06: The Small Things

Nico can't think straight, he's panicking. He's plastered in a chair slid right into the corner, splayed defensively against the back of it as if he's a giant fluffy spider, and not a precocious red panda. It's a small room, and the mechanised jackal that dragged him in has already left them alone, apparently deciding that this small, anxious young man is no great threat.

They could still be out there though, hiding, waiting. The room is ordinary, a normal size for a waiting room, or maybe it's an office. Despite this, the walls are closing in, each one of Nico's tight gasping breaths coming like an explosion to his ears.

Alaska is watching him from across the room, lounging on a wide seat with one booted foot crossed and on his knee. Nico finds himself drawn in by the tiny details of the wolf, obsessing over the minutia, his brain dissecting the larger picture, breaking it up. He doesn't see a handsome, mysterious, intimidating wolf sitting there, no; he sees a lean grey tail, tiny streaks of white shooting up the underside. He sees rippling synthetic fur and a bunching of cargo pants. He wonders what's beneath the pants. Jalan is the only other man Nico has slept with, and he's only seen a scattering of other men naked before, he has no frame of reference for comparing sheaths. There was one time he saw Bryce nude after a sauna trip, and when he was a teenager there were of course the other students in the locker rooms, though in his memory the faces are mostly reduced to muffled giggling as Nico turns away, desperate not to get hard in front of the other boys again.

There's a gun on the table next to Alaska. He only sees it now, and like before, his brain segments it, cordons it off where the knowledge can't hurt him. When a functioning brain sees a gun, it's a realm of possibility. Instantly images of death and violence are conjured, tiny strings connecting weapon to user to threat. Nico's running with a skeleton crew, and so he makes no connections. He sees a flat piece of metal, the slight tang of its stink brushing against his nostrils.

“Here, drink this," Alaska says, passing Nico a glass of ice water. His voice is piercing loud in the heavy silence, so much so that Nico flinches away from it. In the pulling of lips and the falling of ears Nico reads shame and regret, two emotions he is more than well acquainted with. He quickly breaks eye contact, sipping the water, grateful for something to occupy his paws. Alaska keeps speaking, though Nico's ears adjust this time. “I thought you would like it, I didn't mean to scare you. The first time I ever came to a rally like that, I was amazed. All those people, everyone feeling hurt and angry and ready to do something, so many like me, people who understood."

“Why me?" Nico's voice is softer than he was expecting. He's only aware he's spoken after Alaska meets his eyes, his usual cocky affect now nowhere to be seen. Nico shakes his head. “Never mind. It doesn't matter, the answer will be the same. I should never have come here." Shifting the glass of water into his other paw, Nico digs into his pocket, fingers finding the business card and hexadryne patch that Alaska gave him when they first met. Nico pulls them both out and drops them at his feet. “I don't want this stuff. It's just incriminating."

Alaska's face folds, and he bends to pick them both up. “You still have them, huh?" The grey wolf sucks in a breath, as if collecting himself. He gives Nico a sharp look. “Ahab isn't your enemy, and neither am I. You're not a prisoner here, Nico."

Nico laughs, can't help it. Not a prisoner, but not allowed to leave, yet. His laughter dies as a muffled voice barks an order outside the small room, and Alaska straightens his back.

One heartbeat later and the door swings inward, the velvety black panther that was leading the rally flowing in like a shadow. He's lost his cloak, and is now only wearing some basic worker trousers and a button-up with rolled sleeves. Nico tries to shrink further into the couch, hoping he won't be seen, hoping the looming figure will just forget about him, just leave. His head is filled with images of the panther teleporting, exploding from stage to crowd in the blink of an eye.

How? How did he do that?

“Nico Mercier, it's good to finally meet you." Ahab's voice is thick and bass, filling the room with power and confidence. His words come out even deeper than when he spoke on stage, and he has an odd accent that Nico can't quite place – elongating each of the vowels, as if sampling the taste of his name, indulging in it. “Alaska has only told me good things, but still, I always reserve judgement for myself."

