Will paced up and down the small apartment. Mallory might have been a fairly well-known jewelry thief but she wasn’t astronomically rich. Her apartment was a small studio, with just the one room—it had a small balcony, and an open kitchen on one end where the door was, and then a living area. There was the television, with a couch that turned into a bed, and a chair, and a coffee table with some bookshelves lining the walls along with some artwork. Will didn’t know if the artwork was genuine and stolen or just very good forgeries. When he’d asked Patrick, Patrick had just smiled at him.

The thought of Patrick made Will’s stomach twist.

Why was an international thief and conman, of all people, letting fear rule him? He certainly wasn’t letting fear, or common sense, get in his way when it came to taking revenge on Keene. Why was he letting it stop him when it came to love? Was Will not good enough for him?

He knew that he should go to bed. He had a lot to worry about. Now that Keene had made it clear what his intentions were, they had about a week for Keene to get settled into his role and then they would help him break the bank. Then, when he came back for more, they’d strip him.

Just nine days. Nine days, and then he could get away from Monte Carlo and gambling and the stupid, stupid man that stole his heart like he apparently stole everything else.

He sank down onto the couch. Stupid. If anyone was stupid it was him. He should have known that he’d get swept up in someone like Patrick. He’d never been in love before, but he’d never gotten to spend so much time with a person before. In some ways Patrick had seen more of him, and he’d seen more of Patrick, then anyone else in his life. The way that Patrick looked at him when Will was wearing one of his nice suits. The way that Patrick used dry humor to deflect and hide the way he was really feeling. The way that Patrick could turn soft and would let Will touch him, comfort him, make him smile. He liked taking care of Patrick, and how Patrick would take care of Will in return—because Patrick did take care of him, buying things and making plans and arranging everything. He was taking care of Will whether he’d admit it or not, and Will just wanted to take the opportunity to take care of him in return the way that he knew Patrick wanted him to, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

But that was all gone, now. Patrick had made his choice, and Will had to respect it, as much as he knew that he and Patrick would both be much happier together.

There was a knock at the door.

Will shot up, automatically dropping into the fight position. He hadn’t gotten into a fistfight in a couple of years, not since before the heist and the running, but old habits die hard. He’d grown up scrapping all the time, often with men bigger than he was.

The knock came again, five knocks in a distinctive pattern. It was the pattern that he and Patrick had established, the one that let the other one know who it was.

Part of Will wanted to just leave the guy outside, but it might be important. Keene might have found out something more. He might have seen Will going to Patrick’s room, as unlikely as it was. Patrick might be in danger.

That last thought made bile rise in his throat and he threw open the door.

Patrick stood there, something in his hand. He looked wrecked.

“You’re right,” he admitted.

“What?”

Patrick shoved past Will and closed the door behind him. Will turned, automatically, watching as Patrick sat down heavily on the couch. “You were right.”

“In what way?”

“I’m not giving up on this job. I can’t. I have to do this for my aunt. I think that you’re right though, she would have wanted me to be happy, and I think…”

He held up the thing he was holding in his hand, and Will saw that it was paper. Or, more specifically, sketches on paper.

Sketches of Will.

Patrick had clearly been drawing from memory, since Will couldn’t remember Patrick ever having drawing supplies near him except for that one time when he’d found him on his early walk. Will took the papers and looked at them.

“These are good,” Will noted. “Patrick, these are… you’re brilliant, love.”

In these sketches, Will didn’t look like himself. Or, he did, but he looked… different. He looked handsome. The way the shadows and light played on his face, the line of his jaw and his nose, the way his hair curled… was that how Patrick saw him?

He looked up and saw Patrick staring at him. He realized, with a start, that Patrick’s eyes were rimmed red, like maybe he’d been crying.

“When you left, I…I just lay on the bed. I did some thinking…and the thought—the thought of not getting to see you again, that was the worst. If I can’t back down about this con, then, why am I backing down about you? Both are probably stupid ideas, but, they’re what I want. When I’m with you, I feel… like I actually like who I am. I like that you see through me, and that you touch me and you—dammit, I feel safe with you, and I haven’t felt that way in years. I want to hold on to that.” Patrick laughed, self-deprecatingly. “It helps that you’re pretty damn sexy.”

“Yeah, I can tell you think that.” Will said, waving around the sketches. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling himself blush. “I didn’t think—these are, they make me look…”

“It’s how I see you.” Patrick shrugged. “I don’t have much else to do, when you’re at work. I just sit around until it’s time to play my part.”

Will stared at him.

