he looked back to Iso, his eyes alight with mischief, did the realization hit him. 

Iso’s eyes widened– the VLT/R ride. The hand kiss. 

“Oh my god,” Iso said. “You were awake.”

Gekko laughed against his knuckles, pressing another kiss to his hand for good measure. “Yep.” 

Iso dragged his free hand over his face, feeling his blush burn against his palm. “Oh my god,” he repeated.

Gekko laughed, delighted. “You’re so sweet, you know that?” He nuzzled his head against Iso, his hair tickling his neck. 

“If you keep doing this, I’m–” Iso cut himself off. 

Going to what? Die from kindness? The thought was ridiculous. 

“Sorry,” Gekko said, still giggling. “I’m teasing you too much.”

Iso couldn’t stop smiling against his hand. Of all the ways he expected his confession to go, he wasn’t ready to act like a lovestruck fool. Gekko just did something to him— he was completely disarmed. 

“It’s okay,” Iso said after regaining a portion of his composure. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything.” 

As he spoke, he pulled Gekko closer to his side, his heart racing. Gekko let out a sigh, relaxed, happy. 

“I wish we could stay like this for longer” Iso whispered as they walked through the quiet courtyard. The cold breeze tickled his neck.  

I want to keep holding you , he wanted to say. I wish I could hold you forever. 

Gekko looked away, fidgeting with his hands. “I could stay with you tonight.”

Iso paused. “You wanna stay with me?” he repeated, unable to hide the surprise in his tone. 

Gekko seemed to shrink under his arm, his cheeks darkening. He giggled, a bit tense. 

“If you’re okay with it,” Gekko said. “Is that too much? I just wanna be close to you, querido-“

“Querido?” 

They both fell silent. Iso’s cheeks hurt from smiling. 

Now Gekko hid half of his face with one hand, the tips of his ears growing red. Iso would have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy having the upper hand, just this once. 

“That just... came out,” Gekko said. 

Iso cupped Gekko’s cheek, turning his face to meet his eyes. Beside him, Gekko was the most flustered Iso had ever seen him— the sight was stirring something inside of him he couldn’t quite place. Iso placed a kiss against Gekko’s forehead.

“I like it,” Iso said. He caught his breath. “It’s cute. And I would love to have you stay with me tonight. There’s only one condition.”

Gekko tilted his head. “What’s that?”

“Don’t make fun of my interior design.”

***

Iso sat on the edge of his own bed, his hands gripping his legs, his eyes staring forward at the wall. He felt ridiculous like this– acutely aware of his surroundings as he waited for Gekko to finish freshening up. He didn’t want to mess this up.

God, he really didn’t want to mess this up.

Iso’s room was rather barren. He kept his things organized, hidden away in different drawers or baskets on his desk. The only notable feature was the gun resting on his nightstand–  he had awkwardly shoved into the drawer when they first came inside.

Gekko laughed at him just a little for that one. Iso figured he deserved it. 

The bathroom door opened. Gekko stepped out wearing a loose fitting shirt and sweatpants, his socks mismatched— Iso loved how comfortable he looked. The sight helped to soothe his nerves.

It was funny, Iso thought, how often he worried about making mistakes, about messing up even simple moments with his friends. Every single time those worries seemed to fade away when he looked them in the eyes and, like the clouds parting, remembered he was loved. 

Gekko smiled at him, bright. “I like your room, Zhao Yu,” he said. “It’s calm.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Iso said, scratching his neck. He had spent so much time in Gekko’s room that his own looked like an empty shell.

Gekko hopped onto the bed beside him, crossing his legs. He reached for Iso’s arm, holding it between his hands— his touch was so warm, so gentle. 

“No mural wall?” Gekko asked.

Iso followed his eyes toward the far wall of the room. The screen was gray. 

“Oh,” Iso said, laughing under his breath. “Let me turn it on…”

He fumbled with his phone, adjusting the controls until the lights began to glow, filling the room vivid oranges and yellows. Iso looked up, panicked, remembering he had last set it to–

“Los Angeles?” Gekko asked, eyes wide.

Iso bit his lip. “I change it often,” he said, and it wasn’t necessarily a lie. Iso didn’t have any particular place outside of HQ that he considered home. Not anymore. “I uh… I liked it in your room. It’s nice.”

Gekko watched the projected skyline with a dreamy smile, the colors washing over his face in a way that made Iso want to kiss him again, and again. He restrained himself, instead reaching for Gekko’s hand.

He still couldn’t believe he was allowed to do that now.

“Sometimes I pretend it’s real,” Iso admitted. “I’d love to visit someday.”

Gekko reacted instantly to his touch, leaning his head against Iso’s shoulder as they watched the shifting colors of the sunset, the light reflecting off the metal walls— pink clouds, a golden sun, the silhouettes of the city. Iso let himself breathe.

“We should visit,” Gekko said, like it was that simple. “We could make it a vacation.”

“I don’t know if Sage is over our last vacation,” Iso said, shrugging. Still, the thought excited him, his heart racing.

“I could get Reyna to talk to the commanders,” Gekko continued, nuzzling his cheek against Iso. His fingers traced down his forearm and Iso shivered— it was impossible to focus.

Iso held back a laugh. “I think she would do more than ‘talk’ with them.”

“Okay,” Gekko laughed. “Maybe she would lowkey threaten them, but if it gets the job done can you really complain?”

Iso laughed with him, turning to wrap his arms around Gekko’s body. It felt so strange to hold him without their normal clothes– it was vulnerable, in the best way.

“I would love to go with you, Mateo,” Iso said, and he emphasized his words with another kiss to Gekko’s forehead. “But I think you already know that.”

Gekko hummed at the touch, his eyes fluttering shut, his body melting against Iso. For a quiet moment, Iso just held him. He took in the smell of his hair, the feeling of his hands against his back— he felt like he was floating. 

He felt like he could float forever with Gekko in his arms. 

“I’m tired,” Gekko whispered, and Iso thought of movie night. He thought about the things he wished he could have done then, if not for his stupid, tipsy mind. 

And just as he moved to lay down beside him, Gekko yanked him down– sudden, his laughter ringing out around the room. Iso fell forward, his head landing over Gekko’s chest as the boy pulled him closer, tighter, his hands moving to rest against his scalp.

Iso, for the first time in his life, genuinely didn’t know what to do next.

“What are you doing?” Iso asked, his voice cracking.

Gekko hummed again. “Holding you.”

“Holding me,” Iso repeated.

Gekko slung one of the blankets over them both, wiggling around until Iso was slotted snuggly against his chest. Iso stayed frozen, focused on the feeling of a warm hand carding through his hair.

No one had ever touched him like this. Like he was precious.

Gekko traced his knuckles down the side of Iso’s face as the lights dimmed. Iso pressed his face further into the fabric of his shirt, seeking the warmth and safety of Gekko’s arms.

“Is this okay?” Gekko asked, quiet.

Iso felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes– but he didn’t care. He couldn’t control it. Funny, he thought, he never even considered the possibility of being held by Gekko– he would have done anything to stay in this moment. He didn’t know it was possible to feel safety like this. 

He couldn’t lose this.

“It’s perfect,” Iso whispered, letting his eyes finally close. He felt the exhaustion of the day pulling down, deeper, until nothing mattered but the rise and fall of Gekko’s chest, his hand in his hair, and the steady beat of his heart. 

As Iso let his mind fade into the heaven around him, a final thought rang through his head. 

I could get used to this. 

***

Red.

It’s up to his ankles. That’s how it starts. 

Blood has a terrible feeling in Iso’s nightmares. It’s thick— sticking to his legs in horrid clumps and strings as he pushes through it, his eyes stuck forward. He can’t look down. He can’t look up.

He doesn’t want to, because what happens next is always the same— a figure falls from the dark void of the ceiling, like hell raining down, and the blood rises. It’s up to his knees, now. 

Iso feels himself forgetting how to breathe. Everything about the world around him is sickening— the color, the smell, the way it soaks into his skin like death itself. Another body falls and he flinches. 

There is never anything he can do to stop it. The blood will rise until he drowns. 

Sometimes he feels hands reaching from below trying to pull him down. Sometimes he sees eyes out of the corner of his vision, watching, burning holes against his body. The eyes of family members. The eyes of children. 

The victims of his actions who weren’t in the contract.

Iso steps forward again, bracing for the splash of another body, but it doesn’t come. There is a weight against his chest— sturdy, warm in the way that matters. He touches over his heart, and for one moment, he sees the red begin to dull. 

That’s strange, he thinks— and the world tilts on its axis. 

Iso opened his eyes.

He was staring at the metal ceiling of his room, his hands gripping tight against the sheets. This routine was familiar now. Taking slow, calming breaths, refusing to move until he felt the imaginary layer of blood fade from his skin— but he didn’t feel it anymore. 

He felt something else. Something warm, something stable, pressing against his heart. Iso looked down, hesitant, and realized it was Gekko’s hand resting against his chest.

Mateo.

At some point in the night, the two of them had rolled over each other— Iso lay flat on his back, Gekko’s head lay against his shoulder. The sight shocked any lingering feeling of Iso’s nightmare out of his head. 

But then, Gekko began to stir, mumbling something incoherent against Iso’s neck, and Iso did the only thing he could think to do in a moment of panic– he pretended to be asleep. He shut his eyes, still feeling his heart hammering below Gekko’s hand. 

Above him, he felt Gekko rise to his elbows, lethargic, his head still resting against Iso’s neck. Even in the dark of his room, even with his eyes shut, Iso still felt Gekko’s eyes scanning his face. He nearly shuddered, focusing all of his energy into not breaking the act.

I can’t ruin this, his mind repeated. I can’t.

After a few seconds, he felt Gekko shift again— Iso held his breath. Gekko planted a kiss against the corner of Iso’s lips, soft, his body pressing the warmth into his own like petals to a page. He felt Gekko smile, just barely.

“You’re smiling too,” Gekko whispered. 

Oops. 

Gekko laid his head back upon Iso’s chest before he had a chance to argue, resting his hand against his heart once more. Iso was too tired to be stubborn. He placed his own hand over Gekko’s, their fingers locking together, stable, warm.

They fell asleep again in each other's arms.

***

By the morning, Iso and Gekko had separated again, laying beside each other in equally ridiculous positions. The first thing Iso saw was Gekko’s face half obscured by the blanket, the short strands of his hair sticking up. 

It was the cutest thing he had ever seen. 

Without thinking, Iso reached over to cup Gekko’s cheek— the action stirred him from his light sleep, his eyes blinking open slowly, a lazy smile spreading across his face. Iso felt fire beneath his skin at the sight.

“Good morning, handsome,” Gekko said through a giggle, nuzzling against Iso’s hand. 

Iso loved how his skin felt beneath his palm— soft, warm, like he had been laying in the sun. He loved it even more how Gekko seemed to press closer, chasing his touch.

“How did you sleep?” Gekko asked. 

Iso came closer. “Better than I usually do,” he admitted. “Thank you for… being here, I guess.”

Gekko’s eyes were still tired, half-lidded. “It was a nightmare, right?”

Ah. So he didn’t dream it. 

“Yes,” Iso said, looking away from his eyes. “But it’s fine.”

“Zhao Yu.”

Iso’s eyes snapped to Gekko on command. He offered a weak smile. 

“If you ever wanna talk about it, I’m here,” Gekko whispered. “I’m also happy to just hold you like a little grumpy cat too.”

I love you more than you could know, is what Iso wanted to say. He wanted to shout it at the top of his lungs. Instead, he smiled, feeling another layer of his mask peeling away. 

Iso chuckled. “Thank you, Mateo,” he said. “You’re very good at it.”

“If we’re gonna be boyfriends now, I gotta step up my game,” Gekko said, and Iso felt himself short-circuit. 

Boyfriends. 

They were boyfriends. 

“Hey baby,” Gekko sang, low, trying to lure Iso from his shock. There was a hint of amusement in his tone. “You’re all blushy.”

It was true— Iso felt like his face was nuclear. 

“This doesn’t feel real,” was all Iso could say. 

He moved close enough to place a kiss against Gekko’s lips, focusing on the way he melted under his touch, the way he followed Iso’s movements. Iso felt overwhelmed by it, his mind still half-asleep. 

“I never expected you to be so touchy, honestly,” Gekko said as they broke away. “I really love it.”

Iso kissed him again. “How could I not touch you?”

Gekko hummed, low and satisfied, relenting to another kiss— this one deeper, hungry, as Iso lifted himself to his elbows to get a better angle. He felt the fire under his skin spreading, threatening to consume him. 

“Zhao Yu, you’re so–“ Gekko’s voice was swallowed by another kiss. Iso just couldn’t stop himself. It was like his mind running on autopilot. 

Gekko cupped Iso’s face between his hands, his eyes closing, his body gravitating towards him. Iso felt Gekko sigh against his lips, and something inside of him ignited. 

Iso pulled away long enough to crawl on top of Gekko, clumsy, fueled purely by the still-foggy desire in his mind. The boy under his hands was all he could think of— his lips, his body, his warmth . Iso planted his knees on either side of Gekko, his hands roaming across his soft, clothed chest. His heat radiated through to Iso’s palms. 

Gekko made a muffled noise of surprise before falling back into a steady rhythm, his hands holding Iso’s face like a lifeline in the storm. Iso loved how he arched his back, straining to get closer— to get closer to him. 

Nothing but their heavy breaths between kisses, their hands roaming across each other's skin, Iso’s head spinning, overwhelmed, threatening to burst. God.

Why couldn’t he breathe?

“Zhao Yu,” Gekko said after a moment, breathing hard. “You’re shaking.”

Iso pulled back. 

“Oh,” was all he could manage to say. 

He felt his muscles lock, his chest tightening— no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move. He didn’t know what to do next.  

Gekko brushed his hand over Iso’s cheek. “Hey, look at me,” he whispered. “Is this what you want?”

Iso felt his mind blanking. Is it?

“I want to give you everything,” Iso said, hesitating. He let out a laugh, half-hearted, tense. “I made you wait long enough, didn’t I?”

Gekko looked at him with a sad smile, one that made his chest pang with a feeling he couldn't quite place. 

“We can take this as slow as we want,” Gekko whispered, assuring. “There’s no rush.”

Iso sat back and admired the boy beneath him— disheveled hair, wet lips, dreamy eyes. Iso felt like this sight was too good to be his own. 

“It’s not… that I don’t want to,” Iso began, feeling his voice waver. 

Gekko let out a laugh. “I know. I can feel that.”

Damn it.

Iso nearly buried his face back into his chest, but Gekko held Iso’s face between his hands, his eyes clearly reading it's okay. He giggled, apologetic. The sound soothed Iso’s nerves, just a bit. He took another breath as Gekko smoothed his thumbs across his cheeks, comforting.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Iso admitted after a moment. It felt so strange to say it out loud. “It’s all so new to me.”

Gekko smiled at him in a way that made him feel he deserved it, that he deserved this warmth and kindness. 

“Then we go slow,” Gekko said, luring Iso back down with his hands against his face. Iso let himself be pulled down onto Gekko’s chest, his ear pressing to his heart, a gentle hand carding through his hair. 

The touch seemed to flip a switch in Iso’s head— he felt himself shutting down, his thoughts replaced by the beat of Gekko’s heart, his body soaking up the warmth. 

“Sorry,” Iso mumbled, his cheeks flushed. 

Gekko played with little strands of Iso’s hair. “You’re too hard on yourself, sometimes,” he whispered.

“I guess,” Iso said. “I just…”

“Tell me.”

Iso took a breath, focusing on Gekko’s gentle hands. “I don’t want to mess this up,” he repeated. “I don’t want to go too fast, or too slow. I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

Gekko laughed a little, Iso’s head bouncing on his chest. “I said I loved you because I do, Zhao Yu. Every part of you,” he said, light. “You don’t have to pretend like you know what you’re doing. You think I ever know what I’m doing?”

“You make it look easy,” Iso said, smiling. He loved the way Gekko’s heart beat against his ear.

“Relationships can be scary,” Gekko said. “But that’s why we’re doing this together, you know?”

“You’re right,” he said, shutting his eyes. Gekko always was. He let Gekko pamper him, slow, mesmerizing, twirling strands of his hair between his fingertips. “I do like this part, though. I like cuddling.”

“Oh, such a softie,” Gekko teased, and Iso groaned against his chest. “Sorry, sorry. I just love how you act when we’re alone.”

“Like a big idiot?”

“Kinda. I just feel special,” Gekko laughed.  “And don’t say ‘you are’. That’s too corny, even for you.”

Iso giggled— actually giggled— against Gekko’s chest. He felt Gekko’s smile like the sun above him.

“Soy tan afortunado de tenerte,” Gekko sighed. 

Iso rolled his eyes. “Ròu má.” 

“What does that mean?” 

Iso tilted his head to look up at Gekko, his smile growing. “Nothing, bǎobèi .”

“Bǎobèi?” Gekko nearly shouted, ignoring Iso’s laughter. “Are you serious? That’s so cute.”

Iso felt his face burning, just barely. “You like it?”

“Yes,” Gekko said. “You should call me more cute names.”

Iso hesitated. He remembered the nickname that had rattled around in his mind for the last couple of weeks. 

 “How do you like ‘Teo?” he asked, biting his lip.

Gekko brushed the bangs from Iso’s face, observing him like a fine work of art, his eyes alight with adoration. 

“It’s perfect.”

Iso was glad he didn’t have to hold it back anymore . He rose to his elbows again, shuffling further up Gekko’s chest. Their legs tangled together under the blankets. 

“We need to get up soon,” Iso said after a moment, glancing at the clock on his nightstand. It was nearly time for team breakfast– Brimstone would not be happy if they were late. 

Gekko sighed, turning Iso’s head back towards him with his fingertips. “We still have a little time… don’t we?”

