Archive of Our Own

Work, work, work.

It never ends.

But that reality is a comfort to an endlessly ambitious workaholic. For Ibara Seagusa there is always work to be done, always something to be fussed over or improved, always better to be busy than stagnant.

Familiar urban sprawl is rolling by beyond the window of his CosPro corporate town car, but Ibara pays the scenery no mind. His focus is firmly lodged on his phone screen, reviewing the newest influx of business emails.

He's not alone in the backseat, his idol partner and Adam's more glorious half is sharing the bench. Nagisa's presence is… comforting. Safe. Simple. Like a well loved childhood plushie, not that Ibara ever owned one, but he imagines the feelings Nagisa evokes are similar to a naive child's comfort crutch.

Also like an inanimate object, Nagisa is eerily still and silent. That is his default state until otherwise prompted, which is also ideal to facilitate Ibara's work. Most people are inherently disruptive, but not Nagisa Ran.

Ibara spares a glance at the Godly statured stuffie beside him — Nagisa's expression is unreadable, a living puzzle box of a person, but Ibara is experienced in solving him. His posture is at ease. His eyes are slow and calculating, but devoid of strain. He is at peace.

But he does return Ibara's stare when he notices it — then the corner of his flat line of lips curls slightly up.

Ibara reciprocates the affection with an arrogant huff through his nose, and returns his focus to his emails. Though the next message waiting in his inbox sours his pleasant mood. The language is suspiciously stiff, impersonal — robotic?

Valued Customer,

We regret to inform you that our supplier wasn't able to deliver this month's shipment of Egyptian cotton. We will have to proceed with a lower grade material for your order TRACKING ID: #37289B. We appreciate your understanding in this matter.

…

IN-CON-CEIVABLE! Ibara cannot believe that he just received auto-generated slop?! Do those fools have any idea how much exposure they get every time Eden wears their work? And they have the audacity to put him on a mailing list?! Like some middle class consumer?! He hurriedly fires back a reply — directly to the CEO of the company.

To whom it may concern,

Your failure is unacceptable. His Highness has a preference for the highest grade materials, and will not set foot on a stage wearing anything less. Eden will be adorned in only the finest uniforms money can buy — you will accommodate our standards, or we will seek an alternate contract. I assure you, you will regret losing your most valuable customer.

Saegusa Ibara

One issue addressed — but another unpleasant email is right below, this time from Eden's PR rep.

Heads up boss, “that video” of Sazanami Sr. is making the rounds again on Twitter. Thought you should know.

Ibara's glare chills. A new enemy threatens the peace in Eden's garden? Ibara has made many enemies in his turbulent existence — that have now become Eden's enemies by association. Specters from his past seeking to drag his beloved idol unit off their heavenly pedestal and through the mortal mud.

But they won't succeed, Ibara never lets his guard down. He fires back a reply with the efficiency of a general commanding infantry.

Find the IP address of the fool who posted “the video” and pass it on to legal. Anyone who attempts to harm Eden's reputation will be sued into dust for slander. And do not inform Mr. Jun, it will only distract him from his work.

Saegusa

Thankfully, the next email isn't more bad news. It's from the lead photographer at Eden's photoshoot earlier today.

Great work today. Here's the proofs from the shoot. Which one do you want to use for the album cover?

Ibara reviews the attached portfolio of photos, all featuring the Eden idols in a variety of proud and confident poses. He scrolls past one after another, then pauses to admire a photo towards the end.

Eden, in their classic uniforms. Hiyori and Nagisa are side by side, regally poised in black and gold throne-like arm chairs. His Highness and His Excellency, looking appropriately powerful and confident. Jun is leaning an elbow onto the backrest of Hiyori's chair with a coy quirk in his brow. Ibara is hovering behind Nagisa's shoulder with a deferential hand cupped over his heart. All of Eden on an even height level for once, though their seniors still radiate silent superiority.

Ibara concludes this photo is his favorite, but perhaps in matters of subjective aesthetics, he could actually benefit from a second opinion?

“Your Excellency, what do you think of this as the cover for our new album?”

Nagisa uncrosses his legs and shifts his eyes to the photo, but he doesn't comment. After a moment of solemn contemplation, he reaches out to claim the phone for himself.

As always, Ibara permits his partner to do as he pleases.

Nagisa brings the phone to his lap, then pinches and spreads a pair of fingers on the screen to zoom in — cutting Eve out of the frame to center only Adam. Just Ibara and his perplexing partner, their heads leaning towards each other as if drawn by gravity.

Nagisa nods in approval.

“Excellent. I'll approve this shot then!” Ibara plucks his phone from Nagisa's loose clutches and resumes the never ending marathon of electronic mail.

Tap, tap, tap, tap- 

Ibara detects an intense weight lodged on his profile — then an arm loops around the back of his waist.

“Hm?” Apparently his stuffie is stagnant no more. What motive could there be behind this contact? Does he have some need I failed to meet? Hungry? Tired after the photoshoot?

Nagisa's arm snakes around his waist, then drags Ibara's meager form closer until he slots under his arm, and rubs the gentle touch through his clothes.

No. This is simply attention seeking behavior. But there is far too much work to be done. Later. I will dote upon His Excellency properly when the work is done.

(As you may recall, the work is never done)

Nagisa pouts when Ibara resumes typing. He doesn't voice his obvious annoyance, but settles for rubbing a thumb over his hip while spectating the unending march of business from his heavenly height vantage. Ibara's inbox dwindles as the city slips by their tinted windows. He's nearly at the end of the unread messages. Nagisa watches the notification number trickle down until only a few are waiting to be addressed-

Then Ibara's phone rings.

He answers promptly, and whips the speaker to his ear, “Hello, hello~! Ibara Saegusa at your service☆”

The caller brings more welcome good news, a business opportunity — a very promising business opportunity.

Ibara blinks and echoes their offer, “Oh? A request to interview Adam?” Nagisa's eyes narrow to callous slits — but Ibara barrels on, “Not all of Eden?”

