The clang of my locker door shutting echoed louder than I expected. My fingers lingered on the cool metal for a moment before I stepped back, letting out a slow breath through my nose.

“‘You sure you want this,’ huh?” Vivi drawled from next to me, tugging their vest off one shoulder and tossing it onto the bench with a wet thwap. “Dramatic much, Tats?”

I shot them a look, my lips tugging into an embarrassed grin despite myself. “What can I say? You must be finally rubbing off with the one-liners.”

“Yeah, well, you sure picked a winner,” they snorted, yanking their training shirt over their head. Their dark, sweat-damp skin glistened under the bright fluorescent overhead lights. “Sounded like something out of a bad action flick. All you needed was the slow-motion walk towards the guy.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Breaker muttered, pulling off his gloves with a grunt. His voice had that low, gravelly calm that made you feel like he’d seen every mistake you could possibly make—and had the patience to correct you anyway. “Tats already walks around like they’re two inches taller after pulling stunts like that.”

“It's the horns, Break,” Viper shot back, flicking a grin toward me. “The imaginary ones. Or the ones that succubus walks around with, that helps too I reckon.”

“Better horns than a head full of hot air,” I quipped, untying my boots.

Viper barked a short laugh, one sharp ha! that echoed off the tiles. They flopped down onto the bench, leaning forward with their elbows on their knees. “All these years with me and your one-liners still don’t hit,” they countered. “Still, I give the line a solid seven out of ten. Could’ve used a little more snarl.” They curled their hands like claws, their grin sharp as a blade. “Really dig in, you know?”

“Noted,” I muttered, tugging my boot off with more force than necessary. It hit the ground with a dull thud. “Next time, I’ll make sure to consult you for pre-fight quips before fighting anyone.”

“Please do,” Viper said, grinning like they’d already won. “I’m a master of the form.”

“Master of being a menace,” Breaker muttered, rolling his shoulders. The movement made his whole frame shift, muscles tightening under his skin like cables drawn taut. The guy was built like a tank, every inch of him thick with muscle and bulk. It didn’t matter how many drills we ran—Breaker never seemed to slow down.

“Someone’s gotta keep things interesting,” Viper shot back.

“Interesting’s not always good, Vi,” Breaker grumbled, unlacing his boots with slow, methodical precision. His movements were the kind of slow that came from experience—no rush, no wasted effort.

“Interesting’s always good,” Viper countered, leaning back with their arms stretched behind them, grinning up at the ceiling like they’d already won the argument.

“Tell that to Paul,” Breaker said without looking up.

Viper snorted. “Nah, I’d need to use smaller words to match the academy levels.”

That earned a rare chuckle from Breaker—a low, short huh that was gone as quick as it came.

“Careful, he’s still got that jaw to nurse,” I muttered, pulling off my second boot. My hands were slower than I wanted them to be, fingers stiff from the strain of earlier. The ache had settled deep into my bones, making every movement feel twice as heavy.

“Poor Rookie,” Viper said, feigning pity as they rubbed at their eyes like they were wiping away tears. “Guy’s gonna be drinking soup for a week.”

“Better than what he deserved,” Breaker said, his tone quiet but firm. He set his boots aside with careful precision, his eyes flicking toward me. “Glad you didn’t finish it, Rak’. Would’ve been more trouble than it’s worth. Especially with those parents of his.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, flexing my fingers. They still felt tight, the skin across my knuckles raw, but slowly healing. “I know.”

We let the quiet settle for a moment. No more teasing, no more talk about Paul. The only sounds left were the clang of lockers opening and closing, the shuffle of boots being kicked off, and the low hum of the showers running just beyond the wall. The kind of noise you don’t notice until you’re trying to listen for something else.

“Hey,” Watcher’s voice chimed in suddenly, cutting clean through the lull in conversation. Its voice had that tinny, distorted undertone thanks to the voice modulator it used—too many augmentations in its throat and chest for natural speech to come through clean. The volume wasn’t loud, but it carried, like a radio transmission cutting through static.

I turned my head to see it strolling toward the lockers, its movements smooth, precise, and too clean—like a machine following pre-programmed steps. Its arms moved just a little too perfectly in sync with its legs. Augments did that to people. It pulled off its jacket, revealing the black mesh of under-armor covering its torso and the segmented cybernetic joints of its arms.

“Good hit on Paul,” Watcher said casually, tilting its head at me in that way only it could do—just a few degrees too sharp to be natural. “Predictable reaction. Poor reaction time.”

“That supposed to be a compliment, Cam?” I asked, yanking my shirt off and tossing it aside. It landed on the bench with a wet slap.

“Observation,” Watcher replied, setting its jacket neatly into its locker. “Combat pattern recognition. He’s slower than you. Poor coverage on left flank. If you have to swing again, aim for the cheekbone. Better results. Might break something, though.”

Viper snickered, tilting their head toward me. “Hear that, Tats? Next time, aim higher.”