There was mischief in his tone— Iso would never miss it. He smiled, placing a quick kiss against Gekko’s lips before he could stop himself.

“I love you,” he said, once more.

Gekko lowered his voice to a whisper. “I love you too,” he said. “You don’t have to do anything else, querido. This will always be enough.”

This will be enough. 

As he melted further under Gekko’s touch, meeting him in another quiet, lazy kiss, Iso couldn’t agree more. 

***

When Gekko entered the kitchen wearing Iso’s hoodie, no one said a word. There wasn’t even a wayward glance. It seemed almost natural, Iso thought. Maybe everyone else saw it the same way. They had been like this for so long, glued to each other's side– their kiss was just the final piece falling into place.

Gekko dragged him forward by the hand, and Iso followed. He had never seen so many agents in one place before.

The smell was divine. Platters of fresh fruit, pancakes, eggs, bacon— truly the most American breakfast, and Brimstone couldn’t have looked more satisfied if he tried. Beside him, Sage and a few other agents were helping prep food— cutting fruits, cracking eggs, even squeezing oranges into a jug. Neon seemed to struggle with it, giggling with Raze as they decimated the bag of fruit. 

Iso even spotted Phoenix trying to cook an egg by placing the pan in his hand. It wasn’t working very well. 

The only strange occurrence among the organized chaos came in the form it always had— Yoru and Jett, standing together by the doorway. They were staring at Iso. Again. 

He was sick of this. 

The moment Iso approached them, Jett stopped speaking, her eyes wide. Beside her, Yoru sighed. 

“Okay,” Iso began, crossing his arms. “What is up with you two?

Jett stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“You’re whispering and looking at me,” Iso said. “Multiple times, now.”

The night market. Movie night . 

“Oh,” Jett laughed, poorly hiding her nerves. “Well, funny you should mention that—“

“We made a bet,” Yoru interrupted her, deadpan. 

“And he lost!” Jett pumped her fist in the air. 

“A bet?” Iso asked. He glanced between the two of them. 

Jett held her head high. “I said you would be the first to confess.”

Excuse me? Iso looked at Yoru expectantly. 

“…And I said Gekko would,” Yoru sighed. He rolled his eyes as Jett clapped her hands together, bursting with excitement. 

Iso looked between them again, faster. “How do you know who—“

“Dude,” Jett stopped him. “If it was up to Gekko, you guys would have been dating two weeks ago.”

Iso opened his mouth, but words failed him. He really couldn’t argue with that. 

“At this point I was just waiting to lose,” Yoru admitted. “Don’t take it the wrong way.”

“I don’t—“ Iso cleared his throat. “How long?”

Jett blinked. “How long has the bet been going?”

“Yes.”

She counted quietly on her fingers. “About, uh… when did we play basketball that one time?”

“Oh my god,” Iso said. 

“Hey,” Yoru grabbed his attention. He leaned against the wall, his shoulders relaxed, a faint smile on his lips. “Congrats.”

Iso felt the burn in his cheeks fading, slowly. 

Jett smiled now. “Seriously,” she said. “I’m happy for you guys. And not just because I won, I promise.”

Iso couldn’t help but smile. Part of him felt like he should be upset, like he should try to defend himself— but he knew they were right. If anything, he found a strange joy in the fact it was so obvious. 

He didn’t see it, at first. He couldn’t understand the feeling he had when he looked at Gekko across the room. He didn’t know why his nerves faded when he heard his voice. Now, Iso knew. 

He knew it better than anything. 

“Did Phoenix know about the bet?” Iso asked them. 

Jett sighed. “No,” she said. “He would have told us to knock it off.”

Iso laughed. Of course. 

“Speaking of Jamie,” Yoru said, pushing off the wall. “He’s going to burn the base down if he tries to light the stove like that— hold on.”

Jett and Iso watched him shuffle towards the kitchen assembly line, frantic, descending into a quiet bickering session with Phoenix. Jett nudged Iso with her elbow. 

“Sooo,” she said, sing-song. “How do you feel?”

Iso followed her gaze to Gekko sitting happily at the table with Wings in his arms, speaking excitedly with Killjoy about something he couldn’t quite hear. 

He was the light source for the entire room. 

“It feels…” Iso’s heart hammered in his chest. “Perfect, I think. It really does.”

It really does. Iso couldn’t even think of a better way to describe it. 

Jett smiled, nudging him again. “Well?” She asked. “Go get ‘em tiger. I gotta go deal with my boys.”

Jett scurried off, joining the others by the sizzling stove. Iso smiled to himself, walking back over to his…

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. 

He didn’t even have to think as he sat beside Gekko at the table, reaching to take his hand. Gekko’s smile grew radiant. 

“Zhao Yu,” Gekko said, giggling.“You won’t believe what Klara just told me…”

Iso listened to him ramble, vibrant, gesturing with his hands as Wingman crawled over his shoulders. He swore he was listening— he was— but time seemed to slow. He was blanketed by the warmth of his friends, the warmth of this moment. 

He glanced around the room, quick. Deadlock sat beside Fade, watching her speak as she drank her morning coffee— Fade’s brew. Their eyes caught for a moment, and Deadlock lifted the mug in Iso’s direction, her eyes bright with a smile. 

She was opening up too, it seemed, and Iso couldn’t have felt more proud.

“Hey,” Gekko said, drawing his attention again. “You forgot your earbuds.”

Iso absently touched his ear— he hadn’t even noticed. 

Three months ago, Iso would have hidden behind the wash of melodies in his ears. He would have drowned out the voices and sounds around him, overwhelming his thoughts until nothing could break through the barrier of his mind. 

But Gekko showed him how to listen. He showed him to listen to more than the music inside his head, but to the sounds of life. Laughter. The city streets. Movies. The sizzle of fresh meals. The distant sea. Shoes against rocky trails. Morning sunlight. The open sky. 

Iso had come to realize… the noise was nice. 

He looked at Gekko, a smile growing on his lips. “I don’t need them,” he said. 

Iso didn’t know if he could have ever imagined himself like this— surrounded by people he loves and who love him in return. The Dead Lilac didn’t have friends. He didn’t have family. He didn’t even have a home. 

Li Zhao Yu had everything. He had the entire world. 

Zhao Yu looked between his friends— he heard their laughter, he saw their smiles, their kind eyes. He felt their touch against his shoulder, warm, stable. When he breathed, he felt weightless, like the room around him was a dream painted in golden light. 

This was his family now. 

And as he looked at the boy beside him— Mateo, smiling like Zhao Yu was the world that orbited his sunlight— he had never been more sure of his path. 

I belong here, he thought. 

And this life is my own. 

Chapter Text

Iso had grown to love the way Gekko kissed him in the mornings.

He loved the curious fingertips against his cheek, the toothy smile against his lips. Gekko always giggled before their lips touched, like he couldn’t help it. There was always a rattle of excitement in his chest that escaped him— like the light flooding back into the room. 

It had only been three weeks since Iso first kissed Gekko, but each time felt just as thrilling as the first. Because Iso loved it. He loved him.

Sometimes, Gekko was even the first thing he felt in the mornings— like now, as he pressed a warm kiss against Iso’s cheek, stirring him awake. 

And as Iso blinked his eyes open in the dull, sunset light of his own room, the weight of his boyfriend pressing him against his bed, a thought struck him. 

Gekko hadn’t stayed the night. 

“Did you break into my room?” Iso asked, his eyes still half-shut. 

He felt Gekko kiss him again. “It sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Teo,” Iso said, finally opening his eyes.

Gekko was on top of the blankets, wearing one of Iso’s shirts he had taken last week, a guilty smile on his face. He had been awake for a while. Iso could tell from the way his eyes shined. 

“You did give me the code,” Gekko reminded him. 

“It was for emergencies,” Iso said, but he couldn’t be mad. It was practically impossible when Gekko looked at him so sweetly, like he was the only thing on his mind. 

Gekko rolled to Iso’s side, slinging his arm around him through the blankets. Iso found himself nuzzling closer, his face inches away from Gekko’s smile. 

“Well, maybe this is an emergency,” Gekko said. “Did you think of that?”

Iso sighed, his eyes still adjusting to the light. He saw Gekko, blurry, looking back at him.“Alright, what did you do?”

Gekko laughed, bright. “Now, why do you assume I did something bad?”

“Mateo.”

“Honestly, mi amor, you should have a little more faith in me—”

Gekko was cut off by the force of Iso grabbing him and pressing him against the bed. He squealed, both in shock and delight, as Iso squeezed him tightly in his arms. 

“It’s too early to be this cheeky,” Iso mumbled, burying his face into Gekko’s neck. “Out with it.”

Gekko tried to wriggle free, but Iso was stronger. He held him in place like a brick on his chest, planting kisses against his neck as payback. 

“Okay! Fine, I’ll tell you,” Gekko said through a laugh. “O-okay! You know that tickles—“

Iso loved even more the way Gekko acted when he kissed him. He could feel his laughter in his throat, the way his skin heated, his chest pounding. It was almost too easy to tease him like this— kissing him until he was too flustered to speak. 

Iso felt merciful this morning, or perhaps he was just too sleepy to fully appreciate Gekko’s reddened cheeks. He loosened his hold. 

“You’re the worst ,” Gekko said as Iso pulled back, staring up at him with his big, ridiculous eyes. 

Iso hummed, a satisfied smile on his lips. “I love you too.”

Gekko took a slow breath, collecting himself from the onslaught of smooches.  

“They said yes.”

Iso stared back at him, his thoughts hitching. Did he hear that right?  

“You mean—?”

“Yes,” Gekko repeated, his own smile returning. “Brim even said LA should be nice this time of year.” 

Their vacation. Iso had almost forgotten about it in the midst of everything else in their lives— mostly the life-threatening missions, but who was keeping track? 

“Oh my god,” Iso said. He cupped Gekko’s cheek, his eyes scanning over his features. “Mateo, that’s great!”

Gekko beamed at him. “Reyna really went to bat for us,” he said. “We owe her. Big time.”

Iso couldn’t help but laugh. He ran his thumb along the ridge of Gekko’s cheek, admiring how perfect he looked laying back against his pillow. 

“I think we might be indebted for life,” Iso said. 

“Then let’s make it count, yeah?” Gekko snuck in another quick kiss against the corner of Iso’s lips. “I can’t believe it, babe. I have so many things I want to show you…”

Iso fell back to his side and wrapped his arms around Gekko as he spoke, pulling him tight against his chest. It was easy now to melt into each other like this— like water into a stream. It was muscle memory. 

Gekko turned his face so they were looking at each other, inches apart. “Oh, Zhao Yu,” he whispered. “You’re going to love it.”

“I know I will,” Iso said, letting his eyes shut. He focused on Gekko’s warmth seeping through the sleeves of his sweater. “I can’t believe we get it all to ourselves.”

Iso felt Gekko tense at that. 

“Yeah, uh, about that,” Gekko said, sheepish. “A few others are coming.”

Iso let out the smallest sigh of defeat. Gekko brushed the hair out of his face, assuring. 

“It’s an expensive trip,” Gekko continued. “It just made sense to let a few other agents have some vacation time too, I guess.”

“Yeah… that makes sense,” Iso said against Gekko’s neck, nuzzling his face closer. He felt how Gekko jolted sometimes, just barely, when his breath tickled his flesh. 

“On the bright side, we all get our own places to stay,” Gekko said, still threading his fingers through Iso’s hair. In a way, it was like soothing an upset pet— and in a way, it worked. 

“Good,” Iso said, grinning. “Who is going?” 

“Jamie, Ryo and Sunwoo,” Gekko held up one hand, counting on his fingers. “Then there’s us, and Clove.” 

Iso peeked open one eye. “Clove?”

“Sage suggested it,” Gekko said. “They’re still new and need some ‘team bonding’ experience.” 

Iso paused. “Do you think they might feel left out, considering…”

Considering they’re between two obnoxious relationships. 

Gekko laughed. “Nah, they don’t strike me as the type. Plus, they really love my homies.” He looked at Iso, his eyes bright. “It might be nice to have someone to watch them while we’re out, ya know?”

Iso raised a brow. “A babysitter.”

Gekko nodded, undeterred. “Yes,” he said, serious. “A very unkillable, very Scottish babysitter.”

Iso laughed, sudden and bright against Gekko’s neck. It was messy, loud— a sound he reserved only for him. 

“I guess I’ll have to get a bathing suit for the beach,” Iso said after a moment. 

Gekko stared back, wide-eyed. 

“What is it?” Iso asked. 

“Huh? Sorry,” Gekko looked away, visibly rosey. “Just thinking about you shirtless on the beach.”

Iso couldn’t help the swell of pride he felt in his chest, or the heat under his skin. He felt it around Gekko quite often lately— he still wasn’t sure what to do about it yet. 

“You’re cute,” he said instead, kissing Gekko’s reddened cheeks. He smelled fresh from a shower— like fruit. Maybe he was just getting hungry.

“What are you doing today?” Gekko asked him, pressing his forehead into Iso’s.

Iso sighed. “Running some drills with Iselin,” he said. “She’s helping Clove with their aim.” 

“Ah,” Gekko laughed. “She’s bringing in the expert for help, then?”

“Something like that,” Iso said, wishing he could stay holding Gekko for the rest of the day. He tucked his face under Gekko’s chin again, breathing deep. “…So when is the trip?”

“Next week,” Gekko said. “I thought you could come by later and help me start packing?”

Iso smiled. He liked to think he had gotten better at reading people, at reading Gekko, specifically. “Are you sure this isn’t a ploy to stay up gaming, again?”

Gekko rolled his eyes. “You have like, no faith in me.”

“I have plenty,” Iso said, kissing his neck. He felt Gekko shudder, and part of his mind filed it away. “But yes, qīn'ài de, I’ll swing by after practice.”

Beside him, Gekko smiled, radiant, as he always did. Iso felt the light on his cheeks. 

“Good,” Gekko said, and he rolled out of bed. He smoothed the wrinkles out of his stolen, slightly oversized shirt with his hands. “Now, shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Iso felt welded to his bed. “I’m getting there.”

“Right.” Gekko laughed, already walking towards the door. There was a little hop in his step, like his joy was too big for him to contain. Charming. “I’ll see you later, babe.”

“See you,” Iso sighed against the blankets. 

Gekko stopped in the doorway. “Oh, and Zhao Yu?” he began. “Go easy on Clove. They’re still new to all this, ya know?”

Iso remembered his first week at the protocol. He remembered the tension in his shoulders, the sting of eyes on the back of his neck. If there was anything he could do to lessen the weight on a new recruit's shoulders, he would do it. 

Iso nodded, firm, and watched Gekko slip out of the room. 

***

“Stop.”

Deadlock placed her hand over the top of Clove’s sheriff, holding it firmly in place. From where Iso leaned against the back wall of the range, he had a perfect view of their lesson. The music in his ears played just low enough to hear Deadlock’s tampered sigh of frustration. 

“Did I do it wrong?” Clove asked, glancing between the unhit target and their instructor. 

Deadlock narrowed her eyes. “Remember the gun safety I told you about,” she began, calmer now, as she placed her other hand on Clove’s shoulder. “Never point your weapon anywhere except towards your target. Keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.”

“Ah, right. Sorry.” Clove nodded, a slight pinch of nerves between their brow. Iso could see the newfound tension in their shoulders. “Just… aim at the enemy. Easy.”

Clove laughed through the nerves, lighthearted. Deadlock stepped back from them, allowing them another shot at the target. They fired twice— both shots sent a visible wave of energy up their arms, rattling their hands. 

The target remained intact. Clove groaned.

“You need to get a feel for the recoil,” Iso offered, stepping up to their other side. He looked at Deadlock. “Are you sure that’s a good starter weapon?”

Deadlock glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “They need to learn how to handle the force.”

“Oh, I can handle it alright,” Clove said, a sly smile spreading across their face. They took another shot at the target, and Iso was barely fast enough to grab their wrist before the sheriff flipped out of their hands. 

All of them were quiet for a moment, Iso and Deadlock staring at Clove’s slowly reddening face. 

They coughed. “Alright… maybe I can’t, but ya can’t blame me for trying? Right?”

“Are you okay?” Deadlock asked, setting the gun on the ledge in front of them. Iso had known her long enough to recognize the different faces she put on. Now, she was serious, firm. But even still, a bit of concern bled through every word. 

Maybe there was a part of her that felt responsible for this new recruit, beyond just the range. She wanted Clove to be ready— for anything. The weight rested on her shoulders to ensure they survived their first mission. Iso could feel it.

His eyes flicked towards the target— at least they hit it, this time. “That’s progress,” he said.

Beside him, Clove smiled. “Thanks. I’m a real natural, as you can tell.”

“I’ll reset the range.” Deadlock squeezed Clove’s shoulder, her voice a bit exhausted. “Stay here.”

Iso watched her fiddle with the control panel, bringing the targets forward to reset their marks. This area of the range had seen far less use than the bot room, but it was good for simple practice. These targets couldn’t shoot back. There were simple mechanics— targets popping up in random order, sliding back and forth to simulate enemy movement, but not much else.

Iso felt a nudge in his side.

“It’s Iso, right?” Clove asked him, their head tilted. “Gekko was telling me all about you.”

Iso blinked. “He was?”

“Yeah, he said you’ve got a great taste in music.” There was a glint of mischief in Clove’s shining eyes. “Among other things.”

Iso opened his mouth to speak, but he froze. What had Gekko told them?

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Clove laughed. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

Iso let his shoulders relax. “Ah, right,” he said. “I heard you’re joining us for the trip next week.”

“Seems so. You know, I’ve never been to a big city like that before.” Clove rolled to their heels and back. “Gekko said the beaches are great this time of year, and also he’s really looking forward to seeing you shirtless again.”

What.

“Targets recalibrated,” Deadlocked interrupted. “Let’s try this again.

