For the Only One Bed Ask Meme, Gin and Akai :3
*silently creeps back into the shadows*
(For this ask meme)
Canon-typical violence and murder below the cut. Mentions of nsfw and mildly suggestive content.
Okay, so, if you somehow got Akai and Gin into a room, the single bed would be the least of their concerns. It might be relevant for all of five seconds, when Akai kicks it over to create cover that obscures his position, but that's about the end of the bed as a recognisable entity in this encounter. The poor mattress will quickly get shreddered in a hail of bullets, and the rest of the bed loses further integrity when Akai rips off one wooden leg to go after Gin when he runs out of ammo. Whoever is coming out on top of this skirmish won't be kind enough to lay the other to rest in the remnants of the bed. It has served no purpose, but to be set dressing, used and torn down at the mercy of our protagonists.
I give the poor bed slightly better odds of survival if Akai is dragged in halfway unconscious and tied to the bed so Gin can take his time and properly break him apart. However, there's a high likelihood that Akai will either break himself out of this situation, or he'll be collected by his allies. The poor bed is likely just a casualty of war.
Now, if it was Rye and Gin, the bed might actually survive. Let's assume this is some sort of safe house; if it was a hotel, first the poor clerk who booked the two princesses a single bed would get shot by Gin, and then the two BO agents would kindly evacuate the guests next door, who have a set of beds (if they go willingly and leave their valuables, they might even get to live, yay!). So, it has to be a scenario where they can't make space elsewhere; or, for some godforsaken reason, they have actually planned this.
Now, I don't think any sleeping happens here; neither of them really trusts the other, and they can't afford to show weakness. However, they might, after a few glasses of strong spirits, be comfortable - or more likely, cocky - enough to approach each other and sit down on the bed, if there aren't any more comfortable seating spots around. It's a game of chicken, at this point, escalating quickly, and neither of them is the type to back down. They play a few rounds of Russian roulette, and when they get bored of that, they settle for daring each other to drink increasingly terrible shots (Absinthe is ever popular). It's a shame that Rye is too valuable to the organisation; Gin would really, really like to see him bleed. The bloodlust is palpable between them.
Unfortunately, he'd never hear the end of it from the boss, so instead, he tries to break him. Unfortunately, Rye doesn't seem to have any interesting secrets to spill; the most Gin gets out of him is that Rye's ex is way too similar to Bourbon (ew).
He's got to make sure they don't work together often; fraternization, bonds between their operatives that are stronger than the ones to the syndicate, present a liability. They could lie and cover for each other, or try to get out, together; and Gin can't have that. Better to just nip it in the bud, and cut any avenues of communication. It's not like he sees Vermouth and her ilk much anyways, besides their occasional hook-ups (Those are different. they aren't attracted to other. Vermouth is just good in bed, that's all. If she was dead, he'd find a different way to relieve stress.)
Come to think of it... Gin escalates their little game by another level, dragging Rye in by the hair and biting his earlobe when it's in reach. Infuriatingly, the bastard doesn't flinch, instead just raking too-sharp nails across Gin's arm in response.
Alright, then. Surely the boss would only mind if he permanently damages their shiny new toy; a few scratch and bite marks just add to the charm.
As long as he's still able to walk, tomorrow, it should be fine.