“Yeah," Nico splutters, unsure what else to say.

“What did you think of my speech? I know it errs toward the melodramatic, but when you're speaking to an audience I've always found it more effective to go bigger."

“It was very moving," Nico mutters, looking down at his feet. “I... I don't think it's for me though."

“I won't preach to you, Nico," Ahab begins. “I suspect you already know what I would say. You've seen yourself how they trade, selling skin, selling God, they don't care if we can afford it, they don't care about anything but those four digits at the end of our credit account. Our politicians, if you can still call them that, tell us 'say no to drugs', all the while getting paid for wars in Italy, South America, any backwater third world nation state they think the so-called middle class won't kick up a fuss over." The panther pauses there, licking his lips as if considering his next words. “I said I won't preach and then here we are. Force of habit, I'm a passionate man." He gave an awkward chuckle.

“It's no use though," Nico cringes as he realises that the words came from his lips. “You can't fight them." Ahab gives him a questioning look, but it isn't accusatory. Something about the man is disarming, and Nico finds he wants to say his piece, he wants to be honest and open. He takes another sip of the ice water, then glances over to Alaska.

A relaxant? Or am I just paranoid?

“What do you mean, it's no use?" Ahab asks him, leaning on the bench opposite Nico's seat.

“I mean," Nico shakes his head, and the words come tumbling out. “The Big Five are so powerful, too powerful. They're unstoppable, they buy and sell lives like it's nothing. I don't understand what you plan to do, because everyone wants to be rich, everyone wants this world, so long as they're at the top! If you protest by stopping work, they'll make it illegal to not work, or they'll import refugees from Italy that work for a fifth of the price, non-citizens that can't complain when their co-workers go missing! They own ICE, they own the feds, they own the fucking White House, we're powerless!" Nico's shaking, and he forces himself to put the glass of water down. He stands, brushing himself down, blushing at the outburst.

“How would you propose we fix things, then?" Ahab asks, cocking his head. It's almost fatherly, affectionate and questioning without being condescending. He genuinely wants the answer.

“I don't know," Nico says, throwing an empty paw to the void. “Vote out corrupt politicians? Non-violent protests?" Even as he says the words he realises how childish and naïve they sound. “Maybe, change it from the inside?"

“Fighting fire, with empty words." Ahab steps forward now, closing some of the distance between him and Nico. “The issues we face in this country are systemic, Nico. They don't stem from any one person or cabal, you could replace every politician with another and have the exact same result, because it's the system that's broken, not the people. That's why you can't vote for good politicians, because there are no good ones, you can't be successful in politics without taking bribes, their glass ceiling is far too low. Change from the inside is likewise impossible. As I said back in the warehouse, I achieved a modicum of success in the corporate ladder of this city, mostly due to my... abilities. But even so I walked a tightrope, always one bad day away from failure – I was as powerless as anyone. The poor stay poor, while the rich get rich. If anyone seeks to upset that equilibrium, they cut us off at the knees."

“We have to overthrow it," Alaska said, startling Nico into remembering he was here. “Turn their own weapons against them, burn it to the ground. If everything goes well, set Anchor City up as an independent anarchic state."

Nico gives the wolf a look, wildly confused. “They'll invade you."

“Alaska is talking years into the future." Ahab raises a calming paw. “We are strong and getting stronger, but these things take time. For now, I would be content with ridding the world of the likes of men like Reverend Luther, or Yuri Kisaramoto."

Nico's ears perk up, his mind instantly going back to that dreadful board room meeting. Bryce, Olaf, Ferguson, all of Yuri's cronies giggling and laughing as they sentenced a scared little girl to a quiet, lonely death.

“Yuri... Kisaramoto? You know him?" Nico asks, unable to help himself. He's dreamed of that scaly bastard every night since they condemned Monzy Thessler. The one good thing he tried to do, the one time he attempted to change the system from within, and it only made things worse.

That's what Ahab means, it's systemic, unstoppable.

