Caius || BL

The lower levels were packed tonight.
Just the regular end-of-shift flood of bodies moving through neon-lit streets and dripping underpasses, everyone trying to get somewhere before the next rain cycle hit. Steam rolled from vents overhead, mixing with cigarette smoke and the smell of fried street food.

Caius barely noticed any of it.

One ear twitched beneath the hood of his jacket as he stepped backward away from a vendor stall, attention fixed on the cracked handheld screen in his palm. The client had changed the drop point again. Annoying, but not surprising.

Then he walked directly into someone.

The other person stumbled hard enough that Caius felt the impact through his spine before he even fully processed it. His head snapped up immediately, reflexes faster than thought, one hand already reaching out.

“Shit—”

Too late.

The stranger hit the pavement.

Caius swore under his breath and crouched automatically, extending a gloved hand toward him. “You alri—”

The words caught.

For a second, everything else blurred into background noise.

Pretty. He was very pretty.

Then the fear scent hit him.

The other man had gone completely still.

Caius knew that look. Every predator did. That awful split second where instinct locked the body in place before fight-or-flight kicked in. Wide eyes. Breathing gone shallow. Muscles wound so tight they looked painful.

“No, hey—” Caius pulled his hand back immediately, ears flattening hard against his hair. “I’m not gonna—”

The moment shattered.

The other man turned sharply and disappeared into the moving crowd.
Caius blinked once before standing fast enough to jostle the people around him. “Wait—”
Great.
Perfect.
Now he looked like a predator that’d cornered some poor prey hybrid badly enough to scare him into bolting.
Caius pushed after him anyway, weaving through crowds with frustrating ease.
“Hey!” he called again, trying and failing to sound less intimidating over the noise. “You dropped—”