…

Ibara's huffs, “Of course Adam are up to the task, how dare you imply otherwise? Who did you say you work for?

…

“Sundered Stars? I've heard of that program.” Ibara scours his memory bank. Sundered Stars is a relatively new late night show, but rapidly gaining popularity for risque tell-alls that gouge sordid details from their guests. Prime air time, solid nationwide exposure, and a popular celebrity host. All in all, an excellent opportunity, one he would be a fool to decline, “An intriguing proposal. When were you planning to have us on the show?”

…

“Tonight?!” Oddly sudden. Lacking in professional decorum, but not a deal breaker, “... Lucky for you, our schedules are open for the rest of the day! Adam graciously accepts your offer,” Ibara seals the meeting with a smarmy grin and nod.

Then he hears a huff from above. Nagisa retracts his arm, folds a grumpy barricade over his chest, and turns his cheek to glare out the window.

Ibara ignores that development, and nods along as the caller passes along the logistic details, “Understood. We'll see you soon☆,” He concludes, then addresses their driver with a flying point, “Ixnay our current course! Take us to this address instead.” He passes on the location for a production studio on the outskirts of the city. The driver affirms his orders, adjusts course, and the corporate car veers towards an on ramp.

But by the time they arrive at a massive parking garage flanking a high brow film studio, Nagisa is still pouting.

Which is unacceptable. That attitude will make for terrible television. Ibara addresses the driver once more, “May we have a moment alone?”

His underling nods into the rearview mirror, then complies; leaving just Adam in the classy black interior car. Ibara studies his partner's disgruntled state, “Your Excellency… I know the photoshoot earlier was draining, but this interview presents a precious opportunity. Adam will benefit greatly from this exposure.”

Nagisa uses a hooked pointer finger to toss half of his flowing mane over his shoulder, “... I trust your judgment, Ibara. I know you wouldn't make me do anything that isn't vital for our success. I will comply.”

Compliance does not equate to the excellence I know you are capable of. Ibara hardens, “Then why are you still pouting like a child? If you bring this current attitude into the interview then it's doomed to be a resounding failure-! AIE?!”

Ibara squeals when he's whisked off the bench mid-lecture. Nagisa easily handles his humble form, Ibara represses his screaming instinct to fight back against being man handled. Once again he allows his pouty partner to do as he pleases.

When the rush stills he finds himself straddling Nagisa's spread thighs with his elbows propped on his shoulders. Firm and familiar hands claim cups of Ibara's miniscule waist as Adam's faces hover only inches apart.

It immediately becomes. Difficult. To remain. Focused. When Ibara finds himself in spontaneous proximity to immaculate divinity. No matter how many times he witnessed this view it is still distracting.

Nagisa's stern smolder and handsome jaw perfectly compliment his mysterious aura. The traits that first drew Ibara to him years ago when they were nothing more than classmates. Ibara's instincts rarely lead him astray, and he was right about their unified potential. Adam has become an exceptional duo, Nagisa has become an exceptional idol, and… more.

The longer Ibara stares the more difficult it becomes to remain professional. His stare sinks into his partner's bottomless and cryptic eyes, but he doesn't manage to decipher their mysteries before Nagisa petulantly lifts his chin and decrees, “... I've had my fill of them for today.”

“Them?”

“... Others. Others who hoard your attention. I was under the impression that you were going to be mine alone this evening. That I wouldn't have to share you with anyone after we finished the photoshoot.”

“I see.” How intriguing. Plushies are rarely bratty, but Ibara's plushie is one of a kind, “You have no reason to envy the mortals, Your Excellency. I am yours.”

Nagisa's eyes flourish with interest.

Ibara grins and pushes his advance, “All the work I do, it’s my tribute to you. It's all for you.” For us, for our glorious growth, “I am all for you-”

Ibara is attempting to disarm his partner's tantrum, but that promise has the opposite effect.

Nagisa knots a fist into his tidy maroon hair and tugs them together. The idols’ lips crash harshly together, Ibara squeaks with shock and his eyes blow wide.

Then the rest fades. Their responsibilities and commitments. Their allies and enemies. Gone. The glorious being Nagisa Ran fiercely kisses him, and for a moment Ibara feels like they're the only entities in the entire universe. Like nothing else matters but this-

Ibara rolls his hips on instinct. Nagisa groans and surrounds his pint sized body in a coiled cage of arms. Tense digging fingers claw into the back of his business attire as if hoping to shred it, then Nagisa pries his mouth apart to deepen the kiss.

Ibara allows him to do as he pleases.

Because nothing else matters.

He never imagined when he first recruited Nagisa that their bond would eventually devolve into… this. The juxtaposed halves of Adam are not the kind of people who are easy to love.

They are both a bit… insane?

But apparently even a heart locked away behind a cage of insanity can still find an insane key to match.

Ibara treats work like warfare, a never ending fight, one battle after another — force of habit. But sharing this with Nagisa is something else. It's a surrender. Surrendering is scary, but Nagisa has taught him that it's ok to stop fighting sometimes, just for a little while, to do this instead.

Everything but them feels far away. Light-years away from meetings and emails and stock prices — a grand distance evident by the heavenly expanse of stars speckled inky night spreading behind Ibara's eyelids.

The heavens? Why am I seeing stars here?

Of course. Those are our heavens. His Excellency’s divinity is staggering this close-

But they are not really cosmic beings, even if they aspire to be.

They are just idols. Beholden to mortal human expectations.

And they are currently carrying on in a way that would ruin their fragile human lives if they were caught.

It's natural to let Nagisa do anything he pleases. Even when it inevitably leads to this. But every time Ibara permits his partner to sate this particular urge it risks everything they've built.

But… nothing else matters?

