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Asaba Harumasa and Lighter Lorenz have a strictly practical relationship.
It's all contained in one rigid routine. First, Harumasa gets a special mission from the higher-ups at H.A.N.D., one that may require connections, field work, or both. Second, he contacts Lighter for his connections as a mercenary and his prowess as a combatant. Third, Lighter does his job efficiently, whether it be getting him into touch with someone previously unreachable, fighting his way through the Hollows for a data pile, or going undercover with him for intel. Fourth, Harumasa pays him for his hard work, always served with an extra tip and a little teasing remark to close it off.
It's as simple as that. No questions, no grievances, no strings attached. Just pure business, with nothing complicated going on. At least, that's how it's supposed to be.
(Ignore the fact that Harumasa did a background check on Lighter before ever meeting him. Ignore the fact that he tailed him into that alleyway while he was running from Seth, that he confronted him about his past in front of Phaeton to keep him rooted in place lest he reveal more of it, that he lied about a non-existed fugitive he was after to get Lighter to agree to working with him at low stakes.)
Alas, it is but a song, and a dance. It is but a well-practiced, finely tuned performance that they've done countless times before. It is one where Harumasa takes the lead, and one where Lighter effortlessly catches up to the pace he sets. Are they in sync? No, perhaps not, but they are on the same page. They have to be, because the nature of Harumasa's work causes them to toe the line between business and personal quite a lot, with one too many fake dates for undercover missions and one too many chaste kisses to sell the act. They have to be, because every little falsity adds to their reality, because every little intimate act adds to the growing tension between them.
But Lighter always acts so calculated. Controlled, even. As a man with the consistency to keep up the title of the 'Undefeated Champion', he makes his word and keeps it. He keeps the blurred lines of their delicate relationship in mind, wary of the boundary and careful not to overstep it. He is the constant reminder that they are merely client and mercenary.
For Asaba Harumasa and Lighter Lorenz do not seek to move as one, do not seek to intertwine their fates and bind their souls together with the flimsy strings they do have. They do not seek the insipid display of cooperation nor the touching formation of a union despite all the times they've feigned one.
But Harumasa always acts so impulsive. Impetuous, even. As a man with the philosophy to live his life to the fullest and take it all in stride, he makes his promise and breaks it. He plays with the taut strings of their restraint, erasing and redrawing the line at every turn. He is the constant reminder that they could be so much more.
For what is routine but restriction? What is choreography but a cage?
Perhaps that's why Harumasa glances around the corner, and deliberately locks eyes with some nameless stranger to get their attention. Perhaps that's why he lets out a faux gasp of surprise, and presses himself into the wall until he can't physically move backwards anymore. Perhaps that's why he grabs Lighter by his stupid scarf and pulls him close, until he's stepping into his personal space, until he has to put his hand on the wall next to his face to steady himself.
It's all strictly practical.
When he looks up at Lighter, the other man is glaring at him, the heat of his gaze palpable even through the dim of his sunglasses. "Boss. Didn't I tell you that our relationship is professional?"
Harumasa smiles wryly. "Did you, now?"
"I did. And you agreed." The boxer grits his teeth, but makes no move to rectify the clear breach of boundary. "You told me all sorts of things about it, too."
"Did I, now? I'm just so forgetful these days, Lorenz. Care to give me a little reminder?"
"You told me… that you would keep me at arms' length. That you'd keep your distance."
"Oh, the 'arms' length' thing is figurative." The archer lets out a laugh, and it's a mocking little thing. "As for distance… don't tell me you can't handle us being a little close?"
And, oh, Lighter always acts so calculated. Controlled, even. But this doesn't mean he's calm. For if you feed even flickering embers with enough fuel, they, too, can be turned into a blazing inferno. For if you taunt even the gentlest dogs with enough persistence, they, too, can bite.
"Tell me this, then, Mister Executive Officer."
He takes one step forward, and Harumasa tries to take one step back. Except he's already backed himself entirely into the wall, so his heel just meets solid brick and finds that there's no escape. His grip on the other man's scarf loosens and he slowly lets go, but Lighter doesn't. No, because he grabs that errant hand before it can fall from his side and pins it by the wrist with a firm hold.
"Just how close—"
And then, Lighter leans in. Lighter leans in until there is no more space separating them, until the air between is replaced with their warm, mingling breaths, until his lips are but one impulsive decision away.
"—do you want me to be?"
It would be so easy. It would be so easy to close the distance, so easy to meet him in the middle, just like he's done so plenty of times before. It would be so easy to let his hard work come to fruition, to let their mutual feelings be realized, to claim his prize. It would be so, so easy.
But Harumasa doesn't want easy. He wants strictly practical.
So, before the other man can even react, he uses his other hand to flick his throat. The boxer stumbles back, and he uses this opportunity to slide under his retreating arm and put some well-needed distance between them.
"Ack—!" Lighter yelps, rubbing the sore spot. "Ow…"
"You can only come as close as I can say…"
Harumasa rounds the corner, clearing his throat and willing his rapidly beating heart to calm down. He's running his mouth, just as his thoughts are running a mile a minute.
"… and you'll stay put when I tell you to."
He looks over his shoulder and meets the other man's wide eyes, with a smirk on his face as he puts a finger to his lips. He throws in a wink, for good measure.
"Got it, Lorenz?"
And just like that, Lighter stands down. He's blushing and breathing heavily, yes, with a pretty red dusting his cheeks that match the shade of his scarf wonderfully. He's oh-so-winded and reluctant, a small pout on his lips and eyebrows furrowed in frustration. But still, he stands down.
After all, even the most desperate of dogs are still dogs at the end of the day: good, pliant, obedient.
... though, sometimes, Harumasa wishes Lighter was a little more rebellious.
Because Harumasa always pushes, and always pulls back. Because he always teases and tries his luck until one of them reaches a breaking point, but always pulls back before it can turn into more. Because Lighter sometimes pushes, and never pulls back. Because he sometimes succumbs to his own desires and lets his heart take the lead, yet he never chases nor pursues more. And because they're both so stubborn, because they both never escalate even when they both clearly want to…
At the end of the day, that's all their relationship is, and all it ever will be: strictly practical.