“Aren't you curious why we came to you?" Ahab asks, folding his arms. “You're a tether with great potential, Nico, I can feel it. You work deep in the Northpoint system, but not so deep you've been corrupted. Didn't you just receive a promotion? One that keeps you closer to Yuri?"

“How, how do you know that?" Nico stammers. Suddenly he wonders if this is an elaborate trap. Maybe these people work for Northpoint, and they just lured him here to crush him.

“And, you're a good person." Alaska's voice is calm, close. Nico takes a step back and finds himself bumped up against the broad wolf. It's like touching a brick wall, he's so strong and stalwart. Alaska puts one paw gently onto Nico's arm, and the panda doesn't pull away. It feels nice, and Nico's heart cries out at just how badly he needs it, needs to be touched, to be cared for. “You don't want to hurt people; you came tonight because of that. You know this world is wrong, and you can do something about it."

“I don't know what you think I can do," Nico mutters. “I'm not anything, I'm just some insurance rep." Unbidden, his thoughts go back to Jalan. To how sweet and pitying the man was with his rejection. The pathetic sympathy sex he offered afterwards. He quickly pulls free of Alaska's grip, cheeks red with shame beneath his thick fur.

Is he really considering helping them? He doesn't even know what they want. And Yuri Kisaramoto is untouchable, a big fish, one far too gorged and fat for a tiny worm like Nico to capable of hurting.

“I want you in my army, Nico." Ahab's closer now, his face serious and indomitable. “You can get close to Kisaramoto, you can get him alone."

“And then... what?" Nico asks, though - of course - he already knows the answer. “I can't..." It's hard to even say it. “I can't kill him."

Ahab spies him glancing at the gun next to Alaska. The panther quickly splays his palms, shaking his head. “No, no, I don't mean that, I would never ask you to do that." Ahab nods to Alaska, who quickly scoops the weapon up and slips it into the back of his waistband. Nico lets out a shaky, shuddering breath, the edges of his eyes hot with the threat of tears. “Hey, hey it's okay," Ahab says gently, laying one big paw on the red panda's back. Suddenly his imposing voice is soft and rounded, comforting, like a teacher. “This is what I'm talking about." And he holds up a small vial a few inches from Nico's face.

“Oh," He blurts, reaching out a trembling paw to take it. Ahab lets it go, and Nico turns it in the fluorescent light. It's about half-filled with a fine teal coloured powder, like a collector's exotic sand. “What is it? Is it poison?"

“Of a fashion," Alaska mutters, earning a glare from Ahab.

“No, it isn't poison," the panther replies, taking his paw from Nico's back and stepping away. “You see, Yuri Kisaramoto is a very paranoid man, and with good reason. The corpo higher-ups are always treading a thin line, risking assassination from both their own colleagues, as well as sabotage or worse from rival corporate enemies. Their rat-race is as cutthroat as ours, in many ways."

“Kisaramoto is old," Alaska added, leaning against a bench. “He's gotten that luxury by being very secretive, and very good at what he does, and only letting a select few people close. Your friend Bryce, that was promoted? Kisaramoto probably had his eye on him for years now, silently vetting him before even beginning to float the idea of a promotion. The threat is real, and he is always watchful." Nico swallows, a little shocked at how much they know.

They must have other moles inside Northpoint, he realises. He'll never be able to sit down to work without looking over his shoulder again. Any one of them of them could be a Leviathan agent, lying in wait, watching, listening. They really are everywhere.

But there's a big difference between floors like Nico's, and the levels people like Yuri Kisaramoto have reached. You can't get close to his rank without connections and luck, a kind of generational success, but passed down via informal adoption as opposed to traditional inheritance. Not for the first time, Nico feels sick by just how incestuous the whole thing is. Friends helping friends helping friends, promotions in exchange for favours, bribes and extortion are the currency of the upper class, and fuck the little guy.

Can you make up your mind about what you want already? Nico's gut is torn, twisting in every direction. He can barely think.

“Every meal he takes is screened, checked by his own servants. He is never without at least four armed guards, and keeps a psychonaut on personal retainer," Ahab says.