Iso heard the metallic snap of the targets realigning themselves against the far wall, but his thoughts were a bit scattered. Deadlock stepped back up to Clove’s other side, her arms crossed.

“We could swap to something with less recoil,” she said. “If you think it would help.”

Clove’s hand hovered over the sheriff again, hesitant. “You know, maybe I’d shoot better with a demonstration?” Clove said a second later. Their attention snapped to Iso, and they batted their lashes oh-so-innocently. 

Iso glanced between Clove and the fresh targets at the edge of the range, connecting the dots. Fine. He could afford to show off.

“That’s a good idea,” he said. He felt the energy at his fingertips pulsing.

Deadlock rolled her eyes at him, gesturing towards the main target. “Go ahead.”

It was a shot he could have taken in his sleep, but Iso did his best to set a good example— a wide stance, strong posture, and a slow, calculating breath. Clove was practically glued to his side, studying his every move. Iso focused.

Bang! He pierced the target right between the eyes. 

“Woah,” Clove said, giving him a tiny applause, their rings clinking together. “So, what’s your secret?”

Iso flipped open the cylinder of the sheriff, reloading. “Hard work and determination.”

“Wow,” Deadlock said. She was smirking at him. “You’re so full of shit.” 

“It’s the music, isn’t it?” Clove tapped at their ear, then pointed at Iso’s. “Yep. It’s the music.”

“The music helps,” Iso said, offering a smile. He had never been much of a teacher, but he was a good shot— that had to count for something. “But I am serious. You’ll get better if you keep running the drills with Deadlock.”

“Yeah, I know,” they sighed, kicking their shoe against the barrier. They spun one of the rings around their finger, nearly pouting.

“We all play to our strengths in combat,” Deadlock said to them. “You don’t have to be the best shot.”

Iso nodded. “Your radiance is a weapon, just like your gun.” He placed a hand on their shoulder, squeezing against the soft fabric of their jacket. It reminded him of Gekko’s hand on his own shoulder, all those months ago. “ So use it .”

Clove stared back at him, and he could see the gears turning behind their eyes— he saw a flicker of something within them, like magic, like rebirth. 

“I can do that,” Clove said, breaking into another clever grin. 

They dragged their hand up, their eyes closing for just a moment. A trail of pearlescent energy, purples, pinks, all reflecting against the light of the room, spinning in their palm, like it held a force that demanded to escape. Then, a pop .

A radiant butterfly rested against their finger. Deadlock and Iso shared a quick glance— uncertain, strangely delighted.

Clove took a step forward, hurling their entire body into the throw as they sent the ball of energy flying toward the target. It hit the floor like a sack of dust exploding. Those same colors clung against the target, like dripping, ethereal energy. Something about it had changed. Iso could feel it.

Clove reached again for the sheriff, doing their best to mimic the form Iso used previously, their shoulders tense. They raised the revolver, eyes focused intently on the iron sights, knuckles white. They held their breath.

Beside them, Iso leaned closer, tracking their gaze. 

“Breathe,” he said, “then commit.”

Clove released a slow, easy breath, their eyes narrowing. They pulled back on the trigger slowly, steadily, until finally— bang! The bullet tore straight through the gut of the paper target. 

Then, like the entire stand was made of glass, it crumpled. 

“Yes!” Clove shouted, pumping one of their fists. They pointed towards the target, and their fingertips glowed that same wash of vibrant colors. “Did you see that?”

“Well done, Clove” Deadlock said, hands on her hips. “That was great.”

Iso nodded, proud. “Maybe you are a natural.” He looked towards the wrecked target stand, a small laugh escaping him. “That power isn’t so bad either.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Clove said, embellishing with a tiny bow. “It helps when the whole thing falls over like a bag of pebbles.”

“You’re doing well,” Deadlock said. “If you keep it up, you’ll be mission ready in no time.”

Clove’s joy was as bright as their radiance— infectious, delightful. Iso felt it against his own, like a melody. 

Clove turned to Deadlock. “All this practice is great, but how about we put on some music, yeah?” They bounced on their toes. “We can set up the movement for the targets and all that, then we can all have a bit of fun?”

Iso looked at Deadlock, nearly apologetic. He hadn’t meant to derail her lesson like this, but her expression wasn’t upset. In a way, she looked relieved.

“I don’t see why not,” Deadlock said, shrugging. “You’ve worked hard so far today. Maybe it will help with your reaction time.”

Iso leaned back against the barrier. “First one to fifty headshots?”

“Fifty?” Deadlock said, like he had greatly offended her. “Make it a hundred.”

“Deal.”

Clove rushed over to their bag hanging by the door, rummaging through it until they found a small, multicolored speaker. They grinned.

“Deal?” They asked. “What are we shooting for?”

Deadlock slammed the side of her fist against the wall panel, and the range roared to life. Targets moved across the room, circling, popping from the floor— it reminded Iso of some kind of carnival game. A very loud, very excessive carnival game. 

“Bragging rights,” Deadlock said, staring directly at Iso. There was a certain determination behind her eyes that wasn’t there before. Who knew she could be so competitive? “Unless you have a better idea?”

Clove stepped between them, cutting through their tension like a live wire. They smacked their tiny speaker against the ledge, the music blasting out around the room. 

“How about whichever one of yous wins gets to pick the music for next time?” Clove shouted, loud over the roaring bass. 

Iso took out his own earbuds, stuffing them into his pocket. Clove’s music was energetic, vibrant, like a wave of sound thrumming through his veins. Perfect.

Deadlock unholstered the pistol from her leg, smiling one of her rare, glinting smiles. “Deal.”

What followed was perhaps not the most accurate of combat simulations for a new recruit, but from the way Clove hollered and cheered for their fellow teammates, Iso knew it was worth every second. It also reminded him of something else he had forgotten— Deadlock was fast. Her reactions were instantaneous, like the sound of a target popping up funneled directly into her hands, into the quick pull of the trigger. 

Clove was getting better too. Their eyes scanned the targets like a hunter, their aim getting better with every shot. But Iso couldn’t focus on them for long— he had a real mission to accomplish. Important, of course. Very important.

At last, the final target fell. Deadlock’s eyes followed its trail directly to the end of Iso’s sheriff, to the smoke rising at the end of its heated barrel.

“Not bad,” she said, letting out a short laugh. “You beat me by one.”

“You’re both insane,” Clove said. “Like wickedly insane… I love it.”

Iso set his gun on the ledge, flexing his fingers. “Music privileges huh?” he said. “I wonder if you’re a polka fan.”

“Du våger ikke.”

Iso laughed, gentle, and held out his fist. Deadlock rolled her eyes and stepped forward, tapping the soft bottom of her fist against his own— a special gesture, for two very special friends. 

“Nice shooting,” she said to him. “As for you, Clove, we have more drills scheduled tomorrow evening. Brimstone’s orders.”

“Aye aye.” Clove tapped their chin. “Does this mean we’re done here? I’d love to shoot more guns and stuff, but I’m starving .”

“You’re dismissed,” Deadlock said, with a fond smile. 

Iso watched as Clove scurried back towards the door, speaker in hand, adjusting the horned headband that had grown crooked during practice. They glanced at him, one last time.

“Nice officially meeting you Iso!” they shouted from across the range. “See ya around!”

Iso raised his hand to wave goodbye, but they were already gone.

“Helvete,” Deadlock sighed. Part of her had deflated once they were alone. “We have got to stop recruiting kids.”

Iso watched her pack up the sheriff, his eyes following her deft hands. “They’re going to be fine,” he said, because he knew what she was really worried about. “You’re a great instructor.”

Deadlock made a noise of acknowledgement. Then silence.

“Iselin,” he repeated. “I mean it.”

She looked up from the ledge and into his eyes. “I know,” she said, softer this time. “It’s just not easy with new agents. Or getting attached to people again.”

People who can die.

Iso bit his cheek. “You know, I don’t think they can die, actually.”

“Ah.” Now that made her smile again. “You always know just what to say, Zhao Yu.” Her voice bled mockery, but her eyes were kind. The darkness beneath them had grown smaller these days. 

“Need any help packing up?” he offered.

“I’ve got it, but thank you,” she said. “And thank you for helping out, too. Clove seems to like you.”

Iso smiled. “They get along well with Mateo, too.” He spotted a flash of recognition in her eyes.

“The trip you mentioned,” Deadlock began, “it’s in a few days, right?”

“Yes.”

She was quiet for a moment too long. “I hope it’s fun.” Her voice was too strained, too quick.

Iso stepped closer, resting his hands on the ledge. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” she lied. He knew it was a lie— and he had a suspicion.

“We’re going in a group. Six of us,” Iso said. “We’re going to be fine.”

Deadlock kept packing the firearms, her brows furrowed. She let out a long, pained sigh. 

“Just… promise me that you’ll be safe,” she said. “Will you?”

Their friendship was something Iso wasn’t quite sure he would ever find with anyone else— this deep, unfiltered understanding of one another. Even if he knew so little of her past, and she knew so little of his. They just got each other. 

Deadlock carried herself like a woman who had lost pieces of herself, scattered among the people she had left only in her memories. Iso felt it, just as he felt the understanding in their shared looks. He would never ask her to tell him the full extent of her grief, but he didn’t need to know. 

He would just assure her. As many times as it took.

He spoke with rigid certainty. “I will.”

Deadlock smiled at him— one of those rare little smiles, again, like a shared secret. “Thank you.”

“I’ll send you pictures of the beach,” he offered. 

“I’ve seen a beach before.” She pursed her lips. “Not my thing.”

“Then I’ll send pictures of Wingman at the beach.”

She groaned. “Spare me.” Deadlock finished packing away the revolver, sliding the case into the range armory shelf. “Now get out of here, Zhao Yu. Don’t you have someone waiting for you?”

Right. Mateo’s totally-not-just-game-night vacation packing session. 

Iso smiled. “I’ll see you around, Iselin.”

They tapped their fists again— metal to flesh. 

“Goodnight, friend,” Deadlock said. “And if you play polka the next time we practice, I’ll net you to the floor.”

Chapter Text

Iso’s intuition was right— Gekko was terrible at packing. 

They spent most of the night laying against each other, playing endless rounds of Brimstone’s retro arcade game, all while Gekko’s suitcase sat empty in the center of the room. A kiss here, a kiss there, another round lost. Iso didn’t mind it, in all honesty. He would have spent the entire night holding Gekko in his arms and fondly watching the way he stuck out his tongue when he focused, admiring the light of the screen reflected in his eyes. 

God, he was hopeless.

It was a few hours into their procrastination when Iso found the willpower to put an end to it.

“You really need to start packing,” he had said to Gekko, but his boyfriend was clever— a bit devious, even. He knew Iso’s weaknesses too well.

Gekko pouted, wrapping his arms around Iso from where he lay atop him on the couch. “But that’s so boring,” he said. “Can’t we do that tomorrow? Please?”

Iso stared at Gekko’s adorable, pleading expression, his big brown eyes and tiny, playful smile. Was Clove’s mischief rubbing off on him lately? Iso took a breath.

“Bǎo bèi,” he said, running his thumb along the edge of Gekko’s brow. The motion lured him closer. “We don’t have much time to prepare for the trip. Let’s get it done now, and then we can spend the rest of the night doing this, okay?”

Gekko studied him closely, his eyes flickering over Iso’s face. He always looked at him like that— like something worth admiring. Iso felt the heat rising in his own cheeks. 

“The rest of the night in your arms, huh?” Gekko asked. He giggled, his breath tickling Iso’s neck. “Yeah man, that’s not a bad deal at all.”

It pained Iso to push him away— it really did. The absence of warmth against his chest ached too deeply, some nights, like there was a part of him that always wanted more. This insatiable, growing desire. For Gekko. For his lips, his hands, his laughter and his touch. Iso couldn’t think about it for too long. 

Because he didn’t even know what to do about it. 

So instead, he sat on the floor with Gekko, helping him fold shirts and socks and tuck them neatly into his travel suitcase, only stopping once or twice for a quick, encouraging kiss. Wings perched on Iso’s shoulders, comfortable, gurgling in shared disagreement with Iso when Gekko insisted on bringing something he didn’t need.

“Do you want any help packing, babe?” Gekko asked him. 

Iso shook his head, hiding a smile. “I don’t have as much stuff as you.”

“You calling me a hoarder?” 

Iso gave him a bored look. “You wanted to pack a winter coat,” he said. “For Los Angeles.”

Gekko threw a shirt at his head, laughing. Iso caught it just before it hit him in the face.

“I like to be prepared ,” Gekko said, rolling his eyes. “I get it from my mom.”

His mother. She lived in Los Angeles, in their cozy little home that Gekko had told Iso so much about. Iso could almost imagine it, in a way. Somewhere safe and colorful and so uniquely him . 

But Iso hadn’t even thought to ask Gekko about his mother yet. He wondered if he even could.  

Will you visit her? That was the easy question. The harder question was stuck in his throat— he felt his hands numb at the thought. 

Can I meet her?

Iso took a breath. Gekko’s attention was drawn back to the pile of clothes at his side, to Mosh sitting on top of one of his jackets like a throne to a king. He laughed when he scooped him off the fabric, in a way that made Iso’s chest ache. 

“Are you planning to visit her?” Iso asked him after a moment. “Your mother, I mean.” He placed another shirt into the suitcase as he spoke. This one was one of Iso’s favorites— the purple looked nice on Gekko, but maybe he was biased. 

Dizzy hovered past Gekko, air-dropping a single sock into his hand. 

“Thanks, Diz,” he said, then turned to Iso. “Yeah, actually. I was planning on stopping by. I really miss her.” Gekko sighed, shallow, and bit the corner of his lip. A habit when he was deep in thought. “You know, she’s really great…”

There was a pause— too long. Iso watched him tuck the sock into the side pocket, staring at the floor. 

“You should take a whole day with her, Teo,” Iso said, softer. He hated how Gekko’s shoulders drooped. “Don’t worry about us.”

Gekko swallowed. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.” There was still a tension within him that Iso couldn’t quite place. “So uhm, what would you do? While I’m gone, I mean?”

“I’ll find something to do,” Iso assured him. He offered him a warm smile. “I don’t want to interrupt your family time.”

“You wouldn’t—” Gekko stopped himself.

Wingman’s stubby little claws dug against Iso’s shoulders. He glanced at the creature, curious, before turning back to Gekko. Something was left unspoken.

Iso tried to ask— he did. But Gekko’s expression was distant. It stopped him dead in his tracks. 

Gekko huffed a laugh, still tense. “We’ll figure it out as we go.” 

Iso let the discussion rest despite the voice in the back of his head urging him to press further— maybe that voice was Wingman, and his insistent little gurgles in Iso’s ear. 

“Hey,” Iso said, reaching out a hand for Gekko. “How about we call it for tonight? This is good progress.”

“So impatient,” Gekko said, with no real bite. He was smiling again, nearly singing his words when he asked, “what did you wanna do instead?”

Iso felt his heart seize. How could even the smallest, most innocent of requests make his hands shake? After all this time? 

But maybe he didn’t need words. Not right now. 

Iso shifted to his knees, crawling forward until he was eye-to-eye with Gekko on the floor. He planted a kiss against his parted lips— slow, yearning.

“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered when he pulled back. “I just want you in my arms.”

Gekko stared back at him, red-faced, and giggled. “Have I ever told you how, like, stupidly romantic you are sometimes?” 

Iso didn’t quite believe him. If anything, he was incapable of mincing words around Gekko— he just said how he felt in the most direct way possible, no matter how inelegant. No matter how silly.

Iso laughed. “You did this to me.”

“Good.”

Gekko leaned forward, meeting Iso halfway for another tender kiss. Their positions on the floor were anything but comfortable, but neither of them cared. Moments like these, kissing each other like fools on the floor of Gekko’s bedroom, surrounded by clothes and charging cables and unhealthy snacks— it helped them feel normal again. 

It helped them feel human. 

“Vas a ser mi fin,” Gekko whispered against his lips. He drew out the syllables, his voice low and melodic. Maybe he knew what it did to Iso, to hear him like that— like a dream.

Iso looked deep into his eyes, as if they could help decipher the meaning of his words. He felt the warmth of Gekko’s fingertips trace his jawline, slow, tender, until they rested at the curve of his neck. 

And then they stopped. 

A silent question in Gekko’s eyes. Iso had seen it before. 

He had seen it so many times before, and it still scared him half to death every single time. 

Is this okay? 

A familiar panic rose in the back of Iso’s throat. He swallowed it down, like he always had. It tasted bitter— like gunpowder. There was ice under his skin. 

“Let’s get ready for bed, Teo,” Iso said, praying that Gekko would ignore the break in his voice. 

He did— Gekko was an angel like that. If he felt any disappointment, any frustration, he didn’t show it. Instead, he pressed another kiss to the side of Iso’s jaw. 

“Of course, cariño,” he said, gentle. When he pulled back, his eyes spoke louder than his words ever could. 

It’s okay. 

And in one swift motion, Gekko lifted himself from the floor and walked towards the bathroom. Iso was left frozen behind him, trying to take his words to heart, a small part of him screaming come back. Come back.

The same dreadful thoughts repeated in Iso’s head. The unending conflict in his mind between desire and fear. 

There’s something wrong with me. There has to be. 

Iso closed his eyes— tightly, like he was trying to banish the doubts from his mind. Again. Again. A few moments passed, quiet and alone, until he found the strength to lift himself off the floor too. 

Maybe it was funny, or maybe it was cruel. He was too tired to care. The thoughts never left Iso’s mind that night, even as he held Gekko tight against his chest in the comforting darkness of his room. 

There wasn’t a single thing in the universe that Iso loved more than the boy in his arms, but he was only human. He wanted to give him everything, even when he worried it wouldn’t be good enough— that he wouldn’t be good enough. 

He glanced to the nightstand, his eyes locking on the case of his earbuds. Just out of reach. No. He was better than that now.

