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Chapter 136
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2025-01-30 10:30:31Cassidy stepped through the door of the apartment at 9 AM, his shoes making little sound as he entered the quiet space. The world outside was still waking up, but for Cassidy, his day had already started. He didn’t need much sleep, and there was work to be done.
He went to the room and stepped through the door, the faint scent hitting him before anything else. It wasn’t his cologne—or Matthew’s. No, this was different. Subtle but unmistakable.
Masahiro.
His lips curled into a sneer as he closed the door behind him, slowly, he turned his gaze toward the bed where Matthew lay sprawled under the covers, his face peaceful, his breaths steady.
Disgust twisted in Cassidy’s gut, ‘He didn’t even bother to shower.´
The sight of him, so vulnerable and unaware, made Cassidy pause for a moment, a cold smirk tugging at his lips. It was almost too easy. Matthew's biggest flaw had always been his deep sleep, a fact
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Gold & Sand Chapter 137
Nathaniel stood by the window, his back against the cool glass, watching the crowd outside with a cold, calculating gaze. The club was alive with movement, the energy thick with laughter and music, but he was focused… he always was.His fingers toyed with the edge of his phone, flipping it over in his hand, the familiar weight of it grounding him.Across the club, the front door swung open. Nathaniel’s eyes immediately locked onto the figure that entered… the unmistakable posture of Masahiro. The man was confident, like he owned the world, but Nathaniel saw through it. He had a habit of doing that.He adjusted his coat, the fabric brushing against the cold, hard steel tucked discreetly under his arm. His eyes followed Masahiro, moving with purpose but never rushing, savoring the moment. As the bartender approached Masahiro, Nathaniel leaned back into the shadows, his fingers once again dancing across his phone screen. A few taps.In th
Last Updated : 2025-01-30Gold & Sand Chapter 138
Nathaniel stepped into Masahiro's apartment, the familiar scent of cedarwood and sandalwood filling the air, grounding him in the cold precision of the task at hand. The dim light from the living room cast long shadows that seemed to stretch and pulse with each beat of his heart, adding to the ambiance of deliberate quiet that surrounded him. His eyes, however, weren’t drawn to the sterile décor or the quiet beauty of the space. They went immediately to the bedroom… where the plan would unfold.As Nathaniel crossed the threshold into the room, a strange mix of urgency and anticipation gnawed at him. It wasn’t just about the job; there was something more primal at play. Power. Control. Watching everything unfold under his command.He approached the bed with measured steps, kneeling beside Masahiro. The man’s body was limp, vulnerable, the deep slumber induced by the drug still keeping him unaware of his surroundings. Nathaniel, however, w
Last Updated : 2025-01-31Gold & Sand Chapter 139
Matthew had just finished his shower when his phone buzzed from the bedside table. He grabbed it, still wrapped in a towel, and saw a message from Masahiro.Masahiro: Hey babe, I'll be a bit late, coming at 11 pm.Matthew smiled, his heart fluttering at the familiar tone. He quickly typed back.Matthew: Alrighty, clingy detective. I'll head home and wait for you.He hit send, tossing the phone aside. A warm feeling spread over him as he moved to get dressed. It was just another night with Masahiro, one of their many quiet, intimate evenings.Matthew smiled to himself as he slipped into his sweater, the fabric warm against his skin. He couldn’t help but think of Masahiro… his strong, reassuring presence, the way his eyes always seemed to soften when they locked onto each other. Tonight, they’d unwind together after their busy days. Just the two of them, like always.Before he finished getting dressed, Matthew grabbed his ph
Last Updated : 2025-01-31Gold & Sand Chapter 140
