A/N: it's 2 am. none of us are free from sin

what's better than this, guys being bros,

The hallway was half-lit, LEDs blinking erratically as electricity was being directed from the mercenary (or 'guest', Knight corrected himself) accommodations into the more important aspects of Providence. There were monsters to be disassembled, cages to be kept locked, and food to heat up; the thought of food made his stomach grumble, even if the cafeteria had less dairy products than he would've prefered.

His fist hung hesitant in front of the door; it was a stark-white, utilitarian thing, not yet fitted with the proper electronics to call someone on the comms.

Old-fashioned knocking and talking beat the beeps of comms anyway, in Knight's book.

For once, he felt glad about Providence Headquarters' unfinished state — nobody except the guests would be loitering around this level, and he wanted some private time with a particular mercenary. Nobody would ask why Knight was standing around, in casual clothes, firmly grasping onto a plastic bag like a lifeline when it was dinnertime. Nobody would interrupt.

His knuckles rapped the door, firm and commanding.

Silence.

The hum of LED lights.

Knight bit his lip. Maybe Six was off doing — what did Six do in his spare time anyways? — assassin duties? Did he leave for a better-paying job already?

Staring blankly at the door wasn't giving any answers.

"It's me, Knight," he tried to ignore how his heart felt like it was punching out of his chest, "May I come in?"

Four seconds in and Knight was ready to give up and head to the cafeteria to eat whatever they were serving (not because of his nerves, of course, or that he was procrastinating, it was more of a tactical advance. In the opposite direction. He definitely was not covered in a thin layer of sweat) but the sound of the door sliding slightly snapped him out of his thoughts.

Familiar sunglasses met his eyes — somehow, even though he couldn't see or follow Six's gaze, Knight felt scrutiny across his being. His loose white tank-top and shorts contrasted with Six, who was still in his green combat suit and still had a katana strapped to his back, and now that Knight thought about it, he did look really odd standing in the middle of a barely-lit hallway tightly gripping a plastic bag.

"A poor assassination attempt if I've ever seen one," Six's expression didn't change, but there was a faint undercurrent of amusement. Was that humor? Coming from Six? The door opened fully to reveal Six's immaculately clean room, a wooden training dummy being the only personalization he made, "Yes, you may."

"Thanks."

Knight stepped into his room, air conditioning hitting his bare skin. He felt as though he could breathe again. Guest accommodations were a step better than agent accommodations —

— was that a king-sized bed?

And Knight thought he was lucky by having a bunk bed to himself. Nyquist and Fortier had the 'luck' to share the other one. Maybe Six didn't properly join Providence because he knew which side had the better bedrooms. Sneaky.

"You're allowed to be here, correct?" Six closed the door and turned to Knight, arms crossed, "Your team may need you. I'm just a hired sword."

"Nyquist and Fortier are out on a mission. Rampaging monster out in Texas," he waved his arms dismissively, accidentally shaking the contents of the plastic bag around too, "We —I — have tons of, uh, alone time."

Six paused, slowly screening through the information. It wasn't as if Knight was lying about it — maybe he forgot to mention that he turned down going along because he wanted some time for himself and Six.

"Ah," the answer was apparently deemed as non-suspicious, and Six resumed sitting down onto the bed. Knight felt a sudden bout of self-consciousness rise up, and quickly sat down in a nearby chair, "Any friendly bonding rituals you have in mind?"

A blush threatened to creep onto his cheeks, but he stifled it down with a few coughs. Was Six doing it on purpose? "Well — I have one."

Six nodded, stoic as ever. The katana's sheath slid off of him easily, placed off to the side yet still in his reach — Knight admired how prepared he constantly was.

There was a long pause between the both of them.

"Do you want some tea? I was preparing some right before you came in."

"Sure, thanks," Knight looked off to the side; there was a small space in the curtains, letting the last rays of sunlight in before the sun set completely, "Apologies if I interrupted an important step."

"It's fine."

Another bout of silence. Six got up and headed towards the table next to Knight, motioning for him to come closer.

On the table was…..

Knight couldn't recognize it.

A smaller table with a teapot, a small pitcher, and four tiny bowls? There was a faint aroma of tea in the air. Which tea specifically, Knight also didn't know.

Irrationally, he thought about how he should've read up on Chinese tea culture beforehand.

"I've already cleaned the cups, don't worry," that was not what Knight was worrying about — were those tiny bowls the cups? His hands were huge compared to them, he could probably crush them in one squeeze.

Six picked up the teapot and gracefully poured tea into the cup closest to him, then in the cup closest to Knight (it wasn't green tea, surprisingly. Knight was sure of it. For one, it wasn't green). In another smooth motion, the teapot was set back down onto the smaller table and Six sat into the chair opposite to him.

Knight felt like an elephant trying to do synchronized swimming. His right hand picked up his little bowl-cup and he brought it closer to himself.

He looked at Six for a hint on what to do.

Six's sunglasses seemed to be saying, 'what are you doing? Drink the tea.'

He drank all the tea in one swift gulp.

