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Treated Like a Lover that Lasts One Night

Summary:

Tsukasa “Senjo” Tenma had ended countless lives in his 22 years on Earth.

Once just a humble information collector and repairman, Rui Kamishiro was now not only an aspiring netrunner, but a fixer, following in his now deceased father’s footsteps.

When Senjo returns exhausted from a particularly risky assassination mission, Rui has a surprise for him to reward him for his hard work.

Notes:

Hoo wee it sure has been...2 years since I published a fic, huh? College has kept me very busy and motivation to finish fics has been practically nonexistent, but I've been playing in a cyberpunk TTRPG campaign as CPDB Kasa and it finally inspired me to cook something short and sweet up to get back into the swing of things.

Some names in this fic are lifted from Shadowrun since that's the lore my DM uses. Title is from the official English lyrics for Cyberpunk Dead Boy.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Tsukasa “Senjo” Tenma had ended countless lives in his 22 years on Earth. An ace edgerunner of Ares Corporation, he was born to complete any and every mission they assigned him. Apparently, his “genetic skill set” was especially useful for espionage and assassinations. He was a retriever, by design. Whether it was intel, items, or lives that he was sent to claim, he would accomplish the task swiftly and efficiently. For a wartech corporation, it turned out lives were of the utmost importance. Equipped with his Mandrake, a prototype vibrosword designed to be as lethal as possible, he slayed anyone who posed trouble for the organization.

 

Really, killing the corrupt leader of a foreign country shouldn’t have been that different. A bit more difficult, perhaps, given the scale of the operation, but ultimately the same legwork as ever. Even a fresh change of pace, really, to kill someone who was so obviously morally corrupt. No need to consider the consequences of his death and what might transpire afterwards when it was certainly going to be better in some regard.

 

It was then, during the last leg of the trip away from the crime scene, sitting comfortably in the plush seat of an armored SUV meant for people of stations infinitely higher than his own, that the thought occurred to him. Since when had he ever considered the consequences of his kills in the first place? A mission was a mission, a life taken another reason for his own to go on another day. He lived to work. Lived to serve Ares. The Ares logo permanently branded into his cybernetic left arm was enough proof of that. He knew the weight of his position. Ever try to flee, and he’d be disposed of on the spot. He knew far too many corporate secrets to walk the earth a free man. Not that he would ever desire such a thing, anyway. What could there possibly be to desire in this horribly dreary world?

 

And yet, here he was, an uncomfortable feeling sitting in the pit of his stomach as the neon lights of distant cities blurred by out the window he sat by. The assassination attempt had almost failed, the man’s armor deflecting the bullet violently. A mission, nearly failed. What might happen to him then? He had never considered it before. He had only ever had the time to focus on success, not brood over possibilities. But now, the hypotheticals wouldn’t stop flooding his mind. It was a terrible nuisance, of the highest caliber. Just why was it he couldn’t clear his mind like before?

 

Finally, mercifully, he eventually arrived at his destination: the ever familiar city he had operated in since childhood. He was dropped off at the corporation’s local office, and for just a moment, it felt like any other work day. And then, he was swiftly shown the door. He was still technically fired, after all, even if it was in name only. He wasn’t granted the right to feign normalcy, instead forced to face the strange new reality he found himself in. With nothing but his usual tools, he was on his own again. Well, there was no use delaying. He should at least report in about the mission and assure the others he made it back alright. Borrowing a self-driving scooter from the garage of the company building, he set out across the city, back to where Tetra was left parked.

 

The armored truck was the same as ever when he arrived, bustling with the activities of the ragtag team he had begrudgingly come to align himself with during his “leave of absence.” The confusion of the day turning into a mind-numbing lethargy, he quickly headed to his own quarters to rest. Trudging into the room, he hung his Mangrove on the wall, removed his jacket, and flopped down onto his cot. Perhaps, after the emptiness of sleep, his mind would finally be clear again, and he could resume his duties as necessary. Yes, all he had to do was just….stop thinking…

 

His moment of peace lasted an entire 6 seconds before getting interrupted, the door to the room swinging open and a very familiar voice calling out to him. “Tsukasa-kun~” the young man in his doorway called, his voice sing-song and eager. Did he have absolutely no concept of privacy? Senjo groggily sat up, his weary eyes using what little focus they had left to attempt to bore a hole into his companion’s soul.

 

No dice. The yellow eyes staring back at him remained upturned in a smile. Ugh. There was no defeating this man, was there?

 

Rui Kamishiro. Once just a humble information collector and repairman, in the days since he and Senjo had first met, he had transformed into not only an aspiring netrunner, but a fixer, following in his now deceased father’s footsteps. Armed with a foolish thirst for justice Senjo didn’t think he could ever understand, Rui had sought out to right the wrongs of the megacorporations of the world, one reckless act of defiance at a time. His hopelessly optimistic view of the world was nothing short of daft, but his skills were nothing short of spectacular. Senjo certainly wouldn’t prefer to be in his opposition, not least of all because he’d have to defile such a pretty face.

