Jordan yawned and wrapped his hands around his coffee mug. He didn’t want to have this meeting. He’d been worried, so he’d put off his meeting with Gus until he could bring Devon in. That might have been the single smartest thing he’d done in this lifetime, and he didn’t care who knew it.

Devon’s hours were hugely antisocial, but that wasn’t a problem for Jordan. Jordan made his own hours, more or less, so he could set his schedule to accommodate Devon’s wacky chef schedule. So, apparently, could Gus, and at the drop of a hat too.

“I have no idea what Gus does for a job,” Jordan commented as the realization dawned. He took a gulp from his coffee and put it down again. “No idea — none.”

“My best guess, after what you told me? He’s a plant. Works for the feds, or maybe Boston police.” Devon made a face. “Bastards. We’re out here trying to save the world and stuff, and they’re here trying to frame us for crimes.”

“He could just be an incredibly inept tool.” Jordan stared at his sandwich. “Never forget the sheer destructive power of incompetence.”

“True that.” Devon chugged his coffee. “Is iceberg lettuce supposed to be that color?”

“I don’t know.” Jordan poked at his lettuce. “Maybe the FBI per diem is on the low side. This diner always was a dump.”

“It was a rhetorical question, anyway.” Devon rolled his eyes. “So, things are going pretty well for you and Alex, huh?”

Jordan blushed deeply. “I mean yeah, but I’m not going to sit here and kiss and tell. He’s amazing, but you already knew that because you live with him.”

“I don’t date him, though, and he’s kind of a ghost around the house. He sleeps, gets up, and maybe once a week he frowns at our roommates and tries to clean a few things.”

He chuckled and took a bite of his sandwich, then made a face and put it down. “How do you screw up a damn Reuben? It’s so simple even Myles could do it, I swear to God.

“Anyway, I’m glad. You guys are both awesome, and you both deserve to have someone good in your life who makes you happy, you know?”

Jordan smiled again and sank down a little in his seat. “Every time I think about Alex, I turn into a little puddle of mush or something,” he confessed. “It would be sad, but I’m too happy to be sad.”

“Pathetic,” Devon teased. “Seriously, though. I’m glad. Heads up, narc at one o’clock.”

Gus had just entered the crowded, greasy diner. He shouldered his way through the patrons to slip into their booth, a vulpine smile on his round face. “Hey, guys, how’s it going?”

Jordan tried not to be obvious as he looked Gus over. He didn’t think he’d recognize any but the most obvious recording devices, and the FBI was way too sophisticated to use anything less than subtle. “It’s going pretty well, Gus. How about with you, man?”

“It’s going pretty well.” Gus caught the harried waitress’ eye and ordered a grilled cheese. Devon recoiled a little, but if Gus ate here often, he’d probably developed immunity to whatever was wrong with the food here by now. “So what’s on your mind, Jordan? Did you give some thought to what I asked you the other day?”

Jordan nodded, and he scratched just behind his ear. “I’m a little uncomfortable with it, Gus. I mean, think about it for a second, would you? You reached out to me and asked me to not only commit a crime, but to draw someone else into a crime. Someone wholly unrelated to the organization and to the cause. And you did it in writing, where it could be sure to leave a paper trail. I’m sure you can see where this would make me nervous.”

Gus scoffed. “Come on, Jordan. I was using one of those secure chat apps. No one could be listening in.”

“Unless the one sending the message was the one looking to do the spying.” Devon pushed his foul Reuben away. “It’s funny, Gus. You offer to pick up the tab for things like this, but you never have told us where your money comes from.”

“I make money as a writer.” Gus glanced between them. A bead of sweat dripped from his head.

“Nah. I can’t find a thing you’ve written, and you don’t ever carry a laptop. Been to your apartment, too. You’re not paying for that on a writer’s salary, man.” Devon cracked his knuckles and glanced over at Jordan.

Jordan’s stomach fluttered. “I’ve got to know, Gus. Are you a Fed?”

Gus sighed. “What tipped you off?”