The thoughts rang out again.

Ridiculous. Scared of intimacy with your own partner. Look at yourself. 

Iso closed his eyes. All he could do was hold Gekko. All he could do was press a kiss against his skin like a promise and admire his gentle, sleeping face. 

The sight stirred something inside of Iso— determined, burning.  He would figure this out. One small, terrifying step at a time. 

For Mateo. 

***

Maybe this was Brimstone’s way of getting back at them for requesting such a ludicrous vacation, for having Reyna barge into his office one afternoon demanding a home visit for her favorite little agent. Or maybe it was simply cheaper than flying a VLT/R directly into Los Angeles. 

Also, they needed some discretion. 

Iso mulled over the possibilities as he stood in the boarding line along with Gekko and their friends, breathing in the stale oxygen of the overcrowded airport. When was the last time he had been on a plane? When was the last time any of them had?

Quaint— that was one word for it. Iso supposed if they wanted a week to pretend to be normal, they had to play the part. He could imagine Brimstone reclined in his office, a smug little smile on his face.

There was something about the sheer volume of people that left Iso feeling uneasy. He found himself stepping closer to Gekko without even thinking. Despite it all, he couldn’t deny the excitement building in his chest, and he couldn’t deny how adorable Gekko looked in one of his hoodies— his carry-on bag slung over his shoulder, his hand holding Iso’s sleeve. 

And he did learn something valuable over the course of their overnight flight: he was good at sitting still. Gekko was not.

For a majority of the flight, Iso watched a random assortment of movies with Gekko on the seatback’s preloaded screen— a corny romcom, a terrible horror flick, even a superhero movie. Iso hadn’t seen any of the previous installments, so Gekko spent most of the runtime trying to explain the plot. None of it made an ounce of sense, but Iso thought Gekko looked so cute when he was excited. 

The thought struck him too fast, again, like it always did nowadays. How smitten was he?

Gekko spoke with his hands, his eyes scrunching up, his smile bright. Iso never had the heart to stop him, nor did he want to. He simply listened, nodding along, his eyes occasionally dipping to Gekko’s lips, his thoughts hitching like a bolt of electricity through his skull.

At one point during the third film, Iso reached his hand over to grab the top of Gekko’s leg— he had been bouncing it for hours, and Iso was having trouble focusing. 

The gesture seemed to fluster Gekko, and he cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he whispered, sheepish, over the hum of the engines. 

Iso only kissed his cheek, assuring. His hand ghosted over Gekko’s thigh for the rest of the movie, his thumb stroking light against his jeans. Gekko sat still under his touch after that. 

There was something about it that made Iso feel better— protective. 

He paused. We’re on a plane, not on a mission. Calm the fuck down. 

Iso was thankful when Gekko finally fell asleep against his shoulder, his cheek radiating warmth through his hoodie. He smiled to himself and continued reading one of Deadlock’s gifted books under the dull overhead light. Exhaustion crept behind his eyes, but Iso knew any rest on the plane would be uncomfortable. It would only leave him sore.

He didn’t even know if he could sleep surrounded by so many others— he had to watch Gekko, anyway. Iso didn’t mind being a pillow. 

Clove seemed to have the same idea of staying awake, or maybe they were just incapable of decent rest. Iso kept spotting the flashes of colors from their handheld console down the row. They sat on the other side of Gekko, cross-legged and scrunched up in the tiny airplane seat, fully focused on… Iso couldn’t really decipher it— little animals? They giggled under their breath every now and again, halfway between delighted and deranged.

Iso glanced across the aisle. Yoru sat at the edge of the next row, his arms crossed, eyes closed. His expression was too tight to be fully asleep— he must have been listening to something in his headphones too, just like Iso. 

He realized, at that moment, he had never asked Yoru for any music recommendations. He made a mental note to bring it up once they were on the ground again, fully-rested and not acting as pillows for their sleeping partners. 

Speaking of, Phoenix had taken up the middle seat of their row, and to Iso’s surprise, he was absolutely passed out. His head rested against Yoru’s shoulder, and Jett had managed to wiggle out of her seat and lay scrunched up on her side next to him. Phoenix’s jacket was bundled in his own lap like a pillow for her, and he rested a hand over her arm— it kept her warm in the cool air of the plane. 

Iso huffed a laugh behind his jacket. Obnoxious couples indeed.

He turned his attention back to his book, to its worn pages and aged cover. There were still many hours left of their flight, but the time would pass. It always did. 

He pressed a kiss against the crown of Gekko’s head and kept reading, fueled awake by the promise of summer seas and the steady rise and fall of his boyfriend’s chest.

***

Iso thought it was almost funny how the world flashed before his eyes when he was utterly exhausted. One moment, he was reading on the plane next to Gekko, and the next, he was wandering an L.A. flea market street with his friends. 

Their departure from the airport went as smoothly as it could. Iso didn’t remember much of it, honestly, but they were all in one piece. That had to count for something. It was late evening in Los Angeles, and there was nothing any of them wanted more than to eat a real, genuine meal. 

Iso remembered vaguely the sensation of shoving food into his mouth, the chatter of his friends, and Gekko’s arm locked in his own. His body had a way of pushing on through the exhaustion, even when his mind was a hundred miles away. 

Slowly, through the healing properties of a warm meal and the cheek-kisses from his boyfriend, Iso found his second wind. An unsteady one, but a boost nonetheless. 

What stuck with him most was the sunset— it was exactly like the mural wall in Gekko’s bedroom. A mirage of golden pink and orange, like a fire across the sky. Gekko pulled him along by the arm as they walked, laughing with Clove about something Iso didn’t quite catch. 

The group wanted to do something easy on their first night, and the market seemed to fit the bill. Even at sunset, the air was almost too warm, and Iso tied his hoodie around his waist to escape it. He liked the way Gekko’s bare arms felt against his own. Iso blinked away the thought. 

“Come on, I wanna buy something!” Clove said, walking backwards in front of them both, narrowly weaving through the crowd. Iso wondered how they could possibly have so much energy after the flight. “I saw some jewelry down the street. We should go look.”

“Do you even have any room for more jewelry?” Gekko asked, brow raised. “You’re going to run out of fingers for all these rings, dude.” The two of them laughed as Clove smacked his shoulder.

Jewelry, huh . Iso glanced at Gekko, at the little shark earring dangling from his ear. He wasn’t sure he ever saw him without it. The earcuffs, on the other hand, were missing— probably uncomfortable on the flight.

Iso trailed his eyes down to Gekko’s neck. He never recalled him ever wearing a necklace. It would look nice on him, he imagined. Gekko's neck was slender, and Iso thought about how wonderful it felt to lay his head against it, soaking up his warmth, pressing kisses into the soft, delicate skin—

“Iso?” Clove’s voice interrupted his train of thought. 

Iso blinked. “What.”

Gekko stopped walking, pulling Iso to a halt. “You okay, Zhao Yu? You look really out of it.” He absently tugged at the front of Iso’s shirt, which was definitely not helping the situation. “We can head back to the house now, if you wanna rest and stuff.”

Iso didn’t even know how he was feeling— it switched every few seconds. Tired. Excited. Exhausted. Happy. Dead. Burning from the inside out. 

Iso shook his head, quick. “I’m okay, Teo,” he assured him, but even still he felt off-balance. His thoughts lagged. “I think I just need to get some air… away from people, for a second.”

Gekko studied his eyes in a way that showed he didn’t quite believe him, but he nodded. “Do what you gotta do.” He stole a quick kiss. “Clove and I will be right over there if you need us.”

Iso felt the sigh of relief leave his lips the second they both stepped away. It wasn’t even either of their faults— it had just been a very, very long day. He watched them disappear through the crowd, a flash of yellow popping up onto Gekko’s shoulder. Iso nearly panicked at the thought of Wings out in public.

“That’s a weird dog,” Iso heard someone say, and he bit back a smile. Nah. He’ll be fine.

Iso wandered towards a quieter wing of the market, his hands in his pockets, his music playing so faintly he could barely hear it over the sounds of passing cars and lively chatter. His eyes scanned the array of goods for sale, a bit unfocused. 

Only when he found a vendor selling handmade jewelry did he stop moving, his eyes catching on the swirls of color and glint of metal charms. He glanced to either side of him. 

No sign of Gekko. 

Iso let himself step closer, observing the assorted gemstones and designs for something his boyfriend might love– his stomach flipped at the thought of it. Was this all it took? He sighed.

“Ah, I know that look.”

Iso heard Phoenix before he saw him. He stepped up beside Iso, and to his surprise, Phoenix was alone. He looked just as exhausted as the rest of them, but Phoenix’s smile was unbreakable, radiant. He craned his neck to look at the jewelry too. 

Iso glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re looking for a gift for a special someone.”

Iso smirked behind his hoodie. “That obvious?”

“Mate, you’ve been smiling since the second we got here.”

Had he? Iso was worried he looked like a zombie. Maybe he was too tired to even feel his own face. Oof. 

Phoenix placed a hand on Iso’s shoulder. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s adorable.”

Iso felt a wave of embarrassment, but Phoenix quickly pointed to one of the necklaces, distracting him. Iso followed his gesture. 

“Do you think he would like this one?” Phoenix asked. 

The necklace was gold— a simple chain, with a green gem no larger than a penny. Iso leaned closer. Pretty, but…

“It’s nice,” Iso began, “but Mateo likes yellower greens.”

Beside him, Phoenix chuckled. “It’s funny, right? You fall in love, and suddenly you’re agonizing over different shades of green.”

Iso held another necklace between his fingers. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“I’m a seasoned veteran at this point. Ryo used to give me so much shit for getting his favorite blue wrong.” Phoenix rolled his eyes. “I must be colorblind.”

Iso spotted Yoru further down the flea market, silently judging one of the vendor’s stalls. “Maybe he’s just picky.”

“That too.” 

“Do you think…” Iso hesitated. “Do you think a gift like this is too corny?”

Phoenix shook his head. “I remember every gift I’ve gotten from them,” he said, motioning with his eyes down the street. Jett stood beside Yoru, now, as they both studied a large, comically feathered hat. “Don’t stress over it. It’s the thought that counts.”

Don’t stress over it. Okay. 

“Okay,” Iso repeated. 

He scanned the blanket for hints of green, praying he might find something that just screamed Gekko. He was surprised to find something that did. But it wasn’t green, or a reptile, or even a shark. 

It was a silver charm— a sun, threaded against a black cord. The lick of flames spread outward from the center, like the fire was alive, burning. 

It was perfect. 

“How much for this one?” Iso asked in an instant, his eyes still glued to the necklace. He felt Phoenix brush up beside him, catching a glimpse. 

“Oh, he’ll love that,” he said, with such confidence that Iso knew it to be true. 

A confusing exchange of currency, a little plastic bag and a handshake later, and Iso was the proud owner of a handmade necklace. He rolled the bag carefully, placing it into his bag for later. 

“Thanks for the help, Jamie,” he said, taking a deep breath under the setting sun. It was more emotional support than anything, but he still appreciated it. 

Phoenix walked with him happily. “Anytime.”

Shade overtook the market after a while, the temperature cooling, the crowd beginning to thin. Iso noticed Phoenix’s jacket was missing, and he safely assumed it was Jett’s doing.

“Hey, Zhao Yu,” Phoenix said after a moment, motioning him closer with his hand. “I’ll only say this once, so don’t go thinking I’m trying to pressure you. But I’m here if you need anything, you know… relationship-wise.”

Iso narrowed his eyes. “Like… advice?”

Phoenix laughed under his breath. “Yeah. Advice, or you know,” he darted his eyes back and forth, “supplies.”

OH.

“Oh,” Iso repeated the thought in his mind. He felt his cheeks growing hotter. “Th-thanks, Jamie. I don’t know if, uh—”

His thoughts broke through the music. Stop talking right now, you idiot. 

“It’s alright, man,” Phoenix said, smacking Iso’s back. The motion jolted him, and he was beginning to realize just how thin his composure felt after a full day of staying awake. “I’m just putting the offer out there. Remember what I said, alright? Don’t stress over it.”

Iso stared forward at the street, his lips tight. Easier said than done. 

“What the hell did you say to him?” Yoru’s voice broke through the chatter of the crowd. “He looks mortified.”

Yoru had found his way over to them, with his ever-present smirk and bag of fresh goodies. Phoenix somehow grew even brighter when he saw him— an innocent, explosive joy. 

“Ryo!” Phoenix said. “I’m giving Zhao Yu my expert relationship advice.”

Yoru stared at him. “Right.”

“I literally have two partners,” Phoenix said. “I did something right.”

Iso looked between them— he couldn’t deny how surprised he was to learn they were actually dating, all those months ago. Yoru was a bit stubborn, a bit reserved. Public displays of affection were essentially an act of war in his eyes. 

But Iso was lucky enough to see glimpses of their relationship in the quiet moments. Sometimes, as he walked back to his quarters in the late evenings, he would pass the rec room. There, he would see them, seated together beneath the dimming lights, their hands held tight. Phoenix might be holding him, or maybe Yoru had slung an arm over his shoulder— effortless affection, constant touch. No one could deny the magnetism between them. 

If they were even able to catch them in the act. 

Iso coughed, slicing the tension. “Thank you,” he repeated. “I do appreciate it.”

“Anytime, alright?” Phoenix grinned. “Just swing on by.”

“So charitable,” Yoru said, half a groan. Phoenix pulled him closer by his waist, and they shared a look— Iso almost could have missed it. Yoru’s eyes were always so intense, but they softened, just barely. 

Iso let his curiosity get the better of him. “Can I ask you both something?” 

They turned their attention to Iso so quickly he almost jumped. 

“What is it?” Yoru asked. 

“What was your first date like, outside of the base?”

The question lit a faint smile on Yoru’s face, and his eyes flickered up towards Phoenix. “I took him on a ride on my bike,” he said. “He was freaking out the entire time.”

“That is not true,” Phoenix interrupted. “I just needed some time to adjust, that’s all.”

Yoru chuckled— a strange but delightful sound. “You were terrified.”

Beside him, Phoenix bristled. 

“Why did you choose that?” Iso asked. He worried it sounded rude, but his friends knew him well enough. 

“It was a way to be alone together,” Phoenix said. “We drove out somewhere really scenic and all that. Just, ya know,” he waved his hands, “away from everything.”

Somewhere away from everything. Huh. 

“Jamie held onto me like a little baby the whole time too. I guess that was a bonus.”

Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Ryo.”

Perhaps it was fate that Jett nearly blasted around the corner at that moment, wearing Phoenix’s jacket, her hands grabbing at his other arm. 

“Guys! You have to come look at this right now!” she said, with so much energy it made Iso remember just how dead he felt. 

Phoenix offered an apologetic look to the men at his side before slipping away in Jett’s grasp, but Yoru didn’t seem to mind. He watched them wander off with a fond smile. 

“Wait, Ryo,” Iso said, stopping him in his tracks before he could follow. He cleared his throat again. “I wanted to ask you something. I need more music for one of my playlists. Any suggestions?”

Yoru looked him up and down for a moment, a tiny laugh escaping his lips. “Yeah, I do.” He took Iso’s phone from his hand. “Here. You’ll like this one.”

Iso reached for his phone again, but Yoru snatched it away at the last second. Their eyes met. 

“Zhao Yu?” He began, his expression flat. “Seriously. Don’t overthink this.”

Iso struggled to find the words. 

“Listen.” Yoru placed the phone in his palm, speaking slowly. “Mateo practically never shuts up about you. You can’t mess this up.”

Can he?

Iso let the phrase repeat in his mind as Yoru walked away, his eyes glancing up towards the blooming twilight sky. 

The stars were out. Good things happened under the stars— didn’t they?

***

It wasn’t until Iso saw their living arrangements that he fully understood why this vacation was so expensive. He remembered stopping by shortly after leaving the airport to drop off their luggage, but he was too busy running off fumes at the time to really appreciate it. 

Maybe this was Reyna’s gift to them. It had to be. 

Small, beachside cabins— each within range of one another, looking like something out of a luxury film. The insides were fully furnished, cozy, with a beautiful view of the ocean waves. 

Iso genuinely couldn’t believe it. 

Gekko laughed at him as he stumbled around their personal cabin in some sort of fugue state, admiring every inch of the place. The little kitchenette. The bedroom. The porch. 

“This is amazing,” Iso said, looking out the sliding glass door towards the ocean. He spotted lights against the horizon— distant ships, blending into stars. 

“I know, baby,” Gekko said with a giggle. “You said that earlier too.”

Iso blinked away the layer of fog from his eyes. 

“Sorry. I didn’t get much rest.”

Gekko stepped up beside him, running his bare hands over the curve of Iso’s bicep. “You should lay down, Zhao Yu,” he said, quiet. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

Iso found himself leaning closer, his eyelids drooping, but he froze. 

“Wait,” he said, placing a hand on Gekko’s cheek. “I have something for you.”

Gekko’s eyes lit up in the way they always did. “What is it?”

“Turn around,” Iso said. “Trust me.”

Gekko raised a brow, playfully curious, but did as he was told. Iso pulled the necklace from his bag, carefully, his heart racing. 

Calm down.

He stepped closer to Gekko, deep in concentration as he lowered the necklace around his shoulders. It took a moment of struggle— his fingers were unsteady from exhaustion —but he clipped the latch into place. 

Then, without a second though, he pressed his lips to the nape of Gekko’s neck. The skin was warm. He was always so fucking warm. 

Gekko shuddered, snapping Iso from his trance.

“I found it at the market today,” Iso said, rushed, almost shyly. He tried to forget the heat against his lips. “What do you think?”

Gekko turned back around, gripping the sun charm between his fingertips for a better view. His smile was brilliant now, unable to contain his joy. 

“Zhao Yu,” he said. “I love it.”

