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Chapter 57
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2024-12-24 10:30:36It was morning, and the soft light filtered through the kitchen window, casting a calm glow across the room. Matthew moved about the kitchen with practiced ease, his movements fluid as he cracked eggs into a bowl, whisking them together with a touch of seasoning. The aroma of sizzling bacon filled the air, mingling with the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee.
At the kitchen table, Masahiro sat quietly, his gaze fixed on Matthew. His usually steady, stoic expression was softer today, eyes lingering on Matthew's every move. There was something different in his stare… a quiet admiration, the kind that spoke of more than just casual observation. Masahiro couldn’t help but notice how easy Matthew made it look, how natural it all seemed. He was starting to realize something, something he hadn't anticipated: he was beginning to like Matthew. The weight of it settled in his chest, unfamiliar but undeniable. He never liked Matthew, but this feeling? This was new.
“Payne,” Matt
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Gold & Sand Chapter 58
Masahiro stirred awake, the faint morning light filtering through the curtains. He blinked a few times, the haze of sleep clearing as his gaze settled on Matthew. The man was still asleep, his blond hair messy against the pillow, his breathing steady and even. In the soft light, Matthew’s features looked striking… sharp jawline, full lips, and the faint shadow of stubble on his chin. He looked peaceful, younger somehow, and undeniably handsome.Watching Matthew sleep felt... strange. Masahiro wasn’t sentimental… he prided himself on being practical, logical, and focused on what needed to be done. But in moments like this, all that restraint seemed to slip. There was something grounding about the stillness in the room, about the faint rise and fall of Matthew’s chest as he breathed deeply, utterly unguarded.Masahiro hated admitting it, even to himself, but he liked this… the quiet, the warmth, the way Matthew looked without the usual bravado. No smirks, no snarky comments, no sly glan
Last Updated : 2024-12-24Gold & Sand Chapter 59
Masahiro lounged on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, and the faint glow of the television flickering across his face. He wasn’t really watching it… just letting the noise wash over him while his thoughts wandered. The light from the screen painted his features in shades of blue and white, casting an almost ethereal glow around him.The quiet of the room was broken by Matthew’s voice echoing from the hallway. "That's funny, Lewis..."Masahiro’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of Lewis’s name, the tone of Matthew’s voice grating on his nerves. He was laughing… softly, casually. ´Lewis, again? ´ Masahiro’s jaw tightened, but he ignored it, trying to focus on the TV. He wasn’t about to give in to the fleeting jealousy that bubbled up at the sound of Matthew's laughter. ´It’s nothing, ´ he told himself, turning the volume down just a little. But the slight discomfor
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The room was quiet, save for the occasional clink of utensils against plates. The aroma of dinner filled the air, a simple meal after a long day. Both Matthew and Masahiro were seated at the table, each enjoying their food in a peaceful silence.Matthew, however, couldn't shake the thought of what he had witnessed earlier. He leaned back slightly in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he broke the silence."Since when do you like Clyde?" Matthew asked, his tone casual but with an edge of curiosity.Masahiro paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He glanced at Matthew with a neutral expression, then shrugged before continuing to eat. "What do you think?" he replied, keeping his voice even.Matthew frowned, clearly intrigued. Masahiro wasn't one to offer explanations, especially when it came to personal matters. But this, this was different. He needed to know more.Masahiro placed his chopsticks down, his gaze drifting toward the window as he continue