Nagisa continues to capture Ibara's resistently rigid lips, coalescing until the contacts grow tender together, then reclaiming his mouth to melt it all over again. Slow methodical meetings that make his stomach flutter like some innocent imbecile. The claws scraping rows through his clothes send obvious signals that Nagisa is craving more, and has no intention of stopping-

But the tinted windows don't feel like sufficient cover. Ibara cracks an eye open and spots a group of burly bodies in combat fatigues moving through the parking garage, presumably actors here for another filming. They're not paying any attention to the entangled shadows behind the tinted windows, but they're too close to the CosPro car to enjoy this decadent indulgence any more.

Ibara breaks away and pants, “We can't do this here, someone is going to see us.” He presses his finger prints to Nagisa's flushed cheek and offers one more promise, “Later, ok? Once our work is complete.”

Nagisa studies his face with hungry eyes, “... Promise me. When our work is done you will be mine for the rest of the evening. We will have dinner together, just the two of us… and you are forbidden from looking at your phone. Promise.”

“... An interesting proposal.” A tall order, but Ibara is a skilled negotiator, “I'm surprised by your initiative, you've never suggested an itinerary of your own before?”

Nagisa wryly tips his head, “I've concluded that if I leave meal planning to you then your meal is more likely to get skipped than planned. But I want your company, and you should eat a proper meal for once, so I'm ordering you to have dinner with me. I've been amassing a list of conversation topics for us in preparation.”

He's put a lot of thought into this, no wonder the sudden interview has him so cross, “Is that so?”

“Yes.” He lifts his chin, as if proud to share his initiative with Ibara, “Some non essential points of confusion that you were too busy to explain at the time, and a handful of topics I believe will spark stimulating conversations for both of us. I am determined to hold your attention,” He shyly deflects, “… at least for one evening.”

“... Ah.” Ibara furrows with guilt, then forlornly shakes his head, “You don't need to prepare ahead of time for my company. You have an indefinite hold on my attention, a permanent feature in my thoughts, never doubt that.”

Nagisa cups a matching hold of his face, clinging to his cheek and locking their stares, “... Promise me, Ibara?”

Ibara can't bring himself to protest after that, “Your terms are agreeable. You have my word, when our work is complete my attention will be yours alone to do anything you desire... After the interview is complete. Ergo — later.

Nagisa dips his head to seal the deal, “... Later.” His touch rises to brush strands of Ibara's disheveled bangs back where they belong, organizing his hair until it's reformed the normal tidy curtain framing his sharp serpentine face. Then he cracks a satisfied smile.

“... Heh. At least you're not pouting anymore. That will improve our interview performance.”

As if on cue, that reminder scrunches Nagisa's lips all over again, “You know I don't care for interviews. Those people ask far too many questions, it's exhausting. Will you… handle the talking for me? Please?” The godlike idol Nagisa Ran regards him with heart melting, wet and wiggly eyes.

And Ibara cracks a rare smile of his own — caring, gentle, vulnerable.

Public speaking will never be Nagisa's strong suit, but his ideal stage persona requires him to be aloof anyway. All His Excellency needs to be is present, mysterious, and beautiful and the viewers are sure to be as captivated as I am. Ibara is happy to handle the lion's share of the talking while his sublime partner awes the masses with his presence alone. That is just one of the ways they complete each other.

“Of course, Your Excellency.” Ibara lets their foreheads press together and nestles their noses as Nagisa's hands coax along his back, “Unless the host prompts you directly I will handle everything. If you feel overwhelmed then give me the signal and I'll step in to cover for you. Ok?”

“... Ok.”

---

The interior of the private studio housing the Sundered Stars film set is impressive, even by luxury accustomed Adam's standards. They enter a reception area decorated in sleek blacks, deep blues and silver trim. The sterile and silent corridors are lit by strange blue light. Every click of the idols’ heels echoes around the complex, the only audible sound at the moment.

This place must have some high profile investors to merit such a futuristic interior.

Ibara can't shake the feeling that something about this complex feels… off.

Too quiet, too empty, too perfect?

Ibara's instincts often default to suspicion — but they are also rarely wrong.

And something about this place feels strange.

If only there had been time to conduct more thorough research, Ibara prefers to know everything about his business associates before climbing into a corporate bed with them. But there's no time remaining. If all goes to plan, Adam will be in front of cameras in less than an hour.

A receptionist notices Adam as they follow the carpet train to the foot of her desk. Not surprising, considering the entry space is deserted aside from them. She is an eerily professional woman, not a hair out of place, “Good evening. It's my pleasure to welcome you to Sundered Studios. Honored guests, Nagisa Ran,” She dips a respectful nod to Eden's leader, then flicks her narrow stare to his partner, “... and Ibara Saegusa. We've been expecting you.”

“Naturally!” Ibara splays a proud palm over his heart. Nagisa hovers behind him, failing to acknowledge the stranger and flitting his attention across the knick knacks on her desk instead. He plucks a geode from her belongings and studies the sheen on the crystals, “Can you direct us to our interviewer?”

She pleasantly dips her head, unbothered by Ibara's arrogance or Nagisa's oddness, and gestures, “Down the hall, your host is waiting for you in the last office.”

Ibara nods in understanding, Nagisa returns her trinket, and Adam proceed down the immaculate blue-lit corridor. A cracked door waits at the end, and Ibara pushes through.

They find a vibrant woman inside, seated behind a desk. She's eye-catching, a unique rainbow of fashion sense with an entire spectrum dyed into her hair to match. Gold, cyan and magenta hues feature most prevalently in her magical girl esque get up. This person could pass as a crayon mascot, or a young children's show entertainer, but Ibara knows this is indeed the celebrity late night show host who requested their presence. They must be in the right place, even if it still feels wrong. The woman jolts when they enter, slaps her laptop closed, and tucks it away-

But not fast enough.

Ibara catches a glimpse of a company logo on the back of her computer — and his eyes blow wide beyond the rims of his glasses.

It was only a fleeting sighting, but he can't unsee it.

A pulse echoes in his head, and he clutches his temple.

The logo is innocuous, meaningless to most. A humble inverted blue star in the bullseye of a target, but when Ibara sees it, he is banished to another place and time.

