Chapter 212 Chapter 0211

Chapter 212 Chapter 0211
The bedroom was quiet, except for the soft, steady breathing of Matthew curled up under the blankets.
Masahiro lay behind him, one arm draped over his waist, his body pressed against Matthew’s back.
Warm. Familiar. His favorite way to wake up.
He leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to the back of Matthew’s shoulder.
A sleepy mumble.
Then—
"If you're gonna start something, Masahiro, you better commit."
Masahiro huffed a quiet laugh. Of course. Even in sleep, Matthew was a menace.
He pressed another kiss, just to be difficult, before pulling away and reaching for his phone on the nightstand.
The sheets rustled as Matthew shifted behind him, probably sinking further into sleep, while Masahiro scrolled through his contacts.
Then—he called.
A click. A familiar voice.
“Brown here.”
Masahiro ran a hand through his hair, leaning back against the pillows. “Clark! How are you?”
A pause. Then, Clark’s dry, unmistakable voice.
“I’m fine. What about you?”
“Fine.” Masahiro’s tone was casual, measured. “Masahiro Payne here.”
Another pause. A subtle shift. Then—
“Oh.”
Masahiro smirked. Clark already knew.
"To what do I owe the honor?"
Masahiro exhaled slowly, getting to the point. "I got a case for you. Two, to be precise."
There was a longer pause this time. Masahiro could almost hear Clark calculating.
Because Clark Brown only ever got calls from him when things were burning down.
“…What’s the deal?”
Masahiro rubbed his temple. “Do you have time to come to the police station? It’s better to hear that in the first person.”
A moment of consideration. Then—
"What time?"
“10 AM.”
"Alright." A pause. Then, wryly—"I’ll be there. Try not to make me regret it."
Masahiro smirked. “No promises.”
A click. The call ended.
Masahiro sat up and typed out a quick message:
Good morning, Cooper. Got the lawyer. He will meet us at the station at 10 AM.
A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.
Arthur: Good morning, sir. Thank you, sir.
Masahiro let out a slow breath, rubbing his jaw.
And then—
Matthew shifted again.
Masahiro glanced over, only to find him now sprawled on his back, one arm thrown over his face.
The covers had slipped slightly, exposing the curve of his collarbone, the dip of his waist.
Masahiro smirked. Irresistible.
He leaned over, pressing lazy, slow kisses along Matthew’s neck, then his chest, trailing lower—
Matthew groaned, not in protest, but in the way someone does when they know exactly where this is going.
Then, voice still thick with sleep—“Again, if you’re gonna start something, Masahiro…”
Masahiro hummed against his skin, nipping lightly. “Not a morning person?”
Matthew huffed, cracking one eye open. “I am—just not for this.”
Masahiro raised a brow. “Liar.”
Matthew grinned, hooking a lazy arm around Masahiro’s shoulders. “You know, for someone so professional, you sure have a lot of morning energy.”
Masahiro smirked, his fingers tracing slow circles over Matthew’s stomach. “I believe in efficiency.”
Matthew snorted. “Is that what we’re calling it?”
Masahiro leaned in, voice low and warm against Matthew’s ear. “Would you prefer a more thorough demonstration?”
Matthew groaned, half-exasperated, half-amused.
Then—he flipped over, burying his face in the pillow.
“Absolutely not. We are not doing this before coffee.”
Masahiro sighed dramatically, pressing a lingering kiss to Matthew’s shoulder before finally pulling away.
“Coward,” he murmured, rolling out of bed.
“Dedicated to my priorities,” Matthew corrected, voice muffled against the pillow.
Masahiro chuckled, stretching as he headed toward the shower.
The sound of running water filled the quiet room, the soft patter against tile a steady rhythm. Matthew groaned and shifted, lazily rolling onto his back, blinking at the ceiling.
He considered getting up—considered—but the sheets were warm, and the weight of sleep still clung to his limbs.
Instead, he sprawled out further, stretching like a satisfied cat before letting his eyes drift closed again.
By the time the water shut off, he hadn’t moved an inch.
Steam curled from the bathroom door as Masahiro stepped out, towel slung over his shoulders, skin still damp from the shower.
The bedroom was exactly as he left it.
Which meant—
Matthew was still in bed.
Masahiro sighed, shaking his head as he walked toward the closet.
"Babe."
A muffled groan from the bed.
Masahiro pulled a pair of trousers off the hanger and started getting dressed. "Matthew."
Another groan. Then—
"What?"
Masahiro smirked. "I got the lawyer for Cassidy."
Silence.
Then, a lazy shift of sheets.
Masahiro fastened his belt, glancing over his shoulder to find Matthew now half-awake, blinking at him.
"Gonna come at ten," Masahiro continued, rolling up his sleeves before pulling on a shirt over his tank top. "Do you wanna come?"
Matthew stretched like a cat, smirking even half-asleep.
"Oh yeah, gotta see this circus firsthand."
Masahiro chuckled, shaking his head. “You better get up and have a shower then.”~
Matthew sighed dramatically, dragging himself out of bed. “Fine, but if the lawyer’s a prick, I reserve the right to be an asshole.”
Masahiro smirked. "So… like every other day?"
A middle finger from Matthew as he headed to the shower.
Masahiro finished dressing, adjusting his cuffs before walking out toward the kitchen.
He reached the coffee table and reached for the TV´s control and switched it on.
The TV flickered on with a low hum as Masahiro switched to the news, filling the space with background noise.
He grabbed a mug, filled it with coffee, and leaned against the counter, watching the screen.
The news anchor droned on about a drug bust, local politics, and an upcoming charity gala.
Typical.
The scent of fresh coffee filled the kitchen as he took a slow sip, letting the warmth settle him before the day ahead.
Then—
Footsteps.
Matthew walked in, hair still damp, wearing a fitted t-shirt, jeans, combat boots, and his usual biker jacket slung over his shoulders.
Masahiro glanced at him over the rim of his coffee cup.
"Casual."
Matthew smirked, grabbing a tin of cat food from the counter. "Didn’t realize I had to dress up to watch the legal system pretend it works."
Masahiro huffed a quiet laugh. “Clark’s not that bad.”
Matthew popped open the tin, dropping food into Clyde’s bowl as their orange tabby cat trotted into the kitchen.
"Yeah, well, if he gives you attitude, I’m gonna remind him he was once a government pawn like the rest of us."
Masahiro smirked. “You do that.”
Clyde let out a soft mrrp before digging into her food.
Matthew grabbed a cup of coffee for himself, leaning against the counter beside Masahiro.
For a moment, they just stood there.
Quiet. Familiar. Comfortable.
Masahiro set his empty cup down. “We should head out.”
Matthew took another sip before shrugging. “Let’s go see what kind of shitshow today brings.”
Masahiro chuckled, grabbing his keys.
And just like that, they were off.
The morning air was crisp as they stepped outside, the quiet hum of the city beginning to stir around them. Masahiro locked the door behind them while Matthew stretched, rolling his shoulders like he hadn’t fully shaken off sleep.
They walked to the car in comfortable silence, the weight of the day ahead pressing against them but not yet unbearable.
Masahiro slid into the driver’s seat with practiced ease, adjusting the mirrors out of habit. Matthew, on the other hand, flopped into the passenger seat with all the grace of a man who knew he didn’t have to drive.
The engine purred to life.
The car hummed smoothly as they pulled onto the main road, the early morning cityscape stretching out before them.

