Chapter Text
“See you tomorrow Togami!” Aoi cheered as she collected her belongings and exited the office. Sakura was close behind her, as usual. “Have a good night. Don’t overwork yourself, ok?” Aoi chirped on her way out the door.
“Mhm.”
As soon as the door clicked closed, Byakuya opened the security camera tab on his computer to watch them exit the compound. The directors were always the last to leave, as per security protocol. The compound doors shut behind them, and the locking mechanism beeped in confirmation. Stillness washed over him.
He was alone in the compound again. He had fallen into the habit of staying the nights here as the epidemic started getting more severe. There was no time to go home anymore. That's what he told himself.
He clicked through the other cameras to make sure there was no employees waiting around. There was no one. He switched to the containment feed list to make sure nothing was out of place. He hesitated for a moment. This is my job. He took a deep breath and clicked through the feeds until he landed on Kuzuryuu’s cell. His finger froze. His previous co-director was pushed back up against the farthest corner of the cell in the fetal position. His food was untouched, and though it the grainy video made it difficult to make out, he looked to be shaking.
Something tightened in Byakuya’s chest. He clenched his jaw, and closed his eyes. He had been avoiding this. There had been empty space in his day and he knew why, but didn’t want to acknowledge it. They were always the last ones to leave the compound together. Maybe that's why he stayed. Byakuya slammed his fist onto his desk, making various supplies jump. Pushing away from his desk in frustration, he stood up suddenly and walked into the break room adjacent to the observatory. He opened the cabinets, digging around for food he could take to Fuyuhiko. Come on.. All these idiots like to do is eat instead of get actual work done, there must be something here I can use. A small sandwich left had been left untouched in the fridge labelled with a green sticky note. He picked it up, examining the paper. It had “Sonia” scribbled across it in a loopy handwriting. This will do. Byakuya snatched the post-it off the sandwich, throwing it into the garbage as he pushed open the door headed to the cell blocks.
As he approached the cell he knew Fuyuhiko was in, his pace slowed, and he quieted his footsteps. This… wasn’t okay. This wasn't following procedure. Containment protocol existed for a reason; a very good one too. He was risking contaminating himself for this, potentially giving up his seat of co-director like Kuzuryuu had been forced to. The thought churned his stomach, thinking of the compromised state he would be in. He had thought several times about how the “disease” would affect him- but he always traded the thought for something more productive before he could reach a conclusion. But now, face to face with the heavy metal of the barricade between him and the disease, he found it harder to push the hypothetical away. But he needed to do this. For Kuzuryuu.
He came very close to the door and stopped for a moment before speaking, the sound of his hesitation deafening. He swallowed, and against his better judgement, he spoke. “Kuzuryuu?”
For a few moments, there was only the sound of soft shuffling on the concrete floor. Byakuya hadn’t noticed it before, but the compound got quiet at night. The high whine of the overhead fluorescent lights was starting to make him feel anxious against the anticipation of a response. He swallowed, readying himself to call out again before he was interrupted by muffled whining and a sharp rap against the metal door.
Byakuya’s pulse pounded. He knew logically that Fuyuhiko wasn’t dead, that he didn’t just vanish in the time it took to get a sandwich and come down to the containment area. He knew. But somewhere beneath the feeling of hesitation and inappropriate nature of this little expedition, he was just relieved that his partner still responded to his voice. That this was still, in fact, Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I brought you food. I don’t blame you for not wanting to eat the specimen meals.”
Of course, he could never bring himself to think of Fuyuhiko as just a specimen. It was too demeaning. He especially hated the ‘SCP11037-037’ label on his cell door. It ignored all the history, the connections that they shared. All the information they shared. All the missions they shared. All the hotel rooms they shared. All the mornings they shared. His breath hitched. Enough, he thought. This was for food. Nothing else. He put the sandwich into the secure transfer chamber, closed his side, and waited.
