Sunday Morning

There's blood on the floor.

On the edge of the tub.

The sink.

Floating in the water.

Kai's eyes open to stare blandly at the canopy above him. The room is dark yet not dark enough. He sits up, careful not to ruffle the sheets and wake Tyson, who's sleeping soundly next to him. Arms twined over a pillow, the blanket around his waist, his bare back turned to Kai.

He turns the lights all the way down and slips out of the room, quietly.

The slightly off beat rhythm of his heart slowing down to normal again as he walks through the suite to the bathroom.

He washes the sex out of his skin methodically, till he's clean again.

Yuriy calls him while he's tugging on his pants. The ringer off, the phone vibrates mutely on the granite counter.

He ignores the call in favour of dressing.

Unfazed by his response or non-response as usual, he video calls him.

Ticking Kai off. He picks up the phone off the counter and answers the call.

Yuriy's face fills the screen. His hair's flying like he's in an open roofed car. "We're on our way."

"You had to video call me?" he asks.

Tala flashes him a smile. "Got your attention, didn't I?" he says. "The Mexican's already on E311. We might be late."

El Chapo wannabe and his friends - the horsemen's bosses - agreed to meet at Hong Kong first. Then they changed locations to Dubai seeking a more "neutral ground". Agreed that meeting at a public place such as a restaurant would be ideal and Kai had let them choose - wanting to show he trusted them and that they were trustworthy in return, but then they changed spots again and said, "Let's meet in a desert. Low risk that way." At 4 am. Currently it was 3:38 am and they were already on the highway from Dubai to Abu Dhabi, the E311, which will take them to the road where they will pull aside at and hold their discussions. "They moved early," Kai muses thoughtfully, buttoning his cuffs. "They're likely planning an ambush."

"What a shame, and we were trying to be friendly," Tala laments.

He cuts the call and exits the suite, pulling the door closed after him. It shuts with a soft snip.

The drive from the Obelisk to the Seven Arab Seasons takes precisely four minutes and fifty six seconds going the speed limit. The boys pull up at the curb of the hotel at exactly four minutes twenty seconds after setting off multiple radars along the way.

Bryan's at the wheel as expected, Tala in the passenger seat. Ian and Sergei in the back.

Bryan sticks a hand in the air to greet Kai as they stop before him. Excited as if they're all going on a merry fucking road trip. And at the end of the trip there is a party.

Tala moves to the back, patting Kai's shoulder as he passes him. He climbs in to the seat beside the other two in the back as Kai occupies the one he just vacated. Bryan peels out of the driveway.

"I don't like these gandons," Tala's saying when they're back on the highway. "They're too wishy washy. They sway like seaweeds on their decisions."

Kai clicks open the glove compartment and takes out his Glock he'd entrusted to Bryan for safekeeping. Bryan's the 'keeper' in their midst. He guards their belongings better than a trained dog.

Ian eyes him from the back as he checks the Glock for bullets. It's fully loaded. He slides the gun into his belt and settles into his seat with more ease.

He doesn't need it, not really. He's plenty lethal without a gun. And there's a good chance this meeting might not escalate to a situation that calls for violence. But he can sense danger better than a hound. The feeling resides deep within his bones. The Mexicans seem hungry for blood. And the fact they've set out early gives more weight to that feeling.

"We'll meet here. We'll meet there," Tala mimics in a weak voice. "We should never have let them choose the place. That was a mistake."

Ian begins snickering. Kai's attention steers to him. "He's carrying a machine gun, Kai," he informs him with muffed thrill in his tone.

Tala curses Ian out.

Ian, despite Tala's annoyance, lifts the weapon from the car floor, set beside their feet, to show Kai.

"Ian, put that down," Sergei warns as Kai reaches over to shove the gun back to the floor before cameras along the road catch sight of the weapon.

"Irresponsible" Bryan sniggers behind the wheel.

"I brought that out just in case," Tala explains. "I don't trust those fucking Mexicans. They probably are planning an ambush and if that is true, we need something heavy to blow their brains out."

"We'll probably be outnumbered," says Kai, backing his decision to bring the gun. They steer off the E311. Going left. Kai checks the time. 03:55 am.

Five more minutes till they arrive at the destination.

This is a two lane road, jarringly empty of traffic, and the streetlights are dimmer and farther apart than on the highway.

