* 𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 .

──  multi . cr .

disclaimer under the cut.

" I know you plan on lazing around all day, so … happy birthday. "

in the past, somewhere, he’d read that speaking a lover’s name it was like surrendering it to someone else, a stranger, to whoever might hear it. kaiser disliked the idea of speaking about this — about sae and him. not out of secrecy or shame, none of that. it all boiled down to selfishness, the sort of pettiness that’s embarrassing to say aloud and so, he keeps it all to himself. brows knitted together, curled lips; he examines the bottle handed to him.

his eyes scan the contents - liquid silver, the color of moonlight. when kaiser lifts the bottle up against the light, it almost looks like diamonds spread out on the riverbank.

“birthday, huh?” kaiser scoffs, followed by a click of his tongue. had it been anyone else, he might have thrown the bottle, or squeezed it until it shattered in his palm, the pain a momentary reminder that he, too, was alive. 

instead he sprays some of it around his wrists, places it on the coffee table as he watches sae take a seat beside him on the couch, his body sinking in the cushions. kaiser gives him a wry smile, “to me it looks like you’re trying to mark your territory.”

do you hate it? then give it back., sae’s heavy stare says. kaiser laughs, then. actually laughs.

“sure, sure. i don’t hate the idea. aren’t humans just big, ruthless animals? cologne is classy, and i like the smell, so i’ll allow it.” to resist kindness is equally burdensome as receiving it. the soul grows sick of longing for it, so it teaches itself that its never needed it. kaiser tilts his head back, against his fist, and watches sae for a moment. what exactly makes him so different to the rest?

is it the coldness that comes with arrogance? or is it desire for what’s forbidden? (he wasn’t his, and hadn’t been for a long time)the rational part of him tells him to be quiet, but a more primal, honest part of him brings subtle memories with it: the worn out surface of a football, old paint peeling off brick walls, the sound of sirens coming from afar. 

“you should wear some. that way no one’s going to approach you, either.”

and they’ll know you’re mine.

like the place he’d left behind, the blue lock quarters had a barren quality to them. just utilitarian stuff to shelter them from the elements, the bare necessities provided for them and a number of rooms housing the latest technology in the sports area. it reeked of self-interest, far beyond what the shitty players’ little brains could imagine. 

kaiser sensed it, couldn’t take it off his mind as he couldn’t shake off the hunger that’d been ignited since he saw yoichi’s guileless look beckoning him like a wounded sheep’s cries would call a wolf.

yoichi, the project, ego’s design - all of it had come together to create the perfect trap, and kaiser hadn’t felt so desperate and directionless since he’d been a child. yoichi’s teeth sinking into his flesh yank him out of his thoughts, a hiss follows after and his fist lands heavy against yoichi’s face. his wounded hand - the one that yoichi bit down soon as kaiser grabbed his jaw - curled and uncurled on its own volition, as if testing the extent of the damage. 

“you piece of shit…” kaiser moved forward, not waiting for yoichi to gain his senses back. shirt on a fist, kaiser brings him closer in, until they’re face to face. “what do you think you are? keep acting like a fucking animal, if you want to be collared that much.”

a bead of sweat ran down yoichi’s temple and lower, across the column of his neck. kaiser made no effort to hide the way his eyes followed it. yoichi didn’t shy away from the brazen look, nor did he make any attempt to cross the bridge that’d been laid out and open for him. 

it’d always been simpler to speak with his fists than using his mouth, and to be faced with this sort of provocation channeled back to him made something in his blood boil like hot charcoal. kaiser’s voice turned sour, and deeper, “untamed beasts like you are better off used for hunting. how about you behave like a proper one and wait for my bullet, shitty yoichi.”

of his first impression, there was little to tell. hands balled up into fists, gritted teeth and a flame in his chest that burnt a little too hot, kaiser had stepped into the bastard munchen’s main offices and took stock of the man who now held his leash. ray dark, on paper.

on the field, noel noa cast a shadow over the players, the type of darkness that swallows anything up like black sea of ink. kaiser learned to navigate his way through the ranks, and of noel noa he barely heard a thing that wasn’t related to his selfish whims. but who’s to say what true selfishness is, in a world full of hungry football-brained men?

kaiser’s voice rumbled in his throat, a low hum as his left hand flew to thread through his hair. “a coach? hardly.” he scoffed. “the professional lines are filled to the brim with idealistic bastards who think they can change the world with their plays, so it’s common to see them discarded like old sheets if they don’t make the cut.”

“who do you think makes the assessment?” kaiser made a pause, for the theatrics of it, in part, and because he wanted to gauge xia fei’s reaction. his face, like an open book, had become a source of amusement. honesty, on the stage he stood, was rare, so he’d been inevitably drawn to xia fei’s transparent hues. “i wouldn’t call him a coach, but an executioner. and he does a damn good job at slicing throats.”

“did you know? there’s a special place in hell for thieves.” the words drift as an afterthought, so subdued that kaiser hardly notices the sound of his own voice as it eases through the quiet, interrupted only by the shift of rin’s weight on the cushions. his eyes have a question in them, his frown sending a clear message of displeasement at the topic.

what’s it to me? it reads.

kaiser’s laugh rumbles hollow in his chest. the thought had been nagging at him, these days, worming its way into the corner of his mind despite how often he told himself he didn’t give a shit about the past anymore. if only that were true. but it wasn’t, so the thought became more than just a thought. he resumes, “...a pit, more like. the pit is full to the brim with hungry snakes.”

he knew he’d already had three beers too many, or a little more than that, he can’t tell. empty cans rest sprawled on the floor, the coffee table, a last one between his fingers, its surface crooked and bent like paper. kaiser relishes in the weight of it as it crumbled beneath his palm. it gave out easy, with quick, dry snaps. his other hans remains perfectly still, cupping at rin’s adam’s apple, sensing the ripple of bone and cartilage as he swallows.

kaiser watches, quiet, curious, imagining how easy it would be to break him, if he’d wanted. funny how fast everything could change. if he’d wanted.

instead, kaiser’s thumb traces the column of his neck, down to the dip of his collar-bones. “...the snakes will bite their fingers off, or their poison will rot the thieves’ flesh until their limbs turn to ashes, and then all over again...”

at some point, rin’s positioned himself on top of kaiser, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders; kaiser makes a halfhearted attempt to quiet the pounding in his skull with a swig of his drink, before his face is wrenched away in a tight grip, his jaw forced open and his mouth, willing to take anything that rin gives him. rin’s spit pools somewhere in his mouth, mixing itself with kaiser’s own.

when he finally regains enough sense to realize the position they were in, kaiser finds that he can barely move. rin’s hands pin him down by the shoulders, deeper into the couch’s pillows. he could feel it - the faint warmth of rin’s skin beneath his fingertips, his body pressed taut against kaiser’s own.

“i thought you said we weren’t doing this again.”