The room was quiet, save for the soft rustle of the sheets and the faint hum of the city beyond the window. Matthew was already asleep, his breathing deep and steady, sprawled out on the bed like he didn’t have a care in the world. His body was relaxed, the exhaustion of the night finally taking its toll on him. Masahiro watched him for a moment, his heart a strange, tight feeling in his chest—something he couldn’t quite name, but something real nonetheless.
He gently pulled himself away, careful not to wake Matthew. Slipping into loose pants, Masahiro padded silently toward the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of water, the cool liquid a small, simple comfort in the quiet of the apartment. When he finished, he returned to the bedroom, water in hand.
Matthew lay on the bed, his hair spread across the pillow. Masahiro paused at the foot of the bed, watching him for a long moment. He felt a strange, almost possessive tenderness in the way Matthew look
The raid on Mr. K's operation had not only dismantled a criminal empire but had also ignited a media firestorm that engulfed Cleveland. News outlets raced to cover the shocking discovery of the trafficking ring, the corruption that had seeped into the highest levels of government, and the arrest of Kenneth Hartman, the Minister of Trade and Economic Development. Headlines screamed for attention, each vying to present the latest angle on the scandal that had rocked the city.Masahiro could hardly keep up with the barrage of notifications on his phone, each ping signaling another story breaking. “Minister Arrested in Shocking Trafficking Ring,” one headline blared. “Corruption at the Highest Level: Who Else Will Fall?” Another speculated about the fallout, naming high-ranking politicians who had been seen mingling at the gala just hours before the raid.As Masahiro sat in the station, the weight of the media scrutiny settled heavily on his shoulde
At the precinct, the atmosphere was charged with an undercurrent of tension. Officers bustled about, preparing for what many considered the most significant operation of their careers. Masahiro joined the team briefing, his mind shifting gears as he focused on the task at hand.“Listen up!” David, announced, his voice commanding attention. “Tomorrow’s transfer of Mr. K is not just another routine procedure. We’re dealing with a high-profile suspect—a government minister who has ties to organized crime. This operation must be flawless. I expect each of you to perform your duties without fail.”The room buzzed with murmurs. Masahiro exchanged glances with Lewis, who leaned closer, whispering, “It’s hard to believe a minister is a mafia baron. How does he get away with it?”“I wish I knew,” Masahiro replied quietly, his thoughts already racing ahead. “But we can’t let our guard down. Not now.”As the briefing continued, Masahiro listened to David outlining the secu
The convoy rolled steadily along the highway, the morning enveloping the city. Masahiro sat in the driver's seat, his focus sharp, eyes scanning the road ahead. The weight of the moment pressed heavily on him; they were about to deliver one of the most dangerous criminals in recent history to a secure facility for questioning.“Everything good?” Lewis asked.“Yeah, just... keeping an eye on things,” Masahiro replied.Suddenly, the communication systems crackled, and a series of garbled sounds erupted from the radios. Masahiro frowned, flicking the switch to try to re-establish contact. “What the hell?”“David, come in. David!” The static filled the cab, but there was no response. Masahiro glanced at the rear-view mirror, where he could see the other vehicles in the convoy.“Something’s wrong,” Lewis said, his voice low but urgent. “We need to make sure everyone is okay back the
The shrill sound of the alarm echoed through the cold, sterile halls of the maximum-security facility. The atmosphere inside shifted in an instant… what had been a meticulously controlled operation was now descending into chaos. Masahiro stood frozen, his mind racing as the man beneath the hood continued to stammer and plead. The face he’d seen moments earlier… the one he thought belonged to Mr. K… was gone, replaced with a stranger.The confusion in the room was notable. Officers exchanged uncertain glances, their previous confidence slipping away.“What the hell is going on?” Masahiro repeated, his voice steady despite the shock rising in his chest.David still hadn’t spoken. His eyes darted between Masahiro and the man in front of him, his expression unreadable.“Who is this?” Masahiro demanded, stepping forward, his gaze sharp. “Is this some kind of joke? Where’s Mr. K?”