Six, meanwhile, took a small sip from his own cup and raised a brow at him.

"Thirsty?"

You don't even know half of it, partner.

He pushed the cup towards Six with two of his fingers, accepting another portion of tea.

Knight was acutely aware of his own pounding heartbeat, and the butterflies causing a storm in his stomach. Oh God. Did this count as a first date? If so, he royally screwed up. Maybe all of the monster hunting trips were dates. Maybe the very first time Knight and Six worked together as partners was the first date.

"You only need to use your index and middle finger."

Knight's left hand stopped drumming the table (when did he start drumming the table?). His head shifted upwards with an expression of obvious confusion.

"To say thanks," Six clarified, sensing his uncertainty. Another small sip, "Or you could — nevermind."

At this rate, the awkward pauses between them would outnumber the mutated beasts in the world. The finger drumming started up again.

The light tapping of a teacup being set down. Six sighed, "Look, Knight, I know the activity you had in mind isn't drinking tea together. What do you have in mind?"

The only downside to Six: he was, lightly put, a brick wall.

"It's in the bag."

"Board games? Books? Movies?" Six tilted his head downwards to look at the lumps in the bag, and sighs, "We can't take care of a kitten, Knight. It will mutate."

"No, no, it's not —" no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't meet Six in the eye, "Just look for yourself."

If Six had his sunglasses off, Knight guessed that he would have the most suspicious expression in human history. Right now he just looked faintly angry. Six got up from his chair and reached in, rustling the bag lightly.

He pulled out a bottle of lube.

All things considered, the tamest thing in there.

"Oh."

Six turned the bottle around, reading over it as if to confirm he wasn't imagining its existence.

"Alone time was a euphemism for sexual intercourse, wasn't it."

Knight's laugh was clipped and nervous. "We're partners now, but I was wondering if we could be. Partners."

"Is this because Nyquist and Fortier are gone?"

"What? No — they're in a private and committed relationship and — look, if you don't want to, it's fine. No pressure on you or anything," he wasn't going to admit Nyquist asked if he was interested in a polyamorous relationship with him and Fortier. He refused, of course; they had less than amiable feelings for Six, "I think the Bellwood Cinema is still open?"

"It's not like that. How do I explain this," Six turned away, adjusting his sunglasses and sitting back down into his chair, "I do not have prior experience in that field."

"No shame in being a virgin," Knight paused, but Six didn't reply, "Might not want to mention that to Fortier though—"

"'No prior experience' as in, 'not only have I not partook in that activity, I have zero sexual education'."

That. Sure was some information.

"What kind of education did you have?!"

"One that focused on the important aspects of life."

"Like being a highly-skilled katana-wielding assassin?!"

"Yes."

"I cannot believe you," Knight leaned backwards on his chair, and hysterical laughter bubbled in his throat, "I — oh God, sorry."

Six crossed his arms again. "Look. I didn't pay attention to the boring segments, and after we got older it became both awkward and unnecessary to learn it."

"You at least know how —" how long had it been since he first gave the talk to his son? How long had it been since he left Noah? "— genitals work, right? Vaginas? Penises?"

"I'm an adult."

"That's not an answer, partner."

Even though his sunglasses obscured his eyes, Knight could tell Six wasn't looking at him.

"...mostly."

"I trust you enough. Do you want me to skip puberty?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sure you noticed, when you were younger, that changes were happening to your body. Like more hair. An increased sex drive. Voice cracks. That's because a," what was the gland called? Pterodactyl? Pentagram? This was a disaster, "gland in your body started to release hormones—"

"Knight."

"Moving swiftly forward, sometimes two or more people want to have sex. This can be achieved in many ways, like anal sex and oral sex, just remember to stay safe and use condoms and lubrication —"

"Knight."

"There's also non-penetrative —"

"Is there a word for someone who isn't interested in sex?"

His hands froze, some fingers lifted while he was listing off whatever he remembered.

"Chaste?"

"That's refraining for moral or religious reasons," Six's demeanor changed; the air in the room felt as though it had dropped a few degrees, "I didn't pay attention because I didn't find sex useful, or necessary. I didn't feel a 'sex drive'. I still don't."

Knight's throat felt dry. "Oh," he managed to reply, weakly.

"People are always talking about sex as if it's a huge deal, a huge goal to be reached — Nyquist. Fortier. Callan," the sunglasses were pointed straight at him, and his brows lowered, "You. Is there something wrong with me?"

Sexual orientation. Romantic orientation. Knight remembered reading extensively on the topics, mainly about homosexuality. He skimmed everything else. There was a word, though, wasn't there? It was —

"Asexual. You're on the asexual spectrum."

Six opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out.

There was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Hah," finally, Six spoke. It wasn't a laugh, more of a breathy exhale of relief; a sound usually reserved for moments late at night when you recounted a near death experience, "More people. That's good."

Knight brought his cup to his lips. The tea was cold; he drank it anyways. "Thanks for the tea. And sorry. For bringing up any bad memories or making new ones."

"Apology accepted."

"So, board games?"

"I believe the Bellwood Cinema is still open."