Masahiro’s head pounded as he stirred awake. His body felt strangely heavy, and a dull ache throbbed behind his eyes. He blinked, the dim glow of the room slowly coming into focus.Something was wrong.The scent of alcohol, and something unfamiliar clung to the air. The sheets beneath him felt tangled, foreign, and—Then he saw him.Matthew.Standing in the middle of the room, eyes dark, wild, full of something Masahiro had never seen before.Masahiro pushed himself upright, his body sluggish. His movement caused the weight beside him to shift, and then… he froze.A stranger was in his bed. A naked stranger.Masahiro’s entire body went rigid. His mind raced, but it was blank at the same time. He didn’t understand. He had been at El Paradiso. He had been waiting for Matthew. And then… what?"What the hell is this?" Masahiro’s voice
Last Updated : 2025-02-02Gold & Sand Chapter 141
Masahiro's head throbbed as he struggled to piece together the fragments of his memory. The last thing he remembered was sitting at the bar in El Paradiso, waiting for Matthew. He had taken a sip of whiskey—one he hadn’t even ordered. Then… nothing. A complete blackout.Now, he was in his bed, naked, with a stranger standing at the foot of the room, already pulling on his clothes. His stomach twisted in disgust.Masahiro turned his head sharply, his eyes locking onto the man. His voice was cold, sharp as a blade. "Who the hell are you?"The man, startled but attempting to play it off, smirked slightly as he buttoned his shirt. "Don't you remember? We were drinking together." He sounded too nonchalant, too rehearsed.Masahiro held back a smirk of his own, though his horror was growing. His body felt… wrong. There was a strange taste on his tongue, a sluggishness in his limbs. He knew damn well he hadn’t touched this man&mdas
Last Updated : 2025-02-03Gold & Sand Chapter 142
The hum of the engine was a dull rhythm in the background as Masahiro's hands gripped the steering wheel with practiced ease. The city around him was waking up, people moving in and out of buildings like clockwork, oblivious to the storm swirling in his mind.He’d barely slept last night, his thoughts too wild, too tangled in the mess Cassidy had created. The image of that stranger in his bed, the drugged haze, and the sheer betrayal that followed still burned in his chest. Masahiro had replayed it over and over in his mind, trying to find the one thing he’d missed. Some clue that could explain what had really happened. But it was all so fucking messy, like someone had taken his life and turned it into a nightmare just to watch him suffer.His jaw clenched as he drove through the morning traffic, trying to shake the feeling that something was about to slip out of his control. He needed to fix this. He needed to find a way to get to Matthew, to make him see
Last Updated : 2025-02-03Gold & Sand Chapter 143
Cassidy adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket with a precision that came from years of practice. He didn’t need to look at the mirror to know he looked sharp. The reflection would confirm it, but he already felt the familiar, confident surge of satisfaction. Tonight wasn’t about him, though.He walked toward the sitting room, his steps calm but deliberate. As he approached, he saw Matthew slouched on the couch, eyes glazed over as he watched TV. No excitement. No joy. Just... numbness. Typical. Cassidy could see the indifference in the way Matthew held himself, the way his eyes flicked toward the screen but never fully engaged. It wasn’t the indifference of someone who didn’t care… it was the apathy of someone trying not to care. Trying not to care about everything. About him.“Still here?” Cassidy’s voice was smooth, but there was a sharpness to it—like a question that didn’t quite need an answer.Mat
Last Updated : 2025-02-04Gold & Sand Chapter 144
Arthur’s grip on the towel around his neck tightened as he stared at Cassidy, his expression caught between frustration and resignation. The tension between them was thick, almost suffocating, but Cassidy just stood there, one hand lazily resting against the doorframe, his smirk unwavering.“You lied to me,” Cassidy said smoothly, like it was a simple fact rather than an accusation.Arthur sighed, already exhausted. “I didn’t lie.”Cassidy arched an eyebrow. “No?”Arthur shook his head. “I was going to come back late. My boss dismissed me early.”Cassidy hummed as if considering his words. “And yet, you didn’t think to call?”Arthur exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his head. “I didn’t think about it.”Cassidy tilted his head, his dark eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “Didn’t think about it?” He let the words hang between the
Last Updated : 2025-02-04
