Random BL One-Shots

Shadows of Vengeance

The city lights flickered in the distance, casting long shadows that danced across the deserted street where Daxter stood. His breath fogged in the cool night air as he glanced down at the photo in his hand. The faded image of Hyde's smiling face looked back at him, the memory of that happiness now tainted by a cold, unspeakable grief. It had been nearly a year since Hyde's death, but the pain hadn't dulled; it had only sharpened into a blade, cutting deeper each day.

"I'll make him pay," Daxter whispered to himself, his voice low, venomous. The words had become his mantra, his only reason for existing since that day. Since the day Vain took everything from him.

Vain, the charming and ruthless power broker who had once been his everything. What was once love had curdled into a bitter resentment, a betrayal so profound that Daxter could scarcely breathe when he thought about it. Vain had Hyde killed—there was no doubt in his mind. And now, Vain was going to die for it.

Daxter stared at the photo for longer than he should have, Hyde's warm brown eyes staring back at him. Hyde had been light in every sense of the word, the kind of person who seemed to radiate warmth even on the coldest of days. His laugh had been infectious, his touch always grounding, and Daxter had loved him fiercely. Too fiercely, perhaps. A love so all-consuming that when it was ripped away, all Daxter could feel was the gaping wound it left behind.

He could still remember their first meeting, clear as day. Hyde had stumbled into his life when Daxter had been at his lowest, back when Vain had just left him, breaking off their toxic yet passionate relationship with a cold finality. Daxter had been spiraling, drowning in a sea of self-loathing and rage when Hyde appeared, a beacon of hope he hadn't known he needed.

They had met at a little café nestled in the heart of the city an unassuming place Daxter had started frequenting just to escape the suffocating memories of his time with Vain. Hyde had been sitting at a table near the window, his nose buried in a book. He looked so peaceful, so at ease with the world, that it caught Daxter off guard. He hadn't felt at ease in years.

Daxter had taken the seat opposite Hyde without even thinking, as if pulled by some invisible force. When Hyde looked up, a slow smile spread across his face.

"You look like you could use some company," Hyde had said, his voice gentle but firm.

At first, Daxter had resisted. He wasn't in the mood for companionship, especially not from a stranger. But Hyde had this way of pulling people in, of making them feel seen, even when they didn't want to be. Slowly, over cups of coffee and shared stories, Daxter found himself opening up to Hyde in a way he hadn't with anyone since Vain.

Hyde had become his sanctuary, the one person who could quiet the storm raging inside him. But Daxter always feared that storm would eventually break. He was terrified that he would drag Hyde into the darkness with him, that he would taint the light Hyde so effortlessly carried.

And in the end, he had.

It had been a rainy night, the kind where the world felt as if it were drowning, every street slick with water and darkness. The rain hammered down in sheets, blurring the neon lights of the city and the distant hum of traffic into an indistinguishable noise. Daxter had been late. He had told Hyde to stay home, to stay safe, but Hyde had never been one to listen to orders, especially when he knew Daxter was walking into danger.

Daxter could see it in slow motion—the way the bullet tore through the air, a single moment suspended in time. Hyde had stepped in front of him. That split second would haunt Daxter for the rest of his life. It hadn't been meant for Hyde, and yet there he was, collapsing into Daxter's arms, his white shirt slowly turning crimson, the rain mixing with the blood as it soaked into the street.