1: Careless and Naive

In hindsight, Yuri had been so careless. And naive.

"Yuri…"

What had he been thinking, taking risk after risk after risk? Had he learned nothing from the past? Had he not paid a price worse than death to witness firsthand how arrangements based on lies and concealment always, always crumbled in the end?

"Your face…"

As his mind went blank, the memory of an ancient myth emerged from the depths of his addled consciousness - the legend of Daedalus and Icarus. For defying human and natural law, Daedalus and his only son Icarus were imprisoned on top of the tallest tower in the kingdom, where they were doomed to remain for the rest of their lives. Yearning to escape that fate, Daedalus constructed two pairs of wings from feathers and wax, and having warned Icarus to keep a moderate distance from both the ocean and the sun or they would surely perish, father and son leaped into the air and took to the winds, free at last. However, having become intoxicated by the ecstasy of flight, Icarus ignored Daedalus' warning and soared higher and higher, until the heat of the sun melted his wings and he plummeted to the ocean, where he drowned.

In his hubris, Icarus had merely tempted the sun, and what did Yuri do? He met the sun after work, went on a date with it, and after a modest dinner of fried rice and two drinks, he took the sun to bed, straddled it face to face in nothing but an unbuttoned silk shirt, and fucked it.

"Hey.. you okay?" Kotetsu stared at him in alarm. "Did I do that..?"

"Yuri…!"

It all began ten months ago, when veteran Hero Wild Tiger returned from temporary retirement as a member of the Second League, and by putting his fading powers on valiant display for the sake of following his code of justice, he surpassed Legend in a way radically different from Barnaby Brooks Jr.'s groundbreaking record. Until that moment, Yuri's fascination with Kaburagi Kotetsu did not reach beyond their occasional clashes as Lunatic and Wild Tiger, or his decision as the Administrator of the Heroes to preside over each and every one of Kotetsu's legal cases. (He was the only one qualified to be the arbitrator, Yuri had told himself; nobody else would have been able to judge Wild Tiger's actions as fairly and accurately as he.) However, once Kotetsu humbly acknowledged the decline of his powers, and resumed his career with pride and enthusiasm, Yuri found himself falling head over heels in a conundrum. With the introduction of the Second League, emergencies were divided into major and minor crimes, and murder obviously belonged in the former category, which meant that Wild Tiger would no longer be dispatched to obstruct Lunatic's justice; and since he could only incur so much property damage during a regular chase, Apollon Media decided to curb its legal expenses by settling minor incidents outside of court, so what was a dedicated man like Yuri Petrov to do?

Drawn to the other like Icarus to the sun, or a moth to a flame (ironic, all things considered), Yuri arrived at the only logical conclusion, reached after a long string of sleepless nights. He had to become involved with Kaburagi Kotetsu in a different way, and infiltrate his personal life.

In such pursuits, Yuri had no experience, and a million misgivings to contend with. The only meaningful relationships he had ever had came to an abrupt end at age fourteen, leaving him crippled in more ways than one; but even suppose his history had been spotless, Yuri still couldn't turn a blind eye to how inappropriate it was for the Administrator of the Heroes to engage someone under his professional care, and risk compromising his own judgment. Nevertheless, the moment Yuri accepted he had no choice in the matter, he crushed his own scruples with cold, calculating logic. Lunatic hunted down and executed sinners in order to prove that all he had ever strived for was the punishment of evil, and Yuri Petrov seduced Kaburagi Kotetsu in his office one late spring evening because he desperately wanted to believe he had deserved better than his face branded and his mother broken beyond repair. He once asked Wild Tiger in court if he would accept any sentence handed down to him, and was met with absolute conviction in the fairness of his judgment; now the time had come for Yuri to test his own faith, and submit to Kotetsu with equal grace.

Having acknowledged the dangerous nature of his long term venture, Yuri proceeded with the utmost caution. As soon as Kotetsu agreed to his initial conditions and set foot inside Yuri's personal space, he found himself in a meticulously constructed maze of rules and boundaries. The corridors were tight and narrow, stretching endlessly around the secrets hidden at the core; navigating them required patience and flexibility, but somehow, Kotetsu took it all in stride. Though he could sometimes use a polite reminder or a rebuff, he instinctively understood when apologies were due and retreat was not just preferable, but necessary to keep the peace.

