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Big shouldn't be in the gym this late. It's not against the rules—not technically, not for him—but he still shouldn't be here.
Because it doesn't help. His knuckles throb from the impact against the punching bag, his muscles burn from exertion, sweat beads at his forehead—and his mind still spins with the words Kinn said to him, hours ago.
You're not ready to return to duty.
The growl starts in his chest, burns his throat like a scream might. He bites down on it, holds it fast.
"Big?"
He whips around, fists raised—
And quickly drops them when he sees who it is.
"Sir." He bows his head awkwardly, face hot, heartbeat thrumming wildly in his chest for more reasons than one. Of all the people to find him here, it had to be Chan. "I'm sorry."
A pause, then— "Why are you sorry?"
"I don't—" Big flounders. "I don't know."
He hears Chan step closer, that near-silent stride of his still hindered by the lingering effects of the minor family's attack. A knee brace still wraps around his left leg, invisible under his tracksuit, but Big knows it's there.
His chest tightens, breath thin in his lungs. The anger drops away. He shouldn't be self-pitying like this. He isn't the only one who was hurt. Chan hasn't been cleared for duty, either.
"Look at me."
At the command, his gaze lifts to Chan's. He expects anger, disappointment, maybe—not the penetrating look Chan gives him as he takes another step closer, until they're within touching distance. Big can't help the way his breath catches, his whole body going taut with awareness.
Something shifts in Chan's expression, something that tells Big that he noticed. Electricity races over his skin.
"I know you want to go back. But you need to take care of yourself," Chan says. He pauses, throat bobbing as he swallows, and his words turn soft. "You can't get hurt like that again."
The words hit like a lightning strike, a flash of brilliant pain at the center of Big's chest. In another place, from someone else, they'd feel like criticism, but here, now—they feel like a confession. One that Big has been waiting to hear.
He can see Chan's breath rising and falling, carefully controlled. Always so careful.
But Big can't be. He can't help the way he sways forward, his body drawn to Chan's like it has been for months. He steps into Chan's space, his hands grasping his jaw, curling around the back of his neck.
Chan's pulse races under his palm, betraying his calm expression.
He grabs Big's shoulders tightly, like he's ready to throw him, but he only draws Big closer, until they're pressed up against each other. A challenge, one that Big is ready to meet.
"I won't," Big croaks, voice unsteady. He licks his lips, Chan's gaze intent on his mouth in a way that makes him feel unsteady. "If you won't, Chan."
"I promise."
It's not something either of them can say for sure, but he can taste the truth on Chan's lips as he finally leans in and kisses him.