Chapter Text
Hyperlaser sighed as he clicked the buckles of his railgun case closed and slung it around his shoulder. He was a little disappointed with his subpar performance in today’s phighting matches. He lost all four games and kept flunking shots he could’ve hit when he was a cadet. It wasn’t even that big of a deal to him. What was done was done. He couldn’t change that. But It was all the small inconveniences pilling up on each other that was what made him feel bad.
To put it simply, he was tired. But it seemed like he was always tired these days.
Maybe his exhaustion was noticeable enough to be seen by someone who was looking. Noticeable enough for a certain individual to approach him.
The familiar feeling of someone brushing against his arm takes Hyperlaser out of his thoughts. He doesn’t have to turn his head to know it’s Katana. But he does anyway. His shoulders relax as he regards Katana with a smile he can’t see.
In this moment, Hyperlaser finds himself appreciating the way the light from the winter sunset reflected off of Katana, dusting him in pinks, oranges, and yellows.
After a few heartbeats, Katana breaks the silence of the greeting, “Would you like to have a few drinks at my house later?”
It’s a simple question really. Yet it managed to single-handedly bring up Hyperlaser’s mood.
“Of course.” He agreed, the elevation in his voice showing his gratitude.
Hyperlaser stood on a doorstep in a quiet Thieves den neighborhood. In his hand he clutched a crumpled letter (courtesy of Prince) with Katana’s neat handwriting on it, double-checking that he was in fact at the right house.
After confirming the location, he lifted his fist. A weird sense of euphoria overcame him, as he stood in front of his wooden door, knowing it would take only a simple knock, and he would be met with the one demon who actually cared about him.
A door opening from the left interrupted his thoughts.
Hyperlaser, fist still raised, turned his head to the side.
With wide eyes, Shuriken was blinking at him on the porch of the neighboring house. For a moment, they stood in a painfully uncomfortable silence, staring at each other.
“Hey.” Hyperlaser said.
“Hey.” Shuriken responded.
A few awkward seconds passed.
“Soooo… what brings you to Katana’s house at this hour?” Shuriken asked, squinting at him suspiciously.
“Just sharing a drink.”
“Uh-huh.” Shuriken said, still gazing at Hyperlaser doubtfully.
He’d forgotten the other Thieves den demons were suspicious of Hyperlaser’s relationship with Katana. Their judgement followed him every time he went within five feet of the swordsmen. Especially when it came to someone as naïve as Shuriken. The young demon never looked at Hyperlaser further than his faction.
And here Shuriken was, green eyes fixated on the sniper, arms crossed, and lips thinned into a frown.
Sometimes he regretted his association with Blackrock.
“I’m not here to kill him.” Hyperlaser deadpanned.
Shuriken looked a little surprised by his response but quickly recovered his glare. “You wouldn’t.” Shuriken said, trying to sound intimidating.
The green demon hopped off his porch and disappeared into the night, off to do whatever plans the ninja had. Hyperlaser didn’t want to think about it too hard.
With a sigh he knocked on the door.
A small ’click’ and the demon in question appeared from behind the door, mask tilted down to met his gaze.
“Hello, Hyperlaser.” The swordsmen greeted, his smooth voice already calming Hyperlaser’s nerves.
The first thing Hyperlaser noticed was that Katana’s hair was up, swept in a low bun that’s the right amount of messy and the right amount of perfection. It looks nice , he thinks. So nice that he sort of wishes he knew how to braid hair—he could see it so clearly—Katana sitting in front of him humming quietly while his fingers worked and parted his soft hair methodically.
“That hairstyle looks good on you.” Hyperlaser says, settling the urge to touch Katana’s hair by brushing a loose strand behind his ear.
“I’m glad you like it.” The demon responded, voice warm.
Katana stepped back and Hyperlaser followed him in. The mercenary set his rail gun and black combat boots down by the doorway.
Katana led Hyperlaser into a cozy dimly lit room. It was tastefully decorated. Full of paintings, watercolors of owls and acrylic landscapes. Small wooden sculptures scattered throughout the room, they looked hand carved. One of the statues appeared to look like Shuriken and Vinestaff. Katana spoke of receiving gifts from the two, perhaps this was one of them.
Katana gestured for Hyperlaser to take a seat at a round mahogany table with a booth-like seating around it. Nestled in the center of the table were various liquors made in Thieves den. Hyperlaser vaguely remembered Katana mentioning he wanted Hyperlaser to try some.
Hyperlaser sat down, Katana sitting directly across from him.
“I say it’s been a rough day for you?” Katana asked, grabbing a bottle and pouring Hyperlaser a glass.