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The hospital felt like a mausoleum… cold, quiet, and unnervingly sterile, as if the place had given up on the concept of warmth altogether. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly glow on the off-white walls, making everything look like a second-rate horror film set. Matthew walked briskly ahead, his steps purposeful, as if he were on a mission to escape this dreadful place. Behind him, Masahiro trailed, desperately trying not to look too eager to keep up, as though lagging behind would somehow validate their tortured existence together.They had been living together for nearly five months, and in that time, their relationship had twisted into something that could only be described as a twisted sitcom… complete with sarcastic barbs and forced smiles.As they reached the clinic, a nurse motioned for Masahiro to follow her alone. Matthew stayed behind in the waiting area, scrolling through his phone with the kind of indifference typically reser
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Yumi knocked on the door of Masahiro’s apartment, and Matthew, who had been casually lounging on the couch, opened it. He greeted her with a warm smile."Yumi, good to see you again," Matthew said, his tone light and welcoming. He stepped aside to let her in."Likewise, Matthew," Yumi replied, her voice stead.She entered the apartment, and her eyes immediately found Masahiro. He was lying on the couch, looking more relaxed than she had seen him in a long time. His arm was propped up with a pillow, but he gave her a half-smile when she entered, a soft expression that immediately put her at ease."Hey, Yumi," Masahiro greeted her, his voice still a little raspy but clearly more upbeat than the last time they’d spoken.Yumi walked over, taking a seat beside him on the couch. "How’s everything? How’s your arm?" she asked, her eyes scanning him with practiced precision.Matthew, recognizing that the two needed space to ta
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A month laterThe morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, warming the room but doing little to stir its occupants. Matthew lay sprawled across Masahiro’s chest, their breaths steady in sync. The sheets draped lazily over their waists, leaving the marks of last night visible on Matthew’s skin—hickeys scattered along his neck and shoulders, paired with faint bruises where Masahiro’s grip had been firm.The shrill buzz of a phone shattered the peaceful quiet.Masahiro stirred first, his dark eyes narrowing as he glanced toward the bedside table. “Smith… your phone’s ringing.”Matthew groaned, nuzzling closer into Masahiro’s chest. “Hmm…”Masahiro’s voice carried more insistence. “Your phone.”“Too early for this…” Matthew muttered; his voice muffled against Masahiro&rs
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The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as Masahiro stood at the counter, methodically pouring the dark liquid into a ceramic mug. The quiet hum of the early morning was broken only by the faint sounds of Clyde’s paws tapping against the floor as the cat followed him around.Masahiro glanced down, raising an eyebrow at the cat’s persistent presence. “You don’t drink this,” he said dryly, gesturing to the coffee. “There’s food and water in your spot. Go.”Clyde meowed in protest but didn’t budge, his tail flicking lazily as he watched Masahiro take his mug and head toward the balcony.The morning air was crisp, a gentle breeze rustling through the city below as Masahiro leaned on the railing, the warm mug resting in his hands. He sipped his coffee slowly, his gaze wandering over the familiar urban sprawl. For a moment, everything seemed ordinary—the distant hum of traffic,
Last Updated : 2024-12-27Gold & Sand Chapter 65
Masahiro sat in a café a few blocks away, his coffee forgotten as his eyes lingered on the street outside. The car was still there, parked in the same spot it had occupied since morning. This time, its engine was running, a faint plume of exhaust curling into the chilly air, setting his nerves on edge.Then his eyes caught on a figure across the street. Matthew.Masahiro’s stomach churned. Matthew strolled casually, hands in his pockets, utterly unaware of the danger.Pulling out his phone, Masahiro dialed Matthew’s number. Once. Twice. No answer. The bastard wasn’t picking up.“Come on, Smith,” Masahiro growled under his breath, dialing again.The car’s headlights flicked on. The low growl of the engine grew louder as the vehicle inched forward, angling toward the crosswalk.Masahiro shot to his feet, abandoning his coffee. “Matthew!” he shouted, sprinting out of the café. His voice barely carried over the traf
Last Updated : 2024-12-28