“Pray you never meet her. Castillion is an ice-hearted bitch." Alaska shivers.

“What do you want?" Nico asks, hearing how defeated he sounds but not caring. He just wants to go home. Helping Leviathan... it all seems like too much, and an inevitability all at once. The way Ahab is talking, it's like he's already agreed to do it.

Haven't you? You're still here, after all.

“I can't get close to Kisaramoto either!" Nico protests. “I've only seen him a few times, and the one time that I was in the same room as him, I was surrounded by other people and at the opposite end of the table."

“And being watched the entire time," Alaska notes. “It's difficult, but that's why we need someone in your position."

“Nico," Ahab pushes, stepping closer. “We need to know what Kisaramoto is doing. Where he goes, who he meets with, we need to track him. People like him are killing us, siccing his fucking pet psychonaut on us, poisoning our children, all to reach his bottom line. But this, this," and he pointed at the small vial still in Nico's paw. “It can change everything. It's nanotechnology we stole from a Strandtech shipment, it's undetectable once it gets in his blood, and it lets us track his movements, monitor his habits. Men like him, they're invisible on paper, on a completely different grid to the rest of us, but this can change that, it gives us an edge."

Nico stares into the teal powder. “It just tracks him?"

“That's right," Alaska says, stepping closer, his expression firm and almost protective, though if it's intended for Ahab or himself, Nico can't tell. “It dissolves in liquid, tasteless and traceless after only four seconds. Once he ingests it it'll make residence in his bloodstream, and whenever he passes by a jacked signal we've installed, it'll fill us in on his routines, his patterns, his connections."

“We cannot get close to him without this," Ahab confirms. “And the world would be better off without men like Yuri Kisaramoto in it. You know that, in your core. I can see it in your eyes. Please, will you help us Nico?"

“I..." Nico stutters, “I don't know. Even if I wanted to, I can't get close enough to do that."

“Ah, we're ahead of you again." Ahab grins wickedly.

Alaska pulls up an entoptic screen, the display projecting against the wall as it syncs up with the implants lining each of their eyeballs. Nico sucks in a gasp as he realises it's a photo Bryce. “Kisaramoto is paranoid, hard to track, but your buddy is the opposite story, he hasn't made it high enough up the ladder to get that careful. Getting a hold of his schedule was a piece of cake." He made a quick swiping gesture, and Bryce's photo slid away to reveal a calendar filled with notes and markers. “Three weeks from now, Bryce and Yuri are travelling to the east coast, into one of the old Canadian states." Nico nods. They'll be going to what used to be Canada, at least, before the Russian collapse sent the world into an economic tailspin. During the crisis, the corpo puppet masters that ran the United States took the opportunity to 'help Canada out' of their exponential debt, annexing most of the country's usable land in the process. The Canadians themselves had been offered new citizenship, or pithy relocation fees to the what little remained of their native country.

A map has replaced the entoptic calendar now, and Ahab is pointing to a small red dot on the eastern coast, near a state labelled as Old Nova Scotia. “They're visiting a small and dilapidated town a few hours out of Halifax. The city itself is mostly refineries and assembly lines now, but we think Kisaramoto wants to turn the village into a blacksite testing ground. He's using the trip to schmooze the town landowners, as well as doing his final assessment of Bryce."

Alaska shrugs. “And 'course, they'll be too poor to be able to turn a company like Northpoint down, especially after their refineries upriver in Halifax poisoned all their fish and wildlife with runoff, killing the small income they made off tourists wanting to get away from the big cities without really going bush."

Ahab turns back to Nico, who is feeling smaller and smaller by the moment. He can feel the weight of their expectations piling on him like snow, the mounting pressure pushing him to buckle. “You need to get on that visit, Nico. Suck up to Bryce, beg the opportunity from him. Kisaramoto will use this to cement your little friend as part of his boys' club. There'll be drinks, whores, it'll be messy – and Kisaramoto thinks that nobody will know he's out there, none of the players have moles in a shitty grey town like that. Plenty of chances for you to slip the Strandtech nanopowder into one of his drinks."