Gekko lifted himself to his toes to kiss Iso, squishing his cheeks between his hands without remorse. Iso could barely manage a laugh before it was stolen away. His head was spinning— he couldn’t even pinpoint the cause anymore. 

“Man, it’s perfect,” Gekko said when he broke away. “This is so sweet of you, babe. Seriously.”

Iso offered a tired smile. The way Gekko was looking at him, so bright, so full of adoration— Iso couldn’t resist. 

He pressed forward again, wrapping his arms around Gekko until he was flush against his body, the warmth of his skin melting through to his bones. 

God, he was so wonderful. He was so perfect. 

Gekko responded eagerly, happily, pulling Iso against him as he backed towards the bed. Iso didn’t even hesitate to fall with him against the freshly tucked sheets, still pressing his weight onto Gekko like a vice. 

Iso pulled back for air. His head was spinning again. It wouldn’t stop spinning. Why won’t it stop?

There were many moments where Iso realized how well Gekko really knew him. It was alarming, almost. Sometimes he couldn’t even tell how he was feeling. 

But Gekko did. 

Iso lay above Gekko, catching his breath, his eyes unfocusing, a pounding deep inside his skull. He could barely even hear his thoughts over the wave of exhaustion— like his body shutting down. 

He let out a half-hearted sigh. 

“There’s no pressure,” Gekko said after a long moment, his hand still resting firm on Iso’s back. 

He wondered if Gekko felt his heart hammering through his ribs. He couldn’t take it. He just let the words pour out. 

“Are you ever frustrated with how slowly we’ve been going?” 

“Never,” Gekko said immediately, tilting Iso’s head up so they were eye to eye. He was blurry, but Iso could still make out the important parts— brown eyes. “I’ve been happy every single moment, Zhao Yu. Because I’m with you. It doesn’t matter what we do. I just love being together.”

Iso let the words settle. “I feel like I should be better at this.” He wasn’t sure if he would have been able to admit it before— but here he was safe. Gekko was safety. 

“You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I feel like you deserve—“

Gekko cupped his cheek, jolting him from his head. “Is this something that you want?” Gekko asked him, quiet. Firm. “Or is it something that you think you’re ‘supposed’ to be doing?”

Iso stared back at him, admiring the little features of his face he had grown to love so much. “I want you,” Iso whispered, pained. “I just don’t want to mess it up.”

I can’t mess this up. He couldn’t believe that all these weeks later he was still haunted by the same anxiety. It followed him like his own shadow. 

In many ways, Gekko was an angel. He felt like it most in times like these when he pressed a kiss against Iso’s forehead, like he was trying to scare away the doubts and worries inside his head. Iso let his eyes close. Embracing the moment. 

The beat of his heart slowing, the warmth of the boy below him radiating through to his heart. The exhaustion melted over him like wax. 

“You’re doing exactly what you need to do, mi amor,” Gekko said. “And I’ll remind you as many times as it takes to get it through that thick, handsome skull of yours.”

To emphasize his point, he flicked Iso’s temple with his finger. 

“Hey! Iso laughed out of shock. Ow. 

“Just making sure you got my point, dummy.”

Iso felt the edges of his nerves fraying. He wasn’t sure how much more of the day he could take. 

“You’re—” he took a breath, like his lungs weren’t big enough. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Gekko laughed, and Iso felt it rumble beneath him. 

“I love you too,” Gekko said. “Now let me help you get to bed, before you like, die or something.”

Iso laughed, delirious against his neck. “Yeah,” he sighed. “That sounds... good. That sounds…” His voice faded into a mumble. 

He was asleep within the minute, swept away by the sound of Gekko’s gentle laughter, by the warmth of his hands against his own. 

Chapter Text

[MESSAGE LOG: AGENT-023/AGENT-024]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[11:00PM UTC] Have a safe flight. Message me when you land.

[4:05PM UTC] Kirra and I went hiking again today. I stepped in poison ivy.

[4:06PM UTC] [FILE ATTACHMENT: IMG024.JPG]

[The imaged showed Deadlock’s leg, red and swollen at the ankle. Skye could be seen giving a thumbs up in the background.]

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

 Landed. I feel like im dyiogn [12:03AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[12:05AM UTC] You didn’t sleep on the plane, did you?

[12:46AM UTC] Are you doing alright?

[12:59AM UTC] Zhao Yu?

[MESSAGE LOG: AGENT-023/AGENT-022]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[1:15AM UTC] Gekko. Report your status. 

GEKKO [VAL-SECURE]

oh hey deadlock [1:16AM UTC]

yeah man we’re fine [1:16AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[1:16AM UTC] That’s good. 

GEKKO [VAL-SECURE]

 zhao yu is just sleepwalking at this point but he's okay [1:17AM UTC]

we're at the market and he’s just kind of staring into space lmao [1:17AM UTC]

im guessing that’s why you messaged me [1:18AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[1:19AM UTC] Oh. 

[1:19AM UTC] Somehow I’m not surprised. 

GEKKO [VAL-SECURE]

we’re gonna head back to our rooms soon [1:22AM UTC]

also clove says hi [1:22AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[1:23AM UTC] That was all I needed from you. I’ll let you get back to it, thank you.

[1:23AM UTC] Goodnight Gekko. 

GEKKO [VAL-SECURE]

have a good one :) [1:24AM UTC]

[MESSAGE LOG: AGENT-023/AGENT-025]

CLOVE [VAL-SECURE]

YOU DIDN'T SAY HI BACK?? [1:25AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL SECURE]

[1:26AM UTC] Sorry. Hi Clove.

CLOVE [VAL-SECURE]

hi :) [1:26AM UTC]

okay bye [1:26AM UTC]

[MESSAGE LOG: AGENT-023/AGENT-024]

DEADLOCK [VAL SECURE]

[1:30AM UTC] Mateo told me you’re alive. 

[1:30AM UTC] Good to know your biggest weakness is jet lag.

[1:31AM UTC] Goodnight, Sleeping Beauty. 

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

I’m so sorry. I passed out before I could reply [4:14PM UTC]

Is your leg doing better? [4:14PM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL SECURE]

[4:21PM UTC] Good morning.

[4:23PM UTC] It’s okay. And my leg is good. Kirra patched me up at the base. 

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

I’m glad. Sorry again, I was so exhausted yesterday. [4:25PM UTC]

I think I took a picture for you. It's bad. [4:25PM UTC]

[FILE ATTACHMENT: IMG005.JPG] [4:25PM UTC]

[The attachment was a blurry photo of the sunset. Iso's finger covered the top right corner.]

DEADLOCK [VAL SECURE]

[4:30PM UTC] Wow. You’re a terrible photographer. 

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

hahaha [4:45PM UTC]

Hey, we’re about to head to the beach. I’ll catch you up tonight when we get back. I promise. [5:10PM UTC]

And send better pictures. [5:11PM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL SECURE]

[5:14PM UTC] Have fun. I'll talk to you soon.

Chapter Text

“Your party washes up on unfamiliar sands,” Clove said, waving a hand through the air. “The smell of salt stings your noses, the sun swelters against your flesh!”

Beside them, Jett groaned. “It sounds gross when you say ‘flesh’.”

“I’ll try again, then.” Clove cleared their throat. “The sun swelters against your meatsuits.”

“That’s even worse!”

The sound of their laughter fluttered through the air, and Iso peaked open one eye. He felt like barely any time at all had passed since they arrived. Just hours ago, he was waking up beside Gekko, admiring the way the morning sun fell over his face. 

And by noon, the agents had made their way down to their destination for the day—  Venice Beach. 

It was crowded, but considering the time of year, it was to be expected. Iso could see the boardwalk behind them, where the open streets and towering palm trees blended into the sands of the open beach. 

Iso’s eyes were caught by the colors of the buildings, of the people and their skateboards and bicycles and roller skates— this city was alive. The air itself felt alive with the energy of summer.

Closer to the water, the energy was calmer. The group had found a quiet area to set up their beach towels and umbrellas, crafting somewhat of a “homebase” for their beachday. 

Phoenix was gone before Iso had a chance to spot him, already stumbling into the ocean like it was calling to him. Clove and Jett found a spot just off the shoreline to start digging in the sand together, hellbent to build what was apparently the “greatest sandcastle known to man” with their shared determination. He could see them now, laughing and shoveling sand together. 

Gekko’s creatures tagged along too, but all except Wings were still within Gekko’s harness, resting under the umbrella. Maybe it was too hot for them, or maybe they were sleepy. The sun had a way of doing that.

Wingman stumbled around in the sand beside Clove, well-hidden enough from a distance that he might be mistaken for a yellow plastic bucket. The thought made Iso smile.

The last member of their party, and perhaps the least-excited about a beach day, was Yoru. He rested beneath one of the umbrellas, laying back on his arms with his sunglasses obscuring his eyes. Iso couldn’t quite tell if he was sleeping, or if he was just holding incredibly still. 

Iso sat on the green beach towel beneath their own umbrella, wearing a new pair of black swim shorts, staring out towards the waves. He heard Gekko’s voice behind him.

“Have you ever been to the beach before?” Gekko asked.

“Once before,” Iso said, leaning back on his hands. “But it’s been a really long time.”

“I used to come here every summer with my mom.”

“Always this beach?”

Gekko nodded. “I would practice skateboarding over by the boardwalk,” he explained, guiding Iso’s eyes with his hand. “My mom liked sunbathing, or collecting shells. I could never find any.”

Iso took a slow breath of the fresh ocean air. “Do you think we’ll find any today?” 

“Maybe,” Gekko said, resting his head against Iso’s shoulder. “You could be a good luck charm.”

Iso chuckled. “I’ll find you one,” he promised. 

“I bet I could find one first.” Gekko hugged him from behind, but Iso could imagine his shit-eating grin. 

The sounds of the beach filled Iso’s ears— relaxing as they were chaotic. It still felt so strange to be surrounded by so many others, to live as just a normal man for a week. Iso tried to focus on the novelty of it, and not on the fact it would be over in a few days.

“Here,” Gekko said, his smile clear in his voice. “Let me put some sunscreen on you, or else you’re gonna turn into a big tomato.”

He heard Gekko rummaging around in his bag behind him. Then, a feeling of cool gel against his shoulders. 

He nearly jolted from the sudden cold, but Gekko’s hands were always so much softer than they looked. Iso began to relax as he smoothed the sunscreen over his back, over his tense, touch-starved muscles. 

And Iso couldn’t lie— he needed this. Even something as simple as a light massage had his eyelids fluttering closed, goosebumps running up his neck and into his scalp. Gekko was gentle, but firm. 

Iso heard him giggle. 

“Feels good?” Gekko asked in his ear. 

Iso smiled. “Yeah.”

Gekko was thorough, making sure to hit every important piece of exposed skin on Iso’s body— his shoulders, his back, even along his arms. He lifted Iso’s hand in his own, taking a moment to interlace their fingers. 

Iso peeked open an eye. “Having fun?”

“Have I ever told you how much I like your hands?” Gekko ran his fingers over Iso’s, pressing light against his palm.

It was his trigger hand. Gekko handled it with more care than it deserved. 

“Thank you?” Iso hadn’t meant to sound so confused. 

“I dunno,” Gekko said, shrugging. “They just hold mine so perfectly. Not to be like, super corny or anything.”

“That’s a little super corny,” Iso confirmed, and Gekko slapped his arm. 

Lastly, Gekko pressed a few smaller dots of sunscreen against his cheeks, laughing as Iso tried pulling back. 

“Stop moving!” Gekko laughed. “You need to protect your face too.”

Iso grimaced at the feeling, at the intense smell of it all, but he had to admit again— it felt really, really nice. To be pampered. To be loved. 

He squinted against the harsh light of the sun, watching Gekko’s face in deep concentration as he finished spreading the sunblock over his forehead. Without a second thought, Iso pressed forward to kiss him. 

Gekko returned it eagerly, smiling wide enough to break their lips apart. 

“There you go,” Gekko said. “All done.”

“I get to do you now, right?” Iso asked. 

“Maybe I want to turn into a tomato,” Gekko said, brow raised. “I look great in red.”

“Wrong,” Iso deadpanned. “Turn around. ”

Gekko laughed, but ultimately obliged. Iso returned the favor as best as he could, smearing a generous amount of sunblock over Gekko’s tanned shoulders and arms, trying to not spend too much time admiring the unique little tattoos scattered about his skin. Gekko was even wearing the necklace Iso had bought him. He hadn’t taken it off since the moment he put it on.

The gesture made his heart sing.

Iso loved the way Gekko’s skin felt. Smooth and warm, the swirling pattern of his tattoo always feeling like it buzzed with otherworldly energy. He loved how Gekko seemed to press himself closer, chasing Iso’s touch, sighing at the personal attention. Iso’s hands were large enough, he could hold Gekko so perfectly— he could almost wrap them fully around his arms if he tried. 

Iso blinked. There was a heat under his skin at the thought. 

“Don’t forget my face,” Gekko said, craning his neck back until he was looking up at him. There was that smile again— radiant, alluring.

Iso cleared his throat. “Right. Hold still.”

He finished smoothing the sunblock over Gekko’s cheeks, holding his face gently between his hands. Gekko laughed when he kissed his nose.

“PDA?” Gekko asked. “I never took you as the type.”

Iso had honestly forgotten they were in public for a moment. “You make it too easy.”

“Oh trust me,” Gekko said, “I’m not complaining or anything.”

Iso finally stood up, holding out a hand for Gekko. He hoisted him to his feet, his eyes flickering towards the water. Iso really should have felt it coming.

“Race you!” Gekko shouted, already bolting towards the waves.

Iso stood for a moment in shock, watching his boyfriend stumble through the sand, before his mind caught up to his legs. He chased after Gekko, a laugh rattling out of his throat. Ahead of him, Gekko glanced over his shoulder. There was a realization in his eyes— Iso was kind of fast too.

The second they hit the water, Iso tackled him. The two of them splashed into the shallow tide, laughing, wrestling over one another. Gekko found his footing and shoved Iso down— and then, they were both underwater.

The sounds of the beach became muffled. All Iso could hear was the hum of the waves, the bubbles Gekko made as he laughed beside him. The coolness of the tide enveloped him, like the most refreshing hug he had ever felt.

Iso broke to the surface. He caught his breath, the sun against his cheeks. He felt Gekko’s arms closing around his ribs.

“I win,” Gekko said, with such pride that Iso couldn’t even tease him. 

So instead, he brushed a hand over Gekko’s wet hair, smiling, leaning closer— and shoved him back under.

Their little game continued for quite a while. The adrenaline of play-fighting, the competitiveness, the laughter. 

They resurfaced, and Gekko took a slow, deep breath. He sank beneath the waves again, his hand grasping against Iso’s as he went— and like any other instance, Iso followed him. 

There was a sting against Iso’s eyes when he opened them underwater. A blur of light, of blues and greens. Gekko’s hand guided him further down, closer, until he felt his knees press against the sandy bottom. Even with the blur of his vision, Iso could always recognize Gekko’s smiling face. He could always recognize the feeling of his lips against his own.

An underwater kiss? That was certainly new. 

Iso kissed him back, making a conscious effort to keep holding his breath— the last thing he wanted was to drown at a time like this. His hands glided over Gekko’s arms like silk, his hair swirling in the water above him. 

A moment later, Iso felt his knee press against something hard in the sand. He brushed his hand over the bottom, gripping onto something solid.

A seashell.  

Gekko fumbled closer, his hands reaching for Iso’s until he felt it too— and then he laughed, the sound traveling through the water, bubbles rising out of his mouth. Iso pushed off the floor, pulling them both to the surface. They broke free of the water with a collective gasp.

“There’s, like,” Gekko caught his breath, “absolutely no way .”

Iso held the shell proudly above his head, grinning like a fool. “What was that?” he asked, admiring his find. “Oh right…”

“Don’t.”

“I win.”

Gekko splashed an onslaught of water into his face, and Iso only smiled. 

The boys continued diving below the waves for a while, searching for shells, only occasionally stopping for an underwater smooch. It felt nice to simply float beside each other, to feel the rocking of the water, the warm sun against their skin. 

But soon they both felt the exhaustion setting in, their arms cramping from all the swimming. They were growing hungry.

They walked back towards their homebase, and Iso used one of the towels to shake out his hair. He was nearly jealous of Gekko at that moment— he barely had to do anything before he was completely dry. 

Iso hung the towel over his shoulders, and his eyes caught his friends resting a few feet away from the umbrellas. 

Iso finally had a better look at them both now. Clove was wearing a long-sleeve swim shirt and shorts, covering as much of their pale skin as they could manage in the blistering sun. Over their top, they wore a flowing cover-up— it fluttered in the gentle breeze, reminding Iso of delicate butterfly wings. Jet’s bikini was simple and white, and Iso could already see a bit of red forming on her shoulders. That burn would sting in the morning.

“Is your sandcastle done?” Iso asked.

Clove motioned him closer, grinning. “Almost, but look at this.”

Iso crouched between Jett and Clove, his eyes widening when he saw the true gem of their build— Wingman, buried up to his neck in the center. 

“He’s the king of the castle,” Jett said, clasping her hands together. “Look at the little guy. I think he likes it.”

Wingman blinked slowly, in either confirmation or acceptance.

“Finally getting the reverence he deserves,” Clove agreed.

Iso had to bite back a laugh. He glanced between Wingman’s confused face and his bag.

“I have to get a picture of this,” he said, reaching for his phone. He held the camera close, Jett giggling over his shoulder as he snapped a few photos of the creature’s predicament.

A shadow overtook all three of them. “What are you guys looking at?” Phoenix asked.

He was still dripping seawater, using one hand to push back his hair as his other rested against his hip. By all accounts, he looked like a swimsuit model— Jett was practically swooning.

“Hey prettyboy,” she said, smiling. “Having fun in the water?”

