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Chapter 10
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2024-11-27 20:30:24The undercover job weighed between Masahiro and Matthew like an unwelcome third passenger. After leaving the shop, their next stop was Masahiro's apartment-the shared space they'd been forced into since the mission started. Masahiro parked with practiced precision outside the building. They took the elevator to the flat.
"Try not to mess up the place," Masahiro grumbled as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.
Matthew gave a mock gasp. "Mess up your sacred temple of tidiness? Perish the thought."
"You live here too, you know," Masahiro said, his eyes scanning the mess.
"I live here under duress," Matthew quipped, dropping onto the sofa. "You think I enjoy sharing space with you?
Masahiro didn't answer him but instead walked toward the hallway closet and pulled out a shiny black suitcase. He took it into his bedroom without saying a word and left Matthew to his own thoughts.
"Suitcase in the hallway closet?" Matthew called after him. "What
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Matthew stepped into the little guesthouse room, instantly filling the cramped space with his presence. He glanced around, taking in the outdated decor and the overwhelming sense of forced charm. The lace curtains, the floral wallpaper-it was like stepping into a time capsule, and not in a nostalgic way."Well," he muttered under his breath, "this is... cozy."Turning toward the bed, Matthew felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. It was a single bed. Barely large enough for one person, let alone two grown men.But what really stood out, what really caught Matthew's eye, was Masahiro, standing frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, a look of genuine horror written across his face."Are you kidding me?" Masahiro muttered, his gaze darting from the bed to the window to the walls. His hand rubbed at his forehead as if trying to make sense of the situation. "This… this can't be it."Matthew didn't say anything. He merely walked across the room, his backpack ki
Last Updated : 2024-11-28Gold & Sand Chapter 12
Matthew stood in front of the mirror in their guesthouse room, fixing his suit. The black jacket fit just right over his lean body, while his white shirt and skinny tie completed the look. He glanced over at Masahiro, who was standing by the window, arms crossed, watching the street below with his usual air of quiet intensity.“How do I look?" Matthew asked, spinning slightly, giving his reflection one last look.Masahiro turned his head just enough to glance at him, his expression flat. "Like you're about to charm the pants off someone... or get arrested again."Matthew smirked, tugging his jacket into place. "Ha ha, very funny. You should write that down, your fans will love it.”Masahiro grunted in response, turning back to the window. He shifted slightly when a faint scratching noise came from behind him. His nose wrinkled, and he shot the source a quick glance, the stray cat lounging near the bed, cleaning its paw like it owned the place.Matthew noticed and grinned. “Don’t tell
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Masahiro muttered under his breath, his mind still coming to blows with the evening's happenings as he buckled his trousers. "Ridiculous," he grumbled. "All that chaos, for what?" The tone was cutting, but his words were for himself rather than for her.Matthew wore up to his boxers nonchalantly, stretched his arms, and plopped onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, loosen up, Payne," he teased, reaching for his discarded trousers.Masahiro, now buttoning his shirt with deliberate frustration, turned his attention to Matthew. "What did you do to, to have two armed thugs on your tail?" His voice was clipped, though the edges of exasperation were softening.Matthew lolled back lazily, digging into his trouser pocket and pulling out the wallet he'd swiped at the bar. With a triumphant smirk, he held it aloft. "This," he announced, clearly reveling in his victory.Masahiro froze mid-button, staring at the wallet like it was radioactive. "We got chased be
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Masahiro awoke sluggishly, the morning sun creeping through the cracked window to warm him. His body felt oddly comfortable, not just from the sheets beneath him but from the weight resting on his chest. Blinking against the haze of sleep, he looked down, his heart skipping a beat as he realized who it was.Matthew's head was tucked against his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing a rhythm Masahiro had somehow managed to recognize. He couldn't deny the heat building between them, but it wasn't just Matthew's proximity that had him stirring. It was the sudden, undeniable pressure in his own pants.Masahiro froze, his body going rigid as his brain struggled to play catch-up.´Shit, ´ he thought.The groggy noise he made was the first warning Matthew gave before his head shifted slightly. "Morning, Detective," Matthew's voice was low, raspy, still thick with sleep as he raised his head to peer up at Masahiro with half-lidded eyes. "I didn't know you were ´this´ comfortable with me."