Nico inhales, letting the air fill his lungs gradually, stretching his chest out as his heart beats in his ear. Mercifully, Ahab and Alaska give him the moment to think. “That's all I have to do?"

From Nico's side Alaska nods, his fuzzy grey face wearing a smile, his pale green eyes catching the light. “That's it, just get on the trip, and drop that in a drink once he's already good and drunk."

“I don't know," Nico says. He feels like he's in shock, too stunned to do much more than gawk and stutter.

“This is what you've wanted," Ahab whispers, coming up and taking Nico's paw. He closes the red panda's fingers around the vial with his own, the grip firm. “A way to hit back. A way to hurt them. And they'll never know it was you, how could they?"

Nico nods. The decision isn't really his to make. He needs this. So much has gone wrong, with Jalan, and then Monzy Thessler, and even this damn rally he should never have come to. What else has he got going on? Nothing. No point. With a short whimper, he realises that Jalan was the thing keeping him going. He was always in Nico's mind, a future goal, something to strive toward. And now... what? Buying Mother's pills? Decorating his new office? Becoming like Bryce so he can rise through the Northpoint ranks?

He closes his eyes, and sees Monzy Thessler. She's on a hospital bed in a large warehouse filled with overfull pens and cages. Nico has no idea if that's what a sick child's accommodation would be like under ICE's care, but he can't imagine it's anything too comfortable. In his mind, she's handcuffed to the bed, fur wilting and falling out, eyes sunken in, voice hoarse as she begs them to bring her mummy and daddy back because she's scared. But they can't come back, Nico thinks, eyes watering. Because I helped send them back to Italy.

“Okay," he says, startled at how resolute his voice sounds. He doesn't feel resolute, he feels like a bag of jelly. “Okay, I can do that. If you promise he won't find out."

“That's it my boy, you're a brother now." Ahab squeezes his shoulder, and Nico only nods. “Welcome to Leviathan."

He's in a daze as Alaska takes him by the wrist, leading him back out the way they came. Outside the rally crowd is gone, along with any trace of the large gathering. The night air is chilly, only a few hours off dawn now, with light sprinkles of rain pattering down and dotting their fur.

“Let me take you home," Alaska says, leading them toward a rail station. Nico shakes his head, but the wolf stays by his side, his grip slipping down from Nico's wrist and squeezing his paw. The red panda just lets it be, grateful for the small comfort.

The two are quiet as they climb the stairs and board the rail, which is as close to empty as counts in Anchor City. Every booth seat is taken, but the end of the carriage has a small alcove the two can stand in without being disturbed. Clancy's AI has come back online, and he lets Nico know they're on an express service, and will reach his stop in twenty-seven minutes.

“Are you feeling alright?" Alaska asks, as they're crossing the bridge Nico first met him on. The wolf had been sitting on the guardrail, reclining out over open air, propped up only by his formidable tether abilities. The old quarry that Nico's apartment block is built in is dark and silent, so shadowed in the night he can't even see the far side. In the gloomy rain-speckled air it makes Nico think of a giant maw, opening up to swallow all his hopes and dreams and good intentions.

“I think so."

“Here," Alaska grabs his paw, pressing a thumb into Nico's palm. Clancy gives a short chime in the panda's ears and Alaska pulls away. “Now you have my info. We use a French program called Rhapsody to stay in touch. It has round trip encryption, and the company has as few ties to any of the Big Five as we could find." Alaska cranes his neck, catching Nico's distant gaze. “Just in case you wanna talk, alright?"

“I... I know the way now." Nico presses the button on the elevator to take him down. “I'll be okay, thanks."

“I'll come anyway," the wolf replies. “I got nowhere to be, and I feel guilty for dragging you back inside. I'm sorry... but I thought you needed to hear what Ahab had to say."

Nico watches the wolf a moment. But are you being nice to me so I do what you want, or because you actually care? He refuses to even let himself entertain any thoughts of this being genuine. He can't take another embarrassment like with Jalan, can't bear the shame of being so stupid. No, you just want to make sure I don't off myself before I can poison my boss for you.