Masahiro unlocked the door to the apartment and stepped inside, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders. His usually calm expression was marred by frustration, his movements brisk as he kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket onto the nearest chair.From the couch, Matthew, sprawled in his usual lazy fashion with Clyde perched on his lap, glanced up with a smirk. “Rough day?” he teased, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You look like someone just stole your donuts.”Masahiro shot him a glare but didn’t respond immediately, heading straight for the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.Then he finally spoke, his tone clipped. “Just a lot of work. Nothing special.”Matthew raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Work, huh?” He pointed toward the muted television, where a reporter gestured animatedly outside the facility Masahiro had just left. “Saw the press conference. Something happen?”Masahiro hesitated for jus
The soft rustle of sheets stirred Matthew awake. He groaned, his face buried into the pillow as he tried to ignore the faint light filtering through the blinds. It wasn’t the sun, though, that had disturbed him… it was the weight of a familiar hand trailing up his back, fingers lingering like they had no business being so gentle.“Morning,” Masahiro’s voice was soft, coaxing, the kind of tone Matthew had learned to mistrust.“Whatever it is, the answer’s no,” Matthew mumbled into the pillow. He turned his head just enough to glare over his shoulder, finding Masahiro propped on one elbow, his dark eyes focused entirely on him.Masahiro didn’t reply, not with words. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Matthew’s shoulder, slow and deliberate.Matthew groaned again, louder this time, but it lacked conviction. “You’re like a needy dog, you know that? Path
Matthew lay sprawled on the bed like a defeated gladiator after a particularly brutal battle. His arms flopped to the sides, and his head lolled dramatically as he sighed, long and heavy. “I think you’ve killed me,” he declared. Masahiro, still perched on top of him, leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You’re fine,” he said, far too smug for Matthew’s taste. “I’m not fine,” Matthew shot back, his voice rising theatrically. “My body is broken. My soul is broken. If I even attempt to stand, I’ll probably collapse and die right here. Then what will you do? Huh? Do you have a plan for that?” Masahiro tilted his head, considering this while tracing lazy circles on Matthew’s chest. “I’d probably bury you in the backyard,” he said with a faint grin. “Less paperwork that way.” “You’re a monster,” Matthew deadpanned, glaring up at him. “And yet,” Masahiro whispered, his lips brushing against Matthew’s ear, “you always let me in.” Mat
Masahiro parked the car in front of a small, cozy café, the sun barely peeking through the early morning clouds. He looked over at Matthew, who had loosened his seatbelt and settled back, sunglasses covering his eyes and arms crossed in an all-too-familiar, dramatic pose.“What do you want?” Masahiro asked, eyes on the road but curious about Matthew’s usual morning request.Matthew didn’t even bother opening his eyes, his tone lazy and mocking. “A croissant, something with berries, maybe a Danish. And a hot chocolate. Make sure it's extra thick. Not that watered-down stuff you usually get me."Masahiro smirked, already thinking about how much Matthew liked the ridiculous things he ordered for breakfast. “Alright, I’ll grab your ‘delicacies.’”He got out, leaving Matthew lounging in the passenger seat, still looking like he belonged in a movie about troubled, sunshiny mornings.Insid
Arthur dragged himself out of bed, groggy from yesterday’s stakeout, which had amounted to absolutely nothing. His body ached from sitting for hours, watching a man live the most painfully normal life imaginable. Grocery shopping, work, home. That was it. No shady meetings, no clandestine phone calls, no suspicious tattoos appearing or disappearing. Just a guy living his life while Arthur wasted his.Today had to be different.He shuffled into the shower, standing under the water as if it could cleanse away his frustration. Throwing on casual clothes that wouldn’t scream undercover cop, he grabbed his keys and stepped out into the cold morning air.This Alan Blackwood—the one from Cargo Fleet—was supposed to be a little rougher. An ex-convict, a former drug dealer. There had to be something there.Maybe this one wouldn’t spend the entire day debating which brand of cereal to buy.The morni
Arthur was on the bed, staring at the ceiling as his phone buzzed on the nightstand. The cheap let in a sliver of morning light, casting a faint glow across the cramped room. He reached for his phone without enthusiasm, glancing at the caller ID.Cassidy.His fingers hesitated before answering."Morning, sweetheart."Arthur rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. "Morning," he murmured, voice still thick with sleep."How did you sleep? By this voice, you’re still in bed."Arthur turned onto his side, facing the window. "I slept well. What about you?" A pause. "Yeah… I’m still in bed.""I slept well too, just missing you." Cassidy’s voice was low, teasing. "So, did you manage to ask for a few days off from your boss? You didn’t tell me anything else."Arthur’s breath hitched for a second. "Uh—yeah… I’m in Bristol right now.""I s
Arthur was at his desk, flipping through the last pages of a report when the sound of the office door opening made him glance up. Masahiro walked in, his sharp gaze scanning the room before heading straight to his desk."Morning, Cooper," Masahiro said as he set down his briefcase."Morning, sir," Arthur responded.He watched Masahiro organize his things, his movements precise and efficient. Without realizing it, Arthur found himself staring. Masahiro, always perceptive, caught the lingering gaze and turned his head slightly."Do you have something to say, Cooper?"Arthur immediately straightened, averting his eyes. "Uh—sir… It's just—"Masahiro raised an eyebrow. "Just what? Spit it out."Arthur exhaled, gathering his thoughts. "My mother is sick, and I… I'm the only family she has. I'd like to go to Bristol for two days to see her."Masahiro, now sitting down, rested his elbows on the desk. "You took this long just to ask for