Smaller — bedraggled and exhausted. Smudged with layers of dirt and gunpowder, and dressed in fullbody combat camo.

A blazing inferno rages around him. Pain from hard fought wounds cannot be ignored but must be surpassed. Failure is never an option — survival is the only option.

A trail of blood trickles down his temple as he gasps breaths of acrid air and struggles to see around grime and gore and black smoke. Then he hears the dissonant creaking of metal infrastructure as it all comes crashing down around him-

“Um… excuse me? Saegusa? Are you alright?”

The stranger's words sound distant, but Ibara latches onto them like a lifeline. He escapes the horrific vision of another place and time and returns to reality — to find both of the others staring at him. The colorful woman raises a scathing brow, Nagisa also scrutinizes his uncharacteristic absentmindedness with a concerned furrow.

Ibara shakes his head to dispel his wandering thoughts, “... Of course! I am right as rain!” He sweatdrops and amends, "B-but can you… repeat that?”

“... Oh-kay?” She gives him a once over, “I saaaaid ‘You're here early’! I wanted to meet you in the lobby myself rather than make you wander the studio on your lonesomes… Now you'll think I'm a poor host! But I spose I should've anticipated promptness from you?”

“Aha! My reputation precedes me, it seems.” Ibara raises a pointer, “Your observation is astute madam, professionalism is my utmost priority☆”

His quirkiness charms the colorful woman, she discards the last of her suspicion like flipping a switch and eagerly clutches her hands, “Eee! You're just like I imagined you'd be! Punctuality is not a problem, we can get started now, I so excited to see how this turns out-!” She coughs to conclude he ramble, “Excuse my poor hosting, it's a pleasure to meet you two. I am…” She strikes a pose so sparkly it would make Hiyori turn greener with envy, “~Lanina La'mazing~!”

… Uh-huh. So you claim. But Ibara knew that much already. Obviously that nonsensical moniker is a stage name. For professional reasons? Or to conceal something else? What connection does this girl hold to that distant memory-?

No time to let his thoughts wander again, lest he give a poor impression. He cups a hand over his heart and dips his head, “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Lanina. As you know we are Adam, this is my glorious leader Nagisa Ran, and I am Ibara Saegusa.”

She winks, “Charmed~☆” Then wiggles enough to rattle her rainbow of accessories, “I can't wait to sink my teeth into you two! Right this way! Your set is already prepared.”

Lanina holds the door, and leads them back into the odd hall. They fall in step, host between the idols. She's modestly statured, only slightly taller than Ibara, so Nagisa dwarfs them both.

Ibara takes the opportunity to study the colorful woman's profile — as if her television grade smile is concealing crucial secrets, “... I was curious why you only invited Adam to this interview. I handle all of our scheduling, so I'm certain Eve are available this evening as well. There is still time for me to summon them-?”

She shakes her head, “That won't be necessary, this segment is meant to feature quality time with just Adam! I've wanted to have the two of you on my show for a while, truth be told.”

“Is that so?”

She tents her fingers behind her back and bobbles a giddy nod, “Mhm! My boss took an interest in Adam after the music video for Melting Rogue Soul premiered. He showed it to me, and I was hooked right away! Adam's chemistry in that song is through the roof, beyond any other idols I've seen…” She slyly narrows her eyes, “almost as if there's something more going on between you twooo?”

“Ahrm-” Ibara coughs, “... Pardon?”

She waves a hand, “Oh, I don't want to spoil the fun now! We're gonna get to the bottom of Adam's bond once you're on stage.”

Oh.

Is that the motive behind this oddly timed interview? Catch us off guard to oust my greatest secret? The closely guarded reality that Adam's partnership goes beyond… acceptable professional limits.

It's fine, Ibara is an expert at dodging undesirable questions. Adam can still come out on top of this ambush, and profit from the air time. He isn't scared of this empty headed girl.

“... Apologies, miss Lanina, but I fear you've been misled by Eden's business tactics. That ‘chemistry’ you observed is nothing more than a calculated facet of our performance. Many idol fans enjoy seeing their idols interact in flirtatious ways, and Eden caters to that demographic. I'm sure you've noticed Eve carry on even more shamelessly in their duets-”

“True, those two put on quite a show, they're basically the industry experts on queer baiting, but it's not the same. Adam are… different. I'm sure of it.”

Ibara swallows, “... I will have a word with Eve about the authenticity of their performance-”

Lanina shrugs, "Don't bother, it wouldn't do any good. Eve are acting to the best of their abilities, but no actor can fake what Adam has.” She whips around to target Nagisa, “Isn't that right?”

Nagisa is caught off guard, probably wasn't listening to their conversation. He recoils a step, and blinks fish eyes down at the odd woman.

She seems amused that she's unsettled him so easily, “Nothing about you is fake, hm?” She advances, for no apparent reason — then strokes an unbidden hand over Nagisa's bicep, “Certainly not this godly physique.” Squeeze, squeeze — wink~☆

What is her game?!

This woman is an enemy unlike any Ibara has ever encountered before. What does she want?! She acts more like their fan than foe, but if she gets her way she could unveil the secret that would ruin their careers?! She's an inherently ridiculous individual, but poses enough of a threat to destroy them?! And what is her connection to that inverted star from his distant past-?!

There is no time.

Nagisa's distress is obvious. He was already nearing his limit for strangers after a long work day. Unfortunately his visible discomfort doesn't dissuade Lanina from fondling a handful of his arm muscles. But Ibara has spent a great deal of effort coaching his leader in being cordial with fans. Nagisa clearly doesn't want the unfamiliar woman to touch him, but he doesn't know how to make her stop without committing an idol faux paux.

So he turns to Ibara for help.

Adam's eyes meet behind Lanina's back — but rather than intervene, Ibara mouths, ‘Keep going.’

Nagisa gapes, shocked by that betrayal. But he said it himself in the car — ‘I know you wouldn't ask me to do anything that wasn't essential.’