“You’re right. I—I want to be with you. I like who I am with you and I like…I like you. And I’m sorry. You are worth the risk. You’re worth it.”

Will dropped the sketches onto the coffee table, moving before he even realized he wanted to move, yanking Patrick up so that he could hold him. Patrick practically collapsed into him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and neck and holding on for all he was worth. Will tightened his grip, rubbing his hands soothingly over Patrick’s back, burying his face into Patrick’s neck to smell his scent and feel his warmth.

“You’re worth it,” Patrick whispered again. “I’m sorry, I was scared and pushing you away.”

“I’m just glad that you’re here,” Will confessed.

Patrick pulled back, and he looked scared but also determined. Will couldn’t help it. He leaned in, slowly enough that Patrick could stop him if he wanted, and kissed him.

There was a moment where Patrick was a little stiff, surprised, perhaps, but then he was kissing Will back desperately, hungrily, like he thought he’d never get another chance.

“Hey, hey,” Will whispered, peppering kisses all along Patrick’s cheeks and jaw. “We have time, love. We’ve got time.”

Patrick seemed to relax a little, and Will kept kissing him, slowly and deeply and then with little kisses, until Patrick was completely pliant and matching his slower pace.

Then Patrick was turning him, shoving him down onto the couch, and sinking to his knees.

Will just about lost all the breath in his body.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I met you,” Patrick admitted.

“Are—you—you’re gonna just—okay,” Will stuttered, as Patrick started undoing his pants.

“By the way, I was a bit of a perfectionist as a teenager,” Patrick said, pulling Will’s pants down and stroking along the length of Will’s dick. Will’s breath stuttered in his chest. “So I learned how to do this.”

Then he swallowed Will down practically to the hilt.

Will shouted, digging his hands into the couch to keep from burying them into Patrick’s hair. He didn’t want to hurt him but oh God, oh fucking God…

“How the hell?” He asked, panting hard. It was all heat and hot suction and he couldn’t— “This is going—Patrick, hey, darling, this is going to be over sooner than you want it if you don’t stop.”

Patrick pulled up, his lips red and swollen and slick with spit and precome. “You sure about that? ‘Cause I really like the idea of—”

“Don’t even think of finishing that sentence.” Will tried to get his breathing under control. Holy shit.

“Well in that case…” Patrick seemed to think for a moment. “How about we—”

Will yanked him back up and kissed him, licking the taste from his mouth. “We have to turn this into a bed first.”

Patrick laughed. “I had forgotten about that.”

Will hurriedly got the bed set up while Patrick, still laughing, yanked off his clothes. “This is terribly romantic,” Patrick said.

“Oh, shut up,” Will replied, no real heat in his tone, as he finally was able to pull Patrick in again and kiss him for all he was worth.

They tumbled into the bed, a mash of arms and legs and roaming hands. Patrick groaned beautifully, letting Will roll him over onto his back and kiss his way down his chest.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about as well,” Will confessed, and then he carefully spread Patrick’s legs and licked around his entrance.

Patrick gasped, arching up, and Will had to use all of his strength to hold Patrick down and keep him from accidentally bucking Will up off the bed. Will chuckled. He liked seeing Patrick like this. It’d been too long since he’d gotten to see him in this state.

Will worked him open slowly, ignoring how Patrick kept trying to buck his hips up. “Patience,” he murmured.

Patrick huffed at him. “How the hell am I supposed to be patient when you’re—” He cut himself off with a groan as Will finally worked two fingers inside of him, moving slowly but surely until he found the spot that made Patrick cry out.

“God, you look perfect just like this, pengting,” Will promised him, no longer having to hide his accent. “Could keep you like this all night.”

Patrick sank a hand into his hair and Will all but purred, loving the feel of Patrick tugging gently at the strands. “C’mon,” Patrick groused. “I can take more, you know I can.”

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Will admitted, but he added a third finger anyway, and Patrick began making lovely groaning, gasping noises. He stroked his fingers over that perfect spot again and again, until Patrick was yanking at his hair and digging his heels into Will’s shoulder to get him to hurry it up.

“Will, I swear to God, if you don’t get inside me right the fuck now,” Patrick warned.

“Bossy, bossy,” Will teased. “How do you want it? On your knees or…”

Patrick shook his head. “Next time. Right now, I want to see your face.”

Will reached up to run his knuckles gently over the curve of Patrick’s cheekbone. “Perfect, love.”