 

“You’re back!” Rui said, the slits in his face mask lighting up in a neon teal hue with each syllable.

 

“I am.”

 

“I’m so glad you made it back okay! Everything went well with the mission, I take it?” Rui rifled in his pockets as he spoke. “Well, considering the target would up dead and you’re here in one piece, I suppose that’s a given. You’re quite the natural, aren’t you?”

 

“Why are you in my room? I’m trying to sleep.”

 

“Oh, Tsukasa-kun, you wound me!” Rui’s eyes grew downcast, small tears forming in their corners. “I go out of my way to check up on you, to make sure you’re okay, even to praise you, and you treat me so coldly? It’s like I’m not even your friend!” The irritating fixer continued to pout.

 

“You’re not my friend. Now let me rest.” Senjo plopped back down onto his bedding, body turned to the side away from Rui. He buried his face in the crook of his own arm.

 

“Not your friend!? Oh, Tsukasa-kun, you’re so cruel! And here I was going to reward you and everything! But I suppose someone who’s not even my friend wouldn’t be interested in such a thing!” Rui pouted, becoming even more frustratingly petulant.

 

Senjo sighed. “A reward?” he muttered, the words muffled directly into his arm.



Somehow, it seemed Rui still understood him. “That’s right! I had gone out of my way to get it just for you, too...what a shame. I guess I’ll just have to eat it myself.”

 

As Rui spoke, Senjo noticed his heart rate increasing, his beats growing frantic as if in a desperate combat situation. In response, he sat up straight as an arrow, just as he had done so many times in his training and particularly dangerous missions, scanning his surroundings desperately for the source of the threat. But of course, in this case, his eyes instead sought out the prize. With his cybernetic enhancements and elite genes, it took him mere milliseconds to spot it. Held in Rui’s right hand was a jumbo chocolate chip cookie, emanating the tantalizing smells of real wheat and chocolate.

 

A corporate slave since birth, Senjo had eaten the generic soy-based ultra-processed slop common in any sprawl his entire life: all synthetic, all the same core ingredients, all the same bland flavors. It was common for a weapon such as himself, to consume fuel sparingly, and with no prejudice. Eating was an annoying necessity, and not one he or Ares deemed cost-efficient to remove. It had been just a few short months ago, on one fateful encounter in a suspicious arcology, that he had finally come into contact with the magical substance known as “real food.” It had been such a bizarre, alien experience, his taste buds and brain overwhelmed with a pleasure so utterly excessive and depraved it couldn’t possibly be real. He had, of course, panicked. Avoiding such traps was mission critical for every mission, forever. These kinds of terrible, addictive, deceptive experiences could spell the end for his feeble mechanical mind. And yet, after much convincing, Rui had shown him that they were safe to consume. It wasn’t poison, it wasn’t mild-altering, it wasn’t anything. It was just food. And it was amazing.

 

He truly couldn’t get enough of the stuff. His stomach growled at the sight of the delectable morsel in Rui’s hand. What with the assassination and laying low both before and after, he’d had to stick to synthetic food all week. He had never been more ready to break that habit. However, it seemed that Rui was more than happy to hold him back.

 

“Oh? What’s this? Is Tsukasa-kun suddenly interested?” he asked, his eyes crinkling in cruel delight.

 

“The cookie. You said it’s a reward?” Senjo asked.



“Well, it was, before a certain someone went and told me I’m not even his friend….” Rui replied.

 

“Give me the cookie.”

 

“My, what is that? Where are your manners, Tsukasa-kun? You are so unbelievably rude!”

 

Please give me the cookie,” Senjo conceded.

 

“Well, that’s at least a bit better…” Rui admitted. “But still, should I be giving such an expensive gift to someone who’s not my friend?”

 

“I’ll rob another megacorp. That’ll help pay for it, right?” Senjo said, desperation seeping into his usually monotone voice.

 

“Wh-what? Tsukasa-kun, that is not what I meant! I can afford a few cookies, I promise. It was the principle of the matter! We can...we can save the robbing for when they do something especially bad, okay?” Rui looked at him with what Senjo could only interpret as pity. Damn annoying fixer always treating him like a child...

 

“Then I can have it?”

 

“Well, that depends. Are you my friend?” Rui challenged.

 

Senjo sighed. The things this guy made him do…

 

“Yes,” he said. “I’m your friend. Now can I have the cookie?”

 

“Well, I suppose that’s good enough for now. Here you go!”