“The entrapment, genius.” Jordan scowled. “I’m not feeling good about that, by the way. Not even a little bit.”

“It’s not entrapment.” Gus glowered at him. “You make all your own choices.”

“I’m pretty sure most courts have seen it differently. When the federal agent is the one coming up with crimes, and inciting people to commit those crimes, it’s usually entrapment. Thankfully, we figured you out before you dragged us into something stupid and cost an innocent man his livelihood.”

Devon crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s my roommate, asshole. I need him to pay his share of the rent. I don’t think I’m going to be forgiving you that.”

“And you don’t think the US government thinks energy security is an issue?” Gus leaned forward. “Depending on foreign oil leaves us vulnerable—”

“Shut up, Gus.” Jordan held up a hand. “You’re a narc. We don’t listen to narcs. Just … just shut up, would you?

“Anyway. Whatever you thought you were going to accomplish by hiding out in the org, it’s over. We’re telling everyone in Boston who you are and what you’re doing. So you’d better look forward to rocking a desk, because your undercover days are over.”

“Don’t you care about your country’s security?” Gus sneered at them.

“Sure,” Devon said. “We care a lot. That’s why we fight so hard. And hey, maybe you’ll tell future agents not to use illegal methods to try to entrap people who are trying to help save American lives.”

Devon stood up. “Asshole.” He headed toward the exit, and Jordan followed. He didn’t have anything left to say to Gus.

Devon was shaking with anger by the time they got out. “I can’t believe the nerve of that guy! Plus, now I’m hungry.”

The noise and smells of perpetual construction assaulted Jordan as they stepped out onto the sidewalk. Once, this part of Chinatown had been known as the Combat Zone. Now it was just known as A Mess.

Fortunately, pedestrians could get out of the mess quickly enough, and make their way to South Station and the Financial District in minutes. It would take drivers forever, but that was Boston for you.

“Here’s an Au Bon Pain. We can grab something to eat.” Jordan smiled softly. “And hey — I can grab something for Alex while I’m here. I mean, the building is right there, and I want to make him smile a little.”

Devon rolled his eyes and groaned theatrically, but he was grinning the whole time. “Oh my God, you’re ridiculous.”

They grabbed sandwiches in the shop, and Jordan got a pastry for Alex while he was at it. Alex had always loved almond croissants when they’d been kids. Sure, they were calorie bombs, but it wasn’t like a once-in-a-while treat would kill him. He and Devon composed messages about Gus to send to all of their social media outlets while they ate, and when they were done they headed toward the Charles River Bank building.

“It feels weird going toward it without signs and a megaphone,” Devon told him.

“Right?” Jordan squirmed. “I’m going to need a shower after we leave this place. But hey, it’s worth it.”

They headed up to the third floor, where the receptionist gave Jordan a deeply suspicious look when he asked to speak to Alex Lopez in Institutional Investing. She sent a message up and told him someone would be with him shortly.

“I don’t want to see ‘someone,’” Jordan whispered to Devon as they sat on a couch on the other side of the reception area. “The only person in this place I ever want to see, at all, is Alex.”

“It’s probably just corporate speak.” Devon curled his lip at the bland decor around them. “I think I’m getting a rash from this place. Am I getting a rash? Hives?”

Five minutes later, someone got off of an elevator. Jordan didn’t recognize him, and would have ignored him just as he had everyone else, but Devon tensed up when he saw him.

The stranger wore an expensive, dark-colored suit, with a white dress shirt underneath that had French cuffs and cufflinks that probably cost more than Jordan’s parents’ house. He had dark blond hair, a chiseled jaw, and full pouty lips that had probably never found pleasure with anything.

“I understand you came to see Alex Lopez,” he said, and stuck his jaw out. “I’m Chad Milton. I’m his supervisor.”

Devon scoffed. “You’re not his supervisor, Chad. You’re his ex. His supervisor’s name is Anna Hyde. What are you really doing down here?”

