Chapter Text
KATSUKI
“Why can’t you ever just use a door like a normal fucking person?”
Katsuki pulls the mod driver away from the sensor in his arm, making his alloy fingers twitch with the sudden disconnection. He flexes them a few times slowly to determine whether the timing lag is fixed and then turns his hand face up to emit a series of small explosions that flare up into the air with booms that rattle the nearby work tables. He turns his bioware eye upward and focuses it in on the lurking presence that shifts in the shadows. “Mindfuck, I don’t fucking have time for your games tonight!” he shouts towards the rafters and presses the driver back to the connection in his arm to tune it just a hair further.
Out of the corner of his eye he watches the shadows seem to morph and then silently drop down to the floor just behind his primary work table. “How do you always know that I’m there?” Hitoshi purrs as he materializes into the air, deactivating his camouflage.
Katsuki side-eyes him with his good eye and sneers, “I developed that tech, asshole. You think I don’t know it when I see it? Besides, you forget that you still have a shadow, dumbass.”
Hitoshi just smirks that stupid smirk that used to make Katsuki’s leathers tight. “What crawled up your ass tonight?”
Katsuki grunts and pulls the driver away again to repeat the same process as before. Satisfied, he swivels on his stool to face the interloper in his workshop. “Got a new client comin’ in and don’t want him to see a fucking agent in here.”
Hitoshi raises a brow and leans back against a metal support column, crossing his arms. “Oh?... Do tell…”
Katsuki huffs through his nose. “Ain’t telling you shit…you don’t meddle in my shit and I don’t meddle in yours. That was the fucking deal when you joined up with those UA enforcement assholes.”
“C’mon, Kats…the money was worth it. It’s a pretty cushy gig,” Hitoshi whines in a fake pouty tone that grates on Katsuki’s last damn nerve.
“Yeah and ya fuckin’ turned your back on all of Underside to do it. Now, you fuckin’ bust pricks like me, thinkin’ you’re all hot shit now that you’re legal,” Katsuki grumbles, trying to keep the bitterness from his tone.
Hitoshi uncrosses his arms and stands to his full height before prowling around the table and into the light. His hair is shorter than the last time Katsuki saw him, undercut shaved into one side and purple hair flipped to the other side where it hangs wildly just above his shoulder. His neck is still covered with the bioware implant that Katsuki had designed and installed to help his ex-lover when he was still hunting bounties. The tech allows him to control others with his voice and is one of Katsuki’s crowning achievements. He’s bulked up from the tall lanky build that he used to have when he still shared Katsuki’s bed and Katsuki can’t help but stare. Per usual, Hitoshi is in all black, but now he sports the slick armor indicative of UA personel…a goddamn planetary enforcement agent. Katsuki looks away with a ‘tch’ of disgust as Hitoshi comes to stand in front of him.
“Awwww Kitkat, sounds a lot like you miss me…” Hitoshi rumbles, lowering his voice into a seductive tone that sends an involuntary shiver down Katsuki’s spine.
Katsuki shoots him a sharp glare. “You’re the one that fuckin’ left, Shin. You don’t get to just fuckin’ pop in every couple of months and rub my goddamn nose in it,” he growls defensively.
Hitoshi at least has the decency to grimace at Katsuki’s barb. Good, the fucker should feel fuckin’ bad. Katsuki presses in on the release on the underside of his arm and the shield slides shut over the internal mechanisms.
“Kitkat–” Hitoshi starts and reaches out and brushes the bangs out of Katsuki’s face.
Katsuki tries to stuff down the hurt that threatens to rise and jerks away from the touch. “You don’t get to do that anymore, Shin!” he shouts angrily. Fuck Hitoshi and his goddamn houdini bullshit. Every few months he decides to show up like clockwork after his missions in The Dark, where he does whatever the fuck he does to arrest all the bad little girls and boys of the Verse, and stirs up all of Katsuki’s emotions before they inevitably end up tangled sweaty and naked in Katsuki’s bed…But Hitoshi is always gone by morning and Katsuki is left to pick up the fucking pieces in the aftermath. Every time he tells himself that it’s the last…and every time he fucking makes a liar out of himself.
