The air in the bakery felt like it was charged with electricity. The man from the Oversight Committee, a guy named Inspector Sato, didn't look like he was here for a friendly chat. He looked like the kind of man who ate secrets for breakfast.
Daisetsu didn't let go of Yasuo's hand. In fact, he laced their fingers together, a silent signal that they were a package deal. "The 'civilian' is my partner," Daisetsu said, his voice dropping into that deep, protective rumble. "Anything you have to say to me, you say to both of us."
Sato raised an eyebrow, looking at their joined hands. "A bold choice, Nakamura. Especially given your history. But honestly? We don't care who you're sleeping with. We care about the 'Iron Dragon' gang. They've been using this district as a playground, and you're the only one who's actually fought back."
"I was protecting my home," Daisetsu snapped.
"And you did a good job," Sato countered, gesturing to the boarded-up windows. "But they're coming back. Harder this time. We want to end them, but we need an insider. Someone they already know and fear. Someone with... 'underground' experience."
Sato leaned forward, his voice dropping. "You help us set up a sting at the old docks tomorrow night, and we wipe your record. No more 'violent criminal' tags. No more blackmail from people like Kaede or Tenshin. You'll be a clean man, Sensei. For good."
Yasuo felt his heart leap. A clean record? That meant Daisetsu could teach without fear. They could be together without shadows. But his stomach also did a sick flip. The docks? That sounds like a suicide mission.
"What's the catch?" Yasuo asked, stepping forward.
Sato looked at him. "The catch is that it's dangerous. Very. And we need someone to act as the bait. Someone the gang thinks is vulnerable."
Daisetsu's grip on Yasuo's hand tightened so hard it almost hurt. "No. Absolutely not. He is stayin' out of this."
"Daisetsu—" Yasuo started.
"I said NO, Yasuo!" Daisetsu roared, turning to him. His eyes were full of a raw, primal fear. "I almost lost you when they messed the shop. I'm not putting a target on your back for some government deal!"
Sato shrugged, standing up. "Think about it. You have until midnight. If you say no, we leave, and you're on your own when the Dragons show up to finish the job."
As soon as the door closed behind Sato, the bakery exploded.
"How could you even think about it?" Daisetsu yelled, pacing the flour-dusted floor like a caged lion. "The docks? Do you know what kind of people hang out there? They aren't school bullies, Yasuo. They're killers!"
"And they're coming here anyway!" Yasuo yelled back, his voice cracking. "Daisetsu, look at this place! We're already targets! If we take this deal, we get our lives back. We get to be us without looking over our shoulders!"
"I won't lose you anymore!" Daisetsu grabbed Yasuo by the shoulders, his thumbs digging into the soft fabric of Yasuo's hoodie. He was shaking. The "Stoic Protector" was completely falling apart. "You're the only sweet thing I've ever had, Yasuo. I won't let them turn you into 'metallic' garbage like me."
Yasuo looked up at him, his heart breaking. He reached up and cupped Daisetsu's face, pulling the big man down until their foreheads touched. "You're not garbage. You're my Daisetsu. And I'm not a 'Shy Nurturer' who needs to be locked in a tower. I'm your partner. Let me help you."
Daisetsu let out a broken sound, a mix of a sob and a growl. He pulled Yasuo into a crushing hug, burying his face in Yasuo's neck. They stood there for a long time, the only sound the ticking of the bakery clock.
"Fine," Daisetsu whispered into his skin. "But if things get bad... you run. You don't look back. You just run to Grandma and stay there."
"I'm not running," Yasuo promised.
The tension of the argument suddenly shifted into something else—something hotter, deeper, and more desperate. The thought of the danger tomorrow made every second tonight feel like gold. Daisetsu pulled back, his eyes dark with a hunger that made Yasuo's knees weak.
He swept a pile of clean napkins off the prep table and lifted Yasuo up, sitting him on the cold metal surface. Daisetsu stepped between Yasuo's legs, his hands sliding up to grip Yasuo's thighs.
"I need to feel you," Daisetsu groaned, his voice a low, sexy rasp. "I need to know you're real before we do this."
He crashed his lips onto Yasuo's, the kiss tasting of salt and desperation. It was a "one last night" kind of energy. Daisetsu's hands were everywhere—mapping Yasuo's body through his clothes, pulling him closer until there was no space left.
Yasuo wrapped his legs around Daisetsu's waist, pulling the teacher in. He reached for the buttons of Daisetsu's shirt, his fingers fumbling in his haste. When the shirt finally fell away, Yasuo pressed his chest against Daisetsu's hot, scarred skin.
"You're mine," Daisetsu whispered against his lips, his hands sliding under Yasuo's hoodie to touch his bare back. "Tomorrow, today, forever. You're mine."
The "bromance" had burned away, leaving only a fire that couldn't be quenched. In the dim light of the half-ruined bakery, they forgot about the docks, the gang, and the Inspector. There was only the heat of their bodies and the silent promise that they wouldn't let go.
At midnight, Daisetsu picked up the phone and dialed Sato's number.
"We're in," he said, his voice hard as iron. "But if a single hair on his head is touched, I'm not just taking down the gang. I'm coming for you next."
He hung up and looked at Yasuo, who was leaning against the counter, looking rumpled and loved.
"Get some sleep, Cutie Boy," Daisetsu said, a dark glint in his eyes. "Tomorrow night... we finish this."
But as Yasuo headed upstairs, he didn't see the message that popped up on Daisetsu's phone from an unknown contact:
"The Baker's childhood friend is a talker, Sensei. We know about the sting. See you at the docks."