Phoenix crouched beside her, returning the smile. “It’s great, Sunny,” he said, with such fondness Iso almost wondered if he should look away. “You sure you don’t wanna take a swim?”

“In a minute,” she said. “We’re busy paying respects to the king.”

“Ah, of course.” He looked up. “Where’s Ryo?”

Yoru was exactly where Iso had last seen him— resting on the edge of their strip of beach towels, his eyes hidden by his shades. 

“He’s been acting all cool and aloof since we got here,” Clove said.

Jett and Phoenix exchanged glances, their smiles syncing up. That was always a dangerous sign.

“You thinking what I’m thinking, hon?” Phoenix asked.

Jett stood up, brushing the grains of sand off her legs. She smiled, oh-so-innocent. “Let’s get him.”

What followed was an absolute delight to watch. Iso sat back against his beach towel, watching as Phoenix hooked his arms under Yoru’s. Jett grabbed his ankles, helping to lift him from the ground, and the two of them dragged their poor riftwalker towards the sea. 

“Jamie! Sunwoo!” Yoru yelled, thrashing in their arms. “I swear to god, I’ll kill you!”

Jett and Phoenix only laughed, working together to toss him into the water. Yoru, with his hair falling flat against his face, spent the next ten minutes wrestling both of them beneath the waves. 

Iso snorted. Young love, or whatever. 

He helped Gekko and Clove gather their belongings as the trio fought, all of them growing increasingly hungrier as the day went on. By the time Phoenix, Jett, and Yoru returned, they were all out of breath— but Yoru was smiling now, like they had finally melted down to his core, even if his perfect hair was unsalvageable. 

Iso thought he looked younger like this. His features softer, somehow.

They had all brought a layer to put over their swimsuits, something light to tide them over as they grabbed a quick bite to eat nearby. 

“Wait,” Gekko said, tugging on Iso’s arm as they walked towards the boardwalk. “Let’s take a picture together before we leave.” He pulled out his own phone, wiggling closer so their faces were both in-frame. 

Iso felt himself tense— he was never good with photos, but Gekko was so excited. His smile was infectious, and Iso leaned against him for the perfect shot. And waited.

Gekko struggled to get an angle that included the ocean behind him.

“Hey Gekks, gimme your phone,” Clove said, reaching out with a grabby hand. “I’ll take a picture of you two.”

Gekko lit up. “Oh, good idea!” 

Iso tensed again— how was he supposed to pose for a full body picture? He found himself trying to mirror Gekko’s pose, wrapping an arm around him, awkwardly leaning his head down. 

Behind the camera, Clove was squinting. “Move a little to the left, Iso,” they said.

“Like this?”

“Other left.”

Iso felt Gekko’s hands guiding him closer, resting against his hips. He swallowed. 

“Alright! On three.” Clove counted down with their other hand. “Three, two—”

Seconds before one , Gekko turned his head to kiss Iso’s cheek— sudden and playful, practically stunning him out of his nervous concentration. Iso saw the flash out of the corner of his eye.

“Ah, perfect!” Clove motioned the boys over. “Oh, you’re gonna love this!”

Iso looked at the photo, still half in a daze. He saw the two of them standing together, Gekko planting a kiss on his cheek. But what struck Iso most was his own expression— it was so relaxed, so undeniably lovestruck, as he looked back at Gekko with adoration.

They both looked so happy.

“Coupla cuties, am I right?” Clove handed Gekko's phone back to him, proud.

Gekko beamed. “Thanks Clove,” he said. 

“Will you send that to me?” Iso asked, still focused on the photo. 

“You got it.”

Iso threaded his arm around Gekko as they walked, debating setting the photo as his phone background. Is that too much? He smiled to himself, the burn on his cheeks growing stronger as he felt Gekko lean closer, like gravity. 

He would worry about it later.

Gekko led his friends to one of his favorite boba shops: Dream Bubble. It was wonderful to get a cold drink after spending so much time in the heat. 

It felt surreal, almost. Iso and Gekko had spoken at length about their mundane date ideas, and now there they were, getting boba together on a summer afternoon. 

Gekko ordered matcha milk tea for himself, taro milk tea for Iso, and even helped Clove settle on something they might like— thai tea, they decided, after some excruciating deliberation. The three of them took a seat in the corner of the shop while Jett, Yoru and Phoenix scouted ahead for a good place to eat. 

It was mostly Jett, but everyone trusted her judgment. 

As they sat together, Iso felt Gekko hook his ankle around his leg under the table. The gesture was so small, but it made him feel like this could be normal. This could be their lives if not for the whole saving-the-world thing. 

But Iso loved that too. He loved doing good, and he loved that Gekko stood beside him every step of the way. He found himself staring again at Gekko’s sun-kissed skin, at the new freckles forming over his cheeks. 

It took all his strength to look away. 

“You didn’t want to swim?” Iso asked Clove, noticing their bone-dry clothes. 

“Not this time,” Clove said. “I just dyed my hair. I didn’t want all that saltwater to mess it up.”

Iso glanced at Gekko’s hair— it had grown lighter, in recent weeks. More yellow, as the green dye began to fade. He wondered if he needed a touch up soon. 

“I get that,” Gekko said. “It’s such a hassle.”

“Do you always dye it green?” Clove asked, then leaned in closer. “Is that why your name is Gekko?”

Gekko laughed. “One reason.”

Iso realized something— Clove didn’t know their real names yet. He wasn’t sure they knew anyone’s . 

“Hey,” Iso said, tapping the table in front of them. Clove looked up from their own drink, still sipping. “You can call us by our real names when we’re not on a mission, you know.”

“Oh yeah!” Gekko’s eyes widened as he realized too. “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you, man.” 

“You mean to tell me your real name isn’t Gekko?” Clove said, teasing. “You woulda had me fooled.” 

“It’s Mateo,” Gekko said, with a proud little smile. 

“Zhao Yu,” Iso said, nodding. The act of sharing his name had become second nature. 

Clove looked between them, smirking. “Your names really suit you.”

“So what’s yours?” Gekko asked. “I mean, unless you just prefer Clove? That’s cool too.”

Clove huffed a laugh. “I’ve been known to cycle through names now and again,” they said. “But Clove is really sticking lately.”

Iso smiled. “It’s a nice name.”

“Thank you, Zhao Yu” Clove said slowly, making sure to get his name right. “It’s a bonus that I’m a big fan of garlic too.”

Gekko laughed, nearly choking on his drink. Iso could see the colors swirling within his harness, and the familiar wide eyes of a certain little creature looking out. Wings flew out of the lens with a gentle pop, landing directly on the center of the table.

The three of them grew quiet, glancing around the shop in a silent panic— no one had noticed yet, but Wingman wasn’t exactly coy. Clove took action, scooping the radiovore into their arms and tucking him into their multicolored shawl. 

Wings grumbled, his stubby little arms reaching for the boba cup.

“Ah, I see,” Clove said. “This is what ya want, isn’t it?” They rattled the cup at him, and his eyes wobbled.

Gekko giggled, keeping his voice low. “Wings really seems to like you,” he said. “He’s a good judge of character.”

His eyes flickered towards Iso, and he didn’t miss it. Iso remembered all those weeks they spent together, back when they were still growing as friends— Wingman never stopped grabbing at his legs. He always wondered if Gekko’s creatures were somehow extensions of himself, in a weird way. Iso saw pieces of Gekko in each of them. His loyalty. His silliness. His furocity.

Iso took another sip of his drink. Probably a reach. 

Clove patted the top of Wingman’s head, scratching at his little ears. “You better be careful, Mateo,” they said. “If you aren’t careful, I might just steal the little guy from you.” 

Gekko and Iso shared a look with each other, sudden, like a lightbulb going off in both of their heads. Gekko’s words rang out in Iso’s thoughts: A very Scottish, very unkillable babysitter.

“Well, uh,” Gekko cleared his throat. “You could keep my homies with you tonight, if you wanted.”

“They’re great company,” Iso added, catching onto Gekko’s trail of thought. 

Clove looked between them both, clearly unimpressed and unfooled. 

“Can you believe this, Wings?” they asked, patting his head again. “Your dads are trying to pawn you off for a night alone.”

Iso opened his mouth, struggling to think of a rebuke. Clove grinned at him.

“Well, lucky for yous I would love to watch your little guys for the night,” Clove said, looking at Gekko. They held out their hand for his harness, laughing a little. “And any subsequent nights. Who knows what’ll happen.”

Iso tried not to let his blush show, but from the way Clove looked at him, he knew he had failed. 

A few minutes and some light ribbing later, and Jett and her boys appeared at the front of the boba shop. Jett’s hair was down, slightly frizzy from the water. She rubbed her hands together, brimming with excitement.

“Guys! I found the perfect place,” she said. “It’s called Striped Tiger Galbi. It’s right across the street!”

Gekko smiled behind his cup. “I knew she would freak when she saw that one,” he whispered to Iso. 

Clove stood up from the table, slinging Gekko’s harness over their shoulder, tucking Wings like a plushie into their bag. His head barely stuck out, and he blinked with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

“I’m starving,” Clove said. “Let’s hit it.”

***

A hearty meal at golden hour, a quiet walk home, and Iso was happy to finally rest in the peace and quiet of their room. He could tell Gekko felt the same way— he practically collapsed against the couch when they arrived. 

Iso had to admit, the room felt quieter without the constant shuffling of Gekko’s creatures. It was kind of nice, as much as it felt strange. He walked over towards the sliding glass patio door, staring out towards the last glimmer of sunlight before it set beyond the sea.

He heard Gekko step up behind him, quiet. Careful.

“Hey,” Gekko said, tugging at Iso’s sleeve. “I know we joked about it earlier but… nothing has to happen between us tonight, baby.” He rested his head against his shoulder. “It’ll be nice to be alone, even if that means some cuddling and a movie.”

Iso felt his chest seize, but he couldn’t pinpoint the emotion— fear? Anticipation?

He smiled against Gekko’s hair. “Maybe we’ll sleep better without Thrash knocking things off the table all night,” he said, fondly. 

Gekko giggled too, the sound right against Iso’s neck. Something about it stirred the heat under his skin. Something about Gekko always did.

Iso took a slow breath.

“I think I want to,” Iso said. A pause.

Gekko pulled away to look him in the eyes, searching his expression. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Iso said. “I’ve always wanted to, I just—”

He couldn’t finish the sentence. He wasn’t quite sure how.

But Gekko looked at him like he already knew, like he always knew the whirlwind of emotions that Iso was feeling. He smiled, calming, assuring.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?”

Iso couldn’t look away from him. He could only take a slow breath, watching his eyes. “Okay,” he repeated.

Gekko stepped onto his toes to kiss him, his eyes fluttering shut. “Let’s get cozy, mi amor,” he whispered when he pulled back, and Iso found himself already wanting more. Gekko’s lips tasted like the sea. “Come on.”

Iso followed him, and their evening routine was like any other. They slipped into something comfortable, tidied up the room, and even made some warm drinks for the night. The kitchen cabinets were stocked with a variety of teas— Gekko liked the peach, Iso preferred the green. 

And as much as Iso felt his nerves beginning to fray, he tampered them down. This was their home, even if only for a week. He was safe here.

Iso sat on the edge of the bed with him, looking into Gekko’s big brown eyes and feeling like the room around them was fading away. He leaned closer, bringing up his hands to gently cradle Gekko’s face. He was warm under his touch. Iso felt it spread through his fingers and into his cheeks. 

Iso knew at that moment he wanted Gekko more than anything else. He knew it. 

And Gekko smiled— beautiful, inviting. It was the easiest thing in the world for Iso to close the distance and kiss him, to run his thumbs over the ridges of his cheeks. 

Iso’s heart raced, but it wasn’t out of fear. There was something in this kiss, in Gekko’s presence, that made all of his doubts melt away. Gekko was warm. He was a tether. And Iso wanted him to feel just how much he adored him. 

He ran his hands down Gekko’s face, down the smooth curve of his neck, until they rested solid against his shoulders. Gekko played with the fabric of Iso’s hoodie as they kissed, wrapping his arms around his waist to bring them closer. 

The gesture was so slow, so careful— even now, he wasn’t pushing. The thought made Iso’s head spin with adoration. 

He pulled away for a moment, his forehead against Gekko’s. 

“I love you,” Iso whispered, still smiling. “ So much.”

Gekko pulled him closer until he could feel his heartbeat through his chest, the heat of his core. 

“I love you too, Zhao Yu.”

Zhao Yu. Something in the way he said it caused Iso to shiver, noticeably, and he felt his ears burning. Gekko only chuckled against his lips, low. 

Iso slipped his fingers under the collar of Gekko’s jacket, brushing it off his shoulders in one smooth motion. He ran his hands down his slender, decorated arms— he knew almost every tattoo, by now. He wanted to know them even better. Gekko wiggled his arms free, grasping at Iso’s hoodie again.

Iso felt Gekko’s fingertips fidget with the hem of his hoodie, trying to slip under it. A shock of panic ran through him— he couldn’t help it. Gekko must have felt it, and he let his hands fall back to Iso’s hips. A steady hold.

“Sorry.”

Gekko didn’t waste a second. “You’re fine.”

Iso took a breath. He pinpointed the tension between his shoulder blades and shoved it down, down , until he only felt the heat under his fingers. 

Gekko tugged at him again, carefully. “Do you want to keep this on?” he asked. 

Iso felt it was silly, but the layers made him feel safer, somehow. He couldn’t be vulnerable if he was protected by his armor— the emotional was coming down, slowly, but even now the physical remained. 

“For now,” Iso admitted. “I just need to get used to this. Is that okay?”

Gekko kissed his nose, quick. “No problem.”

God. He was too good to him. 

Iso pressed forward, chasing Gekko’s lips like nothing else mattered in the world— he just wanted him. He just wanted this feeling of safety and warmth that wrapped around him every time he held him in his arms. Gekko didn’t expect the sudden shift, and he fell off balance mid-kiss, plopping down into the bed below with a surprised squeak. 

“Sorry,” Iso said quickly. “I didn’t think—“

Gekko’s laughter rang like bells. “It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He tugged at the red strings of Iso’s hoodie, pulling him down with him. 

Iso couldn’t help but giggle too, like some kind fool in love. He crawled over Gekko until his elbows rested beside his head— a perfect vantage point to kiss him again. 

Iso wasn’t sure where he was going with any of this. He tried not to let it stop him. 

“I really love kissing you,” Gekko said, like he could sense Iso’s hesitance. “You’re great at it.”

Iso blinked. He hadn’t expected the compliment. 

“Do you mean that?”

“Yeah,” Gekko said, twisting a strand of Iso’s hair between his fingertips. “You gotta give yourself more credit.”

Iso smiled, and he felt the blush burning across his cheeks. Gekko was too sweet, sometimes. How was Iso supposed to panic when all he could focus on was his goofy smile?

“Honestly, babe, it’s kinda funny,” Gekko continued. Iso felt the tension in his body begin to fade the longer he spoke— maybe that was Gekko’s goal. To get him to relax each and every step. “You’re so good at being sexy without even trying.”

Iso huffed a laugh through his nose. “You’re just flattering me now.”

“Seriously, I mean it.”

Iso studied him, his lips pursed. He felt Gekko’s heart racing beneath him— but so was his own. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Gekko’s temple. 

“Care to elaborate?” Iso asked, low. He felt Gekko swallow. 

“Like that,” Gekko said, flustered. “That thing you do with your voice when you focus. It gets all low and rough and it’s so good. You don’t even know.”

The thought never even occurred to Iso that Gekko might like his voice. Of course, he loved Gekko’s voice— it was soothing, so full of energy and life. He worried his own was dull in comparison. Too clinical. 

The praise, however, went straight to his head. 

“What else?” Iso asked, firm. 

Gekko nearly looked shocked. His lips twitched back into a smile, nervous, excited. 

“Your eyes,” Gekko said. “I love how they look in the dark. So pretty and dangerous.”

Dangerous. Iso’s mind hitched on the thought— it must have shown in his eyes. 

“Like I know you’ll keep me safe,” Gekko said, quick, poking at Iso’s cheek to soothe him. “I’m never scared of you.”

Iso laughed, quiet. “Okay, good.”

Gekko pulled him closer for another kiss— this one breathier, hotter. Iso’s head spun from the taste of his mouth, like Gekko was starving for him. He felt the same way. 

“I could devour you,” Iso said against his lips, savoring the way Gekko’s gasp was stolen away by another kiss. Iso felt him whimper, a vibration in the back of his threat. Gekko lifted his hips ever-so-slightly, pressing up against him. Chasing his touch. 

Iso felt how much Gekko wanted him, and something short-circuited in his brain. His thoughts grew quiet. 

“Can I take this off of you?” he asked, gripping Gekko’s shirt. 

Gekko nodded, still reeling from the kiss. He arched his back long enough for Iso pull his shirt over his head, shivering in the cool air of the room. 

Iso sat back to admire him, taking a few slow breaths. He felt like something was vibrating under his skin, frantic, threatening to break free. There was a heat in his chest he didn’t know what to do with. 

It almost drove him crazy, if not for the way Gekko looked up at him— eyes wide, his smile shy and bright. Assuring. Yearning. 

“Will talking help?” Gekko asked. “I love when you talk, Zhao Yu. Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

Iso took a breath. “Yeah, maybe,” he said. His eyes trailed down Gekko’s bare torso, towards the obvious tent against his jeans. 

Don’t overthink it. The thought rang out in his mind, drowning out the rest. He let his hands move without thinking. 

Iso splayed his palm over the tense muscle of Gekko’s lower stomach. His skin was hot, beating with his pulse. 

“What was that you said earlier,” Iso began, his fingertips grazing over Gekko’s flesh, “about liking my hands?”

Gekko stared back at him. “Oh no.”

Iso couldn’t help but laugh, low, a bit deeper than he normally would. Gekko’s reaction was just what he hoped for— his entire face grew red. 