“Just fuckin’ get out of here, not in the mood tonight,” Katsuki growls and stands to start clearing his workspace. His new client should be here any minute and Katsuki needs to be ready. This should be his last one…his big payday…hopefully the one that will finally earn him enough coin to get the fuck off of this fucking rock.
Hitoshi just watches him carefully for a moment, something undecipherable in his gaze. “Who’s the client, Kitkat?” he asks softly.
Katsuki rounds on him. “Why the fuck are you here, Shin?! I told you to get the fuck out!”
Hitoshi’s synthetic lilac eyes narrow on him. “I’m here for you,” he states almost so quietly that without Katsuki’s hearing mods he wouldn’t have heard. Something in Hitoshi’s tone catches his attention though…
Katsuki raises a brow, his lips curled in distaste. He’s known Hitoshi since they were kids and can hear the slight tilt in his inflection. He’s lying about something…or withholding something.
Katsuki takes a menacing step into his space, looking up into those eyes, searching. Hitoshi is up to something. Katsuki can practically smell it on him. “Why are you here, Shin?” Katsuki repeats, voice low and deadly.
Hitoshi meets his gaze. “Just worried about you and wanted to see you,” he murmurs. Katsuki watches his eyes carefully, his right one zooming in to measure the pupil for dilation. He lets out a relieved sigh when he detects no hint of a lie. He stubbornly shoves down the warm feeling rising in his chest at the meaning in the quiet words and summons his trusty anger to deflect his pathetic pining. Hitoshi is still hiding something, but he doesn’t have the time right now to rip it out of the shifty fuck.
“Well, there’s no need and I don’t want to see you,,” Katsuki clips out. “Can take care of myself. Been doing it this fuckin’ long…” He takes a step back and turns back to his table. “Don’t fuckin’ need you,” he mutters under his breath, trying to convince himself that it’s true. He starts to gather his tools and dump them into the rolling toolbox off to the side. He doesn’t really give a shit if his space is messy for clients…it’s his fucking space and if they don’t like it, they can fuck right the hell off. But, he needs something to do with his hands…
“Kitkat, I’ve been stationed back on the worldship. I don’t have to leave this time,” Hitoshi mumbles in a pleading tone.
Katsuki braces his hands on the metal edge of the desk and tucks his chin to his chest to take a deep breath to steel himself. He promised himself that he wouldn’t do this again…He’s not going to… He lets the heavy silence settle between them, tension thick and cloying. His heart aches and latches onto Hitoshi’s implication.
They used to be a pair, inseparable. Even as orphaned younglings, the two of them were a force to be reckoned with, ruling the streets of the Underside with ruthless intensity. Of course, as they matured…so too did their relationship. Katsuki went on to develop some of the most volatile weapons and bioware that the gangs that ruled the worldship had ever seen and Hitoshi had become a bount, hunting people with hefty prices on their heads for all of the lords and ladies that ruled behind the scenes. They made an indomitable duo, sharing everything… Katsuki had thought they were living good…thought that they were forever . But then one day, Hitoshi was gone without a word to join up with UA (United Alliances), the inter-planetary enforcement agency…the very fucking people that strive to put Katsuki behind bars and stuff him away on some fringe planet where he’ll never see the suns again.
“What does it matter now, Shin?” Katsuki sighs out, chest aching. “You left our life behind. Left me behind… So, if you’re not gonna fuckin’ cuff me, then get the hell out…”
“Kitkat, I’d never do that,” Hitoshi states firmly. Katsuki glances to the side when a large palm settles between his shoulder blades and begins to rub over the seam where Katsuki’s cybernetic meets his skin beneath his tank top. Hitoshi kneads the spot that always seems to ache no matter how much pain salve Katsuki smears over it. Katsuki resists the urge to lean into the tender touch that always used to make him melt. Hitoshi has always known just how to sink under Katsuki’s defenses…and he’s so tempted to allow him to again… one last time.
“Shin…” Katsuki whispers, hating the desperation that hitches the name. He wishes Hitoshi would just go and never come back so that he can finally get over the maelstrom of emotion that swamps him every time he even sees the other man. But, another part of him longs for what they had, for the man that he’d loved with every fiber of his being.