Masahiro drove with his usual precision—one hand on the wheel, the other resting comfortably on the gearshift.
Matthew, in contrast, was completely relaxed in the passenger seat.
Boot propped against the dash, head tilted slightly toward the window, like he had all the time in the world.
It was quiet.
For about three minutes.
Then Matthew felt it.
That stare.
He exhaled through his nose, fighting a smirk.
"Masahiro," he drawled, still watching the passing buildings.
No response.
Matthew tilted his head slightly, knowing damn well his boyfriend was still looking at him.
"Masahiro."
Masahiro hummed, eyes still on the road, but the corners of his lips twitched.
Matthew turned fully now, smirking. "I know that stare."
Masahiro remained composed, unreadable.
"Do you?"

Matthew barked out a laugh. "Oh, come on. That’s the same damn look you give me when you want a morning fuck."

Masahiro kept his hands steady on the wheel, gaze locked on the road ahead.
Didn’t deny it.
Didn’t even blink.
Matthew grinned, shifting slightly in his seat. "You’re a machine. I swear to God, it’s unnatural."
Masahiro finally exhaled a quiet chuckle. "I have a healthy sex drive."
"That’s a fucking understatement."
Masahiro smirked. “You weren’t complaining last night.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because last night I had energy.”
Masahiro glanced at him briefly, amused. “Weak.”
Matthew scoffed. “Oh, I’m so sorry I have normal stamina like a regular human being.”
Masahiro didn’t even look at him this time.
"You could keep up if you really wanted to."
Matthew gaped.
Then—laughed, incredulous.
“Oh, fuck you,” he said, shaking his head. “You say that like I don’t try! You break people, Masahiro.”
Masahiro shrugged. "You’re still standing."
"Barely!"
Masahiro smirked again, watching the road like they weren’t having this absurd conversation.
Matthew leaned his head back against the seat, shaking his head. “I swear, you could weaponize that stamina.”
Masahiro hummed thoughtfully. "It does have its benefits."
Matthew snorted. "Yeah, I know."
Masahiro glanced at him again, that stare back in full force.
Matthew caught it immediately and groaned. “Jesus Christ, we’re about to walk into the station, and you’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”
Masahiro exhaled through his nose, looking far too pleased with himself.
Matthew narrowed his eyes. "You are a sex machine."
Masahiro finally smirked, turning into the police station’s lot.
“Just efficient.”
He parked smoothly in his usual spot, cutting the engine.
Matthew rubbed a hand over his face, still grinning."Y’know," he said, stepping out of the car, "one day, your stamina is gonna backfire. Mark my words."
Masahiro shut the door, giving him a dry, unimpressed look. "Noted."
Matthew shook his head, muttering, "Fucking machine…"
Masahiro smirked, adjusting his sleeves as they walked inside.
It was business now.
Cassidy’s case.
Arthur.
Clark Brown.
The mess ahead.
Masahiro exhaled, pushing all other thoughts aside.
\`Time to work.´