The room was quiet, lit only by the cold glow of surveillance screens.
Nikolai leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning footage for the fourth time that night. He rewound the exact second Yuji had paused outside the pharmacy. The camera feed caught the man: tall, hood up, hands in his pockets moving just close enough before his team intercepted.
Too clean. Too careful.
Nikolai narrowed his eyes.
"Play back the message," he ordered.
A robotic voice read it aloud from the screen.
Dear, you shouldn't be out alone.
That was it. No signature. No traceable number. Nothing to ping back. Whoever sent it had routed it through at least five encrypted servers.
Even his own team hadn't cracked the trail yet.
"Still no leads?" he asked sharply.
The head of security hesitated. "We're working on it, sir. Whoever this is, they're good. Possibly private-sector black market. Maybe even corporate espionage."
Nikolai exhaled, slow and dangerous. "No one touches what's mine and walks away unburned."
The man on screen had known where Yuji would be. Had timed it to the second. It wasn't random. This was orchestrated.
There were few who could manage that level of precision.
Only three names came to mind.
And one of them… had a habit of playing games.
Nikolai reached for his encrypted line and dialed a number he hadn't touched in years.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then a voice answered, lazy and amused.
"Dragunov. Long time no threaten."
"I don't have time for theatrics, Viktor."
"Oh? But you love theatrics. Especially when it involves a cute little omega."
Nikolai's voice dropped. Cold. Controlled. Dangerous.
"If this is you-"
"It's not," Viktor cut in, sharp now. "I don't touch your property. I'm not suicidal. But I am watching. And if someone's sniffing around your omega, you'd better leash them fast."
The line went dead.
Nikolai stared at the screen a moment longer.
No confirmed ID. No fingerprints. No patterns. Whoever this was, they weren't working alone.
Yuji's collar had GPS, heart rate, temperature. But it had failed to pick up the threat until it was already too late.
And that meant only one thing.
There was a leak.
Somewhere in his own network.
He clenched his jaw, stood slowly.
"Double encryption. Rotate bodyguard shifts. No access to Yuji without my direct approval. And screen all internal comms. Every damn one."
"Yes, sir."
He turned to the last freeze-frame on the screen. A blurry figure, just slipping out of range.
A ghost.
"You want to play this game?" Nikolai murmured. "Fine. Let's play."
___
The sheets were too warm.
Yuji tossed once, then again, brow furrowed as sleep twisted into something stranger.
In the dream, his hands were gripping Nikolai's shoulders, nails digging into skin that burned like fire. Their bodies pressed together, slick and close. Yuji seated on top of him, thighs trembling, sweat clinging to flushed skin.
Nikolai's hands were on his waist. Firm. Possessive. The kind of grip that made Yuji shudder in his sleep.
"Yuji," he whispered. Voice low, wrecked, reverent.
Their bodies moved in sync, hips meeting with every slow, intense roll. Yuji's breath came in gasps. His fingers tangled in Nikolai's damp hair, eyes squeezed shut from the pressure mounting inside him.
He could feel it.
Heat blooming under his skin. Heart racing. The stretch. The fullness.
A whisper near his ear "You were made for this."
Yuji cried out..high, desperate...and everything shattered.
___
He jolted awake.
Panting.
His hand flew to his chest, then his face. Burning hot. His eyes darted to the window, still dark outside. Night.
"Oh my god," he muttered, sitting up fast.
He immediately regretted it.
Something wet.
Very wet.
He flung off the blanket and stared down at his pants in horror.
"…What the f-"
The fabric was damp from his thighs to his lower back.
He touched it.
Yup. Definitely... not sweat.
"NO.no...no...no..naii.."
Yuji scrambled off the bed, looking around as if someone might've seen it even though he was alone.
Well… alone except for Fin, who was quietly humming in his corner like the world's most judgmental appliance.
"If you recorded that, I swear I'm uninstalling your update," Yuji muttered, pointing a finger at the fridge.
Fin blinked innocently.
Sobs...now he really wants to cry...
His legs felt like jelly. His lower back ached faintly. And worst of all?
He could still feel the ghost of Nikolai's hands.
That voice. That look.
The way he moved under him.
"Urghhh," Yuji groaned into both palms. "Why the hell was I on top? Why did that feel so ugh -good?!"
He rushed to the bathroom, refusing to look in the mirror.
Stripped off the soaked sweatpants and underwear, tossed them into the sink like they were cursed.
"Okay. Okay. Deep breaths."
He stared at the bathroom tiles. Cold. Safe. Emotionless.
Unlike his damn brain.
"…It's probably stress," he muttered to himself. "Or trauma. Or leftover hormones. Or- whatever. I was almost kidnapped. This is totally normal. It's a trauma response. Yep."
Even he didn't believe that.
___
Later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Yuji curled up on the couch with a cold drink pressed to his cheek.
Fin whirred softly nearby, its LED display blinking in what Yuji could only describe as judgmental silence. The little AI fridge had rolled itself just far enough from its charging dock in the kitchen to watch him sulk from the corner of the living room.
"Don't say anything," Yuji muttered, not looking up. "Or I swear I'll turn off your snack dispenser."
Fin responded with a quiet beep and an exaggerated blink.
Which, honestly, was the only thing keeping Yuji from exploding in shame.
Across the hall, Nikolai's door remained closed.
Yuji sighed.
"…Never telling him."
And definitely, definitely not dreaming about him again.
Hopefully.
___
Nikolai frowned.
He hadn't meant to check.
Really, he hadn't.
But the lingering trace of pheromones in the air: sweet, sharp, and unmistakably Yuji...had reached him the moment he passed the hallway near Yuji's room.
Snow over firewood. With something warmer now. Softer. Wanting.
He paused outside the bedroom door. Didn't enter.
Just stood there. Eyes dark. Expression unreadable.
His fingers curled slightly against the doorframe, then dropped to his side.
Nikolai turned away.
He said nothing. But sleep didn't come easy that night.
Not with that scent still clinging to memory.