The loud buzz that suddenly echoes through the old warehouse that serves as Katsuki’s workshop jolts them both. Katsuki straightens, letting the intimate moment dissolve and turns to face the man that broke his heart, steeling himself. One last payday and he’s gone… “Time for you to leave,” Katsuki monotones, avoiding Hitoshi’s gaze for fear of getting sucked into the unreliable promise that he knows lies there.
Hitoshi grabs his chin and tilts it up, forcing Katsuki to glance up anyways. “Kitkat, skip this client. You don’t need them. Let me take care of you. I’m here to stay. You don’t have to do all of this anymore, you don't have to be a tinker any longer,” he says, looking at Katsuki like he cherishes him and Katsuki wishes he could trust it.
Fury rises swift and hot in Katsuki’s gut. “Fuck you, Shin. I like what I do. I’m not the one who decided to suddenly switch sides and skip ship. You don’t get to come in here and tell me what to do with my life,” Katsuki hisses venomously.
Hitoshi’s eyes flash with hurt, but then something glints in his gaze, catching Katsuki off-guard and once more suspicion slithers through him. “Katsuki, please…just forget this client. We’ll work it out, I promise,” he says in a dissonant tone that raises Katsuki’s hackles even more.
“I’m not fucking skipping anything, Shin. Now get out before I decide to blast you out the door myself,” Katsuki threatens, placing his palm on Hitoshi’s chest.
Hitoshi gives him a pleading look, but then shakes his head ruefully. “Always gotta be so stubborn, baby…” he murmurs and strokes over the stubble on Katsuki’s jaw with a thumb for a moment. Katsuki wants to snarl and rage while simultaneously wanting more of Hitoshi’s touch.
Another loud buzz reverberates through the warehouse and Katsuki jerks himself away from Hitoshi’s fingers, feeling the hole inside him rip just a little wider. He steps around Hitoshi and starts stalking towards the security door.
“You better be gone by the time I get back,” he warns, straightening his spine as he walks around the scattered work tables with projects in various stages of development towards the metal hallway that leads to the door where his guest is waiting.
As he enters the hall, he hazards a glance over his shoulder and Hitoshi is nowhere to be seen…just a ghost in the wind. Katsuki wonders if this truly will be the last time he sees him as he finally reaches the door. He resolutely ignores the pang that shoots through him at the thought.
Another annoying buzz of the alarm rakes over his already frayed nerves as he places his palm on the scanner and punches in the code on the holopad. There’s a gind of gears and bolts sliding as the door unlocks. He yanks on the handle and pulls it open with a heavy creak.
“Yeah, yeah…keep your pants on. I’m fucking here–” he grumbles, but his words taper off as he stares up at a man nearly twice his size leaning casually against the doorway, filling the entire eight foot frame. Katsuki resists the urge to take a step back at the imposing aura and menace that radiates from the fucking monster that is looking down at him with intense garnet eyes. Long red hair frames a sharp angular face with long strands that seem to have escaped from a low bun on the back of the man’s head. Katsuki is distracted by miles of tan skin that show hulking natural muscles that Katsuki has never seen outside of aesthetic mods, proudly on display with only a tight black tank top to break up the sight. Dark cargo pants cover thighs that look larger than Katsuki’s waist and worn scratched boots that are larger than Katsuki’s face rest on the pavement below. He glances back up and finally notices the long scar that covers one of the man’s eyes that stretches from his hairline to the upper crest of his cheek. Katsuki has been part of the Underside his whole life and he knows a predator when he sees him. It’s with a fearful shiver that he also knows exactly who this man is…Despite never having met the man in person. He’s only heard rumors and horror stories of Blood Riot. Now he’s regretting his anonymous process of vetting clients through the dark web.
“You make it a habit to make your clients wait?” Blood Riot growls and all of the hair on the back of Katsuki’s neck stands up at the malignant cadence of the words.
Katsuki rolls his shoulders, a subconscious move in response to the fear rolling through him in waves. Katsuki may have a notorious reputation, but compared to that of Blood Riot…he is a small fish in a big fucking ocean. Yet, fear has always provoked Katsuki in strange ways…He refuses to bow to it or any motherfucker that deigns to look down on him. His shoulders square off and he refuses to retreat despite the rapid pounding of his heart. “It’s a big fuckin’ warehouse,” he grits out and crosses his arms.