Arthur stepped into his studio apartment, kicking off his shoes before throwing himself onto the bed. A wide grin stretched across his face as he stared at the ceiling, his heart still racing with excitement. He had just met Cassidy’s family. They had accepted him.For the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged somewhere, like he was part of something special. The warmth of their welcome still lingered in his chest, and he let out a small, contented sigh.But then his gaze drifted to the nightstand beside him.His smile faltered.There, in a simple wooden frame, was a picture of Alexandra. His twin sister. The pang of sadness hit him like a cold wave, washing away the warmth of the evening. For a moment, he felt like he had forgotten—forgotten why he had joined the police in the first place, why he had spent years chasing shadows.He reached for the frame, tracing his fingers over the glass as he stared at her familiar face
As Cassidy steered the car through the quiet streets, Arthur sat back in his seat, feeling the soft hum of the road beneath them. After a moment, he couldn’t help but smile.“Your mom really knows her way around a kitchen. I think I ate enough to last me a week.”Cassidy’s eyes flicked briefly to him, and a small, almost imperceptible smirk appeared on his lips. “I noticed. You couldn’t stop picking at everything. But it’s cute how you have no self-control.”Arthur looked over at him, unaware of the possessiveness in Cassidy’s tone. “What? It was all so good! You saw me try to be polite, but that lasagna… man, it’s like she put a spell on it.”Cassidy’s expression shifted slightly, but his voice remained playful. “You were staring at the Cheesy Breadsticks like you were about to take a bite out of my hand. If you wanted it that bad, you could’ve just asked.&rd
"Where's the toilet?" Arthur asked, glancing around.Juliette wiped her hands on a dish towel and pointed down the hall. "This way.""Fine, I'll be right back," Arthur said, heading in the direction she indicated.As the sound of his footsteps faded, Juliette leaned against the counter, lost in thought. The pieces had clicked together too well—too fast. Arthur’s story, the black rose tattoo, the way Cassidy had subtly dodged the topic during lunch. It all pointed to one thing.Then, as if drawn by her thoughts, Cassidy entered the kitchen. He went straight to the counter, filled a glass with water, and took a long sip. But he could feel her eyes on him.Lowering the glass, he met her gaze. "What?"Juliette pushed off the counter and silently walked to the door, closing it behind her. When she turned back, her expression was sharp. "What are you hiding?"Cassidy raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "What are you talking a
The meal had ended, the table filled with empty plates and half-finished glasses of water. Juliette, always the first to move, stood up and began gathering the dishes.Arthur, wanting to be polite, quickly got up as well. “Let me help,” he said, picking up a plate and following her to the kitchen.They worked together in quiet efficiency, stacking the plates near the sink and wiping down the table. When they finished, Juliette turned toward Cassidy, tilting her head playfully.“Bro, can you come and wash the dishes with me?”Cassidy smiled, about to step forward, when a thought made him pause. His hand instinctively hovered over his wrist—the rose tattoo. The makeup concealing it was waterproof, but he’d been wearing it for hours. Too much water, too much rubbing, and it could start to fade. He couldn’t risk it.Instead, he glanced at Arthur and smirked. “I think it’s better if Arthur helps you&
Then, after crossing the living room, Cassidy and Arthur was on their way to the dining room, where Arthur immediately noticed the table set for five. His gaze flickered to the extra place setting, and he recalled Cassidy mentioning his sister, Juliette.Lorraine smiled warmly and gestured toward a chair. "Have a seat, Arthur."Arthur pulled out the chair and sat, and Cassidy took the seat beside him."Jules!" Lorraine called toward the stairs."Coming," a voice responded from above.Robert settled into his chair with a knowing look. "It’s not every day our son brings someone home."Cassidy smirked, but before he could respond, Lorraine placed a few bowls of food on the table. "So," she asked, glancing at Arthur, "where did you two meet?"Cassidy, without hesitation, answered, "In a café.""Oh?" Lorraine’s brows lifted slightly.Arthur barely held back a smirk, stealing a glance at Cassidy, who was busy pouring himself a
The drive to Cassidy's family home was wrapped in an awkward silence, though the tension wasn’t all from the drive. Arthur, eyes focused on his phone, scrolled through messages and notifications, the weight of Cassidy's presence beside him feeling different now. Cassidy, on the other hand, was barely aware of the road. His mind was occupied with a hundred dark thoughts, each one tightening the knot in his stomach.“So,” Arthur’s voice broke through Cassidy’s thoughts, light and boyish. “I’m really excited to meet your parents.”Cassidy forced a smile, though it was tight, like the edges of his mask were fraying. “Yeah, they’re… good people.” He said it flatly, not truly feeling it. Good people? His mind mocked the words. They didn’t know the man who’d made their son, their precious Cassidy, a dangerous, manipulative monster. They didn’t know about the weight of the secrets he car