Chad looked over at Devon as if he were seeing him for the first time. “Oh. Hm. I didn’t recognize you out of uniform. Don’t you work at that little restaurant thing? I’m sure you have to be running along now. Wouldn’t want to miss a single hour of pay, would you?

“Listen, whether or not I have the title of supervisor, I work very closely with Alex, and I supervise a lot of his work. He can’t come down to frolic with the help and a scruffy no-name artist from Southie, all right?

“Alex is at work. I get that this is a difficult concept for your sort, but Alex is going somewhere. He’s very busy, doing important things for important people.

“He’s making a lot of money for this bank, and some very senior people are noticing. The last thing he, or anyone else, needs is to have you showing up out of the blue and ruining everything.”

Jordan stood up and stepped closer to this Chad guy. Devon had said Chad was an ex of Alex’s, but that didn’t give him any power over Jordan.

“Who the hell are you? Just because you work here doesn’t mean you get to decide who he sees and who he doesn’t. I’m sure you get visitors, this Anna Hyde person gets visitors, the receptionist with the exceptional curl to her lip gets visitors, now you want me to believe Alex isn’t allowed visitors?”

“Visitors are one thing. Scum is something else. I’m not going to have you turning his head, Davenport. Not now, not ever. You stay the hell away from this bank, or I’ll make sure we get a court order demanding it.”

Devon grabbed Jordan’s shoulder. “Come on, man. Chad’s been a prick his whole life; you’re not going to give him a decent personality with a talking-to.”

He pulled Jordan toward the elevator. Jordan was tempted to fight him off, but he didn’t want to get arrested fighting Alex’s ex at Alex’s office. He let Devon drag him away.

Since Devon had to get to work, Jordan went home alone. He ate the pastry he’d bought for Alex, since he had nothing else to do with it, and pouted for a while. Around seven that evening, he sent Alex a text.

Did you send that Chad guy downstairs to tell us to go away?

Alex’s response was immediate. Huh? What are you talking about? You came to the bank? Why didn’t anyone tell me?

You’d have to ask Chad.

I’ll take it up with him. Alex added an angry emoji, and Jordan didn’t think Alex was lying. I’m sorry I missed you. It would have been great to see you today. It’s been a long day, and it would have made the day go by a lot faster.

Next time, I’ll just text you directly.

What are you doing right now? Alex sent back.

Nothing. Want to come over?

I’m on my way.

Jordan smiled and settled back into his couch cushions. He had what he needed. He had Alex’s heart, and Alex would deal with the overzealous ex. The guy was probably just jealous anyway. Who wouldn’t be, if they’d been dumb enough to lose Alex?

A little while later, Jordan let Alex into his apartment. “Long day at work, hm?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. Alex looked exhausted, and Jordan didn’t really need to ask the question.

He just wanted to be polite, and maybe call Alex’s attention to the way the bank was running him into the ground. He was pretty sure Alex already knew, but why take chances?

“Yeah, well, you know how it is." Alex kissed his cheek and eased into the tiny apartment. “There’s been a lot going on, and I’ve been doing some extra work for the Fixed Income team, so that’s been exciting. But it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve missed you, you know."

Jordan followed Alex inside and sat beside him on the couch. “More than you’ve missed your roommates?” he teased. “Devon told me your things on the cooking shelf have gotten dusty.”

Alex chuckled. “Yeah, well, they probably have. They were dusty before you and I got together, and they’d be dusty if we split up tomorrow. Which I have no intention of doing."

He leaned up against Jordan, resting his head on Jordan’s shoulder. Jordan breathed deep, taking in the familiar scent of Alex’s cheap shampoo.

“And yes, I have missed you more than I’ve missed them. You’ve never had a bdsm scene in our living room. And they don’t have your eyes."

Alex kissed Jordan’s face, right next to his eyes. “Or your mouth." He kissed Jordan’s lips. “Or your hands." He took Jordan’s hands and kissed each of them. “Or your cock.”