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Matthew was cradling the cat in his arms, its fur soft against his chest, as he stood by the door, waiting for Masahiro to finish the checkout.His eyes stayed on Masahiro, who was still up front at the desk. He watched the way Masahiro's fingers tapped lightly on the counter, a gesture so light it might have passed anyone else by. But Matthew noticed. Just as he always noticed the tight line of Masahiro's jaw when he was frustrated, or the almost imperceptible lift of his brow when he was amused.He shifted the cat in his arms, nuzzling his chin into its soft fur, and smiled to himself. Masahiro looked so composed, so thoroughly in command, but Matthew knew where the hairline fissures were in that mask. He wasn't so certain why he enjoyed picking at him, but there was something about Masahiro's infrequent moments of fragility that felt like success.It wasn't until Masahiro finally turned toward him, suitcase in tow, that Matthew didn't bother to hide his grin. He raised an eyebrow;
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It was the second night at the Tower.Masahiro adjusted his tie, taut against his neck, as he oversaw the crowd, his eyes narrowing to calculated precision. An act, a glance-they were all carefully measured, as though the weight of their investigation weighed upon every step he made.Beside him, Matthew strolled with his usual careless confidence, hands casually tucked into his pockets as though the bar were his personal domain. Masahiro couldn't help the slight clench in his jaw as Matthew's nonchalance grated against his carefully honed focus."Relax, Detective," Matthew teased, flashing that signature smirk, the one that never failed to irk him. "You look like you’re about to shut the place down."Masahiro shot him a quick glance, his tone terse. "Stay focused. We’re not here to make friends."Matthew laughed, the sound light and carefree, but with a glint of something more dangerous beneath it. "I’m focused. Don’t worry about me."Inside, the bar had lost none of its usual chaos.
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The music swelled, and Matthew executed a final, deliberate grind, his chest just brushing against Masahiro's as he leaned down, his lips hovering by his ear."Bet you didn't think I'd be this good," Matthew whispered, his tone playful.Masahiro let out a soft huff of amusement, his expression softening just slightly. "Not exactly what I expected from a petty criminal.”Masahiro tried to maintain the professionalism between them, but he could not avoid the feeling that every step Matthew took was meant to drive him crazy. Matthew's hips arced with the rhythm of the song; his body moved in just the right beat, and Masahiro found himself looking how his partner's sensuality swallowed the space around him. The crowd cheered loudly, egging Matthew on, but this time, Matthew was performing for him, Masahiro.With a confident smirk, Matthew sauntered closer to Masahiro, who sat stiffly in the chair, still fighting the attraction he was feeling, despite how much he wanted to remain composed.
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Cassidy was as striking as ever: tall, white, handsome, brown hair cascading down his neck. Light green eyes that were always filled with mischief seemed to sparkle, and the tattoos running across his arms and up his neck did nothing to dispel the aura of danger that he always seemed to project.Matthew's hand tightened on his drink; the knuckles white. The presence of Cassidy still lingered in the air, thick and oppressive. He felt branded somehow, as he always did around Cassidy.Matthew's breath caught as the memory surfaced unbidden, the image of him sitting on Cassidy's lap flickering in his mind. They were perched on the edge of a rooftop one evening, the city sprawling beneath them in a sea of lights. Cassidy had his arms around him, pulling him close as they shared a cigar. The air was thick with smoke, the flickering light from the streetlamps below casting shadows over Cassidy's face.“You're mine, you know that, right?" Cassidy's voice had been low, a command wrapped in som
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The next morning, the memory of Matthew’s indifference clung to Masahiro like a weight, sour and unresolved. He tried to drown it out by burying himself in paperwork, but every time the door creaked, or footsteps echoed in the hall, he stiffened, half-expecting Matthew to appear again.Sure enough, the door creaked open, and Matthew stepped inside, carrying a first-aid kit. He didn’t ask for permission or exchange pleasantries… just strode over to the bed and sat down, casually nodding for Masahiro to join him."Time to change the bandages," Matthew said, his voice even, flipping open the kit without looking up.Masahiro’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. His injured arm still needed attention, and as much as he hated it, Matthew was the one who had been helping him with the dressings. Without a word, Masahiro sat down beside him, feeling the tension thickening the air.Matthew started unwrapping the bandage, his fingers brushing against Masahiro’s skin. The contact sent an uncomfor
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The office of the police station was dimly lit, with papers and photographs scattered across the desk. Lewis leaned over a large map pinned to a corkboard while Matthew sat back in a chair, the tattoo map from Ridley’s back spread out in his hands.“Something’s not adding up,” Lewis muttered, squinting at the intricate details of the tattoo.“What do you mean?”Lewis tapped the edge of the map. “Look at this… this doesn’t match the area around Spiced Cherry at all.”Matthew was speechless, just staring at the map in front of him.Lewis grabbed a marker, circling a few points on the official map. “The coordinates we pulled don’t line up with the ghost brothel’s location. The Spiced Cherry and Ridley’s map lead to completely different places.” Matthew frowned, leaning forward. His fingers traced the inked lines on the image of Ridley’s