 

By the time Rui had fully extended his arm, Senjo had already yanked the cookie out of his hand and taken a big bite out of it. His heart raced as he devoured the jumbo sweet, the simple yet rich flavors igniting on his tongue until a warm, comforting feeling spread across his body. He was done in mere moments, having practically inhaled his treat. God, he had needed that so badly…

 

“Fufu~” Rui giggled, his hand reaching over to wipe away the smattering of crumbs left behind on Senjo’s face. Strange. Normally contact of any kind would cause him to flinch, so why was he just standing there like an idiot as Rui touched him? ...Food really was scary. But even more importantly…

 

“Hey! I wasn’t done with those!” Senjo protested.

 

Rui’s eyes widened. “...the crumbs?”

 

“...yes?”

 

He chuckled. “Fufu...wow, you must really like these, hm? I’ll have to make sure to get more for you, next time. Say, Tsukasa-kun, did you enjoy your reward?”

 

What a stupid question. Did he not see Senjo just gobble it down? “Yes. Of course I did.”

 

“Fufu, that’s good to hear.” He reached over to pet Senjo, his fingers coursing through the edgerunner’s golden hair. “Who’s a good assassin?”

 

“...What are you doing?” Senjo asked, perturbed. What was wrong with this guy?

 

“Well...fufu, you see, this is the second part of your reward!” Although his mouth was still covered by his mask, Rui’s smile was obvious.

 

“What is? Getting my hair all messed up?”

 

“No, silly! Come now, don’t try to tell me you don’t like it. I can see you smiling~”

 

What? “...You think I’m….smiling?”

 

“Oh…” The look in Rui’s eyes shifted. More of that irritating pity. “You can’t tell?”

 

“...no?”

 

“Well…” A silence stretched between them for a few moments. Eventually, Rui seemed to give up, the usual sparkle returning to his eyes. “Well, you are now! And it is absolutely adorable!”

 

“Adorable? What are you even…”

 

“Aren’t you a good assassin, Tsukasa-kun? Aren’t you just the most talented killer?” Rui cooed, resuming his head petting with a vengeance. As idiotic and pointless an act as it was, Senjo couldn’t deny the warmth spreading in his chest and on his face. It almost felt half as good as eating. ...Well, maybe more like a quarter.

 

Involuntarily, he let out a “hrrmmmm”, part grumble of annoyance and protest, part sigh of contentment.

 

Rui, of course, had a field day with it. “Fufu, that’s my good edgerunner. That smile suits you, Tsukasa-kun…” He wrapped his free hand around Senjo’s back, dragging him into an impromptu hug.

 

As he stood there, being coddled by Rui like some kind of spoiled infant, it finally occurred to Senjo. Those racing thoughts he had tried so hard to sleep off...they were all gone. In Rui’s arms, his mind was clear again. He couldn’t exactly focus, not like normal, but he was at peace. He liked this feeling. It felt...good.

 

Senjo- no, not just Senjo. Tsukasa was happy, in that moment. What a strange sensation, to feel nothing but happiness…

 

It should have been terrifying. Everything he had known told him that this was the ultimate danger. Years of Ares training lessons had instructed him that this exact scenario was to be avoided at all costs. And yet, he still felt at ease. This was bad. He couldn’t let himself get complacent. That spelled death in this cursed world. And yet…

 

He hadn’t noticed Rui taking off his mask until the fixer’s lips collided with his own. They were soft, oh so soft, almost like clouds. Nothing like his own brittle lips abused by nights staking out in the cold, waiting for the chance to sneak into facilities and homes. Their moisture was tantalizing.

 

When Rui pulled away grinning, it was honestly disappointing.

 

Strangely, when the fixer caught the look in his eyes, he seemed concerned. “Oh...are you okay, Tsukasa-kun? I didn’t mean to-”

 

“Why’d you stop?” Tsukasa asked, still irritated.

 

“Hm?” Rui paused for a few moments, as if analyzing him. Then, he broke into a laugh. “Haha, oh, Tsukasa-kun, you’re so funny! And here I was worried I was moving too fast! ...fufu, you liked my kiss that much, hm?”

 

“Yes. Why’d you stop?”

 

“Oh, Tsukasa-kun…” Rui breathed a sigh and leaned closer. Finally! Tsukasa closed his eyes and prepared himself for the return of that wonderfully enjoyable kiss.

 

Instead, he felt a tongue lapping at his cheek. “...what?”

 

“Fufu, you had some chocolate left on your cheek. I figured I’d clean it up for you…” Rui’s words came out in heavy breaths, filled with something Tsukasa didn’t entirely understand. But more importantly…

 

“You didn’t let me lick it off myself!? But...my chocolate!”

 

 

 

 

Tsukasa hated his annoying fixer. He always treated him like a child, teased him, and never took him seriously. He was stupidly pretty, stupidly kind, and had stupidly soft lips. But with him, his mind was clear.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Please feel free to comment, I always read them and try to respond to them, and they help so much in keeping me motivated!

As for my next fic, it might be a short scene from my personal Kasaverse AU...? Perhaps? Stay tuned 👀