“No ‘next time,’” Breaker grunted, glancing between me and Watcher. “No second swings. First one’s gotta count. What happens next is up to him.”

“Agreed,” Watcher said, its mechanical fingers flexing like it was running diagnostics on itself.

“Glad we’ve all become experts on hitting Paul,” I muttered, grabbing my towel. “Real productive use of squad time.”

“Gotta train for what we’re good at,” Viper said, grabbing their own towel. “And apparently, you’re good at putting rookies in their place.”

“Go to hell, Vivi,” I muttered, though there wasn’t much bite behind it.

They winked at me as they stood. “I’ll save you a seat.”

The mood lightened as the squad shifted from locker talk to shower prep. Towels were slung over shoulders, bottles of soap snatched from lockers, and boots were shoved into corners. Watcher moved in that same unsettling, fluid way toward the showers, its steps perfectly even. Viper followed close behind, walking with a swagger that was more exhaustion than confidence.

I grabbed my soap and towel, tossing both over my shoulder as I trailed after them. The low ache everywhere hadn’t gone away, but it had dulled to something easier to ignore. A few minutes of hot water, and I’d feel alive again.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

The steady hiss of showers grew louder as we stepped closer, the fog of steam curling out from the tile stalls like mist from a forest floor. The air grew warmer, heavier, until every breath felt thick.

Viper stepped into the nearest open stall, tossing their towel onto the hook just outside before turning the water on. The sharp hiss of hot water echoed through the space, followed by a pleased groan as they stuck their head under the spray. “Oh, yeah,” they muttered, their voice echoing faintly. “That’s the good stuff.”

I stepped in after them, tossing my towel onto the hook beside theirs. The water had already started to heat up, steam curling in the air around us. Viper was quick to grab the soap, lathering up.

“Back or front?” they asked, glancing over their shoulder.

“Back,” I muttered, already turning around.

They snorted. “Thought so.”

I let my head drop forward, letting the water cascade down my shoulders, washing away the sweat and grime from drills. The tension in my back slowly unraveled as Viper’s hands pressed against my shoulders, scrubbing in firm, practiced circles. It was an old routine, one we’d fallen into so naturally over the years that it barely felt like thinking.

We’d done this after long days on the streets, washing off dirt and blood in sink basins with stolen soap. The muscle memory never left.

“You’re quiet,” Viper said after a while. Their tone was still light, but there was a thread of something more serious beneath it.

“Thinking,” I muttered, tilting my head to let the water hit my neck.

“Dangerous pastime,” they shot back, rinsing the soap from their hands.

“Keep talking, Vivi,” I muttered, groaning as their hands worked my back. “See what happens.”

“Promises, promises,” they shot back.

My eyes rolled on instinct, and I reached up to rub at the back of my neck. The tightness was still there, knotted muscle straining like over-pulled cord. I was so focused on the warmth of the shower and Viv’s hands that I almost missed the prickle of awareness—the faint pull at the edge of my senses that told me someone was watching. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t obvious. But it was there.

I turned my head just a fraction, catching movement near the entryway to the showers.

Jin.

Her sharp eyes watched me from the threshold, her hands balled into fists. She didn’t move, didn’t step forward. She just watched.

My heart did a weird, stupid lurch.

Shit.

“Uh-oh,” Viper murmured, already grinning as they glanced between me and the angry succubus. “Looks like someone’s not happy about our little routine.”

Yeah, no kidding.

“Come here,” I said, keeping my voice low. “It’s alright. I should’ve come to find you after the drills. I just—”

Her ears twitched, her gaze softening just a fraction. Slowly, she stepped into the stall, her gaze never leaving mine. The space was suddenly feeling much smaller.

Her tail looped tightly around my calf, a firm, grounding pressure that never strayed far. Steam curled around us, clinging to skin and hair, the air so thick with warmth that every breath felt like drinking from a hot spring.

Jin’s eyes stayed locked on me, unblinking, sharp with intent as she growled low.

“Easy, love,” I murmured, brushing my wet fingers against her arm. Her gaze flicked down to where we touched, her fingers twitching faintly as if considering taking hold of me.

“Easy, huh?” Viper muttered, stepping to the side with a grin so wide I could practically hear it. “Didn’t realize she was the boss now, Tats. You always roll over this quick for a pair of pretty tits? Maybe I should’ve kept mine after all.”

“Vivi,” I said, glancing at them from the corner of my eye. “Not. Helping.”

“Sure I am,” they said, still grinning as they reached for the soap. “I’m building camaraderie. Bonding experience. Isn’t that what Reaper’s always on about?” They clicked their tongue and passed the soap into Jin’s hands, tilting their head at her with that same sharp grin. “Here, newbie. Since you’re so eager, you might as well make yourself useful.”

Her eyes narrowed, sharp as broken glass, but she took the soap without hesitation. Her fingers brushed against Viper’s for a brief second, and I watched the subtle flick of her tail—just the smallest, warning twitch.

“Vivi,” I warned.