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The trial had ended.Not in fire, not in blood. The gallery emptied quickly—reporters scuttling off to feed headlines, spectators trickling out in whispers. The clack of heels and shoes echoed until the room was hollow.Clark didn’t move.He stood beside the defense table, hands flat, jaw tight, staring down at the stack of notes like they might rearrange themselves into something useful.Masahiro was the first to step closer. Matthew followed, quiet for once. Arthur hung back, uncertain."Clark," Masahiro said low. "It was a tough session, but—""You did everything you could," Matthew offered, unusually serious.Clark said nothing.Didn’t blink.Didn’t breathe.Then Adam moved.He stepped in without a word, placed a firm hand on Clark's shoulder. "We should go."Clark exhaled, just a fraction, and stepped away from the table.Adam glanced at the trio like he didn’t need to explain. Like this wasn’t the time.Masahiro unde
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Two weeks later The courtroom was cold. Sterile. More like a morgue than a chamber of justice.Clark was sitting at the defense table. Navy suit pressed. Tie straight. Glasses low on his nose. The picture of control—except for the death grip on his notes.The courtroom was packed. Press, gallery, sketch artists. Arthur sat in the back, unreadable. Masahiro beside him, arms folded. Matthew leaned in the corner, watching Clark like he was the only thing holding the walls up.And Adam—silent, broad, near the exit—eyes locked on Clark."Court is now in session. The People versus Nathaniel Bishop."The judge’s voice echoed through the chamber, sharp as the crack of a gavel. The courtroom stilled.Across from him, the prosecutor, Diana Halvorsen, stood with calm, dangerous precision. Her heels clicked once on the hardwood as she stepped forward."Your Honor," she began, "the prosecution will revisit the timeline of the incident at the Crayfo
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The front door clicked shut behind them.Clark walked in first, tossing his blazer over the back of the nearest chair and muttering something about how courtrooms smelled like wood polish and moral decay.Then the light blinked on.He slowed.Not completely—just enough to glance up at the hallway, blinking once. Frowned faintly.Another step.A second light flicked on—this one lower, softer, tracing the path toward the kitchen with a warm, almost deliberate glow.Clark stopped completely. “Okay.”Adam followed behind, setting his keys down. “What.”Clark turned. “That wasn’t there before.”Adam barely looked up. “Good eye.”Clark squinted. “When did this happen?”“While we were out.”Clark took another step. The light above the pantry glowed to life.He turned slowly, then looked at Adam with suspicious narrowing eyes. “You put motion lights in the condo.”Adam shrugged. “Problem?”Clark blinked. “Why?”“You trip in
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Sophia turned.One stiletto pivot, full fury in motion.“You wanna talk boundaries, lawyer boy?” she snapped, stalking back down the hall. “How about the boundary of not opening your legs in another woman’s seat?”Clark raised a brow, still leaning on the doorframe, mug in hand. “Sweetheart, if your name’s not on it, it’s not your seat.”Sophia stopped in front of him. Close. Too close.“You don’t know him,” she hissed. “You think that drawl and deadpan makes him loyal? You think you’re special?”“I think,” Clark said, smiling thin, “he chose me. Repeatedly. That kinda makes your opinion—” he sipped his coffee “—decorative.”“You think you’re special, huh? Just ‘cause you’ve got cute cheekbones and no pants?”Clark blinked slowly. “You noticed the cheekbones.”“I will slap the freckles off your smug face.”Clark took another sip. “Careful. This mug’s ceramic. You break it, I sue.”Sophia lunged.Adam moved like a goddamn reflex.One hand caught Sophia mid-stride, the other braced agai
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Sunlight leaked through the blinds, striping the bed in pale gold.Clark stirred first—eyes closed, mouth dry, brain foggy—but something was off.Something heavy.Then he realized.Adam was half on top of him.Not gently.Not lightly.Deadweight.One thick, muscled arm slung across his waist. A bare leg pinning one of his down. Most of Adam’s torso sprawled over his back like a personal avalanche.Clark’s eyes snapped open. “You’re crushing me, Brute.”Adam didn’t move. Just grunted against his shoulder.Clark squirmed. “Move, you oversized bastard, I can’t breathe—”Adam’s voice was low, sleep-rough. “You didn’t complain about my weight last night when I was fuckin’ you.”Clark froze.Completely.Silent.Adam shifted, rolling onto his back with that same lazy, effortless force that made everything he did feel like a warning.The bed creaked.Clark buried his face in the pillow. “I hate you.”“Mm.”“I’m