He moved up again and Patrick kissed him hungrily, sliding his hands over the planes of Will’s back like he was trying to map out every inch of him by touch alone. Will never wanted Patrick to stop touching him, never wanted Patrick to leave his sight again. In fact he was seriously considering the idea of neither of them ever leaving the bed, just spending the rest of their time wrapped up in each other. He’d hardly gotten to see Patrick since Keene arrived and half of it had been them fighting. He didn’t want that anymore.

“Ready?” He asked, double-checking. A part of him felt like he wasn’t just asking about the sexual act in this moment. It felt like he was asking about everything, the rest of their lives, them.

Patrick seemed to sense that because he pulled back, bringing both of his hands up to frame Will’s face. “Yes,” he whispered, his blue eyes bright and solemn.

Will tried to enter slowly, Patrick was still impatient and thrust his hips up. Will choked, struggling not to lose it completely as he felt himself fully sheathed inside of all that tight heat. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he admitted. “Swear down.”

“Good, it’s what you get for making me break all of my rules,” Patrick replied.

Will felt himself smiling and ducked his head down to brush his nose up against Patrick’s. “What’d I tell you about how I can see right through you, pengting, hmm?”

Patrick rolled his eyes but he was smiling as well, and then Will couldn’t wait any longer. He started to move, thrusting slowly but deeply, trying to keep touching as much of Patrick as he could. He couldn’t stop kissing him, over and over again, needing the taste of his tongue and the soft clinging of his lips. No matter how much he tried to drag it out though, he only had so much self-control, and it was hard not to move quickly when Patrick was urging him on, all but begging him, wrapping his legs around him and telling him faster, harder, deeper, please Will please. Will couldn’t say no to that. He sucked right at Patrick’s jawline where he’d touched him that one time, remembering how he’d promised himself he’d leave a mark there. He was doing it now, marking him up, making it so that nobody could look at him and not know that they belonged together. He kept going, kissing and nipping and moving, always moving, until his movements became desperate and it was all nothing but the perfect pressure and heat, clenching around him and making him shout.

His arms trembled, but he could feel Patrick’s desperation, the way he trembled, and so he pulled out reluctantly. Patrick gasped, frustrated at the loss, but then Will was bending down to take Patrick into his mouth. All’s fair and all that.

He only had to go down a few times, swirling his tongue around the head, before Patrick was arching up desperately, his whole body going rigid as he came, gasping desperately like there was no air left in the room.

Will finally let his arms give out, resting his cheek on Patrick’s hip. Both of them were a mess and he was definitely going to have to get these sheets cleaned before Mallory came back. He’d never met her in person but he had a feeling that if she knew that they’d nearly destroyed her bed, she’d kill the both of them.

“Next time,” Patrick groused, “I’m going to tie you down and ride you until you’re begging, you asshole.”

“Had to be thorough, didn’t I?” Will replied. “Couldn’t hurt you, love.”

Patrick grumbled something unintelligible. Will hauled himself up so that he could rest on his side and look down into Patrick’s face. “What’s that then?”

Patrick was blushing, that adorable pink tinge on his cheeks. “I said… it’s stupid. Forget it.”

“Nah, go on.” Will gently ran his hand through Patrick’s ash blond hair, getting it out of his eyes. “Nothing you say is stupid.”

Patrick’s blush deepened. “It’s just that—I like when you, call me things. Like… I just, I like it.”

Will thought his grin might split his face. It certainly felt like it would. “Guess I’ll just have to keep on doing it, won’t I pengting?”

“I looked that word up, you know,” Patrick said.

“What? It means beautiful.”

Patrick snorted. “It means sexy and it’s possibly a bit derogatory, don’t even try to lie.”

“Stop trying to pretend you don’t like it. There’s no saving your dignity now, I already know you like how I talk.”

“I’m going to regret admitting that, aren’t I?”

“Possibly.” Will couldn’t stop grinning. He craned his head down and kissed Patrick again, just because he could. “We’re going to crush Keene.”

“Yes.” Patrick wrapped his arms around Will’s neck, keeping him pinned there next to him, half on top of him, in fact, and Will worried a bit about making it hard for him to breathe but Patrick seemed content like this. “We’re going to crush him. And then… I was thinking… Japan? I know this one guy, he can make sure the police don’t even think to look for you.”

“You really don’t do things halfway, do you?” Will asked.

Patrick shrugged, looking rather self-deprecating. “Not really.”

Will laughed.

“I just might have to keep you,” he declared.

“Oh, good,” Patrick replied. “I was a little unsure about your feelings, what with the multiple declarations about liking me and the fantastic sex and all that.”

Will just had to kiss him for that.