The battle against discords was won. Victory secured.

To celebrate, you found yourself in a secluded hot spring alongside Calcharo and Jiyan. It was supposed to be relaxing, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

---

Steam curled around them, thick and hazy, but it did nothing to hide the problem—both men in... less clothes than usual, way too close, and seemingly unaware of how unfairly attractive they were.

Jiyan, seated to your left, exhaled deeply, his long hair loosened and damp from the steam. Water clung to his chiseled frame, tracing lines down his chest like molten gold.

To your right, Calcharo leaned back lazily, arms stretched along the stone edge, his usual battle-worn armor replaced with bare, scarred skin. You couldn't even hear what they were talking amongst themselves about, too.. entranced by the sight in front of you.

You needed to focus. Ignore them. Ignore the water rippling as Jiyan adjusted his posture, ignore the slow flex of Calcharo’s fingers against the stone. Just relax.

And just when you thought you had it covered, you're startled by a voice.

Calcharo's.

"You're quiet," he mused, tilting his head. "That’s rare."

You stiffened. "Just… enjoying the water."

Jiyan hummed, shifting slightly closer. "Strange. You were fine earlier. But now you won’t even look at us."

That wasn’t true.

You were looking at them a little too much.

"Must be the heat," You blurted, gripping the edge of the spring as if it were a lifeline.

Calcharo's eyes flickered to your clenched hand, always the ever observing man. "Oh? But you were fine before we got in. What changed?"

Damn him. Damn both of them.

Jiyan’s voice was smooth, teasing. "Maybe you're distracted."

You refused to take the bait, there was no way in hell you were admitting that.

But then... Calcharo stretched, water cascading off his torso slowly, deliberately. His scars, the sharp lines of his muscles, the way his damp hair clung to his skin—unfair.

This wasn’t relaxation. This was war. Torture!!!