All Chapters of Gold & Sand: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

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 He glanced around, taking in the outdated decor and the overwhelming sense of forced charm.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

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

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;

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.

The beer bottles on the table formed a neat little graveyard, each one marking another step into Matthew’s unraveling night. Masahiro was sitting beside him, arms crossed, his piercing gaze locked on the man before him. He wasn’t drinking, wasn’t even pretending to enjoy himself. Instead, he was watching Matthew with an expression that hovered somewhere between anger and disdain. “You’re a mess,” Masahiro finally said, his voice clipped. “You lost focus, and now we’re wasting time.”Matthew chuckled, low and humorless, tipping his beer bottle toward Masahiro in mock salute. “Relax, Detective. Cassidy’s spilling his guts tomorrow. Mission accomplished.” “That’s not the point.” Masahiro’s voice dropped, cold and sharp. “You’re reckless, and you’re dragging me down with you. You don’t care about anything except whatever feels good in the moment.” Matthew turned in his seat, leaning lazily on the table as he regarded Masahiro with a crooked grin. “You make it sound like such a bad thin