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The apartment door clicked shut behind them.Clark dropped his coat on the entryway bench with an exaggerated sigh and muttered, “I am emotionally exhausted. And not in a sexy, Victorian-tragedy kind of way. I mean in the ‘my feet hurt and my soul’s tired’ kind of way.”Adam, already heading for the kitchen, tossed back, “Then take your heels off, sweetheart.”Clark gave him a long, dry look. “They are Italian leather Oxfords. But yes, thank you, masculine voice of reason.”Adam opened the fridge, grabbed leftover rice, and dumped it unceremoniously into a pan. A beat passed, then the stove clicked to life. Clark wandered in behind him, slower, more graceful, toeing off his shoes like someone doing a product demo.“You’re cooking,” Clark said with a soft note of surprise.“I’m heating shit up.”“For you or for both of us?”Adam didn’t look up. “Depends. You gonna whine the whole time?”Clark leaned against the counter, resting his chin in his hand. “Maybe. Depends. Are you going to be
Gold & Sand Chapter 274
The apartment door shut behind them with a soft click. Masahiro shrugged off his coat and hung it by the door with mechanical efficiency. Matthew kicked his boots off lazily and dropped his keys into the bowl by the counter, same routine as always.Masahiro passed him in the hallway, unbothered. "I’m showering."Matthew nodded, grabbed a soda from the fridge, cracked it open. Silence stretched while the water started running. When Masahiro emerged ten minutes later, hair damp and towel slung around his neck, Matthew was still at the counter, drinking slowly.“We gonna talk about it?” Matthew asked without looking up.Masahiro paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “About what.”“Yumi.” Matthew turned now. Arms folded. Voice calm, but not playful. “How she thinks I sleep in your guest room because of some old undercover job we did. And you let her think that. Still.”Masahiro dried his hands with the towel, avoiding his eyes. “It’s easier.”“Easier for who?”Masahiro didn’t answer.Matthew
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The restaurant doors swung shut behind them, sealing in the scent of roasted garlic and expensive regret. The parking lot buzzed with leftover heat from the day, a few stray voices in the distance, heels clicking on pavement.Clark walked ahead with Masahiro, steps crisp, back straight, his fingers adjusting his sleeves as if court decorum extended into the streets. Masahiro matched his pace effortlessly—hands tucked into his coat pockets, eyes cold and precise as always."So," Masahiro said without looking at him, "how do you see the trial ending?"Clark didn’t hesitate. "Nathaniel will walk. Probably with a statement read by a trembling clerk and a jury that wants to forget the word 'testimony' for the rest of their lives."Masahiro gave a slow nod. "You're confident.""I'm always confident," Clark replied, the corner of his mouth twitching. "The difference is whether I admit it out loud."Masahiro’s eyes flicked to him, a hint of dry amusement. "You just did."Clark adjusted his gl
Gold & Sand Chapter 272
Matthew didn’t wait for an invitation—just dropped into the chair across from Clark like he owned it.Masahiro sat beside him with all the enthusiasm of a man attending a funeral, pulling out his phone before the chair even touched the floor.Matthew grinned, eyes on Clark. “You two are cute. The bodyguard act? Adorable. But let’s not pretend you’re not fucking like a side plot to a very illegal soap opera.”Clark, unbothered, lifted his wineglass with practiced elegance. “And you’re talking like a man who’s only slept with criminals and delusions.”Matthew’s grin widened. “Facts.”Adam didn’t look up. Just kept eating his burger like nothing in the room concerned him.“Adam’s real quiet today,” Matthew added, leaning his chin on his palm. “All those hickeys drain your vocabulary?”Clark sliced a piece of venison with clean, silent precision. “Some of us have class. Others… wear too much cologne and overshare.”Masahiro didn’t even glance up. “Don’t e
Gold & Sand Chapter 271
