The undercover shop sat nestled on a quiet corner somewhere, with frosted glass that afforded full protection from outsider views. A simple wooden sign was attached above the door. It stated, in bold, no-nonsense letters: Incognito.
The quiet smell of expensive leather and fresh cotton greeted Masahiro and Matthew as they stepped inside, intertwined with the soft hum of jazz music playing softly in the background. Refined, without being ostentatious-perfect to not stand out.
A small woman, in her mid-thirties, with a sharp, fitted jacket, was standing behind the counter. Her gaze flicked from Masahiro to Matthew and back, then gave them a practiced once-over before she followed up with a smile that was both professional and warm.
"Good morning," she greeted them with a slight accent. The decisive air of command filtered into her voice: "You must be Payne and Smith. I have your measurements ready."
Masahiro nodded and briefly glanced at Matth
The 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
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 He glanced around, taking in the outdated decor and the overwhelming sense of forced charm.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
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
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
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."
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;
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.
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.
Matthew lay sprawled on the couch, half-watching the TV. The flickering light danced over his face, but his mind was elsewhere. The sound of the door opening caught his attention, and he turned to see Cassidy entering, shrugging off his coat with a calculated ease.Cassidy’s dark gaze fell on Matthew, lingering as if he was trying to read his every thought.“Matthew, I’ll be leaving for NewCastle Upon Tyne soon.”Matthew didn’t bother masking his sarcasm. “What’s the occasion? Vacation? Assassination?”Cassidy smirked, ignoring the barb. “Business. A capo meeting. Annual reports, territory matters, last year’s successes, next year’s plans. You know, the usual.”Matthew snorted. “How riveting. Must be nice to have a full calendar of crimes to discuss.”Cassidy’s smirk widened, and he walked toward the washroom without
Matthew stirred, his face buried deep into the pillow, half-dreaming, half-drifting in that pleasant haze of sleep. Then came the incessant buzzing of a cellphone, shattering his peace. His eyelids twitched as he groaned softly, reluctant to wake. He opened one eye, squinting at the empty side of the bed. The faint sound of running water came from the bathroom. Of course, Cassidy was already up. His phone, however, was still ringing, loud and demanding attention. "Cassidy!” Matthew called out, his voice rough from sleep. The water stopped abruptly. A silence lingered before Cassidy’s deep, dangerous voice carried back. “Yeah?” “Your phone is ringing!” There was a pause, then the same commanding tone. “Pick it up!" Matthew frowned, stretching an arm toward the device. As he held it up, he muttered, “New phone,” before answering. “Yeah?” Nothing but silence on the other end. “Hello?”Again, there was nothin
Arthur woke up slowly, the morning light seeping through the gaps in the blinds. His head felt heavy, and his body ached faintly from the night before. Blinking, he turned his head to the other side of the bed, expecting to see Cassidy still there. The space was empty. He frowned, propping himself up on an elbow.“Maybe he’s in the bathroom,” Arthur muttered, his voice rough with sleep.Pushing himself upright, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stretched. The room was quiet, too quiet. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He rubbed his face and got to his feet, his gaze landing on his trousers crumpled on the floor. His phone. He needed to check the time.Arthur crouched down, fishing through his trousers. His hand moved through the pockets, coming up empty.His brow furrowed. “Where the hell…”He stood up, scanning the floor around him. Maybe it had fallen out? He crouche
Arthur took a moment to scan Cassidy up and down, the powerful presence of the man impossible to ignore. Cassidy’s demeanor was all control… his intense eyes, his smirk, the confidence in his movements. Arthur could feel the tension building between them, like an electric current in the air.“It’s your first time here?” Cassidy asked, his voice smooth, probing. “Never saw you here before.”Arthur chuckled, his gaze flicking over Cassidy before meeting his eyes. “What? You live here?”Cassidy leaned in slightly, a glimmer of amusement in his expression. “I’m in the management team.”Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Interesting. But answering your question... no, I don’t come often.”Cassidy tilted his head, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. “So, what made you come here today?” His hand reached out, gently grazing Arthur’s jaw. The