Nico leads Alaska silently down the lift and to his apartment, not sure what else to say. The wolf follows quietly, eyes open as they pass by the graffiti-covered concrete walls of each identical apartment block, and the snoring homeless fit between them, who have cardboard and garbage for blankets. Nico's gotten so used to it, that it takes watching Alaska notice them makes him remember they're even there.

Finally, they reach his building, and take the empty elevator up to his floor. Nico cringes as he unlocks the front door and hears Mother's voice, wailing down the halls from her room.

“Nico?! Nico, where are you, baby?! Come here! Don't be a spoiled brat, please? Please, please Nico baby I'm scaaared," the words flit between fury and sobbing childishness. Nico's face burns as, caught halfway through the front door, he realises that Alaska can hear her too.

“You don't have to come in," he says, seeing that Alaska is making the move to follow him through the door.

“Can I?" He looks unfazed the pathetic mewls of Mother, and so against his better judgement Nico shrugs, ushering Alaska inside as quietly as he can.

“My room is just there," he whispers, pointing to his door. “I'm not allowed to have any people over, so just wait there while I tend to her. Be back in a minute."

Alaska nods and lets himself in, tip-toeing like a ghost. Swallowing his sour misery, Nico creeps up to Mother's room, where she's sobbing wordlessly in her sagging harness.

“Mother, are you alright?" He asks gently. Her body flinches, and she turns her head toward him like a whale, the virtual headset still strapped to her skull. She can't see him but she knows he's there. “Night terrors again?"

“No!" She spits venomously. “I'm not bloody alright, I woke up here, terrified out of my wits, and what do I find? Myself, screaming for help for hours, and you aren't here! Nico, my baby, it's nearly four in the morning, where have you been?" She pauses. “Or have you been here the entire time? Sitting in your room, looking at those nasty things and hating me? Hating your own mother, how could you? I'm a sick woman Neek, very sick, I can't help how scary the dreams get, I can't help what they did to me and I don't need you being ungrateful so that I--"

“Hush, Mother, I'm here now," Nico deftly interjects, sliding the words between her laboured breaths, knowing if he doesn't stop her she'll just work herself up into even greater hysterics. He moves to her hanging feet and readjusts the straps, checking the recently burst contact sores and massaging the bottom of her soles the way she likes. The pads of her feet are almost entirely soft fur draped over flabby skin, weak and limp from lack of use. “I couldn't sleep, so I went for a bit of a walk. But I wasn't gone very long, only twenty minutes."

“But I've been screaming for you for hours!" Mother whimpers, though Nico can tell she's past the rage and panic.

“You must have been dozing in and out, that's all," he offers. Standing from her feet, he goes to the cabinet and pulls out a small container of pills. “Here, you must be in pain right? Your joints again, I bet?"

“Yes, very, a lot of pain, so much." Nico grimaces, crushing up her pills into a small bottle of diluted cordial. He briefly wonders what would happen if he put four or five times the recommended dosage in. She'd die, of course, but would they bother with an autopsy? Or would the investigator walk into the room, and feel so disgusted by the smell and the sight that he immediately wrote it off, dismissing the no doubt distraught red panda boy as a suspect? It'd probably take ten people and hydraulic lift to get her out of the apartment, would the morgue have a body bag big enough, or would they just take her in the open like that? He quickly banishes the thought, but not before enjoying what his home might be like without Mother crowding it. She stays in her room pretty much all of the time, and yet somehow her presence still manages to fill every inch of the apartment. It's in pizza boxes and coke bottles, empty medication packets, discarded magazines she doesn't read but won't throw away, a metric ton of virtual reality toys, the list goes on.

“Oh, thank you baby, I need that, it hurts so bad you know, and I was so scared, from the terrors." Her mouth opens and closes rhythmically as she waits for Nico to put the thick easy-sip straw into her mouth.

“Of course Mother, the night terrors," he assures her, rubbing her back as she sucks greedily at the sugared water mix.