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The apartment was quiet except for the sound of Matthew returning from the market, the soft rustling of bags as he set them down on the kitchen counter. He glanced at the clock—late afternoon already. It had been a few days since Masahiro’s injury, and although things had returned to a fragile sense of normalcy, there was still an unspoken tension in the air. That strange, unnamable thing that now seemed to hang between them after their last encounter.Matthew sighed, grabbing the bottle of pills from the counter and filling a glass of water. It was time for Masahiro’s medication again, a task he had taken on without much fuss, but with a growing sense of awkwardness. The last time he’d walked into Masahiro’s room, things had taken an unexpected turn, and though neither of them had spoken about it since, the weight of that moment still lingered.He walked down the hall, knocking briefly before pushing open the door."Time for your meds," he said, his voice carry
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The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the blinds as Matthew made his way to Masahiro’s room, the routine already becoming familiar. He didn’t bother knocking this time, simply opened the door and entered."Time for your meds—"His voice trailed off as his eyes landed on Masahiro, sprawled on the bed with the sheets tangled around his legs. His face was twisted in concentration, and there was no mistaking what he was trying to do.For a moment, neither of them moved. Masahiro froze, his face flushing in both anger and embarrassment as he struggled to pull his hand away. But with one arm in a cast, he was clearly having difficulty.“What the hell, Smith?” Masahiro snapped, his voice echoing with a mix of shame and fury. He glanced down, humiliated, and tried to pull himself together, frantically covering himself with a pillow.Matthew smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. "Hey, you could’ve ask
Gold & Sand Chapter 46
Masahiro blinked awake, his vision hazy and unfocused. A dull ache pulsed through his body, especially his side where the gunshot wound still lingered. His surroundings slowly came into view, and the first thing he saw was Matthew, sitting beside the bed, arms crossed, staring at him with his usual mix of irritation and worry. But then, as his eyes adjusted more, Masahiro noticed a second figure… a familiar one. Standing just behind Matthew, with wide, worried eyes, was his cousin Yumi. "Yumi…?" he croaked, his throat dry and raspy. He felt sluggish, like he’d been run over by a freight train. Before he could say anything more, Yumi sprang forward, throwing her arms around him with such force that he winced. "Masahiro! You idiot!" she exclaimed; her voice high-pitched with panic. "Why didn’t you tell me you got shot?! Are you crazy?! I’ve been working all day and I get a call saying you’ve passed out in your apartment?!" Her words hit him in a rap
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Yumi pushed open the bedroom door and immediately went to Masahiro’s side. Matthew watched her with a quiet unease as she knelt down beside him, her eyes scanning his body with practiced precision.There was a tenderness in the way she touched him… checking his pulse, brushing his hair away from his face. Her hands moved with an efficiency and familiarity that Matthew could not ignore.“Is he...?” Matthew started, his voice almost a whisper.Yumi didn’t look at him as she worked. She didn’t need to. She knew what she was doing.“He’ll be fine,” she replied curtly, but her gaze lingered on Masahiro’s face, and there was something more there… something that Matthew couldn’t quite place. Was it concern? Or something deeper?She finally turned to him, her eyes narrowing. “Why are you here?”Matthew blinked, thrown off by the directness of the question. “I
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Matthew stood frozen in place, his heart hammering in his chest as he stared down at Masahiro’s crumpled form. The man who always had his cool, who could outsmart and outmaneuver anyone, was now lying motionless, unconscious on the floor. His mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in frantic chaos.´What the hell am I doing? ´His stomach churned as he tried to suppress the rising tide of panic, but it surged anyway. Every time he tried to convince himself that it was nothing more than a drunken stumble, his eyes betrayed him… Masahiro’s pallor, his stillness, the way he hadn’t even made a sound when he collapsed, rattled him.´Focus, ´ Matthew ordered himself, gripping Masahiro’s body and lifting him up, adrenaline surging through him, making the task seem easier than it should have been. It was a strange contrast, the sharpness in his limbs despite the dizziness threatening to overpower him.
Gold & Sand Chapter 43
Matthew lounged on the couch in the living room, the flickering glow of the television illuminating his face as he scrolled through channels mindlessly.The sound of Masahiro´s door´s room creaking open drew his attention. Masahiro stepped out of his bedroom, and despite the cast encasing his right arm, he looked stunning. He wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and trim waist, the fabric hugging his toned physique perfectly. The dark shirt was paired with dark blue slim-fit jeans that showcased his long legs and made him look effortlessly stylish. His black boots added an edge to the outfit, while a minimalist silver watch on his left wrist gleamed subtly against his skin. The overall effect was striking; he exuded an air of confidence that was impossible to ignore.Matthew raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Where do you think you’re going?”Masahiro paused, casting a glance over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “That’s n
Gold & Sand Chapter 42
Matthew entered Masahiro’s room, carrying a tray of food with deliberate care. He placed it on the nightstand, his gaze flickering to Masahiro, who was lounging in his chair, staring blankly out the window.“Dinner’s here,” Matthew said, trying to keep his tone neutral.Masahiro didn’t even glance at him. “I’m not eating that,” he muttered.Matthew blinked, his jaw tightening. “What do you mean? It’s what you asked for.”“I don’t want it.” Masahiro’s voice was clipped, dismissive.Matthew’s patience was already running thin. “You need to eat,” he said firmly. “The doctor said—”Masahiro cut him off with a sharp laugh, humorless and bitter. “I don’t care what the doctor said. I’m tired of being treated like some invalid. I’m not helpless, Smith.”The words struck a nerve. Matthew folded his arms, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think I want to be here, catering to you?” he shot ba
