Rod and Steve entered Cezar's office with a mix of weariness and defiance. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the room, mirroring the tension that lingered between the three.
Cezar leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded them both with a calm yet menacing air. "So," he began, his voice smooth but carrying an unmistakable edge, "how does it feel to spend an entire week in the dark?"
Rod , slouching slightly, responded with a dry tone, "Stinks."
Steve , ever the witty one, crossed his arms and added with a hint of sarcasm, "No different, really. We're always in the dark anyway."
Rod chuckled at the remark, unable to resist. "Yeah, right," he said, drawing out the word in a mock agreement.
Cezar's expression darkened, and his voice dropped into a commanding, thunderous tone. "If you two enjoy being in the dark so much, we can extend your stay indefinitely."
Both Rod and Steve straightened instantly, the bravado draining from their faces, and they break down their tough masks.
"No! No! We just end it!" Rod blurted out, raising his hands in surrender.
"Don't, we just getting out!" Steve added hastily, his usual sass nowhere to be found.
Cezar allowed a small smirk to curl at the corner of his lips. He had their full attention now. "Good," he said, his voice settling into its usual calm authority. "Now, Steve , this is a reminder. Don't even think about running away again. Do you hear me?"
Steve sulked, his frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. Oh, how he wanted to spit every curse he could think of at Cezar's smug, hypocritical face. But he knew better. This man wasn't just powerful—he was untouchable. Cezar could do whatever he pleased, no matter how unfair or cruel, and there wasn't a thing Steve could do to stop him.
For now, the smart move was to play it safe. Swallowing his pride and biting his tongue was a bitter pill, but it was better than facing the consequences of defiance. He told himself to wait for a better chance. One day, he will be free from all this.
"Do you hear me, boy?!" Cezar's voice sharpened, cutting through the tension.
"Yes," Steve replied, barely above a whisper.
"Good." Cezar's tone softened just slightly as he shifted his attention. "Now, Rod , you may leave. I need to speak with Steve alone." He gestured toward the door, the meaning unmistakable. The thought of being left alone with Cezar sent a chill through Steve , leaving him drenched in cold sweat.
Rod hesitated, lingering for a moment. If this was about punishment, he already prepared how to stay in the room. But there didn't seem to be any hostility between the two. Still, the uneasiness radiating from Steve kept Rod rooted in place.
"Leave, and close the door tightly behind you," Cezar repeated, his tone firm.
"Umm…" Rod fumbled, searching for an excuse to stay. "Can I wait? I mean, we're partners, right?"
"Oh, is that so?" Cezar raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with mockery. "Then maybe it's time to end your partnership---"
Before Cezar could finish, Rod cut in quickly, waving his hands in surrender. "No, no need for that, sir! I'm leaving!"
With that, Rod stepped out the door, albeit reluctantly, leaving Steve alone under Cezar's scrutinizing gaze.
Cezar chuckled to himself, lighting a cigar as he studied Steve from head to toe, the smoke curling lazily around him.
After leaving Cezar's office, Rod couldn't shake off the unease creeping over him. Something about the whole encounter felt... off. But he brushed it aside. Cezar was a hero, right? What could possibly go wrong?
Needing a distraction, Rod made his way to the cafeteria. He plopped onto a stool at the bar, drawn by the sight of Charles, the cute blonde bartender, busy mixing drinks for the crowd.
It didn't take long for Charles to notice him. The boy's blue eyes sparkled as he approached, a cheerful smile lighting up his face.
"Hey, where have you been?" Charles asked, leaning casually on the counter.
Rod shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Getting punished."
Charles chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Punished? For what? Anyway, what's your drink?"
Rod glanced up at the menu board hanging on the wall behind Charles. "Beer!"
Charles arched a brow and smirked. "You're under 21, Rod . You can't drink that."
Rod grumbled and leaned back in defeat. "Fine. Then bring me a refreshing tea. Oh, and some chips."
"Tea with chips. Got it. Let me whip that up for you," Charles said, disappearing into the pantry to prepare the order.
Wait... wasn't he going to ask why I got punished? He followed Charles with his gaze, hoping for the chance to elaborate, but the blonde was already out of sight.
Just as Rod was about to let it go, someone slid onto the stool beside him. The newcomer's presence was impossible to ignore—tall, broad-shouldered, and with a face so chiseled it looked straight out of a comic book. A curtain of dark bangs fell across his forehead, giving him an effortlessly heroic look.
"Yo... if it isn't Asshunter!" the guy said, his tone loud enough to turn heads nearby.
Rod stiffened, his face darkening with irritation. He didn't need to look to know who it was. Only one person in the entire bunker community ever called him that: Archilles Hunt.
And here he was, sitting smugly next to Rod like he owned the place.
"What are you doing here, you motherf—" Rod started, his tone sharp and serious, his glare aimed squarely at Jayson. He didn't even bother hiding his distaste. Jayson's presence was enough to ruin his mood.
Before he could finish, Charles swooped in, placing a tall glass of tea and a plate of steaming hot chips in front of Rod .
"Here's your order," Charles said quickly, and then his attention immediately shifting to Jayson the moment he noticed him. His eyes lit up with excitement, and a dazzling smile spread across his face. "Jayson ! You're back! Where have you been?"
Jayson leaned back, shrugging with a casual coolness that seemed effortless. Even doing the bare minimum, he radiated charm. "Just escaped punishment," he said, his tone nonchalant.
"Really? Wow, that's so cool! Why would anyone try to punish you?" Charles asked, leaning forward slightly, his voice full of admiration.