Even after everything, even after the countless times Gekko assured him it would be okay, to just follow his instincts, Iso hesitated. He took a breath. 

“Can I touch you?” he asked. A pause. 

Gekko stared back at him, his pupils blown wide. He smiled, his nerves clearly strung tight. “Yes, Zhao Yu,” he said, gentle, because he knew that Iso needed to hear it. Then, with more desperation, “I need you to.” 

And it was more than enough . 

Iso was impatient, riding the wave of newfound confidence as it hit him. He didn’t know how long it would last. He didn’t care. All he knew was the desire burning in his chest, in his mind. All he could see was the way Gekko looked back at him with adoration in his eyes. 

There was something in that look. 

The buckle of his belt undone. The warm skin of his hips. Iso trailed his hand lower, studying every crease in Gekko’s face like a puzzle he wanted to solve. He couldn’t imagine a better view. He positioned himself to Gekko’s side, holding himself up on one elbow, close enough to kiss him while still gripping his hips. 

“Y-yes, that’s…” Gekko’s voice faltered when Iso’s hand closed around him. His eyes shut, just for a moment, and he shuddered. 

Iso tested the waters. Carefully. Curiously. He placed a kiss against Gekko’s temple as his hand began to move. 

“Ah…” Gekko’s eyes darted back and forth, to the ceiling, to Iso, to his hands. To Iso. Like his gaze was too much to handle. “The way you’re looking at me…”

How was he looking at him? Iso didn’t have much time to wonder. His mind clung to the way Gekko’s neck bobbed, to the delicate line of his collarbone. The sweat forming against his skin. His shoulders, shaking. 

He couldn’t look away. 

“How is this?” Iso asked, genuine— but there was a curl to his lips, his own face growing hot. There was a rush of adrenaline beneath his skin that threatened to consume him. 

Gekko’s eyes closed. “Perfect,” he said, nearly breathless. “Just like that…”

Iso kept the steady rhythm with his hand, intoxicated by the sight of Gekko crumbling under his touch. He pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw, light. Teasing. His skin still smelled like the ocean. It was still warm from the sun. 

“I’ve th-thought about this a lot,” Gekko admitted, with his blissed out smile. “Your hands and your voice and just…”

Iso grew curious. “How often did you think of me like this?”

Gekko swallowed again, shuddering under his gaze. “God, all the time,” he said. “All the damn time.”

Iso really liked the sound of that. He smiled, his response coming as just a satisfied hum against Gekko’s jaw. He thought of Gekko too, of course. He couldn’t help himself when he was dating such a handsome, adorable guy. 

Gekko sighed again, lolling his head back against the pillow, exposing the curve of his throat. A thought resurfaced in Iso’s mind— he wanted nothing more than to, just… 

Gekko’s entire body jolted when Iso ran his tongue over the divot of his neck and collarbone. “Oh my god,” he choked out. “Zhao Yu, please .”

Please. That was doing something to him. 

Iso kissed along the muscles of Gekko’s neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. Tasting the remains of ocean salt and sweat and something so uniquely him. He felt the rumble of Gekko’s moans against his lips. His veins were on fire. 

“I thought about you all the time too,” Iso whispered between each kiss against his neck, feeling his walls crumbling. “How you might sound when I touched you. God, you’re beautiful.”

For a moment, he worried he might ruin the mood— but Gekko shivered again, like Iso’s words ran straight through him. Like lightning. Gekko bucked his hips against his hand, his fingers grasping at Iso’s shirt, his chest, his face. Anywhere they could find purchase in the storm of pleasure that overtook him. 

“Good?” Iso asked again, pulling away from the flushed skin of his neck. As much as his mind was a fog of Mateo, he still needed the assurance. He was only human. 

“Mhmm,” Gekko sighed, nodding. His expression alternated between tense and relaxed, between focused and blissful. Iso watched him, curious, and quickened his pace for just a moment. 

Gekko moaned against Iso’s ear, louder than he had before. He caught his breath, his hand against Iso’s shirt pulling tighter. “You have no idea what you do to me, cariño. God. Please.” 

Iso swore he saw violet reflected in Gekko’s eyes. Was that what he felt burning on his face? His own eyes?

Iso kissed him— on the lips, this time, drowning out his moans as they pressed against his mouth. He wanted to be the reason Gekko shuddered with pleasure. He wanted to be the reason he felt like heaven. Iso’s hand moved faster now, fueled by the sound of Gekko’s shaking, lustful voice. 

“So good,” Gekko said, in the few moments Iso pulled away, in the moments he let him breathe. “ God. You’re so good to me.”

Iso found himself grinning, his confidence growing. His eyes dropped to the sun pendant on Gekko’s bare chest. 

“Tiánxīn ,” Iso said against his lips, in the way he now knew Gekko loved so much. He barely even had to try. “I could look at you all day like this.” Another kiss. “So handsome. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Gekko held him tighter, his fingers grasping at his hair. His eyes fluttered shut at the compliment. His lips parted. 

“Yes,” Gekko breathed. “Yes.”

Iso dragged his hand in just the right way, stealing the moan it ripped from Gekko’s mouth with another sudden kiss. He felt the heat in his chest burn hotter, brighter, until it was fire. Molten. 

“Zh-zhao Yu,” Gekko said, strained. A warning. 

The fire spoke to Iso from a quiet part of his mind, as he felt Gekko trembling under his touch. This is mine. Everything about you is mine. 

It felt like second nature to lean closer, to press his lips right against Gekko’s ear, and whisper, “I’ve got you.”

And oh, how Iso loved the way Gekko kissed him when he was falling apart. The strangled cry in the back of his throat, the way his hands grasped at the back of his neck. Iso kept his eyes open, just barely, drinking in the sight.

Gekko shuddered one last time, his head falling against Iso’s chest as they broke away from the kiss— all he could do was catch his breath as Iso pulled his hand away, carefully, bringing it to rest on the side of Gekko’s hip. He pressed his thumb against the bone, running it back and forth in a slow, soothing motion.

Gekko had made quite a mess of himself, but Iso still couldn’t stop smiling. 

He kissed the crown of Gekko’s head. “I love you,” he said, nearly laughing. He felt a sliver of his old doubts returning— he wasn’t sure what else to say. 

Gekko looked up at him, his face still rosey. “I love you too,” he said. There was a moment he studied Iso’s face, recognizing the hesitation. “You’re like, really good at that. Where did that come from?”

Iso felt himself blushing again. “I honestly don’t know,” he admitted, running his hand up the curve of his waist. “Sit still for a second, okay?” 

Gekko laid where he was without a complaint, staring blissfully up towards the dark ceiling of their room. After a few moments, Iso returned with a rag and sat beside him again, wiping his stomach and chest. Iso could feel the burn of Gekko’s eyes in the corner of his vision— it only made his own blush worsen.

“So, this means I get to do you now, right?” Gekko asked, sing-song.   

Iso paused, looking from Gekko’s stomach to his face, to his playful grin. He hesitated.

“I don’t know if—” Iso took a breath. “I don’t think I want to, right now. Is that—”

“Yes, ” Gekko said in an instant. “Of course it’s okay.” 

Iso returned the smile. The fire under his still had melted back into a steady warmth. The sight of Gekko beneath him, so happy and pleased, so safe under his touch— everything made sense again. He wanted to savor this moment for the night. 

Iso finished cleaning off Gekko’s stomach and fell back beside him, pulling him close to his chest. There were still so many emotions inside of him that he struggled to understand, but he knew this felt right. He knew he wanted to hold him in his arms, steady, soaking in his light. 

“Thank you for being patient with me,” Iso whispered after a moment, pressing his face into the warm skin of Gekko’s neck— a spot he had grown to love. A spot that may have a mark or two in the morning. 

“Thank you for trusting me,” Gekko said. He ran a hand over Iso’s arm, his nails brushing over the skin in a way that almost tickled. 

There were a million things Iso wished he could have said. All of the apologies he pushed down, all of the thank yous he held until another time. He didn’t want to worry about the what-ifs in a moment like this— he just wanted to breathe deep against Gekko’s skin, to focus on the touch of his fingers against his arms. The unending comfort of his beloved. 

“We should probably take a shower before bed,” Gekko said after a moment. 

“Right. We both still smell like salt, don’t we?”

Gekko giggled. “Just a bit.”

“You can go first,” Iso said, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “I’ll wait.”

Gekko paused, resting a hand over Iso’s wrist. “Well, actually, I had an idea. You can say no if you want, of course, but would you wanna, like,” he bit his lip, “...shower with me?”

Iso opened his eyes, looking up towards Gekko’s nervous expression.

“Completely innocent, I promise,” Gekko said quickly, patting Iso’s cheek. “I thought it might be nice. Plus, I really wanna pamper you.”

Iso studied him. “You don’t owe me anything, Teo.”

“I know I don’t,” Gekko said, leaning closer. “But I love you, and I wanna make you feel good. Is that a crime?”

Iso couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped him. Gekko was looking at him with his big, adorable eyes and his little smile, and Iso was only human— he was hopelessly in love. Maybe this could help ease some of his anxieties. He tried to focus on that.

“Okay,” Iso agreed. He closed the distance for a quick kiss, cherishing the way Gekko smiled against his lips.  

The process of getting ready for the shower was like any other time— finding fresh towels, waiting for the perfect water temperature, getting together the various soaps and shampoos. And Iso still found himself freezing up the moment he had to get undressed. 

Beside him, Gekko slipped out of the rest of his clothes easily, without even the slightest hint of nerves. Iso wondered if he was only hiding it, for Iso’s sake, to make the entire experience less earth-shattering than it felt. His thoughts were loud.

Is this where you draw the line? This is really what you fear the most? 

Iso swallowed, and he looked down to the hand Gekko held out for him— he just had to meet him halfway. He looked at his gentle smile, his kind eyes and relaxed posture. Iso knew this was just another level of vulnerability that he had to face, another barrier to break through. He was so tired of feeling trapped inside his own head.

And when he took Gekko’s hand, he was met with a smile that could rival the sun. Gekko stepped forward, helping Iso out of his hoodie and undershirt. The motions were so quick, so casual, Iso barely even had time to feel any sense of panic or hesitation— and maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was just another part of Gekko’s clever, thoughtful little plans. 

By the time Iso stepped inside the shower with Gekko, he had already forgotten about being naked for the first time in front of him. Any initial shock or discomfort was drowned out by the warmth of the water over his shoulders, by the light touches against his arms. 

“Now just hold still, querido,” Gekko said, quiet. “I’ll take care of you.”

I’ll take care of you . Iso wasn’t sure when he had last heard those words. He wasn’t sure if he had ever heard them at all. 

Iso let his eyes close, getting swept away by the sensations around him.

Gekko started by shampooing Iso’s hair. The scent was something mildly floral, something fresh— he lathered it in Iso’s scalp, running his fingers along every sensitive spot on his head. His thumbs kneaded against his neck, and Iso nearly lost his balance.

It just felt so nice. It felt like heaven itself. 

Gekko led him back under the water with steady hands, helping to rinse away the rest of the soap. The water was warm, running over his skin like one continuous hug. He sighed, audible, as Gekko pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Good?” Gekko asked, and Iso wondered if he was mimicking the way he asked the same thing earlier, back when Gekko was too deep in the throes of pleasure to even form a response. Iso understood him too well at that moment. 

“Yes,” Iso sighed, barely able to keep his head upright as Gekko continued running his hands along the muscles of his back. There weren’t any thoughts left in the back of his mind. Everything was washed away by a cocoon of warmth, of safety, of Gekko’s gentle little laughter in his ear.

Gekko finished scrubbing his arms, his torso, even his legs. He made sure to clean and touch every inch of him— Iso felt like he was floating. His skin was singing. 

“I can help you,” Iso mumbled, determined to return the favor, his eyes still shut. He blindly reached forward, bumping against Gekko’s chest. “Where’s the soap?”

“I already washed up, babe,” Gekko said, holding Iso’s hands in his own. Had it really been that long already? 

Iso felt Gekko step closer, threading his arms around his torso until they were standing chest-to-chest, held together in a lazy, quiet hug. Iso felt his stomach flip— and for once, he embraced the moment.

The warm water ran over his face, his hair sticking to his forehead and temple, forming droplets against his eyelashes. He blinked open his eyes carefully, catching a glimpse of Gekko’s green hair, darker from the water, in the corner of his vision. Warm skin, the steady beat of his heart against his chest, the fingertips that trailed over the scars along his back. 

Iso realized— this was what love felt like, in its deepest, purest form. This vulnerability. This safety.

“Wǒ zhēn de hěn ài nǐ, Mateo,” Iso said, smiling like an sleepy, lovestruck fool. “Wǒ ài nǐ.”

In his arms, Gekko smiled against his neck, nuzzling ever-closer, his hands steady on his back. 

“Te amo más,” Gekko said back, nearly sighing it against him. 

They both understood one another. They always did.

The rest of the night passed like a blur in Iso’s tired eyes— the two of them begrudgingly left the shower, dried each other off, and got ready for bed. In many moments they were practically tangled around one another, stumbling side by side, never wanting to lose the warmth of contact. Gekko ruffled Iso’s damp hair with a hand towel, giggling as Iso tried to comb it back into place. 

By the time they fell into bed together, Iso’s entire body felt weightless, like the ocean breeze that flowed through the window. Gekko wasted little time nuzzling up behind him, pulling Iso tight against his chest— a little big spoon.

“Thank you, seriously,” Iso whispered into the dark of the room. He held his hand over Gekko’s. “You make this so… easy.”

He felt Gekko’s forehead on the back of his neck. “I’m proud of you,” he said. “Not to sound like a sports coach or anything, but I am.”

Iso laughed, breathless. They felt the weight of the day pressing down upon them, until a thought resurfaced in Iso’s mind like lightning.

“Oh, uh…” Iso reached an arm towards the nightstand. “Would you hate me if I had to text Iselin before bed? I promised I would. I can’t ghost her twice”

Gekko sighed, playfully exaggerated. “I guess,” he said, and kissed Iso’s bare shoulder. “You did get a little carried away earlier, after all.”

Iso nudged Gekko’s leg with his heel, snorting. “Hush.”

Gekko watched lazily over Iso’s shoulder as he typed a few messages back and forth with Deadlock, occasionally popping up to say, “send her that picture, that one was good,” or, “tell her to go for it!” Iso didn’t mind the prying eyes. Not when they were attached to someone he loved more than the stars themselves. 

Iso kept things brief in the end. He was finding it harder to keep his eyes open, and so was Gekko judging by the way his comments slowly devolved into grunts and mumbles.

Iso set his phone face-down on the nightstand, returning his hands to Gekko’s arms around his torso. “Goodnight, Teo,” he whispered over his shoulder.

Gekko pressed his head against Iso’s back. “G’ni…” he mumbled in return, already half-gone. 

Chapter Text

[MESSAGE LOG: AGENT-023/AGENT-024]

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Hey Iselin. We're just about to head to bed. [5:34AM UTC]

Today was amazing. Perfect weather for the beach. [5:34AM UTC]

[FILE ATTACHMENT: IMG034.JPG]

[The photo showed Wingman, half-buried in the sand, resting within Clove and Jett’s sandcastle.]

A picture of Wingman on the beach, as promised. [5:36AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:36AM UTC] Wow… thanks.

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Hahaha [5:36AM UTC]

But really, it was nice. Clove is having a good time too. [5:37AM UTC]

How was your day? [5:37AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:38AM UTC] I’m glad.

[5:38AM UTC] Things are weird around the base without you all. It’s quieter. 

[5:39AM UTC] We did some mission drills earlier with Harbor. 

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

How was it? [5:39AM UTC]

I’m sure you nailed it. [5:39AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:40AM UTC] Kirra and I practiced our timing together, but I never have to worry with her.

[5:40AM UTC] Hazal joined us as well. 

[5:41AM UTC] I asked her about a book I saw her reading the other night… would you have guessed she liked fantasy? 

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Oh really? I knew she played DND with Clove sometimes. [5:42AM UTC]

You should trade her something. [5:42AM UTC]

(I’m halfway through the book you gave me, by the way. It was great on the plane.) [5:43AM UTC]

 

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:45AM UTC] That's good... but I don’t know.

[5:45AM UTC] You know my recommendations aren’t exactly the most uplifting.

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

If I didn’t know you better, I would think you’re nervous. [5:46AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:46AM UTC] Very funny.

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

I’m serious, Iselin. [5:46AM UTC]

Don’t overthink it. [5:47AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:47AM UTC] Okay.

[5:47AM UTC] So you’ve been kidnapped.

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Mateo also says you should go for it. [5:48AM UTC]

 At least think about it. [5:48AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:48AM UTC] Right.

[5:50AM UTC] Maybe I’ll invite her to join Kirra and I the next time we go on a nature walk.

[5:50AM UTC] But I don’t know if she’s an outdoor person or not. Would she hate that?

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

I think she’ll appreciate the offer. That’s what matters. [5:51AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:52AM UTC] Yes... you’re probably right. I’ll ask her tomorrow.

[5:52AM UTC] Technically today. It's usually dawn when you message me.

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Have you been up all night? [5:53AM UTC]

Actually, don't answer that. [5:53AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:53AM UTC] I've found the best conversations happen at night. 

[5:53AM UTC] Thanks for the advice, Zhao Yu. 

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Anytime :) [5:54AM UTC]

But I’ve gotta go. I feel like I’m gonna pass out. [5:54AM UTC]

I'll text you tomorrow, okay? [5:54AM UTC]

DEADLOCK [VAL-SECURE]

[5:54AM UTC] Of course. Goodnight.

[MESSAGE LOG: AGENT-025/AGENT-024]

CLOVE [VAL-SECURE]

[5:59AM UTC] heyyy quick question

[5:59AM UTC] what does thrash like to eat?