“You don’t even know.” Hyperlaser sighed.
Katana chuckled, “Again, sorry for killing you that one time.”
“You don’t need to apologize, I understand. Besides, you’re making it up to me now.”
The ronin slid the drink to the other, a glass full of liquid hazel.
“Try this.”
He pried the helmet up, only enough to uncover his mouth. And Katana turned his head a noticeable amount to the side out of respect. He brought the rim of the glass to his lips and let the liquid pour in—A bitter grainy taste filled his mouth, paired with a hint of something sugary.
Hyperlaser set the drink down and tugged his helmet back into position, fingers lingering on the collar.
“I like it.” He announced, causing Katana to look at him again. “It’s different…but in a good way.” He commented, tapping the edge of the glass.
Katana nodded in agreement. “Say, how’s the Blackrock side of things going for you?”
“Quite nicely, actually. I’ve been getting more time off as of recently.” Hyperlaser said, a small grin forming under his mask as he thought to himself— More breaks meant more time he could spend with Katana.
“What about you? How’s Thieves den been treating you?”
“Very good. Most demons have started to decorate for the winter season. Perhaps, I can show you around the festivities sometime?”
“I’d love to.”
They settled down into a comfortable silence as they occasionally sipped on their drinks. He could feel the affects already starting to hit, the looseness creeping up on him in small waves.
“It’s nice spending time with you outside of the battlefield,” Hyperlaser said, “plus it’s good to see you taking a break. You need it after all. I don’t know anyone as hardworking as you.”
“I’m sure there’s others more diligent than me,” Katana brushed off, “As for breaks I’m usually too busy for those, but I’ll always make time for you.”
“You’re too humble.” Hyperlaser said. Katana merely hummed in response.
The sound of flapping wings interrupted the two’s conversation.
“Oh, Prince is back.” Katana said. He lifted his arm and whistled a short melody.
In a flurry of feathers, a barn owl with a leather harness attached to it perched onto Katana’s outstretched arm.
“So this is the bird who sends me your letters?” Hyperlaser said, studying the barn owl. Prince also appeared to be analyzing Hyperlaser, beady eyes focused on the new guest.
“Yes. He makes for an excellent messenger.” Katana said.
The owl cooed, happy to be complimented.
Hyperlaser snickered. “What a cutie. Where’d you get this little guy anyway?”
“I picked him up on one of my travels. He made good company. I’ve taken good care of him ever since.”
“I can tell.” Hyperlaser said, admiring the pristine feathers of the bird. “Was Prince your first owl?”
“Ah, no. I have past experience working with owls. When I was a small trainee my master entrusted me with the ownership of an owl. It was one of my first responsibilities. I’ve kept up with falconry over the years.” Katana explained.
“I have a pet of my own, although mine isn’t exactly a trained messenger. Her name is Princess. She’s a black cat.”
“You have a cat? That’s oddly fitting.” Katana mused. “When did you get her?”
“Yeah, got her a few months ago as compensation for a job. The guy was surprised I actually accepted the offer. She likes to sleep on me, gets fur all over my clothes.”
“I find the occasional feather every now and then.” Katana added.
Prince lifted his wings and soared out of sight, leaving a single white feather swaying in the air.
“Anddd there he goes.” Hyperlaser said.
“You know, when I was on my way here I ran into Shuriken,” Hyperlaser leaned back into his seat, “‘thought I was gonna kill you. I swear—that kid hates me.”
“Does he make you uncomfortable? I can talk to him if—“
“No no it’s fine. It just—makes me wonder how demons view us.”
“Ah…”
The conversation simmers down once more, leaving a shared silence—though an uncertainty lingered through the peaceful atmosphere.
It is Katana who breaks the silence.
“Did you mean what you said earlier?” The ronin asked abruptly.
Hyperlaser blinked in confusion. “What?”
“You said that you wouldn’t mind listening to my problems.” Katana said, turning to face Hyperlaser.
Something clicked through Hyperlaser’s head as he realized what this was about. He straightened out of his relaxed position, focusing all his attention on Katana.
Katana was opening up to him. Katana trusted him.
He wanted Katana to be more open about his struggles. The swordsmen’s excuse of ‘not wanting others to have the weight of his burdens on them’ was hauntingly familiar. It sounded exactly like the mentality Blackrock had forced into him—To never show any weakness, bury it all up to the point you forget you ever had any faults to begin with.
Hyperlaser wasn’t going to let Katana go down the same path.
“I meant it.” Hyperlaser reassured. “You can tell me anything.”
“If it’s fine with you…then I have no reason to hold back.” Katana said.
