The Thief to His Heart

Diamánti’s on the run yet again, though this time they’re closer to capturing him more than ever. They actually knew which bank he was going to target this time.

Just when Nectarios’ squad had arrived at the scene, he slips away yet again. Even with a suitcase of money in his possession, Dia had somehow managed to scale his way up to the roof of the bank’s building in no time flat.

With diligent speed and agility, Dia had executed a series of parkour moves before landing himself all the way over to the local art museum.

He would leap down from the rooftop, only to save himself from an almost brutal fall after snagging onto a windowsill with two of his hands. He’d then haul himself up, hop from window to window, jump down onto a nearby street pole with relative ease, and then dive over to the other side of the street in a backflip and roll.

All while getting away with the money.

And like many times before, Nectarios is the one to chase after him.

The rush of the race boils hot down Necta’s blood as he pushes himself to just go, kicking his legs into overdrive. At times, it can be difficult to run when he’s got a heavy tail lagging behind him, but he knows Dia will still be there.

He always is.

As soon as he’s forced his way into the museum, a flash of light green and blue pops up in the left corner of his eye. Without even thinking, Necta takes a sharp swerve and steers himself into an exhibition.

Dia is there, but he’s stranded. He’s trapped, cornered in the midst of all these abstract paintings.

Necta also stands in his way, presenting himself as his obstacle.

“You’re done for, Dia.” Blue flames materialize from the palm of Necta’s hand. “Surrender now or try and fight me, but you know you’ll lose.”

Dia feigns a gasp. “Oh no, how scary! Please don’t hurt me, officer!” A snort then echoes from him. “As if. Are you forgetting that I’m an Iota?”

In just one glance, the Alpha’s firepower diminishes, the warmth of his flames vanishing from his furry fingertips.

“You’re a smart cookie, y’know,” Dia purrs, in that silky voice that Necta’s heard all too well. “You’re not usually this careless. Unless you actually like having me around?”

“There’s nothing else to this.” Necta’s jawline hardens, a visible tick showing through. His forehead also creases in annoyance. “This isn’t a game. Now hand the money over or else we do this the hard way.”

To emphasize, he cracks his knuckles.

“Boooo, you’re no fun.” With the suitcase suddenly dropping to the floor, Dia surrenders his arms up, carrying out the gesture in a carefree fashion. A pout tugs on his lips, followed by an exaggerated sigh. “But fineee, you got me.”

“What?” Suspicion washes over him, hitting Necta like a large tidal wave. “Is this another one of your jokes?”

Step by step, he draws closer to where Dia stands, all four of his hands clenched into fists. His shoulders are squared, his stance defensive, his height looming over the Iota. Every nerve in his body is on edge and bracing for the worst.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” A hint of a smirk peeks through. “Sad that the fun is over already?“

“No,” comes Necta’s firm response, but the stormy look that he wears almost speaks otherwise. It lingers there for just a moment, only to then be replaced with a steely and stoic gaze. “What’s the real reason you’re doing this?”

“Well, it feels like we’ve been at this hunt forever, right?” An impish grin grows on Dia’s face. “It’s no wonder I’ve decided to take pity on you and let you win for once.”

“Shut up,” Necta shoots back. “That’s not what I meant.”

He shrugs. “Well, none of my men are outside. I can’t do much without reinforcements, now can I? Sooo, I guess the only option is to just give up.”

He punctuates that last sentence with a flare of drama and fake woe.

Necta directs a glare in his way. “If you even attempt to do anything, I won’t make things easy.”

“Aww,” Dia drawls. “You’re cute when you try and get all serious.”

Smiling, he then saunters over to Necta.

Before Necta can retort or back off, Dia grabs hold of his arm, squeezing the bicep there.

It‘s all happening so fast that Necta doesn’t even have time to shout or act out.

Dia’s hands glide up his arms, then his shoulders, and then they finally secure themselves around his neck.

The space between them also narrows in proximity, and the heat that‘s flooding Necta’s face increases in intensity. For a moment, Necta staggers back, almost tripping over his own tail, only for Dia to tighten his grip.

He doesn’t seem to be letting go anytime soon.

Necta would shove Dia away, they’re already too close, to the point where their foreheads could touch, but there’s something about his heterochromatic eyes that’s freezing him in place. The blue and green in his eyes are practically magnetic.

“You can’t do this to me,” Necta says, his voice almost as low as a whisper. He’s trying to build up resistance, but his supposedly tough tone falters. “I’m supposed to arrest—“

“Y’know, Necta,” Dia cuts off, his voice becoming sultry. “You may be cute whenever you try and act all serious, but you’re just downright beautiful whenever you look at me like that.”

Shit, not this again.

Just the sound of his name being said by him is enough to send Necta’s heart galloping like mad.

“Drop it.” With all of the courage he can muster, Necta grits his teeth and turns his head away. His cheeks still feel like they’re on fire though, the warmth in his face is ever so persistent. “I don’t look at you like anything and we’re not doing this.”

“I’m only being honest.” Dia’s face inches closer to Necta’s. “We have something special, you can feel it. There’s something electric there. Sometimes I can’t help but love the way you look at me every time we‘re stuck like this, with just the two of us.”

“I’m not...” Necta trails off, unsure of what else to say.

He’s not thinking straight right now, or at least not anymore.

Dia slides a third and fourth hand to cup both of his cheeks. Slowly, he tilts his chin down, angling it just so.

Now Necta can’t take in anything else but him.

His eyes are so bright that they’re practically a jewel of their own.

“I want you.” The husky way that Dia admits that sends sparks racing through Necta. “I want you so bad that I often wonder what it would be like if I were to taste you.”

Holy shit.

As Dia leans in, Necta’s just about to reach forward and meet his lips—

All of a sudden, a loud grunt of surprise is wrung out from Necta. The world spins, and then, before he can even register what’s going on, he’s already found himself collapsed on the ground.

At the last second, Dia had grabbed his shoulders, pulled off a back flip, and then threw him down onto the floor with all of his strength after said flip.

For someone who usually specializes in stealth and speed, the body slam that Dia did just now hurts like hell. All of Necta’s bones ache.

Just as Necta’s scrambled back to his feet, he already sees Dia with the suitcase of money in one hand and a long line of rope in the other.

A ropeway that connects from an opening in the ceiling all the way til here dangles from the clear dome structure of the museum.

If Necta squints, he can spot a group of Dia’s men sitting on the glass roof and controlling the rope like a pulley.

“Sorry, officer, but I gotta ditch.” The easygoing edge in his voice makes a return, followed by a wink and smirk. “Let’s play again some other day though. Until then.”

After a sharp tug on the ropeway to signal his escape, Dia’s body travels upward and out, leaving for Necta to stare in bewilderment.

Frustration begins to take root within him as soon as he’s realized that Dia’s disappeared once again.

Though as tempted as he is to just punch one of the art displays out of irritation right now, he also hates that a part of him still craves this.

A part of him wishes that Dia could’ve at least finished their kiss before leaving.