When she finally calms down, Nico returns to his bedroom, quietly shutting the door. When he turns around he finds Alaska standing over his (single) bed, studying the shelves Nico put up to display the mecha sets he's built. Right now Alaska's looking at the Dalton-Maltese Falcon Defence-Launcher AU, a red and navy patterned space mech fashioned like a futuristic knight with colossal wings and rocket boosters, his giant ultra-greatsword (wielded with one robotic arm) ending with the barrel of a howitzer.

“That one was really complicated to build, it took me nearly three weeks," Nico admits shyly, sitting down on his office chair. Alaska looks back, an amused grin on his lips. “I know it's lame, but it's something to do..."

“I think they're cool," Alaska says. Nico searches the words for any hint of sarcasm, and finding none, shrugs. His face is all hot and he feels so flustered. He's never had a boy in his room before. The idea of disobeying Mother like this makes it exciting, and Nico has to push his knees together and lay his paws over his lap, lest Alaska realise he's gotten a little too excited in there.

“I forgive you, by the way," Nico blurts out, biting his bottom lip. “It's okay. I just... panicked during the rally."

“I'm glad to hear that," Alaska replies, walking over. Nico cringes as he pulls the gun from earlier out from his waistband, laying it on Nico's desk with a short click. “Here. I want you to hold onto this, just in case."

“In case of what?"

Alaska sighs, falling onto the unmade bed. He notices a pair of discarded underwear on the floor and chuckles, much to Nico's burning chagrin. “In case of anything," he says after a moment, his tone more serious than his expression. “If you get into trouble, on this trip or after it, you've at least got something to back you up."

“I don't even know how to use it." Nico glances at the weapon, smelling the metallic tang of it once again. It's squarish, a long barrel with vented sides and a textured grip.

“Yes you do," Alaska rolls his eyes. “You've played video games, and you've definitely seen movies. It's loaded, so just rack the slide on top and squeeze the trigger, that's it. It's got dampeners, but it'll still kick, so only pull the trigger once."

“Okay," Nico replies, laughing awkwardly.

“Just be careful. I mean it, if you get to this village outta Halifax and something feels off, don't do it. Don't put yourself in more danger than you can handle, alright?"

“I won't, don't worry."

“Good. I've... look, don't hate me," Alaska begins, rubbing at the back of his neck with a slightly embarrassed look. “But I've been watching you for a while now, vetting you, I mean, to see if you'd be a good fit for Leviathan. I think you're a good guy, really, and I'd hate to see you get hurt."

Nico takes the gun, surprised by the weight of it, and places it one of his drawers, hiding it beneath the Maltese-Dalton instruction manual. “I'll be safe, don't worry."

“I should probably go, it's late as." Alaska slaps his legs, pushing off from the bed and blowing air from his cheeks. “Just wanted to make sure you got home alright, but now I've seen your room, and your underwear, so I'll head out." Nico's face somehow gets even hotter, and his voice locks up even as he starts some lame excuse. Alaska brushes past it, that cocky grin returning to his face. “You got the vial?"

Nico nods, standing as well, unsure what to do with his limbs and feeling more than awkward. “I do, yeah," he says, cringing at the sound of his own voice.

“Alrighty, well, install Rhapsody and message me when you get some free time, make sure we got the details right."

“I w--" Nico swallows away the voice crack, shaking his head. “I will, yeah."

Alaska ignores the fault, stepping over and pulling Nico into a tight hug before he can say anything. The red panda freezes, realising that he's now pressed front-to-front with the tall wolf, and that Alaska can definitely feel the erection he's got pressing into the crease of Alaska's crotch. He briefly wonders what the wolf's own is like, and despite the shame and regret he's feeling, grinds his hips in ever-so-slightly.

It does feel so good to be hugged though, and after a moment Nico forces himself to ignore his dick and close his own paws onto Alaska's back, relaxing into the embrace.

“Be safe," the wolf says, holding tight another moment and inhaling.

“I will," Nico says, just enjoying the sensation of being squeezed. “Or at least, I'll try."