Cassidy leaned back in a plush booth of El Paradiso, the low hum of conversation and the clink of glasses blending into a comforting background. But tonight, the sounds were distant… his mind was elsewhere. Frustration gnawed at him. He’d placed two calls to Matthew, but not once had the phone picked up. It was starting to eat at him.His fingers twitched as he reached for his glass, taking a sip of the amber liquid that burned down his throat. It didn’t help. Nothing helped. He was supposed to be out here, in control, but tonight? Tonight, he was feeling like the man he'd tried so hard not to become… vulnerable.“Another one,” he muttered to the barman, his voice low, strained. The bartender didn’t ask questions, just nodded, sliding another glass across the polished wood.Cassidy pulled out his phone, his thumb flying over the screen as he typed a message to Matthew. `I wanna see you back until tomorrow morning, othe
Arthur walked into El Paradiso, the lively hum of the nightclub filling his ears as he stepped through the door. The dim, neon-lit ambiance of the place instantly hit him, and he felt a wave of nostalgia rush over him. His attire for the night… a crisp blazer, a simple but stylish T-shirt beneath, and well-fitted trousers… was on point, just the right balance between casual and sharp. He scanned the crowded space, the vibrant beats of music reverberating around him.At one of the couches by the bar, he spotted Charles and Peter. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he noticed their affectionate position… Peter sitting comfortably on Charles’ lap, both engrossed in each other. It was a bit daring for a public spot, but that was just how they were… bold, carefree, and very much in love. Arthur made his way toward them, feeling a lightness he hadn’t experienced in a while.When he reached their table, he cleared his t
Matthew's breath hitched as he watched Masahiro's eyes darken with desire. Masahiro leaned down, capturing Matthew's lips in a tender kiss, before trailing kisses down his neck, leaving a trail of wetness.With a slow, deliberate push, he entered Matthew again, eliciting a soft moan. He paused, giving Matthew a moment to adjust, before pulling out and thrusting back in, setting a slow, sensual rhythm.Matthew's hands roamed over Masahiro's back, tracing the contours of his muscles. He arched his back, pushing himself onto Masahiro's length, seeking more friction. "Yes, Masahiro… just like that," he whispered, his voice hoarse.Masahiro complied, his thrusts becoming more intense. He lifted Matthew's legs onto his shoulders, opening him up further, allowing for deeper penetration. Matthew's eyes fluttered shut as he surrendered to the pleasure, his body moving in sync with Masahiro's.Then, the piercing sound of a ringtone shattered the illusion.Ma
The warm spray of the shower cascaded over Matthew’s skin, the steady rhythm of the water offering a brief respite from the chaos in his mind. He leaned his forehead against the cool tiles, letting the stream wash away the grime of the day. Thoughts of Masahiro consumed him… their brief time together, the way Masahiro’s touch had felt like a lifeline, and how those days had been the closest thing to a dream he’d ever known.But dreams didn’t last, did they?The faint sound of footsteps reached his ears, and Matthew froze. His body tensed as his mind raced. Was it Cassidy? Had he followed him here? The thought sent a chill down his spine, but he shook it off, focusing on the present. Whatever. It was just Cassidy; he’d deal with it. He turned his attention back to the shower, keeping his ears tuned to the approaching presence.The footsteps stopped just outside the glass stall.Matthew’s instinct
The pulsing bass of the nightclub reverberated through Masahiro’s chest as he pushed through the crowded entrance of El Paradiso. The lights flashed in chaotic bursts of color, illuminating faces twisted in joy and desperation. For a moment, the energy of the crowd enveloped him, but as he stepped further inside, it became clear that this was not where he belonged.He wasn’t here for the drinks or the music; he was here to escape. But escaping from what? The ache of Matthew’s absence? The unrelenting pursuit of justice that had consumed him? Or perhaps the shadows of betrayal that lingered in his mind like a haunting melody?Masahiro leaned against the bar, nursing a drink that had long since gone warm. He scanned the room, searching for something… or someone… to pull him from the depths of his thoughts. But as he watched people laugh and dance, he felt more alone than ever. Matthew was everywhere and nowhere… the memories wrapped