The night sky over the city was a deep, velvet indigo, but the streets were glowing with thousands of paper lanterns. It was the annual Summer Festival, and the vibe was highkey magical. The air smelled like grilled takoyaki, sweet candy apples, and the faint, lingering scent of summer rain. For anyone else, it was just a holiday. For Daisetsu and Yasuo, it was their victory lap.
The Status Quo had been completely rewritten. Daisetsu wasn't a fugitive anymore, and Yasuo wasn't just a shy baker. They were the talk of the town, the Iron & Honey duo who had survived the fire.
Daisetsu looked absolutely dreamy in a traditional dark yukata. The wide sleeves and open collar showed off just enough of his tough, muscular chest to make every person they passed do a double-take. He walked with his usual stoic protector stride, but his hand was firmly locked with Yasuo's.
Yasuo was blushing fiercely, wearing a matching light-blue yukata that made his cutie boy eyes pop. He felt like he was floating. No cameras, no blackmail, and no malicious principals. Just the primal bond between him and the man who had burned down a criminal empire for him.
"Daisetsu, look up there! The fireworks are starting!" Yasuo cheered, pointing toward the shrine at the top of the hill.
Daisetsu didn't look at the sky. He only looked at Yasuo. "The view up here is better," he rumbled, his gravelly voice making Yasuo's heart skip a beat.
They moved away from the main crowd, finding a secretive spot behind the ancient stone lanterns of the shrine. The shadows were deep, and the explosions of gold and crimson in the sky painted "metallic" streaks across Daisetsu's face. The "physical tension" that had been building all evening finally snapped.
"I have something for you," Daisetsu said. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small, heavy box. Inside was a silver band engraved with a tiny, stylized flame and a grain of wheat. A forever promise.
Yasuo couldn't even speak. He just lunged forward, his passionate nature taking over as he crashed his lips onto Daisetsu's.
The physical payoff was the most extreme yet. They weren't in a wreckage or a safe house—they were in paradise. Daisetsu backed Yasuo against a thick cedar tree, the rough bark a contrast to the nurtured softness of Yasuo's skin. He hiked up the hem of Yasuo's yukata, his possessive hands mapping out the thighs he had claimed so many times before.
"Right here, under the gods?" Yasuo panted, his voice "raw" with a mix of shock and savage heat.
"Let them watch," Daisetsu groaned. "I want the whole world to know I'm never letting you go."
He entered Yasuo with a heavy, rhythmic force that timed perfectly with the booming fireworks above. It was various and wild—a mix of deep, slow grinds and frantic thrusts that sent Yasuo's head back against the tree. The shared moment was absolute. Every time a firework exploded, the light revealed the dark, purple marks on Yasuo's neck and shoulders, the territorial history of their ride-or-die journey.
Daisetsu shifted him, lifting Yasuo so his back was against the iron-fist chest. He held Yasuo's hands, their new silver rings catching the light of the bursting stars. He bit Yasuo's earlobe, his breath hot and "obsessed."
"You're my home, Yasuo. Forever."
The grand finale lit up the sky in a blinding white glow. They shuddered together, two wounded souls finally healed, their moans lost in the roar of the celebration.
As the smoke cleared and the crowd below started to head home, Daisetsu wrapped his yukata around them both, holding Yasuo close. The huge issue was over. The savage stand was done. They were just two men in love, standing on top of the world.
The Iron-Fist and his Cutie Boy. A happy ending for them.