“I want to talk about my face…it’s always haunted me,” he sighed, “ and I feel like you’re the only demon I know that I can share this pain with.”
Hyperlaser understood immediately. The main factor that drew him to Katana when they first met was his mask. He had wondered if they shared a mutual misery. It was only until later that he learned his suspicions were true. A part of him had been waiting for this moment—To finally share all the pent up agony—all the nights he spent desperately trying to recognize the face in the mirror.
“I understand. Tell me everything.”
“The problem is rooted in my childhood. I didn’t have the best life back then. I grew up thinking I was a monster. So I vowed I would cleanse the corruption off my soul and take a new identity; I put on the mask.”
His fingers thrummed against the table nervously. The soldier’s body language becoming increasingly more strained with each passing moment.
Hyperlaser put his hand over Katana’s to give a small reassurance. The movement quickly stopped so the ronin could better feel his touch.
“I thought if I concealed the pain, nobody will know I’m hurting, not even myself.” Katana looked at his reflection in his drink, his carved mask offering no emotion. “I can’t bear to let people see the scars underneath.”
Katana slid their fingers together, searching for focus through Hyperlaser.
“It’s been twenty years since my vow, and yet…there’s a deep sense of unfulfillment in my soul—An ache I have yet to nurse.”
“Maybe I could…rid that ache.” Hyperlaser said, slowly, the words dripping out like thick honey.
“I—“ Katana faltered, “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” Katana said, sounding… intrigued? Disturbed? Flustered? [Fuck— he didn’t know] by the implications of the message.
A sense of fear thrummed through Hyperlaser as he thought of voicing his answer.
For as long as they knew each other, they knew their masks. They shared the barrier. The blacked-out glass and carved wood serving no other purpose but to lock others out and to keep yourself in. Hyperlaser hated face coverings for the same reason he used them. But when he met Katana, it backfired. The soldier twisting an already bad understanding of emotions to an incomprehensible mess.
Katana made him nervous…. And maybe it was the thrill of figuring him out that made it all so intriguing.
Yet he so shamefully wanted to see Katana’s face, however selfish it should be. Hyperlaser didn’t understand the intricacy of Katana’s emotions towards the mask, but when he spoke of it it sounded like pain and anything remotely related to bringing Katana pain should, in Hyperlaser’s mind, be completely eradicated.
He could imagine it so perfectly—gloved hands reaching out to untie the knot, to pull out the anchor.
No—His solution was too…intimate.
Maybe he wanted to be intimate
He couldn’t say that… couldn’t ask that…
Could he?
But the impulses of intoxication bit at him, or maybe it was his own mind begging him to just say it. And the opportunity presented itself and his tongue was sore from all the biting back so Hyperlaser finally spit out the mushy words he so desperately wanted to say.
“If your mask is holding you back… I think you should let it go.” Hyperlaser paused, staring into the painted black eyes of Katana’s mask. “I think you should show me your face.”
A long drawn pause of silence held over the two. Where Hyperlaser only heard his own hasty breathing and only felt warm blood rushing to his ears.
Hyperlaser studied every paint stroke of the tilted mask, every chip in the wood, searching— praying for anything that would clue him into how the other was currently feeling.
The mask stayed ever so silent.
But Hyperlaser did notice the slightest movement, the way Katana tensed up, muscle and clothing folds creased into an arch. Hyperlaser quietly panicked, wondering if he crossed a boundary, been too bold.
Katana looked up from their partially intertwined hands. “Are you sure? I’m not the prettiest thing under there.” Katana whispered, full of concern.
Hyperlaser sagged in relief, he hadn’t overstepped. Still, he hated hearing Katana sound so upset.
“Yes. I promise.” Hyperlaser said. He’d never been so sure about something in his life.
Hyperlaser’s breath hitched as Katana’s calloused hands reached behind his head and slowly undid the knot.
The cypress mask slipped, making a soft clank when Katana set it on the table. And Hyperlaser stared, savoring each second he saw Katana’s face.
Various cuts and burns were scattered around his face. A large scar cut around the bridge of his nose and part of his cheek, curving into a crescent. His eyes seemed to have a certain fire to them, flickering like an eternal flame. He held a small weakened smile as he waited for Hyperlaser’s judgement.
Hyperlaser’s heart swelled. He wanted to bottle up this moment, forever remember what is was like to have Katana sitting before him in a grand display of trust. Hyperlaser couldn’t even begin to explain it; being allowed to view Katana’s face, his deepest insecurity, what he hated most.
The one thing holding him back.
And as Katana stared at him, his shame all too visible, it made Hyperlaser’s heart wrench.
“Oh Katana…” Hyperlaser whispered fondly. “How could you hate something so precious?”