Trust me, Your Excellency. This is essential. Keep going. Please. Ibara hopes his eyes can communicate that plea.

It works. Nagisa understands his silent communicae. He swallows his distress, and forces an unnatural and tense smile for the woman as she continues to grope his body.

Ibara chimes in, “Pardon me, is there a restroom around here I can freshen up for the cameras?”

Lanina briefly looks away from the massive man she's cornered and waves a disinterested hand, “Oh, sure. Down the hall, on the right."

“Then I will return momentarily☆” Ibara excuses himself.

…

Ibara returns to them a short time later and finds ‘Lanina La’mazing’ has wide eyed Nagisa Ran pinned to the wall like a cornered animal. She's twirling a lock of his hair around her finger, smiling with amusement while he gawks and stammers fragments of words.

Ibara clenches his fist to bury the unhelpful feelings that sight stokes in him, “... Well! Are we ready to proceed?” He quips.

Lanina unpins his partner with a chipper smile, “Oh, I was born ready for this! Your special set is just down the hall, come along boys~”

Nagisa puffs a relieved sigh, and shuffles back into Ibara's shadow.

Lanina leads them into the depths of the studio and stops in front of a door under a dormant ‘LIVE’ sign. She holds the door for the idols, “Talent before grace~☆”

Ibara performs his usual deference, “After you, Your Excellency.”

“... But,” Nagisa frowns, “... I think you're very talented, Ibara?”

Ibara sweat drops, “Please, proceed.”

“... Very well. But I'm adding this to our list of conversation topics for later.” Nagisa complies.

Ibara follows.

Then the door slams shut behind them.

Clack! — The ominous echo of the door's lock shifting into place and sealing them inside their special set.

It seems their odd job has just gotten odder. And this does not look like any television set Ibara has ever set foot on before.

Adam have been sealed inside an almost featureless white room. It's devoid of the stylish decor from the rest of the facility, eerily empty, like a deprivation chamber. The closest comparison he can draw is an asylum cell, right down to insulation padding on the floor and walls.

But there are four cameras on this bizarre set, one high above them in every corner, currently tracking the two idols.

That air headed host… has taken them hostage.

Ibara wheels on the door, “Excuse me? What is the meaning of this?”

“Juuuust a second, BRB!” Lanina's bright and bubbly voice replies. A moment later she speaks again — but this time through an overhead speaker that echoes around the sealed chamber, “Kay, I'm back! You were saying?”

Ibara snarls through his teeth, “Why have you locked us in this room?”

“Don't worry, this is all a part of the plan! Adam will be starring in a one of a kind special feature, just like I promised!”

Ibara's hackles rise with suspicion, but his meager stature is nothing but a blip in the center of the stark white room. His glasses catch a glint of light, giving nothing more away about the volatile emotions churning within him, “None of this was in our negotiated contract. Release us immediately, or else-”

“Sooorry. My boss said I can't letcha out until we're done filming.”

“... Filming WHAT-?!”

“That's the best part-! Huh?” She turns away as if speaking to someone else, “Oh, Ok… My boss wants to explain, so I'm gonna let him take over.”

The microphone rattles as it changes hands, then — “Ibara Saegusa.” A new voice echoes around the featureless room. A man. He sounds cold, cruel, and a little silly, like he'd make an excellent Saturday morning cartoon villain, “You won't remember my name, but I assume you remember the name ‘Sundered Skies’.”

Ibara does remember that name. One of his many long lost enemies, but Ibara will never forget an enemy.

A covert mission he completed a lifetime ago. The details don't matter much, it wasn't personal, it was orders. Ibara never wanted to fight others' battles, his only priority during his military service was to survive.

But his superiors noticed his fierce survival instinct made him an effective implement. Ibara fought like hell itself to survive if forced to, even if he hated the orders he was following. So they gave him a lot of orders.

It was just orders. Sundered Skies were an arms dealer specialized in surface to air missiles — one of countless villainous organizations around the globe who make a fortune by selling death.

Ibara considers himself a superior villain for making his fortune selling pop music instead. The life of an idol is the life he chose, that life he left behind is… unsavory.

In his past life he was ordered to destroy Sundered Skies primary munitions factory. He succeeded, of course. Because failure meant death and death wasn't an option. He reduced their precious asset to smoldering rubble, costing the company untold damages in the process of completing his mission.

“I am the CEO of Sundered Skies, and you owe me a debt.”

Another old enemy with the audacity to threaten the glorious new life he's building… and threaten Nagisa's wellbeing.

There is no greater offense to Ibara Saegusa. His blood runs reptile cold as his fists grit with tension, “So you've taken us hostage, I presume? How much do you intend to charge for Adam's ransom?”

“Not quite. You're going to work off the debt you owe me.”

“I'm no longer in your line of work.”

“I know. Thankfully idols are plenty profitable. As you can see, I've been diversifying my portfolio in preparation for this.”

“... Weapons of destruction to idols is quite a leap, I suspect you're out of your depth-”

“I never forgot the face of the brat who took everything from me. I wanted you dead for years, but then I found out about your career change. I recognized your smarmy face… in a music video. A commercial for chocolate?! You were clean and crisply dressed, but I was sure you were the filth covered bloody brat I saw through the smoke that day my factory burned down. I couldn't believe the unkillable demon kid that wrecked our entire operation… is an idol now?! Making googly eyes at some other idiot and winking for cameras. Acting like a fool after everything you've done… it pissed me off. But then I realized this was how you could square our debt — Adam works for me now.”

“... How do you figure?”

“See the cameras?”

Ibara nods.

“They're rolling. If you and your partner want out of that room then you're gonna give me some insurance. I need a way to keep you in line until your debt is paid, and your ridiculous video gave me an idea. You and the giant are obviously fucking, so don't play dumb. ‘Adam’ are gonna record a video for me, the kind of video I can use to kill ‘Adam’ in an instant if I release it. So I can make sure you'll stay obedient until I've reclaimed every cent you caused in damages… or until I've bankrupted you. Whichever comes first. Understand?”