Eventually, after some more shuffling, a hand opened the other side of the transfer chamber. He knew that was definitely Fuyuhiko’s hand. His hands were characteristically rough and scarred, much more weathered than his own. Byakuya felt his chest tighten. He didn’t realize how easily he could recognize that hand. It placed itself inside the transfer chamber, quite not touching the food. It was waiting for something. “I don’t have anything else for you, Kuzuryuu.” He said. In return, Byakuya heard the most needy, most pathetic mewling he could possibly imagine. It hurt, coming from such a usually strong-willed individual. He knew full well what Fuyuhiko’s despair was, but he was trying his best to ignore it. Thinking about it made him feel… strange. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore as the hand starting getting impatient. It started weakly pawing at Byakuya’s side of the chamber, trying desperately to gain access to him- He’s probably just trying to get out, that makes the most sense, Byakuya corrected.
He hesitated briefly, before moving to open the door, undoubtedly another fault in protocol. His heart rate spiked as he opened his side of the chamber and offered his own hand, a small twinge of fear darting through his chest. What if this isn’t what he wanted? This is stupid. Why am I doing this? This is out of place. I am- the other hand gently grasped his own. It was sickly pale, and so cold. Fuyuhiko weakly interlaced their fingers together, and Byakuya allowed it. A strange feeling overwhelmed him. Something he couldn’t explain. Something he was completely inexperienced in. Something he didn’t understand. He pulled away quickly in one frantic motion, and quickly got up and closed the chamber. He watched as Fuyuhiko felt the warmth of Byakuya’s hand leave his skin, and let out a long, pained whine. He pulled his hand back into his cell, and clutched it hard to his chest, seemingly trying to comfort himself. A shiver wracked his body and he let out another loud whimper.
Byakuya unlocked the door with his ID again and reached for the handle, his heavy breathing stuttering as his hand met the cool metal. This was a massive containment breach. God damnit. He trained all his life to have more discipline, to fight urges like this. No, this is just to stop the disease from expediting. The foundation couldn’t lose another high-ranking member, it would be a critical blow to the structure of this branch. He created this mess, it was his responsibility to fix it. He opened the door and slipped inside, not sure he was fully prepared for what awaited him inside.
Fuyuhiko was curled in on himself against the wall closest to the transfer chamber. His head shot up as the door to the cell squeaked under its own weight, eyes wide and full of terror. Byakuya matched his gaze, looking down at Fuyuhiko. Why was he afraid? He felt a pang of guilt in his chest. The look on his partner’s face was… humiliating. He forced his eyes away from the sight, turning and walking back to the transfer chamber. He opened the cell side of the chamber, retrieved the sandwich he brought, and closed it again.
As he turned back to the almost empty room, he stood awkwardly for a few moments, unsure of what to do with himself. Eventually, he sat down a few feet away from Kuzuryuu. He knew there was no way the small man was going to be able to stand. He looked back at Fuyuhiko, trying to the best of his ability to make his expression at least relatively soft. Softness wasn’t his strong suit. “Come here. Let me take that thing off your face.” He said, coming across more as a demand than a request. He wasn't really sure which he was going for.
The blond nodded at Byakuya’s words, scooting closer until his full torso laid across Byakuya’s lap. Under his weight, Byakuya jolted at the sudden, heavy contact. Fuyuhiko looked up at Byakuya, pleading with his eyes. He huffed lightly, shivering with what Byakuya could only assume was pleasure, judging by his coworker’s expression.
Byakuya’s head was swimming. Usually, no one would dare to try and be this close to him. They wouldn’t want to be. He was good at making it clear he would prefer other people at about arms length or further. But here was his Co-director, draped over his lap, and looking quite pleased with himself for it. He knew what Fuyuhiko’s disease was, but he really didn’t expect this intense of a reaction. Maybe with Pekoyama, but not him. “That’s not exactly what I meant…” he mumbled, nervousness creeping into his tone.
Hesitantly, Byakuya grabbed his partner’s head and rotated it so that he could access the lock on the back of his head. Gently, he placed a hand on the back of the other man’s neck to steady him. The tenderness of the action didn’t suit him at all.
He took his ID, swiping it against the mechanism in the back and released the bit from his head, the metal falling to the ground unceremoniously. He had put more effort into keeping his hands steady than he’d like to admit. He watched as Fuyuhiko ran his tongue along his teeth a few times and stretched his jaw, getting used to the feeling of unrestricted movement again. He lingered for a moment before pulling his hands away from his head and neck.