He reached foward, thumb tenderly tracing Katana’s face. He wanted to memorize every scar, every feature, every little detail.
Katana settled into the touch, composure slipping. His eyes were watering. He looked like he was about to cry.
“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, you’d know how special you are.”
A few tears slipped out, trailing down Katana’s face, running over his scars.
Hyperlaser carefully brushed each tear off of his cheeks.
With the safety of their current environment, an idea thrummed through the assassin’s head.
If Katana was comfortable enough, trusted him enough, to reveal his face even though there was a chance Hyperlaser might reject him; shouldn’t Hyperlaser be fine taking the same risk?
“You can—um you can,” Hyperlaser felt his face get hot as he spoke, “You can take off my mask.”
Katana looked at the sniper in surprise “You’d let me?”
“Yeah,” Hyperlaser’s breath shook, “I would.”
Carefully, Katana put his fingers on the base of the helmet. One small tug and the helmet would come off, completing exposing his—
“Wait—“ Hyperlaser panicked, right as Katana started to pull at the helmet.
Katana’s hands flinched, fingers hovering above Hyperlaser’s neck.
“Apologies. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable—“ Katana started, frantically.
“No-you’re fine,” Hyperlaser interrupted, “I…want to warn you. Before you take off my helmet, I don’t—I don’t have horns.” Hyperlaser confessed.
“Just— be prepared .” Hyperlaser bit out, shame burning the back of his neck.
Katana’s expression softened. “Hyperlaser, I’ve known for you for too longer to give a shit about something like that, broken horns mean nothing to me.” He reassured.
Hyperlaser’s heart lurched at how genuine Katana sounded. His stress now replaced with kindness. “Alright...you can take it off now.” He managed to say.
Katana’s hand returned to the helmet and with one small pull Hyperlaser’s insecurities were out for Katana to see.
Leaving a jagged mark of broken bone—maimed horns.
Katana carefully set his helmet on to the table. Mirroring Hyperlaser’s previous moments, he reached out to touch him and lovingly caressed his cheek.
Hyperlaser’s heart beat fast, all senses overwhelmed by Katana: Calloused fingers brushing his scar, rough hands on rougher skin, so focused on Katana’s form he could see nothing but the red of his eyes, breathing in the scent of earth and cinnamon, a bubbling aftertaste of burning liquor rested on his tongue.
It felt like paradise.
Now with his mask off, he felt ready to share his past with Katana. “This….whole thing was a freak accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s all it is…I was in the med bay for a while but I don’t think I ever truly recovered.“
“I like you the way you are, scars and all.” Katana said.
The corners of Hyperlaser’s mouth turned up, expression shifting into a small smile.
It was the first time he’d ever seen the mercenary smile.
He prayed it wouldn’t be the last.
Hyperlaser, still smiling, murmurs, “I remember when we first met. You complimented my aim and I was too intimidated by you to do anything else but nod.”
Katana’s eyes crinkle in amusement. “You? were intimidated… By me?”
“You can’t blame me. With your strength and height? You towered over me…made me feel nervous.”
“There was something about you that’s made me stay.” Hyperlaser paused before adding in a much softer and sincere voice, “I’m glad I met you.”
“…I’m glad I met you too.”
Hyperlaser squinted through his railgun. Though he wasn’t really focusing on sniping, the excited yells of phighters blurring into the background as his thoughts consumed him. Ever since that night his mind never stopped retracing those moments he spent settled next to Katana; earthy fragrances and alcohol blended together as they discussed their pasts. By now he’d overthought every single thing Katana said, dissecting them, trying to find a hidden truth that would reveal more about Katana to him.
And he did learn more about Katana that night, just as Katana learned more about him.
In fact, Katana had seen it all. The battered flesh that wound up his jaw, his sharpened claws and piercing teeth, eyes full of violence, twin tufts of shattered horn; all of his features flaunting off the cruelty that had hardened his heart.
He still cared for Hyperlaser the same. Touched his wounds like they were the softest thing. Drunkly murmured a thousand compliments.
For Blackrock, to be this bare would be considered a violation of company policy. Blackrock operatives did not express emotion, and they certainly weren’t fraternizing with the enemy over a few beers. To do that would be idiotic, an insult to the faction’s reputation.
Hyperlaser never felt better , he decided.
The newfound affection he had for the soldier was a bit foreign, but he was committed to embracing it. With the tension of hiding their true selves from each other gone, he felt more connected to Katana. Like an invisible string tied them together, pulling them closer and closer.
And it was partially true, Hyperlaser found himself lingering a little closer to Katana, arms brushing every time they talked.