Jordan chuckled. “If you keep going, we’ll never get dinner. We’ll never even make it off the couch.”

Alex climbed up onto Jordan’s lap, straddling him, and holy crap this had escalated quickly. Jordan hadn’t wanted to assume anything, because he knew how tired Alex was, but here he was raring and ready to go. He was hard inside his dress pants, and just knowing Alex wanted him this much made Jordan want him even more.

He carefully stripped Alex of his suit, even though all he wanted right now was to tear his clothes off and fling them into a corner. Those suits weren’t cheap, and Alex was always worrying about money. It wouldn’t be much fun to distract him with concerns about cleaning costs. Even as Alex peeled himself out of the outfit, though, he seemed to want to minimize the time he spent away from Jordan’s body.

Jordan didn’t mind that one bit. He took advantage of the time to get naked himself, eager to have as much skin-to-skin contact as he could get. God, Alex’s flesh felt so good against his own, from his bare chest to his solid thighs to his solid dick, tall and proud in its thatch of hair.

“Want you so bad right now,” Alex whispered into his ear, breath hot against Jordan’s face. “I need it, Jordan. I need you.”

Jordan groaned. How was he supposed to resist that? Between the smell of him, and the feel of him, and the sight of those eyes burning into his soul, Jordan was lost. “Just one problem, Alex. I don’t keep stuff in the living room. This isn’t a porno.”

Alex chuckled and reached for his briefcase. Jordan had thought he was just being a little slovenly, leaving his briefcase by the couch instead of hanging it up by the door like he usually did. Now, as Alex reached in to pull out lube and condoms, he admired his boyfriend’s foresight.

“Boy scout,” he accused.

“Pretty sure they frown on this,” Alex told him with a wink, pressing the lube into Jordan’s hand as a less than subtle hint. He rocked his hips, sliding his cock along Jordan’s in a demanding expression of need. “I need this, Jordan.”

Jordan didn’t have to be told twice. He slicked his fingers with lube and worked the first one into Alex. Just like that, half of the tension evaporated from Alex’s shoulders. Alex gave him a happy little sigh, and Jordan took that as permission to keep going.

When he’d prepped Alex as much as he could, he rolled the condom onto himself, and slicked himself up. Alex sank down slowly, inexorably, until he was fully seated on top of Jordan.

Alex moaned when Jordan bottomed out, burying his face in Jordan’s neck. For a second Jordan wondered if he’d gone too fast or hadn’t done enough prep, but Alex put that thought to rest in minutes. “My God, you feel so good inside me, Jordan. I wish there was a way to show you, to make you feel exactly what I’m feeling right now.”

Jordan kissed him then. Alex could say what he wanted, but whatever he was feeling couldn’t compare to the sheer joy of being buried deep inside of Alex – Alex straddling him, gravity pulling them together, and Alex wanting and needing this so badly. It was even more of a rush than getting the city to pull out of the pipeline, or getting a corrupt cop fired.

It was Alex, and that made all the difference.

When Alex started to move, impaling himself over and over on Jordan’s stiff cock, Jordan knew he wouldn’t last long. It was just too much — the elation, the joy, the excitement. It was overwhelming. He took Alex’s cock in his hand and jerked in time with the rhythm Alex himself set, determined not to let him go unsatisfied.

It built and built until Jordan erupted inside of Alex, crying out as he redoubled his efforts to bring Alex over the edge with him. That didn’t take long, either. Alex spilled hot and thick onto Jordan’s hand, all but collapsing over Jordan as his release left him.

They stayed there, just like that, for a few minutes. Neither of them wanted to move, and Jordan didn’t have roommates to be horrified or disgusted by the sight. Jordan didn’t suggest moving until he started to get cold, and even then Alex whimpered at the shift.

“Come on, I promise blankets and a nice soft bed." Jordan helped Alex to his feet.

“And showers in the morning?” Alex murmured.

“Only if I get to take your picture. I’ve got an exhibition coming up, and I’d love to feature you.”

Alex blushed, but he nodded. “Deal.”