Jayson smirked, clearly enjoying the attention. "Ah, just a misunderstanding. The captain thought I was slacking off, but turns out everything I did was flawless. No complaints now. I mean, you can't blame me if I get things done fast."
"Of course not!" Charles gushed, flipping his hair in a way that made Rod cringe. "You've got super-fast, strong, and solid hands…" Charles trailed off, his eyes locked on Jayson , his voice almost dreamy.
Rod sipped his tea, doing his best to focus on the crispy, salty goodness of his potato chips. This is exactly why I hate Jayson , he thought bitterly, eyeing the scene unfolding beside him. As usual, Jayson was hogging all the attention.
"So, when are you going to ask for my order?" Jayson drummed his fingers on the counter impatiently, clearly enjoying the control he held over the situation.
"Oh, right! Sure, what's your order?" Charles asked, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he seemed to remember he was, in fact, working.
"Beer, steamed potatoes, bread, and spinach," Jayson said smoothly, flicking his fingers in a way that came off as annoyingly cool.
"Got it! Don't move; I'll bring it to you," Charles replied, quickly vanishing into the pantry.
"But he's 18 too, just like me, and... you allowed him to have beer?!" Rod protested to Charles, but Charles didn't even bother to respond, leaving Rod feeling like a fool.
As soon as Charles was out of earshot, Jayson turned to Rod , snatching one of his chips without so much as asking. "So, Asshunter, haven't seen you in a week," he said with a sly grin.
Rod immediately shielded his bowl of chips, pulling it away protectively. "I just got punished by Cezar."
"For what?" Jayson asked, genuinely curious.
Rod shrugged. "You know my partner?"
Jayson smirked and sniffed dismissively. "Oh, you mean that tall guy with the long black hair who looks like a bitch?"
Rod froze, his smile vanishing in an instant. His grip on the table tightened as his blood boiled. "Bitch?" he repeated, his voice cold.
"Yeah," Jayson continued nonchalantly, reaching for another chip, but Rod had already shoved the remaining chips into his mouth. "Steve Edgar, right? Doesn't he sleep around with everyone in the bunker for attention? Total bi—"
Jayson didn't get to finish his sentence. Rod's fist connected with his face in a clean, devastating sucker punch, sending the larger boy crashing to the floor. Blood trickled from Jayson's nose as Rod lunged on top of him, his fists flying.
"What did you call him?! Apologize!" Rod shouted, his voice filled with unfiltered rage.
The commotion quickly drew the attention of several adults in the cafeteria, who rushed in to break up the fight. It took two people to drag Rod off Jayson , and even then, he struggled against their grip, still fuming.
The incident, unsurprisingly, landed both Rod and Jayson in the supervisor's office, where they were handed the unenviable task of cleaning the water tank on the 16th basement.
Now, the two worked together in silence, maneuvering a vacuum pole to scrub the bottom of the massive tank.
"You didn't ask why I called him that?" Jayson finally broke the silence, his voice low but still carrying that audacious edge.
"I don't need to," Rod replied coolly, keeping his focus on the task at hand. His tone was calm, but there was a warning edge to it. "People are always calling him names, thinking he's this way or that. I know it all too well."
Then Rod turned, his sharp gaze locking onto Jayson's , a piercing intensity in his eyes. "He's a sweetheart."
Jayson then show something from his phone to Rod , "oh then, can you explain these?"
Must be another bullshit! Rod muttered, rolling his eyes. He didn't want to look, but Jayson pushed the images in front of him anyway—photo after photo of Steve surrounded by other men in compromising situations.
The images is like a slap on Rod's face. It's supposed to insult Steve but instead, he's the one who get hurt.
Jayson pressed on, undeterred. "Rod , you know we get on each other's nerves, but I've never lied to you. Your partner knows the size of everyone's junk around here..."
in anger, Rod snatches Jayson's phone and crumple it as if it's a soda can.
"What are you doing?! No!! It's my phone!!" Jayson weeps over his destroyed phone and snatch it back from Rod's hand.
Rod grabs Jayson closer he is so mad. It's a bit scary for Jayson because even Rod is smaller, he is much stronger. "I warned you—if you keep this up, tomorrow they might find you floating lifeless in this tank."
"I'm telling you this because I don't want you to become one of his targets, Rod ," Jayson insisted, his tone unusually genuine.
"Me? His target?" Rod let out a short laugh. "How? I'm just a Rod ."
"Well, Billy was just a Billy too, but Steve seduced him, even though Billy looked like a blobfish. It doesn't matter who it is. All he cares about is breaking some stupid body count record. And you know why this matters? Because he's got syphilis. He's pissed about it, so now he's trying to drag everyone else down with him," Jayson said, the disgust on his face unmistakable.
"Syphilis?!" Rod snapped, his voice rising. "What's next? He's a homewrecker too?! He's a serial killer?!" He continue with more suspiciousness. "How do you even know all this? Does he know your junk's size or something?!"
"Rod , I'm serious! He tried to seduce me—it was disgusting! I dodged a bullet. And since he's your roommate, you should be careful!" Jayson's expression was earnest, his voice tinged with frustration.
Rod returned to working on the water vacuum, his movements sharp with irritation. "I've been his roommate since I was 15. He was my senior. In all the time we've worked together, I've never seen anything to suggest he's promiscuous. Flirty? Sure. But promiscuous? That doesn't add up."
Jayson crossed his arms, smirking slightly. "Alright. If I can prove to you that he's not what you think he is, will you pay for this?" He waved his broken phone as bait.
"Sure," Rod answered firmly, without hesitation.
Jayson grinned and motioned with his finger for Rod to follow him.