Ibara does understand. The man wants blackmail to keep them in line so they'll have no choice but to pay him any sum he demands. He's gambling that Ibara would give up anything to preserve their legacy. Anything for Adam's survival, “... And if we refuse?”

A collection of panels on each wall creak open — and four massive silver gatling machine gun turrets emerge. The immaculate silver barrels spin and whir to life, creaking down in unison to lock on target — the humble statured serpent in the center of the room.

It's been a while since Ibara has stared down the barrel of a gun, let alone four, let alone four loaded gatling machine guns, but they don't scare him. They just offend him even further.

“Then the turrets riddle you and your empty headed ‘partner’ with bullets. I want you to repay me for destroying my factory, but I'll settle for your death if I have to. I remember you're pretty good at dodging bullets, maybe you'll last a few minutes? How do you think your partner will do…? That freak seems damn near brain dead to me, I doubt he lasts long.”

“... You will regret insulting him.”

“Only two ways out of this room, Saegusa. As my loyal employee, or in a body bag. Choose.”

There's a rattling sound as a hand snatches the mic, then Lanina's bubbly voice, “In other words, FUCK OR DIE! Ehehe~☆ This is the best segment you've ever let me run, boss! I can't wait to see what happens next!”

Fuck… or die?

Ibara blanches, struggling to process the ridiculous reality of the trap they wandered into. As the man said, there are only two options. Film a sex tape with Nagisa that his enemy can use to control his every move indefinitely. Or die.

But survival has always been the priority, so there is only one option.

Ibara finally turns to check on his partner — but the sight makes him gasp.

Nagisa doesn't look panicked or scared. He looks… vacant. He's just staring at the locked door like the featureless cell of a room has rendered his partner stiff as a corpse.

Ibara takes a cautious step closer, “... Your Excellency? Are you alright?”

There's no response.

But… I can always reach him?

…

Oh no.

Sometimes Ibara forgets he isn't the only one with skeletons in his closet.

---

Nagisa never thought he'd return to this place. The empty white room where he waits and waits and waits-

He… thought he was done with this place?

But maybe it was naive to think he'd be free of the room where he waits. The instant the door closed, it was like he never left. Like retreating back into a miserable old shell that never fit. There's noise, a conversation — but the words flow right through him. Nagisa retreats into the lonely shell he inhabited for so long as if nothing ever changed.

But he can survive. He just has to wait. His savior will come eventually. So he hides within himself, and does just that.

But… there's someone else here?

A blurry figure, miniscule and maroon, just a sliver of a man. He's saying more words, but Nagisa doesn't process them. He is in stasis, until the wait is over.

A booming cry rattles around his empty ears, “YOUR EXCELLENCY?!”

… Who?

The yelling fails to produce a response, so the imp shaped man rushes into Nagisa's personal space and clutches his cheek to turn it down. Their stares fall into line — but Nagisa's eyes fail to lock on anything in particular.

More words fail to penetrate his ears, “... L-Look at me! Your Excellency!”

Nagisa doesn't resist being moved. He's not in his body at the moment. He's lost in his distant past. Nothing? Nothing, nothing, nothing-

“... NAGISA!”

… Yes? That's me?

But there shouldn't be anyone in my room. Father will be upset-

Nagisa blinks — and his vision clears enough to see the frantic face hovering in front of his. Strained deep ocean eyes and an anxious grit toothed grimace… but… this isn't his savior. This isn't the one who came for him.

A bundle of words escape Nagisa's wiggly lip, “... W-where is Hiyori? Is he coming for me? I'll wait, but I don't want to stay in my room anymore.”

The little imp winces, as if those words caused physical pain? But the touching continues. Everything feels foggy — except the fierce fingers digging divots into Nagisa's face. That's wrong too. He was never touched in this room, never ever like this. Clinging and clawing like he's holding on for dear life? No one has ever touched him so desperately? It's… wrong?

The strange sharp eyed man nestles against his jaw, and forlornly shuts his eyes, "His Highness isn't here, I'm sorry” He snivels, but swallows to contain any more emotion, “… b-but… I-I am?”

Nagisa blinks, “... Ibara?”

Yes. It is him. The one he owes everything. The one he can be himself with. The one who comforts and cares for him. His enlightened half.

… But — crying? Why crying? That's not right either.

Ibara blinks away the shimmer in his eyes, then bobbles a nod, “Y-Yes…! It's me.” Familiar arms coil around Nagisa's neck and pull him down until their foreheads meet, “I'm here, Nagisa.”

Nagisa reciprocates by cupping both his hips, it's easy to return Ibara's affection, “... You shouldn't be. No one else is supposed to be in my room, Father will be angry with both of us. And… it's awful in here. You should go somewhere else instead-”

“I will never abandon you. You never have to be alone again, ok?”

Nagisa burrows into the hug. Ibara is so small but his hugs still feel so safe, “.......... Ok.”

Ibara's voice cracks, “I'm sorry, my love. We should never have come here. We should've gone home like you wanted to.”

“... Why apologize? Not your fault. Father is the one who locked me in here.”

“... Right.” Ibara cradles his face sweetly enough that nothing else feels important. Nagisa nestles into the touch and leaves kisses on his palm while Ibara contemplates for a long time. He is good at contemplating, that is right.

Ibara's calculating eyes flit across something above their heads near the ceiling, tense, uncharacteristically anxious.

Nagisa doesn't notice, more than happy to savor their blissful embrace. Ibara never lets them hug this long, but Nagisa determines he's alright with that being wrong-

“Nagisa?”

“... Hm?”

“People are trying to come between us.”

“... What?”

“Our enemies are trying to destroy Adam.”

“... Why are you saying such upsetting things?”

“Because it's true. They want to tear us apart-”

“No!” Nagisa's gut lunches with dread. He snags handfuls of Ibara's waist to snatch him up and furiously shakes his head into his neck, “I won't let them! I won't let anyone take you away! I… need you, Ibara.”

“I know. There's a way you can stop them from separating us.”