The trial day had ended with the defense soaring and the prosecution bleeding.Masahiro, Arthur, and Matthew stood in the hallway, a loose cluster of tension and exhaustion. Arthur clutched a half-empty water bottle, his fingers still shaking from the witness stand. Masahiro stood tall and unreadable, as always.Matthew looked like he’d just come out of a concert—buzzing, amused, and entirely too observant.Clark approached with that predator-still-in-courtroom calm, suit untouched, expression cool. Adam was behind him, one step back, hands in his pockets, saying nothing—like always.“Hell of a show,” Matthew said as Clark joined them. “You made that prosecutor look like she was reciting a grocery list under threat.”Clark only lifted a brow. “She wasn’t worth more than that.”Masahiro gave a nod. “Strong performance.”Arthur murmured, “Nathaniel might actually walk…”Clark nodded slightly. “Let’s not jinx it.”They stood there for a beat.The
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The door shut behind them with a soft, echoing click.Clark didn’t speak. Neither did Nathaniel.For a long moment, they just stood there in the defense room—alone, away from the murmuring gallery and the jury’s blank stares.Clark finally moved.He set his notes down on the table, reached up, and took off his glasses. Not dramatically. Just… tired.His fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose like he could squeeze the tension out through his skull.Nathaniel watched him.Still in his seat. Back straight. Calm in the way someone learns from spending time around chaos.“You didn’t have to say all that,” Nathaniel said quietly.Clark dropped his hand. Didn’t look at him yet. “Yeah, well. I did.”“You made me sound like a hero.”Clark finally glanced up. The fatigue didn’t soften his tone. “No. I made you sound like a man who didn’t fire a gun.”Nathaniel gave a small, humorless laugh. “Still a lie.”Clark sat down slowly across from
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The courtroom felt colder.Not physically—just… off.Like every breath Clark took was being measured in decibels.Like the walls were closer.The gallery buzzed with quiet anticipation—reporters in tailored neutral, pens ready to cut. Matthew sat on the far end, half-scowling. Arthur hovered near Masahiro, face unreadable.Nathaniel sat beside Clark—still, calm, like he didn’t feel the pressure digging into the back of his spine.And Clark?Perfect.Tie sharp. Glasses gleaming. Posture textbook.Only Adam saw the truth.His tie was straight, but his breath was shallow. That wasn’t confidence. That was survival.Adam watched from the last bench, arms folded.Motionless. But primed.At the front of the courtroom, Diana Halvorsen stood like she’d built the place.Flawless blonde hair, heels like blades, voice clear as verdicts.She turned to the jury with clinical poise.“Let’s talk about narrative.”“You want to paint Bishop as a savior’s assistant?” she asked, voice smooth. “Then tell
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Arthur sat at his desk, staring at the clock.3:59 PM.He shifted in his chair. Cleared his throat. Glanced at the file in front of him, then at Masahiro—just across the room, seated, silent, flipping through a thick report with surgical focus.Arthur hesitated.Then looked again.Masahiro didn’t look up. Not immediately. Just turned another page with that same eerie calm.Then, without raising his voice or his head, he said, “I know exactly what you want.”Arthur straightened. “I—uh—what?”Masahiro looked at him now. Direct. Sharp. “You want to visit Cassidy.”Arthur’s ears burned. “Sir, I was going to—”“You’re allowed,” Masahiro interrupted. “Go.”Arthur blinked. “Really?”Masahiro returned to his file. “You’ll be back before shift ends.”Arthur nodded quickly, standing. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”Masahiro said nothing more.Arthur cleaned his desk—neatly, as always—then grabbed his coat and bag. He moved quickly but tried n
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Adam got up from the couch and tugged the curtain back.Clark was outside on the balcony, sitting on the tile floor like it wasn’t cold, wearing nothing but Adam’s hoodie. Legs bare. Hair a mess. Staring at the skyline like it had wronged him.Adam slid the glass door open. Leaned against the frame.“You really gonna sit out there half-naked like a damn raccoon in a hoodie?”Clark didn’t look over. “What do you care?”“I don’t.” Adam stepped out. “Just don’t want to explain to Masahiro why you froze your ass off in my perimeter.”Clark exhaled through his nose. “I’m not cold.”“You’re barefoot on stone, dumbass.”Clark muttered, “I’m not here for a fashion lecture.”Adam didn’t rise to it. Just crouched beside him, arms on his knees, voice low. Calm. But with that steel under it.“You need a signal.”Clark blinked. “What?”“In public. Court. Crowd. Whatever. You’re too proud to say ‘help.’ So don’t. Just tap.”Clark stared at him.