They all sense it at the same time, and Kai doesn't even have to warn the others to load up.

They spot the cars from less than half a mile away, the landscape being flat as a board. The expected number of two to three cars is quickly surpassed as they near the meeting location.

Pendejos are already waiting outside, and as Kai counts the number of armed thugs waiting to pounce on them, he's already abandoning negotiation strategies in his head and forming a much more violent plan.

"Greetings!" The bald-headed Mexican man with countless rings on his fingers and serpent tattoos on his skull, who is running the operation welcomes them as they climb down from the vehicle and walk into the midst of ten armed men and half that number of cars. "Greetings! This meeting has been a long time coming!" says the man who resembles the famed drug lord El Chapo much too uncannily. According to Yuriy's sources, the two are not related at all, which is hard to believe since he could have easily passed for him if he had any hair left on his head.

"We come in peace," Kai says, in a last ditch attempt to save this meeting from dissolving into chaos. The man's grin grows wider. He goes by the name 'Gut' and if the name's any indication of his personality and abilities, then he's a man who likes to put on a big show and claim to be capable of more than his capacity. All show and no substance. The type to start a thought and not finish it. He will probably attack, and the fact he brought so many men shows he is looking to intimidate them into submission. He has no balls and no guts. He will run when his men start to die. "We're not here to start a fight," he says, and as he says it his gaze strays to the men standing around them beside open car doors. Gut stands in their centre. "We came here to negotiate and solve the issue at hand."

The Mexican scratches at his jaw with the barrel of the gun. Nodding. Pompous. Nonchalant. "I didn't either," he replies, voice mock-pitched. "I brought all my men to display them like trophies. Same as you're doing with your guns."

Kai holds up his hands. "Go ahead. Unarm us." He senses Tala tense next to him. Uncertain. Not immediately clueing in on his plan.

The man nods and their weapons are stripped from their possession.

This will turn ugly, Kai thinks as his Glock is removed from his belt.

Bryan flexes his jaw as a man with a red and black bandanna tied around his head approaches him.

Seconds later, a scream resounds, blood drips, and the sound of gunshots pierce the air.


"That was a mess," Tala mutters against the mouth of the bottle raised to his lips, watching a goat follow Bryan and a trio of scantily clad girls in circles around the welcoming room of the palatial suite, which is trashed now.

Completely trashed.

He and Kai are in a majlis in the corner, sitting on floor cushions, sides touching as they drink away.

It is 5 a.m.

The sun's starting to peek over the horizon but no windows or curtains are open. They are suspended in an endless night as all the lights in the suite are on and Arabian music blares and alcohol and drugs flow.

Ian's fucking somewhere in the suite. He disappeared with a group of girls in long skirts earlier. Long skirts and no tops.

Kai tucks the cigarette between his lips and takes a long pull as the goat trips in the gauzy shawls scattered on the floor. It's running along the drunk humans playing musical chair.

He extends his leg and his boot nudges a knocked over lamp.

There's some sort of glistening oil spilling out of the device, staining the floor red and orange, and it reminds him of all the petrol they had to use to burn the bodies to ashes.

The man's hair that had tangled in his fingers. The greasiness of the strands, having not been washed in quite some time.

"You remember what Boris used to say?" he asks Yuriy, blowing smoke into the air.

Tala gets a glassy tormented look in his eyes. "I would never forget a word that has come out of that man's mouth. Son of a bitch!" he screams in a sudden moment of rage at some distant memory. Then he moans. "Ah fuck" He looks down at his palm. The wound on his flesh had opened up again in the middle of the fight.

Kai pours vodka on it.

"Fuck you" He hisses, holding his hand.

"'Every event in your life is an experience,'" Kai says to Tala, setting the glass down, reciting Boris' words he recalls from years ago. "'Learn from it.'"

He folds all his fingers, except for the middle one, in response. Flipping him off. His nails reflect the light lining the ceiling. They glow orange. Like fire. Kai had lit the fire earlier.

The flames had flared up as soon as he let the matchstick drop from his hand. Almost licking his face as it curved in front of him. He hadn't flinched. Fire doesn't scare him. He has one too many scars that bear witness to his tolerance for it.

On his palms.

Under the soles of his feet.