“... Tell me how.”

“Prove to them that I already belong to you.” Ibara guides them down until they're both kneeling together on the padded floor. The conniving serpent occupies his lap and a fork tongued whisper tickles his ear, “Prove to the entire world that I already belong to you.”

The familiar little body in his lap feels warm and welcome- Nagisa swallows, “... I thought your instructions were to not do… that while others are watching?”

“Not this time. It must be now. Our enemies are watching us now, my love.”

“... I don't want them looking at you.”

“They are.” Ibara's fingers twirl tempting knots through his hair, “They're watching me, because they want to take me away. Admiring me from afar, plotting to steal me for themselves-”

“But you're mine!”

“I know.” Ibara fiendishly grins, as if approving that possessive claim, “But you must show them, Your Excellency. If you don't prove that I'm yours then they'll take me away-”

“... No. No-” Nagisa's breaths accelerate, furious about the unthinkable notion of eyes in the sky admiring his precious partner. I won't let anyone take him! Ibara belongs to ME-

Nagisa's hands fly into action with force he isn't conscious of. With a single tug he rips the front of Ibara's button apart. A cascade of buttons go flying, then he strokes his palms over the pale firm body that tempts him like no other. He claws over ribs as Ibara curls like a serpent into his touch.

Ibara assists by shrugging off the remains of the shirt then latching them into a kiss. Nagisa shifts to align Ibara's core with his crotch, and starts grinding up. The warmth and intensity gets him hard in mere moments, his anxiety is insistent that Ibara could be lost if he wastes even a single second.

Their bond is more than physical indulgence, but Nagisa's emotions are spiraling so fiercely that he can't think of much else at the moment. The idea of an enemy taking away what he cherishes most is upsetting enough to spark a volatile tantrum. As if Ibara will be ripped from his arms if he doesn't fuck him this instant-

Nagisa is panting as he fights to strip their pants, he can't catch his breath around the rush. But Ibara is all compliant cuddles, humming in encouragement and purring praise into his ear. Even once he's stripped and Nagisa's nails gouge into his thighs. Ibara is left bare and vulnerable just over Nagisa's aching attitude fueled erection, but the serpent coils so supple and submissive against his bare chest.

Another whisper, “Now, Your Excellency.”

“... Ok.” Nagisa tips Ibara onto his back, thrusts his hips, and gasps with relief when he's surrounded by a familiar hug of warmth.

The size difference between their bodies is so extreme that penetrating Ibara always feels like conquering him. Or claiming him, as the case may be.

It's tight, but inch after inch of Nagisa's cock slips into the willing little body, feeling it swell to accommodate him once again. Ibara yowls and his spine bends, flexing his torso taut with visible strain. Nagisa claims his thighs and pulls Ibara onto the remainder of his cock until his balls end up flush with flesh.

Then he admires the bulge his imposing endowment has formed in Ibara's stomach — an intimate mound swelling below Ibara's navel. A sight that will surely leave no doubt in any spectator. He is mine.

Ibara also admires the cock bulge filling his skin with a wild grin. Then he turns a far more tender stare up, tangles their fingers, and guides Nagisa to lean over him. Nagisa follows his partner's guidance, and starts rolling into the cozy warmth of his ass.

It's good, good as always. Just them in a sea of stars that no one else can see. The pain of this place feels like a million miles away with Ibara in his arms, the room is gone, he's with the stars now. The loneliness can't hurt him anymore. Nagisa's desperation ebs into tender but needy thrusts. He doesn't feel trapped or scared or lost. Not anymore.

The endless white void of a room fades into nebula laced with starlight. A tapestry of pair bonded Gods sharing their heavens — any mortal should consider themselves lucky to witness this.

Nagisa's tension ebs as he chases more decadent intimacy. Ibara pries him from his shell, and shows him the whole universe. He does that all the time, every day. It's just a bit more literal than usual at the moment.

Nagisa nestles into the top of the crown of ruby hair while Ibara croons with ecstasy every time he bottoms out. Legs latch above Nagisa's ass allowing him to stretch Ibara's body in slow deep extremes. His back rolls repeatedly between those pale slender legs while Ibara claws into his shoulders.

Who cares if anyone is watching? Let them, they are insignificant. Nothing. These cosmos belong to them, but mortals can't help but admire the heavens. No human can hope to oppose Gods, but it's only natural that they envy us. 

But I don't care about their feelings.

No one will take Ibara from me. I won't let them. I won't-

“... Ibara- Don't go. You said you wouldn't leave me alone. Please don't-”

“I won't. I'm here. I'm yours.”

Mine.

Let the whole world envy Ibara.  Let them gaze upon Adam's coupling and dream of someday knowing such sublime intimacy. Dream all you want, but you will never feel the heart glow of Ibara's unending worship. It is all mine.

Nagisa's pace peaks with a needy groan. Overflowing with affection for the one who tirelessly supports him. The one who never tries to change him, but celebrates him instead. The one who taught him insanity doesn't have to be lonely.

When his end feels close, Nagisa rises to his knees, and lifts Ibara under his thighs. He thrusts up into the new angle, flagrantly displaying the entirety of his dick as it glides in and out of his partner's tempting little body.

Ibara goes limp against his chest, allowing Nagisa to lift him on and off in a rush for his imminent end. Ibara's neck rolls onto his shoulder to stare into Nagisa's intense eyes. He looks awestruck, and breathless and beautiful-

Nagisa leans against his temple, and gives all he has. Their bodies clap and clap — until Nagisa plummets over the end.

When he finishes, he pulls Ibara on to the stomach bulging limit, and a pulse echoes through Ibara. Then another and another, until hot sticky streams seep out of his ass. Multiple white trails trickle down his thighs, but Adam don't break their stare until Nagisa is finished.

Then he claims Ibara's handful of dick, and strokes. Ibara bucks gratefully into his hand, gasping and uttering stray syllables of his name, “Nah… Nagi- … sa!” until his own mess also sullies his skin.