“What?” They held up their hands, grinning as they backed into the corner, making room for Jin to move closer to me. “I’m being nice. Friendly, even. Look at me, so generous.”

“Generous would be leaving,” I muttered, turning back to Jin. Her eyes flicked to mine, her silent request clear. She handed me the soap and grabbed the hem of her shirt. Her movements were slow, gaze fixed on me as she pulled the fabric upward, folding it neatly before placing it on the edge of the stall. Her pants followed, and she stepped forward into the steam, her tail still holding onto my leg as she moved past Viper, dragging me with her.

The space was suddenly even smaller.

Her eyes never left mine as she lathered the soap in her palms, building it into a frothy layer before running her hands over me with the concentration of someone trying to memorize something tactile, like she was learning what clean felt like.

“Careful,” Viper said with a wide grin, leaning against the wall. “She might kick me out.”

“Don’t tempt her,” I muttered, watching as Jin’s hands moved to my chest, her touch firm but careful, like she was trying to smooth away every mark on me with her palms. Her thumbs brushed the runes on my breasts, following their curves with slow intent. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, checking for something unspoken.

“Keep going,” I murmured, leaning into her touch just slightly. Her gaze softened, a small shift, but I caught it.

“Hey, if she kicks me out, I’m the one getting cheated here,” Viper quipped, tossing their head back into the water spray with a satisfied sigh. “You know how long it’s been since we’ve had a good three-person shower? Not since Deacon’s bachelor party.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered, closing my eyes as Jin pressed herself against my chest to wash my back, craving body contact over convenience.

“You were all over me that night,” Viper added with a sly grin. “Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

I let out a long, slow breath, trying to keep my composure, but my face betrayed me as I felt the heat crawl up my neck. “That was different.”

“Different how?” Viper turned, water cascading down their back in thick rivulets, their eyes half-lidded with that same lazy confidence they’d always had. They pushed off the wall, stepping up behind me, their grin razor-sharp.

“You were drunk,” I muttered, scrubbing a hand through my wet hair. “We were drunk.”

“Mmhm,” they hummed, crowding in a little closer, their hands light on my sides, fingers curling against my waist. “And now you’re sober. So what’s stopping you this time?”

They knew exactly what they were doing, and I hated how well it worked.

“Her,” I muttered, glancing at Jin, who had gone completely still. Her eyes were locked on my friend, her tail flicking once, sharp as a whip-crack.

“Don’t worry, Succupuss,” Viper purred, raising their hands in mock surrender, though their grin never wavered. “I’m just teasing. Raku’s all yours. Mostly.” They tossed me a wink and stepped aside, swiping the soap from Jin’s hands as casually as someone borrowing a pen.

Jin’s eyes followed them, her gaze sharp and cutting, but she didn’t move. She didn’t need to. Her hands returned to me, her fingers slower this time, more intentional. Her claws were retracted, her grip firm but safe, like she knew exactly how much pressure to use.

Viper whistled low as they soaped up their arms, shooting me a knowing look. “Man, I almost feel bad for you, Rak’. She’s got you locked in tight.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, my voice thick with something between frustration and amusement.

“Not even a denial.” Viper snickered, turning their back to me and tilting their head. “Wanna get my back, Tats? Feels wrong to miss out on all our traditions.”

I rolled my eyes but grabbed the soap from their hands. Jin let me turn in her arms when I accepted. “Turn around,” I said, pointing at Viper’s back.

“Oh, I love it when you take charge,” they teased, turning with a little wiggle of their hips.

“Shut up,” I said again, but I still pressed my palms to their back, working the soap into a lather over their shoulders. Their skin was warm, rough from old scars. The familiarity of it, the routine, was almost as grounding as the feel of Jin’s touch on me.

Jin watched, her eyes flicking between us, her tail’s grip loosening just slightly. Not enough to let me go, but enough to show she wasn’t as tense. Her eyes stayed sharp, tracking every movement, but there was no hostility in it now.

“See?” I said softly, glancing at her. “This is just normal. Routine.”

Her eyes lingered on my hands as they moved over Viper’s back, watching with the intensity of someone trying to untangle a foreign language. Her fingers flexed at her sides, and I knew that she wanted to understand.

Viper glanced over their shoulder, one brow raised. “You could help, you know.”

Jin didn’t move right away, but then she reached out, one slow, deliberate hand pressed against Viper’s side. Her eyes met mine as she did it, her claws retracted, her hand steady.

“Look at that,” Viper grinned, leaning forward just a bit to give her space. “Teamwork.”

I snorted softly, my hands still moving down Viper’s spine. “Don’t start.”

“Too late,” they shot back, closing their eyes with a content sigh.

Between the heat of the water, the weight of Jin’s presence, and the easy rhythm of old routines, I felt something settle in my chest—a kind of stillness I hadn’t realized I needed.

The air was warm. The water was warm. Their touch was warm.

I leaned forward just a little, resting my forehead lightly on Viper’s back, feeling the solid weight of them under my skin. Jin’s hand pressed firm against my arm, grounding me from the other side.