Along the backs of his knees.

He knows fire like he knows an old friend. He knows fire as well as he knows Tala. Better than even.

Sergei joins Bryan and the girls, on his way back from the bathroom. After having puked his guts out.

He has a soft heart. He's also the one who took the ashes to the sea in a chopper and spread it all around.

They'd let most of the men go. Let them scurry for their lives after scaring them to the point where they wouldn't mess with them again. But El Chapo wannabe had taken a stray bullet in the crossfire. It had punctured his already rotten lung and he'd bled out on the spot.

Then there was the guy whose throat Bryan had ripped out.

He refills his drink.

Kai clinks his glass to Tala's bottle and they both take a sip at the same time as the goat trips again. And a girl trips over the goat.

Sergei saves the goat from being crushed beneath the girl's weight.

Bryan had nabbed it on the way back, to break some of the tension in the car.

"Is it a lamb?" Tala asks Kai.

"Sheep has lambs. It's a kid."

"Baby of its kind anyway."

"It's a goat kid." He doesn't think he understands.

"Speaking of innocents, how's Bambi?" He turns his head to look at Kai. Slyly. "Have you fucked him?"

Kai doesn't answer right away, taking a slow sip of his drink first. "He's in my bed. Naked. Knocked out."

Tala laughs. Clapping him on the shoulder. Delighted.

"But I didn't fuck him," he says, letting there be no doubt about that. Yuriy's amusement dies.

He stares. "Why?" he asks, tone guarded.

"I don't understand your insecurity. I've done this before with other people. It's never bothered you before."

Tala shifts against the wall. Getting ready to defend himself. "Look, I trust you."

"You know me."

He nods. Point taken. "I know you. It's him I don't trust," he clarifies. "Granger. Something about him...his face, his voice. I don't fucking know, his personality. I don't trust his type of people."

And now Kai has to laugh. "Good people?" he snorts.

"No. Self righteous smug bitches," he gets lively with annoyance. "I want you to fuck that smugness right out of him," he says and he says it so vehemently Kai is momentarily distracted from his internal struggle with the events that unfolded earlier that night and focuses on him.

And what he asked of him.

He watches Tala empty the bottle, thinking of Tyson. "Careful what you wish for, Valkov. Who knows what would replace the smugness if I fuck it out of him?"


Kai returns to Seven Seasons at sunrise to find Tyson still asleep on the bed, his slender form visible through the slight gap in between the drapes.

Kai peels the dirty clothes away from his body. Discarding them in the laundry basket. The white shirt still spotlessly white.

He washes the remainder of the night away from his skin, letting the scalding water cascade down his torso in rivulets.

The acrid smell of burning flesh remains.

He's clean once more when he steps into the comfort of the bedroom. His feet silent on the floor as he covers his shoulders in a starched button down, the pale rays of the sun peeking in through the slit Tyson had unintentionally left in the curtains over the windows last night.

The mattress sinks under his weight when he takes a seat beside him on the bed.

He's sleeping on his tummy. Breathing softly through his mouth.

The hair above his nape is ruffled. The slant of sunlight through the drapes is hitting his face and upper back. Kai runs a hand along his arm. He's warm. And smooth as a petal.

He leans down to press a kiss on his soft cheek. The corner of his mouth. Tyson grunts as he wakes to his touch.

Kai buries his nose in his hair and inhales as he comes to. He smells like berries. Tyson turns around groggily, opening his eyes, raising his arms above him in a stretch.

Kai nudges the blanket away from his body as he does so, letting his hand roam across his ribs, down to his stomach.

"Hi" he greets, when he sees Kai. His eyes two brown twinkling pools of warmth. Kai kisses his mouth before it closes again.

He tastes like honey and sleep.

"Mmm" he hums into him.

"Sleep well?" he asks in a whisper when he pulls away.

"Yeah" Tyson smiles. Bright and happy. Kai kisses his smile.

He climbs into the bed. Over him. Pushing the blanket away.

Tyson wraps all his tawny limbs around him. Warm and snug.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"You"

"Heh" Kai huffs softly. "Spoiled"

"Spo-yill-ed" Tyson sing-songs, tugging his mouth back onto his.


A/N: Since we're falling in love and everything, we need to take a closer look at the person we're falling in love with, don't we?