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Clark moved like he was born for it—shoulders steady, rhythm unhurried, no wasted motion. No performance, either. Just intent. He didn’t look up again. Didn’t have to. Adam’s fingers gripped the edge of the couch cushion. Jaw tight. Breath controlled—but only just. His other hand rested on Clark’s head, thumb ghosting across the edge of his hairline, until the pressure built. And built. And broke. A sound escaped—low, rough. A grunt, dragged from somewhere deep in Adam’s chest. Sharp and unguarded. He didn’t mean to let it out. Didn’t care that he did. He’d never had a blowjob like this. Not once. He’d had better technique. He’d had hungrier mouths. But this? This was something else. Something personal. Clark didn’t rush. He just worked—methodical, controlled, like he knew exactly what would undo a man like Adam and was counting the seconds to get there. By the time it ended, Adam’s head was tipped back, breath heavy, chest rising slow. Clark stayed there a second long
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The hospital hallway smelled like antiseptic and low-budget coffee.Clark adjusted his glasses as he pushed open the door to Cassidy’s room, one hand still inside his coat pocket, mind already rehearsing what to say. “Just a quick check-in, nothing—”He stopped short.So did Adam, right behind him.Inside the room, Arthur was sitting on the edge of Cassidy’s hospital bed. One hand tangled in Cassidy’s hair. Their mouths locked in what was clearly not a platonic reunion.Cassidy had one hand behind Arthur’s back, steady, possessive. Like he’d never let him go.Clark blinked.Arthur flinched, pulled back immediately, face flaming red. “I—uh—”Cassidy didn’t flinch at all. He just turned his head slowly toward the door, looking so pleased with himself it was almost a crime.“Oh,” Clark said dryly, “am I interrupting your ‘visitation therapy’ session?”Arthur jumped up, fixing his hair with both hands. “Clark! I—um—we weren’t—”Cassidy smirked
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Adam woke with a grunt and a twitch of muscle memory. The light leaking in from the curtains was soft and gold, filtered through early haze. Clark was pressed up against him again—warm, relaxed, one hand curled near Adam’s chest like it belonged there.They’d stopped pretending it was a one-time thing.Adam stared at the ceiling for a second, then muttered under his breath, “Shit.”Carefully, he slid out from under Clark’s weight and stood. Cold air hit his bare skin, but he ignored it. He grabbed a towel off the chair, rolled his shoulders once, and headed for the balcony.By the time Clark stirred, Adam had been working out for half an hour—shirtless, glistening slightly, his muscles flexing as he pulled through another set of pushups. The city stretched out behind him, indifferent.Clark blinked at the empty bed. Then looked down at himself.He was only in boxers.Too early for modesty. He stood, padded barefoot across the room, and snagged the nearest
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Next dayThe apartment was quiet. Too quiet.Adam stepped out of the bathroom, but he froze halfway.Clark was inside his bedroom.Again.Adam blinked once. “You got lost, Harvard?”Clark didn’t even flinch. He was crouched by the dresser, one of the lower drawers already open. He was… putting things in it. Neatly. Folded shirts. Socks.“I needed space,” Clark said, like it was the most logical thing in the world. “Your guest room is tragic. One drawer squeaks, the closet smells like cedar and regret, and I’m pretty sure the bed frame’s older than the Constitution.”Adam crossed his arms. “That don’t explain why you’re touchin’ my shit.”Clark shut the drawer gently. “Relax. I didn’t touch your side.”“I don’t have sides. It’s all my shit.”Clark stood, adjusting his glasses. “Right. Of course. All yours. Including the toothpaste, the whiskey, the Wi-Fi, and half the bed.”Adam stepped forward. “You don’t live here.”Clark tilted his head, eyes innocent. “Could’ve fooled me.”Adam’s j