He brought the sandwich close to Fuyuhiko’s mouth. “You have to eat.” Fuyuhiko made eye contact with his coworker, and slowly slid his gaze to the food being offered to him. He took a slow bite.
Several bites in, he lightly placed a hand on Byakuya’s arm. Silently, he took the food out of his partner’s hand, and positioned Byakuya’s arm so that his hand was placed softly in his short hair. His eyes met with Byakuya’s, and he canted his head into his touch, forcing Byakuya’s fingers to run through his grown out buzz cut.
Byakuya squirmed a little under Fuyuhiko’s pleading gaze. He shouldn’t be here. This could get him fired in an instant. So why was he here? He had to look away for a moment to think, and suppress the warm feeling creeping up his neck. It’s just the disease. It’s just the disease. It’s just the disease. Byakuya brought his free hand up to his face to fix his glasses and adjust his hair. Anything to fill the space. This isn’t him. This isn’t how he really feels. He has the infection. The thought felt like lead in his stomach, but he didn’t know why. It was the truth. He took a deep breath, and worked to center himself.
He looked back to his coworker. “I don’t know what you want, Kuzuryuu.” Still, he didn’t move his hand. He didn’t want to speed up the process of the disease. “You should continue to eat. I don’t know when, or if, I will be coming back.” The words left his mouth before he could really think about it. It was the truth, but he didn’t know how Fuyuhiko would respond.
Fuyuhikos face fell quickly. “‘M not hungry.” He said sadly, putting the sandwich down on the ground. He was visibly tenser now than a few moments before, and Byakuya watched as a small shiver traveled down his spine. “Just please don’t leave.” He begged, turning over in Byakuya’s lap and curling into himself so he was faced towards his partners stomach. He reached towards Byakuya’s sides, grabbing the loose fabric of his lab coat. “Please,” he repeated, desperation in his voice.
Byakuya stiffened as he felt Fuyuhiko’s hands curl into his sides. He was sure his coworker could clearly feel his pounding heartbeat from there. Warmth had climbed back up his neck and was spreading all over his face. He knew he looked like a mess. He was glad that Fuyuhiko’s face was buried into his midsection instead of seeing his pathetic display of discomposure.
He couldn't help but think about how close he had grown with his partner after all the years spent on this project. Granted, they hadn’t become best friends or anything, but there was a sense of understanding they shared. The sense that there was no expectations, something he had never really had. A silent acceptance that they never actually articulated, but was there nonetheless. He thought of him as an equal, someone he could even rely on to cover what little blind spots he had. He would never be able to thank Kuzuryuu for this sense of security. He couldn’t. But right now, he thought about placing his forehead on his partner’s temple, encompassing him in his arms, and comforting him in his sickness as replacement-
What the hell is wrong with me? Byakuya exhaled sharply and looked away from the situation under him. It’s the disease. I know that. Why am I thinking this way? He felt the weight in his stomach become unbearable. This was foolish. All of this was meaningless.
“I can’t stay. You know that.” was all he could manage to say. He contracted his hand absentmindedly, pulling his fingers through Fuyuhiko’s hair.
Fuyuhiko's whole body tensed, his grip tightening slightly on the fabric. He let out another pained cry, but made no move to remove himself from his co-worker. Byakuya tried not to wince, knowing the relief of company was likely only going to make the withdrawl that much harder. "I-if you're going to leave," Fuyuhiko panted lightly, trying to catch his breath between the tremors engulfing him periodically. "One more thing?"
This was a pain he seldom felt, and had no idea how to deal with it other than suppressing it. The worse he felt, the more he wanted the other to hold on tighter and insist on him staying. But he knew he couldn't allow that. He looked back to Fuyuhiko. “Yes?” he said tightly, trying despite everything to keep his guard up.
Fuyuhiko sat up slowly, pushing himself off Byakuya's lap, whining at the loss of contact. Shaking lightly, he shifted himself so he was facing his colleague. Cautiously, he moved to push his face into the crook of Byakuya's neck gently. He sighed, seemingly satiated by the skin contact. Burying his face a little deeper, he let out a contented "Warm...", and let another soft sigh ghost across Byakuya's neck.