Then Adam's foreheads collapse against each other as they savor their blissful afterglow, “... Did I do it, Ibara?”

Ibara smiles with pride, “Yes, Your Excellency. You were extraordinary.”

---

Ibara's next instructions are undesirable, but simple, so Nagisa regretfully unhands him to get dressed once more. As he shimmies back into his pants, his ebbing possessive emotions make room for additional memories.

…Wait.

Where are we? Didn't we come here for an interview?

Oh well. This was much more enjoyable than any interview he's given before.

As always, Ibara dresses far more efficiently than him. He's already at the door and irritably tapping his foot as Nagisa threads arms through his shirt and ruffles his collar into form. There must be more business to attend to, Ibara's focus seems intense. Far too intense to pester him with questions about how they got here, Nagisa adds those non-essential questions to the list of discussion items for later.

Finally the door opens — to reveal a bubbly bright smile waiting for them on the other side. Oh, right. Her. Nagisa remembers the touchy woman too. Lanoisy? Something like that.

The whimsically colored girl… has a nose bleed now. Which is both unsanitary and unsightly. She gives the idols two thumbs up, “That was quite a show, Adam! Soooorry for tricking you, but I'm sure you understand, I was just following orders~”

Ibara says nothing. He fetches a luxury fountain pen from his pocket, a precious keepsake he always keeps on hand for signing important documentation, then dextrously twirls it and clutches the shaft in a back handed fist.

As the girl continues her innocent babbling, “No hard feelings, right-?”

The metal tip of the fountain pen catches a glint of light — then Ibara plunges it into the side of Lanoisy's throat.

Which causes quite a strange gurgle to come out of the girl. She gasps around a surge of blood in her throat and paws at the pen, but that only causes it to fire another squirt of blood. She gasps and gasps in an attempt to breathe around the blood flooding her airway then finally collapses to the ground.

Nagisa wanders over for a closer look, the colorful woman meets his eye with desperation, unable to speak but silently screaming what can only be ‘HELP ME’.

Nagisa curiously tips his head as he studies the gasping gurgling girl leaking a pool of blood from her neck, but shows no further reaction. He just stares unblinking back at her… until the light fades from her eyes.

“Stay close to me, Your Excellency.” Ibara's voice reclaims his attention. The viper checks the hall in both directions, searching for something that's probably important. He settles on going right, and takes a step, “There is still work to be done-”

“Wait, Ibara!”

“Hm?”

Nagisa kneels and collects the murder weapon from the corpse, “Don't forget your pen.”

“... Heh.” Ibara accepts and studies the crimson slaked fountain tip, “Thanks.”

Ibara leads Adam deeper into the strange studio. A bunch more men in combat fatigues attempt to get in his way, but they meet the same fate as the girl. Ibara's dispatch method is different every time, whatever is most efficient in the moment, but the result is the same. He employs a stapler, an office chair, his own belt, whatever is on hand. Ibara's resourcefulness is impressive as always.

Nagisa just hovers in his partner's wake as cascades of blood fly through air, one after another echoed by agonized screams while he looks on with disinterest verging on boredom. Ibara handles this task with the same efficiency he applies to all their work, this doesn't even seem like a challenge for him.

Shouldn't mortals know better than to oppose Gods? Especially considering how fragile they seem to be. What a senseless waste of time.

Every person who dares to get in their way falls and falls and falls — then a final wild spray of gore lands on Nagisa's cheek. He pouts, and brushes it away, then observes Ibara is approaching an office that looks very important.

Ibara kicks through the door. There's a man inside behind a desk. He and Ibara have a conversation, Nagisa doesn't find it particularly interesting.

“H-How did you get through my mercenaries-?! What kind of monster are you?!”

“I am just an idol… with a no tolerance policy for enemies. By the time I leave this place your studio will meet the same fate as your factory. I have no intention of giving you a second chance for revenge.”

“... B-Back off, you little demon!” The uninteresting man makes his final stand behind his computer, and hovers his hand over the mouse, "If you take another step I'll upload that video and Adam's careers will die with me!”

“No you won't." Ibara steps without fear, “I investigated your minion's laptop shortly after I arrived and gathered enough context to conclude I shouldn't trust whatever was going on here, so I installed a jamming device that bricked your wifi. You won't be uploading anything.”

“... Huh-?!”

“Your network is dead, the blackmail you recorded will soon be dead, and so will everyone who witnessed it.” Ibara's heels click, click, click over the pristine tile floor.

“... No. N-no! NOOO-!”

One final spray of blood — then silence.

Ibara abandons the mess that used to be a man and circles the desk. Then he studies the state of his violence stained business attire, and hefts a labored sigh. The unassuming little viper plucks his glasses from nose, scrubs the frames, and shakes his head, “What a mess.”

Nagisa quips, “... Did you win, Ibara?”

That prompt earns a smile from his weary little partner, “... Yes, Your Excellency. We won.”

“Wonderful.” Nagisa echoes an easy going smile, “Another job well done for Adam.”

“... Of course. Job complete. That is what matters most.” But in spite of that assertion, Ibara hefts another sigh, and his attention flits back to the mess behind the desk.

Which offends Nagisa. Ibara — I won't let you forget your promise. The work is done, you promised your attention would be mine now. Nagisa wanders into his personal space, and rotates him by the waist to reclaim what was promised.

“... Hm?” Ibara peers up, allowing him to admire those bright sapphire eyes, brimming with curiosity under his unexpected touch.

Still beautiful. Even around bloodstains, “Then with our work complete, may I ravage you in celebration?”

Ibara's smirk twists, “... I thought you wanted to get dinner?”

Nagisa claims Ibara's thighs, hoists him up to sit on the edge of the dead man's desk, then slots between his legs so they're flush all over again, “... Later?”

“... Ah. An intriguing proposal.” Ibara steals a minute of deep delving eye contact, then snares them into a tight embrace. The ruthless viper clings to his partner like his only priority in the world is keeping him close, “... Deal.”