Riot raises a brow at him, looking sinister as that scar shifts across his features. “You must be Dynamight,” he says shortly, his eyes scanning over Katsuki in a way that feels invasive.
“Yeah,” Katsuki barks, “And you’re Blood Riot. Now that introductions are out of the fuckin’ way, let’s talk business.” Despite his warring instincts screaming at him not to, he turns his back on the devil standing in his doorway and strides back into the hallway.
There’s a low chuckle that sends goosebumps over his natural arm as Riot ducks through the doorway. When he comes to a stop just inside and his head nearly brushes the ceiling, Katsuki realizes that he’s made a grave error in discounting the rumors regarding the gang leader’s size. Riot runs the largest gang in the Underside, known for leaving bloody swaths of bodies behind in their wake as they war for more territory. Riot has his hands in everything…gambling, brothels, illegal mods, weapons, drugs…you name it and there’s a whisper of Riot’s name attached. Katsuki has heard the stories of the man’s behemoth size, but never in a million years had he ever given them any credit, thinking them made up exaggerations. Now, he’s forced to yank himself away from his gawking to slam the door shut and input the code to lock it behind them. It also gives him a moment to take a breath and try to still his quivering nerves. One last payday… he repeats to himself in a soothing mantra.
Without a word, he stalks past Riot, tactfully ignoring the tingles that zip through his skin when their skin brushes together. Heavy boot steps echo off of the metal walls just behind him sounding like old-school gunshots, but Katsuki refuses to show even an iota of fear or weakness as he stomps back into his domain. This is his territory. This is a business transaction. He’s the best at what he does and he knows Riot has the coin to pay for it. There’s no fuckin’ reason for him to cower.
When he reaches his table, he hops up on his stool and swivels to face the towering man behind him. He motions to another stool just across from him with a slightly hysterical realization that the stool looks like doll furniture next to Riot’s hulking frame. “Have a fuckin’ seat if you want,” Katsuki grunts, willing his shoulders to relax now that he’s in his element. He’s done this a thousand times before with men and women that make up people’s worst nightmares. This is no different…
Riot glances at the stool briefly, but then that intense gaze is back on Katsuki. “I’ll stand,” he says lowly.
Katsuki rolls his eyes at the power move. “Suit yourself,” he grunts. “Now, tell me how many proton pistols and beam bows ya need…you got a list of mods and specials, I’m assuming. How many guys am I outfitting?”
Garnet eyes once more rove over Katsuki like he’s being measured up and Katsuki’s skin seems to sizzle with some sort of electric energy that settles heavily between them. “The rumors don’t do you justice,” Riot suddenly murmurs.
Katsuki blinks, but recovers quickly. “Yeah, I’m a bigger asshole in person…” he snarks.
Suddenly, the edges of Riot’s mouth curl into a smirk. “Hmmm, not what I was talking about, pretty boy,” he purrs.
Katsuki shivers at the suggestive current that runs under Riot’s words. He’s thrown back to his conversation with Hitoshi and scowls. He doesn’t have the time or the patience for this… “I ain’t got all night,” Katsuki grits out, trying to steer them back to business.
“Feisty too…” Riot continues, tone almost playful.
“Listen–” Katsuki starts.
“I need armor,” Riot cuts him off.
Katsuki thinks back to the transmission he received for the meeting request. “Not what you said you needed. The transmission–”
Riot clucks his tongue, once again cutting Katsuki off. “That was before I met you and verified the rumors are true. I can get weapons for my guys from anyone, but I want my armor made by you.”
Katsuki likes routine and hates surprises. It’s not uncommon in his dealings for assholes to throw sudden wrenches into his plans, but for some reason this one digs under his skin. Why the sudden change? What the fuck does meeting him have to do with a complete order swap? Fuck it…if it gets him outta here… “It’s gonna cost ya,” Katsuki grits out, scanning over Riot’s form once more. Armor is a hell of a tall order for someone of Riot’s size and build, time consuming and expensive. Katsuki is already running calculations in his head. Absently, he grabs his holopad from the desk next to him and pulls up his body scanner and aims it at Riot.