Yuri's rules were simple enough. Kotetsu was not allowed to enter the bathroom while Yuri was inside; if Yuri couldn't come or stay for any reason, Kotetsu didn't pressure him or demand an explanation; and last but not least, he was forbidden to touch Yuri's face. Kotetsu was allowed, even encouraged to play with his hair, and the occasional chaste peck on the lips was welcome, but anything that threatened to ruin Yuri's complexion was out of the question, and if Kotetsu's hands strayed too close for comfort, Yuri caught them and redirected them with a curt smile.

(More often than not, they wound up in his hair and teased him. Ridiculous.)

Kind and considerate as Kotetsu could be, Yuri should have expected he would eventually tear down the maze in true Wild Tiger fashion: in a passionate fit of well-meaning clumsiness. Two weeks ago, when Yuri managed to strain his neck in an effort to stop himself from face planting into the pillow with every thrust of Kotetsu's hips, the culprit suggested they try a different position next time, one that allowed Yuri to move as he pleased, and Kotetsu to see the glow of his flushed face. Having spent a week in a soft neck brace, Yuri saw merit in the idea, and being taller than Kotetsu, he took it for granted that the other would be able to reach no higher than his throat with Yuri straddling his lap, so what could possibly go wrong?

It felt so good, so good. Kotetsu was all hands, grasping, kneading, anchoring him as Yuri's legs hugged his sides, one hand clinging to the back of Kotetsu's neck and the other planted behind himself, clawing at the sheets. With each roll of his hips, Yuri arched backwards just a little more, heat pooling in his core with every buck of Kotetsu's hips. His head lolled, hair unbound, wisps of light swimming in his vision. When he closed his eyes, they burst into sparks.

That drop of darkness was all it took to lose himself. The bed, the room, the house, all of Sternbild, everything vanished except Kotetsu, and now he was everywhere. He throbbed inside Yuri like a second heart; his low growls rumbled in his ears; the slightest touch of his hands could have lit up Yuri like fairy lights but he was gripping him, so close, oh god—!

Kotetsu jolted against him, hard and deep, and that dark world bubbled over and rolled off its hinges. Yuri's legs buckled and he plunged with it, his heart in his throat and heat spilling over him in waves, but those hands caught him and snatched him up before he might have tumbled off the bed. He collapsed into Kotetsu's lap like a ragdoll, nothing but a tangle of limbs and tremors, his head cradled and squeezed in the palms of those strong, wonderful hands, those hands and that mouth…

…all over his face…

"Oi, Yuri..! Earth to Yuri! Oi!" Kotetsu's voice jerked him back into reality, where he now huddled in Kotetsu's lap in nothing but a rumpled silk shirt and the wet mess they had made of themselves.

"Your face got all dark… did I squeeze you too hard?" Kotetsu withdrew his hand in disbelief, and froze when he saw his palm caked with a mixture of concealer and foundation. Yuri brought a trembling hand to his cheek. Instead of velvet, the tips of his fingers traced leather.

"Yuri…" Kotetsu grew pale. "I, uh—"

"I told you never to touch my face," Yuri hissed out the words, "so how could you do this to me?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Kotetsu threw up his hands. "I tried to pull you up and you almost headbutted me so I grabbed you and the rest just kinda happened! I wasn't thinking about it!"

Neither was I, Yuri gritted his teeth. And now he knows.. damn it…!

"I'm leaving," he planted his knees to push himself away, only for Kotetsu to grab his arms and pull him back with greater ease than Yuri would have liked. He blamed his wobbling legs. The bastard had turned them into jello…

"Yuri!"

"Let go of me!" Yuri grabbed his wrists and wrenched them, but Kotetsu endured it.

"Stay for five minutes. Just five minutes! I'm begging you!"

"You have one minute," Yuri sneered at him. If Kotetsu had caught the jab, he ignored it for now.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he gave Yuri's arms a tender squeeze. "Fi— I mean, a friend of mine's obsessed with makeup, so I thought you were like them, but I was wrong. I should have realized it was more than that… I'm sorry."

Yuri stared at him dumbfounded. Kotetsu wilted.