This was a completely new sensation to Byakuya. The hot breath that touched his skin drove all the discipline he had away. He gripped the back of the other director’s shirt with the hazy intent of pulling him away, but faltered as he felt Fuyuhiko pant lightly at the additional touch. He sat in silence for a few moments, trying to will his resolve back into existence. “I- uh. I shouldn't-” He struggled against the cloud that hung over his judgment. This wasn't something he knew how to resist.
Fuyuhiko moved his body closer, wrapping his arms around Byakuya's shoulders, enabling him nuzzle further into his partner's neck. Byakuya let out a shaky breath. The grip he had on his rational thoughts was slippery at best. His real thoughts were few and far between, and easily pushed aside by something so much stronger. He knew this wasn't a good look for him, a disgusting flustered mess under his coworker. He also knew Fuyuhiko was sick, and he knew it was terrible of him to allow this to happen. I’m taking advantage of him. “This isn’t r-really you…” He stuttered, managing to form a coherent thought. “I have to- I can’t.”
Despite the hesitant tone of his words, he put a small amount of pressure on the other’s back, seemingly inviting him closer.
Fuyuhiko lifted his mouth out of the crook of Byakuya’s neck, but didn't loosen his grip. "But you're so warm… I want you here, with me," he lilted, now shifting to fully settle in Byakuya's lap. "Please, just a little longer," He said with a shiver, before pushing his nose back into Byakuya's now very red collar.
Fuyuhiko's words pulled painfully in Byakuya’s chest. He knew it was the disease talking- Fuyuhiko hadn't even bothered to deny the allegation. He knew he should just push Kuzuryuu away and just stop this right now.
"You know I -" He cleared his throat. "Can't stay." A thought popped into his head. The bit. He knew needed to get that back on. He knew he needed to leave. He released one of his hands from Fuyuhiko's back and picked up the bit, but said nothing.
He saw a flash of fear glint across Fuyuhiko’s eyes as he realized what was happening. "Please," he begged, "I'm sorry." He pushed away from Byakuya weakly, knocking himself out of his lap but not out of reach. The sudden separation left Byakuya reeling for a moment. Having the closeness taken away made him feel a pang of emptiness, but it was a step towards his baseline. The fog in his head started to slowly clear, and his logical sense began to return. His chest hurt. He cleared his throat once again. "I would appreciate if you made this easy for me." He grasped Fuyuhiko's jaw and raised his head so their eyes met, and he had access to his mouth for the bit. Fuyuhiko gasped as Byakuya grabbed him. Perhaps Byakuya’s mind wasn't yet completely clear, but he knew what he needed to do. "If you do, maybe I'll consider coming back sometime." He said decisively.
Fuyuhiko swallowed hard and opened his mouth a bit wider for his coworker, pulling his arms in so his hands rested in tight balls on his own thighs. He said no words, made no sounds, but cooperated through the shivers than ran across his body every so often.
“Good.” Byakuya said tightly. He appreciated the cooperation, but still hated the fact that he had to re-bind his partner. He pushed his thumb into the other’s mouth to widen it enough to fit the bit in. He suppressed a shiver that tried to rip through his body, and felt the goosebumps start to spread as thoughts of a more tender, charged version of this exchange flashed in his mind. Not right now. He couldn’t stay; in fact, he really needed to leave. He secured the bit and stood up shakily.
He made his way to the exit, hesitating for a moment before closing the door. Without looking back, he said, “I’ll be back soon,” trying to hide any hitches in his voice. He hated leaving Kuzuryuu. It was incredibly difficult, but necessary. He scanned his card and exited the cell without another word.
He didn’t realize how hot the cell had become, and how sweaty he was, until he stepped into the cool hallway. He felt the drone of the lights surround him again, the high tone drowning out most of the whimpering coming from inside the cell. He leaned up against the door and put his head in his hands. He didn’t even know how to start unpacking all of that. Why did Kuzuryuu react to his presence like that? Why did he allow any of that to happen? Why did he... enjoy it? Byakuya slid down the door, his legs feeling too weak to keep him up anymore, his thoughts too heavy to keep himself upright.
He decided to stay on the ground for a little while longer.