Riot smirks at him with something close to amusement, “Coin isn’t really an object for what I have in mind,” he rumbles. There’s something double-edged in the words that Katsuki can’t quite parse. He feels like they’re having two separate conversations at the same time, but he can’t be bothered as his working mind starts to take over.
Katsuki has always loved building things (known as a ‘tinker’ in the Underside)... constructing tools, weapons, armor, bioware, and cybernetics out of raw materials. When he’d lost his arm in an explosion during a gang raid a few years back, he’d thought he’d been finished…but in true Katsuki fashion, he got back up and constructed his own new arm…a better one…that could blow away the next threat before it could take more from him. Whenever he’s building something, his mind just sort of takes off into its own little world. Riot has just provided him with a challenge… no better way to go out than to build one last masterpiece before he leaves this worldship behind to start somewhere new. This place holds too many memories and the last time Hitoshi had left…a seed had been planted and Katsuki wants to see it through. He doesn’t plan to quit being a tinker, just wants to build up fresh somewhere new where nobody knows him and he isn’t haunted by the love that he lost.
“Turn to your side,” he grunts out, still holding the holo out in front of him, watching as it pulls in the digital measurements and creates a mockup of Riot’s figure. He watches through the projected image as Riot does what he asks, eyes scanning the data as it generates. Already, his mind is running through potential metals and materials to keep the armor lightweight, durable, and protective while still being flexible enough to adapt to Riot’s movements. Hmmm…maybe some sort of biosynthetic that will mold over like a second skin…he’s only ever created something like it once before and it covers his own skin. His lips tilt upwards at the thought of creating something completely unique this time, instead of his own rough prototype.
“It needs to be able to withstand a helio arc,” Riot states simply, interrupting Katsuki’s train of thought.
His gaze jerks up sharply. “Excuse me?”
Riot’s smirk widens, showing off sharp pointed teeth that glint in the light of Katsuki’s work lamp. “It needs to withstand a helio arc,” he repeats, voice dropped low. Katsuki taps on the mods in his ears to turn them up. He couldn’t have heard that correctly…
A helio arc is the most destructive weapon Katsuki has ever even heard of. He’s never seen one in person…another one of the many myths that float over loose tongues throughout the Underside. This one, however, he knows is real. In all of his years of learning the ins and outs of his craft, he’d stumbled upon the schematics for one in one of his many dives on the dark web. He’d entertained the thought of building one once…but after seeing the capabilities of such a weapon…he’d reconsidered. It’s rare that his morals chime in that he ‘shouldn’t’ do something when a challenge is presented, but in this case his instincts had revolted at the idea of a singular person with the power to destroy all of Underside with one singular shot of a canon that harnesses the heat and volatility of a solar flare from a dying star, cremating anything and everything in the path its wielder determines. The coin needed to even attempt to build one would be unfathomable. Katsuki can’t think of any material viable enough to stand up to the caliber of a weapon like that. Coming across a helio arc is like coming across the hand of god… instant annihilation.
“That’s impossible,” he barks.That menacing grin doesn’t fade in the least bit at his declaration. “What the fuck would you even need that for?! No one on ship has a goddamned helio arc, not even the fuckin’ stuffed aristocrats of Upperside.” He would’ve heard if someone had come into possession of one.
“That’s where you’re wrong, pretty boy,” Riot purrs and takes a step closer to Katsuki.
Katsuki’s brain glosses right over the endearment to the implication that a fucking helio arc is in the hands of someone right here on this very ship. Goosebumps rise over his skin and a cold stone of dread drops into his stomach. “You can’t be serious…” he mutters, breath hitching and brow furrowing, waffling between disbelief and terror in equal measures.
Riot takes another stride forward, putting him directly in front of Katsuki. Katsuki’s neck cranes backwards to look up at the giant of a man, his cybernetic eye zooming in to take in the texture of the jagged scar marring tanned skin and the expression in those eyes that speak of indeterminable violence. A tremble flows through him at Riot’s next words and there’s no dilation of the eye to indicate a lie.
“Turns out that the user of a helio arc can also be affected by the ray when using it,” Riot growls quietly, eyes focused down on Katsuki intently. “I need YOU to build me armor so that I can play with my new toy.”