"Man, I feel kinda bad now," he let go with one hand to scratch the back of his head with a low, pained laugh. "What kind of boyfriend am I that I didn't notice..?"

"What would be the point of hiding it if you could notice?" asked Yuri. His words gave Kotetsu an odd sense of déja vu.

"Look, I'm sorry I did that, but whatever you've got under there, you don't have to hide it from me," his hand slipped back and settled on Yuri's shoulder. "It's just some sort of burn, right? That's nothing to be ashamed of! These things can happen!"

Shivers ran down Yuri's spine. Kotetsu sought his eyes, but Yuri couldn't bear to look at him.

"I need to use the bathroom," he twitched to the left, towards safety. Kotetsu released him.

"Hey… Come back when you're done, okay?"

Yuri didn't reply. He staggered out of bed, shambled down the stairs, and in the privacy of Kotetsu's bathroom, he slammed the toilet lid shut and sank down with his marred face buried in his hands. Could he have stopped Kotetsu? With reflexes honed through Lunatic, he could have, should have, but instead he relinquished all control at the apex of his orgasm, and prayed his high endurance makeup would live up to its label.

Which, of course, it didn't. Like everything else, it was no match for the uncrowned king of property damage.

When Yuri could at last will himself to move, he wiped off his face, showered, washed his hair, and with no better options, he wrapped a Kaburagi Wine & Spirits towel around his hips. He steeled himself and turned to the mirror, where his father's handprint glared back at him like a warning sign carved in flesh. DANGER. STOP. DO NOT PROCEED PAST THIS POINT.

Shame and fear swirled in the pit of Yuri's stomach, an oceanic cesspool threatening to erupt. He sank to his knees, opened his briefcase, and dug out his makeup case, but the sight of all that plaster brought no comfort this time. Yuri bit his lip. Was this not what he had wanted, what he had signed up for? He told himself so many times he would submit himself to Kotetsu's judgment (as Yuri Petrov and Yuri Petrov only), so what was he thinking, trying to sweep catalogued evidence under the rug while Kotetsu wasn't looking? What was his hasty retreat and his scavenging for concealer if not an obstruction of justice?

These things can happen!

"Accidents can happen, but that was no accident, was it," his father mocked him in spirit. Yuri pressed a clammy hand to his face.

When the bathroom stopped spinning, he packed his cosmetics away, closed his briefcase, and returned to the mirror, forcing himself to watch as he tousled his hair and combed his fringe over his right cheek. The razed patches on his forehead and nose now peeked out past that veil of hair like a villain hiding behind the curtain.

Hideous. Disgusting.

He will never look at you the same way again.

A sense of fatalistic calm filled Yuri as he twined a thin lock over the left side of his forehead for embellishment, took a deep breath, and reached for the door.

Looking at the balcony, he noted Kotetsu had since turned off the lights - thank god, whichever it was, for small favors. Yuri inhaled, exhaled, and ascended the stairs one measured step at a time, drenched in cold sweat and moonlight. In the corner, Kotetsu lay on fresh sheets in clean boxers, staring at the ceiling. The knot in Yuri's stomach loosened as he snuck over to the bed, curled onto his right side, and buried his cheek in the pillow.

Only once Yuri had stopped moving did Kotetsu turn to him. The way his brow creased in concern told Yuri he was looking at his forehead.

"I told you, you don't have to hide it," said Kotetsu, his tone unbearably tender. "You've seen me, I've got a whole collection of scars! Here, look, look at this," he sat up and leaned over to show off his right shoulder, "I've got a burn too, see?"

I know that! I was the one who gave it to you, Yuri set his jaws. Of all his sins, great and small, he had at least atoned for that.

"I never even thought about hiding these from you, so you don't have to hide yours from me…" mused Kotetsu.

"That's different," Yuri's eyes flashed in helpless anger. "Yours are in places where your clothes will hide them for you. You could put yourself on public display at any time, and no one would ever know."

"That's true… but not always," Kotetsu straightened and leaned against the headboard.

"You wanna hear something funny?" he stole a glance at Yuri. Having secured his attention, Kotetsu tucked his hands behind his head with a smile.

"One time when Bunny and I got real busy, Mr. Lloyds had to schedule a swimsuit photo shoot and an interview at the same time. When we arrived and took our clothes off, the uh, the art director? He immediately gave Bunny a bunch of speedos to try on, and then he took one look at my scars and gave me a wetsuit with sleeves..!" he laughed though his final words.