There were improvements with Shuriken and Slingshot. The judging glances stopped and Hyperlaser was able to hold some sort of a conversation with Shuriken.
As clingy as it sounded, he longed to be around Katana like that again.
In the phights their conversations were kept short and brief, lacking the emotional connection Hyperlaser wanted them to have. The small talk teased him, appearing as a pathetic echo of the relationship they had.
He wanted it so badly he couldn’t help fantasize how their next close meeting would play out. They’d whisper their secrets and sins, exposing every lie they’d ever said. They’d take off their masks and he’d look into those gorgeous maroon eyes that held a sadness he wanted to rip out. Remaining safe and understood.
Fortunately for Hyperlaser, the night did come again. And he found himself, once more, resting in the comfort and privacy of Katana’s home.
A roar of laughter shook over the two, drunkly sharing stories. They were admittedly and absolutely wasted, setting down glass after glass, the night taking a much more playful atmosphere than their previous meeting.
Hyperlaser turned to Katana, who is sitting right beside him with his head propped up on his hand over the table. Hyperlaser could feel other’s gaze on him— which makes him wonder if, under the mask, those dark red eyes are fondly regarding him.
Of course, he’s too drunk to keep his damn mouth shut.
“I would—“ Hyperlaser stuttered, “I would like to see your face again.” The sniper tensed. “I mean—you don’t have to but, uh, I like staring at your eyes.”
“I’ll do whatever you want me to, Hyperlaser.” Katana said, taking his mask off without any hesitation. Scarlet eyes flicked to Hyperlaser, making a warmth grow inside the assassian’s chest.
He returned the gesture by taking his helmet off as well. Hyperlaser still felt awkward with the lack of a helmet around his head but he assured himself that Katana did not judge him by his injuries.
“I am curious though…What’s so special about my eyes?” Katana’s voice broke through the silence.
Hyperlaser took a shaky breath. “Everything. I love the color…I love the way you look at me.” He drowsed. “You’re so perfect Katana. Everything about you is… perfect.”
Hyperlaser didn’t miss the way Katana’s whole body seemed to shudder at the compliment. “I—Thank you.”
Hyperlaser wasn’t fully sure why he was telling Katana this. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe he secretly wanted an excuse to compliment Katana. The words seemed to slip out without as much as a second thought.
Besides, he liked complimenting Katana. The demon deserved someone to stay by his side and support him. It was even better with Katana being maskless. He could see the way his eyes widened with each word, fumbling to form a response, a dusty blush on his face.
Illumnia save him, Hyperlaser adored Katana.
“You…speak so highly of me. Why?”
“Because you deserve it. You….” Hyperlaser trailed off, “deserve it all.” He finished.
Katana smiled, an action that made Hyperlaser’s breath hitch. “You deserve it too.” Katana said, “I could talk for hours about how great you are. How you know how to use a gun better than anyone, how wonderful you are, how much you deserve to just be happy. You’re just as great as you believe I am, if not better.
“Oh um—“ Hyperlaser said. His face was probably red as hell now— is this karma?
“I didn’t know you thought of me…like that.” Hyperlaser said slowly, breath running short.
Katana leaned closer. “But I do think of you like that.”
“How often are you thinking of me?” Hyperlaser said.
“You never fully leave my mind. You’re always nestled in the back of my thoughts. I could never forget you, Hyperlaser, no matter how hard I might try.” Katana said.
They’re faces so close he could smell the sickly sweet scent of alcohol in Katana’s breath. Though that didn’t stop him from leaning in closer and closer—as if they were stuck in a trace.
And before he knew it, their lips were pressed together into a soft gentle kiss. Something Hyperlaser sighed into, not realizing how much he craved for this to happen until now.
Katana pushed forward, deepening the kiss and pressing Hyperlaser into the back of the seat. Hyperlaser ran his fingers through the ronin’s long hair.
It quickly became drunk and sloppy—but fuck it felt so good.
Hyperlaser’s mind was in a spiral. It was exhilarating, every second they spent this close to each other. He knew he’d never forget this moment. Not for a long time.
Katana pulled back, giving the two time to breathe—Shaky breathes as Katana leaned over Hyperlaser, faces still so close.
“Oh the things I would do for you Katana…” Hyperlaser whispered, another compliment that fell loose from his lips due to the impulses of alcohol.
He made eye contact with Katana, staring deeply, wondering what reaction he would get now. His red eyes stared back, crinkling with an emotion he didn’t yet recognize.
Katana pressed another kiss to Hyperlaser’s lips, delicate and sweet. The sniper eased into the warmth.
He could stay like this for awhile —he thinks.