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Mateo says radianite, mostly. [6:00AM UTC]

CLOVE [VAL-SECURE]

[6:00AM UTC] UM

[6:00AM UTC] would she hypothetically be able to eat other things

[6:00AM UTC] like maybe a chunk of wood off a coffee table

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Hypothetically… [6:01AM UTC]

CLOVE [VAL-SECURE]

[6:01AM UTC] DONT tell mateo 

[FILE ATTACHMENT: IMG234.JPG]

[The photo showed Clove holding the leg of the coffee table with a visible chunk taken out. Thrash was in the background, her eyes reflecting the light of the camera flash.]

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Oh my god. [6:02AM UTC]

CLOVE [VAL-SECURE]

[6:02AM UTC] IS SHE GOING TO DIE

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

She’ll be fine. I’ve seen her eat all kinds of things before. [6:03AM UTC]

Just make sure she doesn’t eat the rest of it I guess. [6:04AM UTC]

CLOVE [VAL-SECURE]

[6:04AM UTC] gotcha

[6:04AM UTC] okay crisis averted goodnight :3

ISO [VAL-SECURE]

Goodnight, Clove. [6:05AM UTC]

And try to get some rest? [6:05AM UTC]

CLOVE [VAL-SECURE]

[6:05AM UTC] lmao

Chapter Text

Iso wondered, sometimes, if his nightmares existed to snap him back into reality. 

A cruel reminder, when he let the memories of his past slip away in nothing. When he let himself get too comfortable. 

This night was no different. It didn’t matter if he was held in the arms of his lover. It didn’t matter if the ocean air had made him forget the smell of blood. 

His thoughts remind him. 

The images pass in front of his eyes too quickly: graying skin, blood-soaked clumps of hair, and vacant, lifeless eyes. He swears he recognizes some of it. He swears he knows them— these victims.

He tries looking closer. Through the flashes of red and black and white. The colors of the dead he wishes he could forget. 

He can’t breathe. 

“Your hands,” whispers a voice beside his ear.

Iso looks down. His hands are drenched in red again, and it burns. He claws at the skin, peels it back, tears himself apart until he can’t tell if the blood is his own or someone else’s.

“I love your hands,” says the voice again. A familiar laugh.

What is there to love? He doesn’t understand.

Iso stumbles to his knees, his nails dragging over flesh. Nothing is enough to stop the burn of memories against his skin. To erase what they’ve done. 

The blood is rising again. It’s up to his waist. 

“Dead Lilac.” 

The voice has never spoken those words before. It makes him feel sick. 

He feels eyes watching him from under the surface, under the red. Out of the corner of his vision, he sees them— each one familiar. Somehow. 

Black, with a glimmer of jade. Gold, like sparks of a fire. Blue, like glacial ice. 

And then there’s brown. 

Iso woke up with a scream ripped from his throat. 

For the first few seconds, he couldn’t hear anything. It was drowned out in the static, by the blood rushing in his ears from his racing heart. He thought he heard himself shouting. 

Gekko jolted awake beside him, scrambling to sit up. “Wh-what’s wrong?” 

Iso struggled to fill his lungs, pressing himself against the plush headboard until it hurt. Strands of damp hair clung to his forehead. He scanned the room for danger, trembling, his body on high alert. 

The room was too dark. His eyes were playing tricks on him— they flickered towards the ceiling, expectant. Terrified. 

Gekko grabbed Iso’s shoulders tightly, his eyes wide in the dark. He tried getting him to look at him, but Iso’s eyes didn’t move. They couldn’t.

“Zhao Yu?” Gekko asked again, frantic. “Are you okay?” 

Suddenly his voice registered in Iso’s head. Mateo. 

Iso felt like his eyes were on fire, like they were burning deeper into his skull. He grabbed Gekko’s face between his hands without warning, pulling him closer, studying his features for one specific thing.  

The space between his eyes— intact. 

“Zhao Yu!” Gekko said, louder. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me, man.”

I am never scared of you. His boyfriend’s words from only hours ago repeated in his head. Iso tried to convince himself this wasn’t the same— Gekko was only worried about him. He was always worried about him, wasn’t he?

Because you’re losing it. 

Iso swallowed. He stared back at Gekko for a quiet moment, but it was anything but quiet. His ears rang like a gun had fired inside his skull. The eyes that looked back at him were nearly tearing him apart. 

“I need fresh air,” Iso said suddenly, letting his eyes drift towards the door. His voice lacked emotion. 

He pulled back from Gekko faster than the other could reach out for him, his eyes focused straight ahead. Where he would go, he didn’t know yet. Iso just knew he needed to get out. 

The ocean. The bedroom fan. The sky. His thoughts. It was all too loud. 

He swiped his earbuds from his nightstand and tucked them into his pockets, hitting his shoulder on the doorframe as he walked past it, not even registering the ache. He was halfway outside before Gekko had a chance to speak again. 

Iso slid the patio door shut, reaching into his pockets with shaking hands. He shoved his earbuds into his ears, cupping his hands around his head as the music played. 

He blinked, and he was sitting stiff on a straw patio chair, his hands gripping the edges of his phone. The volume went up until it couldn’t. Every thought became trapped in the web of endless sound. 

And Iso let it drown out the world in a familiar wave of static. No more crashing waves. No more shallow breaths. No more thoughts. Just nothing. 

Iso sat in the nothing until his vision blended into static too, until he couldn’t feel his white knuckled hands against the seat. The nothing was around him as much as the nothing was inside of him, and then something pressed against his cheek— a shock, at first. 

But the touch was warm. It was the only thing Iso felt. The warmth spread over his cheeks, and Iso could feel his face again. It bled into his vision until the colors of the night came back into focus— indigo, obsidian, starlight. 

Brown. 

And Iso knew that color better than anything. He blinked again, and he saw the concerned face of his boyfriend fall into focus— his unfamiliar frown, the crease between his brows. Gekko crouched on the deck, his hands cupping Iso’s wet cheeks. 

When did they get wet? It didn’t make sense. 

Iso blinked again, because it felt like the only thing he could do. He felt one of Gekko’s hands reach towards his ear, stopping once his fingertips pressed against his earbud. 

Iso couldn’t hear him over the music. But he could read his lips. 

“Can I take these out?” 

Iso couldn’t tell exactly what he felt in that moment— a mixture of mortification, shame, and also nothing at all. He wanted to disappear, to sink through the floor and out of sight, but he knew he couldn’t hide. 

Not now. Not like this.

So Iso nodded, just barely, and held still as Gekko pulled the earbuds out. He heard the hum of the ocean, the wind against his ears, and something jagged. He realized a moment later it was his own breathing.  

Gekko set the earbuds on the patio table, returning a hand to Iso’s cheek. His skin was warm to the touch. It always was, but something about it now felt molten. Iso almost flinched away.

“What can I do to help?” Gekko asked him. He was searching for something in Iso’s eyes, his voice so sweet it felt like daggers against Iso’s chest. 

Gekko’s face became blurry again, and Iso remembered his own tears. The words poured from his mouth in an instant.

“Don’t look at me,” Iso said. “Please.”

Gekko’s expression drooped, looking between Iso’s eyes with a certain sadness he had never seen before. Iso kept his eyes forward as Gekko stood up, walking just out of his view. A jolt of panic shot through him.

“Don’t leave,” Iso said quickly, his hand reaching out for Gekko. He caught something— his shirt, maybe.

He couldn’t bear the thought of being seen like this, and yet he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone. Make up your mind, he wanted to scream. 

Gekko’s hand closed around his own. “I won’t, cariño,” he said, gentle. “I promise.”

There was a dip, and Iso realized Gekko had moved to sit behind him on the lawn chair. There was enough room for them both. Another gust of wind blew against Iso’s face, chilling the tears on his cheeks.

An open palm pressed against his back. Iso felt his muscles squeeze his bones like cracked marble. He felt like he might tremble out of his skin.

“Is this better?” Gekko asked. It was strange to hear him and not see him, and yet Iso felt the shame in his throat begin to fade. Barely. 

Iso squeezed his eyes shut, forcing the stray tears to fall. “Yeah.”

“Do you need to call Sage?”

It was an innocent suggestion— tempting, almost. Sage was the only person who was even remotely familiar with Iso’s sporadic nightmares, but he knew he couldn’t call her. He didn’t want to.

“No.” Iso cleared his throat, poorly disguising the shake in his voice. “I don’t want them to think I’m compromised.”

Gekko paused. “Compromised?” he asked. “Zhao Yu, this… this isn’t a mission.”

Gekko ran his hand over Iso’s spine in a slow, repeating pattern. Up and down. Up and down. 

Iso kept his eyes shut, clinging to the touch like a lifeline. It felt like the only thing tethering him to the ground, as much as it felt like something he didn’t deserve. 

“It’s nothing,” Iso said. He knew it wouldn’t be enough. 

He felt another hand press against his back— on his other shoulder blade, targeting the tension held beneath it. He shuddered. 

“Stop that,” Gekko said. “Please don’t lie to me.”

Another wave of guilt washed over him, but he couldn’t speak. Iso managed only a quiet, pathetic whine, strangled in the back of his throat. 

Gekko threaded his hands under Iso’s arms, coming to a stop against his chest. He felt Gekko’s cheek against his back now, as he held him in a loose hug from behind. 

“It was a nightmare, right?” Gekko asked. 

Iso held deathly still, trying to make sense of the warring thoughts inside his head. The battle of shame and guilt and sorrow. 

How much could he tell Gekko before the thread holding him together finally snapped?

“Yes,” Iso said through gritted teeth. 

Gekko’s chest radiated warmth against his back. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he said, his fingers gripping at the fabric of Iso’s shirt. “But I want you to feel like you can tell me anything, if you want to.”

If you want to. That was always the condition. 

Iso thought about the different ways this could go— he could say nothing, spend the night in Gekko’s caring, soothing embrace, and wake up in the morning like nothing happened. He could continue on until another unfortunate night when he woke up screaming beside him, only to repeat the process once again. 

Or he could tell Gekko the truth. Risk the humiliation. Expose his core once again. 

Will it make it all go away? No, Iso knew better than to think like that. But he also knew how much Gekko cared for him— he could feel it in the way he held him, like something precious. He could hear it in his voice, so quiet and sweet. 

And Iso couldn’t lie to him. Gekko didn’t deserve that. 

Iso took a breath, opening his eyes once more. 

“I have nightmares about contracts,” he said, his voice unnaturally level. “The targets are other agents. Friends. People I’ve grown to care about.” He paused. “Sometimes it’s you.”

If Gekko had any reaction, he didn’t show it. He kept his hold on Iso firm, unmoving, as he continued to speak. 

“Th-they get worse when I least expect it... like a reminder not to get too comfortable with my new life,” Iso said, feeling his heartbeat quicken again. “A reminder to not forget what I’ve done. What I could do.”

He felt Gekko squeeze him tighter, like a brake to his thoughts. 

“I’m sorry,” Gekko said, and it was enough of a surprise to knock Iso out of his own head. 

“Why are you apologizing?”

Gekko shook his head against Iso’s back. “Not like that,” he said. “I mean, like, I’m sorry that you have to deal with that. It sounds terrible.” 

Iso blinked. The thought occurred to him— yeah, it is pretty fucking terrible, isn’t it? 

He didn’t know what kind of reaction he was expecting out of Gekko. Maybe insisting that he’s different now, or that he’s not at fault for what he did. Sage always offered some kind of wisdom, a method to reframe his thoughts. 

It was helpful, of course, and necessary. Iso needed the strength of someone like Sage to pull him back down to earth, to help him push past the discomfort just to function.

But no one had ever just… validated his feelings. No one had ever told him what he’s feeling is exactly how anyone else would feel. 

Sometimes he wished he could scream: don’t you understand what kind of hell I’m going through? Iso’s throat grew tight, his cheeks hot. 

“Yeah, it’s terrible,” Iso repeated, and then he broke. 

The sob wracked his body like he was made of glass. He trembled like something volatile festered just beneath his skin, like he was held together only by the pressure of Gekko’s arms around him. 

Iso sucked in a breath. “Fuck, sorry.”

“Shhh,” Gekko hushed him, squeezing him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Iso expected a simple let it all out, or it’s okay— he could almost hear it in Gekko’s voice. But it wasn’t okay, and Iso could never in a million years have the time to let it all out. 

And Gekko knew that. 

He knew that, and all he could do is simply be there. All Iso could ever truly want is for Gekko to be there. 

“I’m just so tired, Mateo,” Iso said. He took a shaking breath. “I’m tired of reliving those moments. I am so sick of the blood on my hands.”

A moment later, Iso registered the feeling of Gekko’s hands closing over his own. He pulled them against Iso’s chest, wrapping him in a hug again. 

Iso noticed a slight sting on his nails— he had been picking them without even realizing. He would have kept going until they bled. Gekko held them still. Safe.

“God,” Gekko said, and Iso could hear the sadness in his voice. “You don’t deserve that.”

What did he deserve, then? Iso couldn’t think about it for too long. He focused his eyes on the distant waves, blinking away another stream of tears. 

“I’m tired of feeling like I could lose everything in an instant,” he admitted. A familiar anxiety. “That everything will go back to the way it was.”

“It won’t,” Gekko said, in a way Iso almost believed. Almost. 

Iso felt himself being tugged backwards, gradually, as Gekko pulled him against his chest. Gekko reclined in the chair, keeping Iso held snugly in his arms. 

“It was easier before all this,” Iso continued, letting himself be moved. “Myths don’t have to feel anything. They just shoot.” He almost laughed, his tone growing bitter. 

“But you weren’t living your own life,” Gekko said, “were you?” 

Iso felt his tears staining the bandaid on his cheek. Beneath it, the scar left by his mirror still burned, sometimes. He hoped that the stab wound on his double’s chest did the same. 

“They were using you,” Mateo continued. He moved one of his arms upward, placing a hand against Iso’s temple, and pressed his head back against his chest. “That isn’t your fault.”

Iso was looking at the stars, now. 

“But I still liked it,” Iso admitted. “I liked feeling in control. Feeling powerful.” He took a deep, trembling breath. “And that’s the worst part. I was content to live like a weapon for so long.”

The admission felt like a hole being carved through his chest. Am I a monster?

“Anyone would be, I think.” Gekko toyed with Iso’s hairline, running his fingers in little circles. “What else did you really know?”

Iso’s eyes flickered between the stars, and he realized just how little he had shared of his past with Gekko. With anyone, really. 

He tried to avoid it. There was no use in giving his life story if it was one he was trying to rewrite— but there were memories that sat in the back of his mind, ones that seemed to put his feelings into context if he didn’t choose to ignore them. 

“Can I tell you something?” Iso asked.

“Anything,” Gekko replied in an instant.

Iso took a breath, his eyes closing.

“I was trained from a young age. My early teenage years,” Iso said, slowly. His throat felt raw. “Not long after First Light, when my radiance manifested.”

Behind him, he felt Gekko still. He was listening with his entire being. 

“I remember hating it, at first.” He sucked in a breath. “The noise, or the way people looked when they were dead. The music helped, I guess… but eventually it stopped feeling like a shock. It just became normal.”

Gekko squeezed Iso to his chest, tighter.  

“Before I knew it I was just… good at it. It was familiar, a routine.” Iso sighed. “It felt like the only thing I could do.”

“But you were never comfortable with it,” Gekko whispered. “Not really.”

“No. Not really,” Iso repeated. 

The realization hit him like a bullet. The difference between living with what he had been given and real, genuine comfort. 

“It wasn’t fair,” Gekko said. “It’s still not fair that you have to deal with the aftermath.”

“I wasn’t helpless,” Iso said after a moment. “Every pull of the trigger was still a choice I made.”

Gekko’s hand trailed down against Iso’s cheek, and he blindly wiped away a tear with his thumb. 

“And so is this,” Gekko said. He squeezed Iso to emphasize his point. “Choosing to start over.”

And you took the first step, this time. No one else. 

Iso let that thought sit in his mind, and for the first time all night, he began to appreciate the way the ocean air felt against his damp cheeks— cooling, soothing. It grounded him just as much as the warmth of Gekko’s body. 

It felt strange to have said so much. It felt strange not to feel like he regretted it, either. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” Iso whispered. 

Behind him, Gekko kissed the crown of his head. “It’s okay.”

“Thank you for just…” Iso paused. The entire time he lay in Gekko’s arms, he never felt stupid, or dramatic. “…listening to me.”

This wasn’t something Iso felt like he could solve— not in a few words, or in an entire night. Gekko knew it too. 

Iso didn’t need a fix-all. He just didn’t want to be alone. 

“Thank you for telling me, querido,” Gekko said. “Do you feel any better?” 

Iso felt the rings under his eyes. “A little, yeah.”

He didn’t remember when he had stopped shaking. Gekko’s touch was enough to soothe the edges of his frayed nerves. 

“I love you,” Gekko said. “Every version of you, okay? You don’t have to, like, pretend around me or anything. I mean it.”

The words threatened to make Iso cry again. He swallowed hard, keeping himself in one piece. 

“I love you too,” he said, and the last claws of his nightmare released, flowing away in the nighttime breeze. He shut his eyes, breathing deep. 

He wasn’t sure if the nightmares would ever truly go away, or if there would always be moments like tonight where the worst clawed their way back to the surface. Iso realized— it wasn’t the nightmares he had feared the most.

It was this. 

Gekko seeing him at his lowest. Knowing that after all this time, he was still struggling. 

But as Gekko placed another tired kiss against his messy, wind-swept hair, Iso wondered why he even worried in the first place. 

“I want you to meet my mom.”

Because Gekko would never judge him for— wait, what?

“What?” Iso repeated his thoughts. His eyes snapped open. 

It felt like the expanse of the ocean had faded away, and it was just the two of them again, cuddling on a straw lawn chair on the patio.