Pale though he was, Yuri flushed at the thought that even back then, and now more than ever, he would have preferred it the other way round. Did he still have that magazine? It should be in his cabinet, somewhere…

"He was so rude, that guy," Kotetsu was still laughing. "He was like, we're gonna need a longer wetsuit or this ain't gonna sell at all!"

His eyes fell to Yuri in anticipation of some clever remark, but the other remained silent. Kotetsu pushed himself away from the headboard, slipping down the sheets till he lay flat on his back, then paused, glanced over, and rolled to his side, facing Yuri.

"Do these bother you?" he cocked his head towards his burned shoulder.

"Not at all," Yuri shook his head against the pillow.

"Then that doesn't bother me," Kotetsu pointed to the dark prongs on Yuri's forehead. "I get why you want to hide it in public. It's annoying when people stare or talk behind your back. But you don't have to hide it from me anymore."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Yuri.

"Hey…" Kotetsu tried for a smile. "Now that it's out in the open, and you've got no makeup for me to smudge—"

"No," blurted Yuri, his stomach roiling with nerves - or was it butterflies?

"I wasn't even finished..!" whined Kotetsu. Yuri braced himself. "I was gonna say, do you wanna cuddle up? Right on top of me, cheek to cheek."

Yuri averted his eyes. A moment later, so did Kotetsu.

"You need some space, huh?" he rolled onto his back. "Probably time, too. That's okay. We've got all the time and space we need," he closed his eyes. "Night, Yuri."

"Good night, Kotetsu," said Yuri, quiet, regretful.

Unable to sleep, he waited and waited, but Kotetsu didn't move. At length, Yuri held his breath, shifted closer, and reached out to wave a careful hand over the other's face. No response.

At least, none that he could see. As Yuri climbed on top of him, Kotetsu unscrewed one eye to see a waterfall of hair cascading down, but remained still while Yuri draped over him and tucked his head to Kotetsu's shoulder, burn to burn. Kotetsu broke into a grin. He lifted his right hand to run his fingers through Yuri's fringe, but before he might have touched his face, Yuri grabbed his hand and pinned it to the sheets. Their fingers laced together, tight enough to ache. Kotetsu endured this, too.

"Stay for breakfast. I'll make you something nice," he sank his free hand into Yuri's mane, to stroke the back of his head until his grip and breathing softened.

Come dawn, Yuri woke up to a lump in his throat and dread coiling in his gut. He eased off a blissfully unconscious Kotetsu with his breath held and slipped away like a thief, never looking back as he gathered his clothes and hurried downstairs. Within the hour, he left the building like nothing had happened the night before, briefcase in hand, and his appearance immaculate as always.

He walked briskly to his car, left in a parking lot two blocks away, then sat in the driver's seat for what felt like an eternity, his hands clenched over his knees.

All of this should have been mindless routine by now, cemented by over a decade of rigorous practice at home. No matter what Yuri had been doing the night before, and how late he retired to bed, he would rise from his ashes no later than six thirty, and reconfigure himself into a functional human being before anyone might see the tired monster lurking beneath that liquid and powder facade. His morning ritual was the only time administrative paperwork, the execution of sinners, and sex with Kotetsu held equal weight: none of it, no matter how taxing or pleasurable, could entice Yuri to slacken his pace and risk exposure.

Except he had been exposed last night, but where his mother would have screamed at him and thrown the first object within reach at his head, Kotetsu told him it was fine, and held him all night to keep him from falling apart. If he had stayed, the man would have even made him breakfast like the soft-hearted fool he was, but Yuri had never accepted his offer before, nor did he ever plan to… so why did his chest feel so tight?

Too ashamed to run and too scared to stay, Yuri sat in the parking lot for a while longer, and when the scales tipped over to fear, he dug out his keys and started the car.

Six hours and several meetings later, Yuri returned to his office for lunch to find a blue bento on his desk, a post-it note taped to the lid.

You forgot your breakfast!

It was yesterday's leftovers, hidden inside a pale yellow omelet smothered in ketchup.

Yuri never knew poignant metaphors could be so delicious.