The Jameson has gone to your head, Cortland.

Not that they’d had all that much, and what they had drunk seemed to mostly burn away when their conversation - the longest and weirdest and coolest conversation of Cort’s life - had turned to the crash. But what other explanation could there be for Cort suddenly finding himself in an elevator standing oh-so-close to Cam Seaver - the younger brother of a man Cort despised, and exactly the kind of entitled, rich-kid asshole Cort had always hated?

Except Cam wasn’t like that at all.

Cort had come here tonight with only one item on his agenda - to find Cam Seaver and do some firsthand reconnaissance. All the evidence suggested that to find Damon, Cort needed to score himself an invitation to the Tyndalls’ gala on St. Brigitte. But without his FBI connections or any social pedigree of his own, it meant cozying up to someone with an invite, or possibly blackmailing them. Using the very assholes who’d stolen Damon’s life from him had seemed like poetic justice, and Cam Seaver was by all accounts the weaker link. So, he’d put together a folder on Cam with everything from Cam’s impressive SAT scores to the kind of car he drove, but he’d known he’d need a lot more information than that. Tonight’s goal had been to figure out what made the younger Seaver tick - what his strengths and weaknesses were.

Liking the guy - genuinely, down-deep, liking him – had not been part of the plan.

He’d been staring at Cam’s picture for the past few weeks, but weirdly enough, Cort hadn’t immediately recognized the man when he stepped into the ballroom. Maybe it was because the picture was a couple of years out of date, or maybe it was because Cort had been looking for Sebastian Seaver’s kid brother - a short kid with dark hair and freckles.

What Cort had found, when a busty blonde near the door had been helpful enough to point him in the right direction, was definitely not a kid. Cam was all man, and gorgeous to boot.

His jaw was sharp as a knife, and the cleft in his chin was completely lickable - not a word Cort had ever applied to another man before. His eyes were pale enough to be noticeable from across the room, and his lips. Holy hell. Plump and wide, like a wet dream come to life. Yeah, Cam wasn’t built like most of the guys Cort had dated, but there was strength in the line of his shoulders and the column of his back. At the bar, Cam had said he was a runner, and Cort could totally see it in the fluid movement of Cam’s body and the way his pants hugged the contours of his ass. He’d never felt such an instantaneous attraction before, nor such a fucking inconvenient one.

Cort glanced at the man beside him as the elevator hit the roof deck. It appeared nobody else had the crazy idea to hang out on the roof this late at night since they had the elevator to themselves. Cam’s visible tension was amusing and fascinating and arousing as hell, like everything Cort had learned about the man from the moment they’d sat at the bar, when Cam had engaged one of the cleaning staff in a long and cheerful conversation about her family back in Honduras in fluent Spanish. He’d quickly realized the Cam Seaver on paper couldn’t hold a candle to the complex, fascinating man himself.

The doors opened, and Cort ushered Cam forward, placing his hand on the small of his back. Cam shivered at the contact, and Cort felt the same current flow through him. His dick thickened beneath the outrageously expensive suit he’d bought just for tonight, fast and painful enough to remind him how completely off-the-rails this evening had gotten.

He hadn’t thought of Sebastian Seaver at all tonight, except when Cam was talking about his parents’ deaths, and even then Cort hadn’t felt the same burning anger, the same driving need to clear Damon’s name that he usually felt when he thought of the crash.

He’d felt Cam’s pain, confusion, and anger instead, every emotion clearly broadcast on the man’s beautiful face.

So even though the trained investigator in him wanted to capitalize on the trust he’d established, to push for more information he could use later, Cort couldn’t bring himself to do it. Some other part of himself, a part he barely recognized, compelled him to offer Cam something genuine, instead.

They walked through the small elevator lobby, then Cort scanned his hotel keycard and pushed open the doors to the outdoor pool deck. Though the air was cooler than it had been earlier in the day, it clung to his skin, heavy and damp, like the precursor to a thunderstorm. Even the street noise below was nothing but a distant hum, nearly drowned out by the soft gurgle of the water lapping against the edges of the pool. They were cocooned in their own little bubble. It was eerie but beautiful.

“Watch your step,” Cort warned, as he propelled Cam towards the far side of the deck, near the high glass enclosure which provided a stunning view of the city. They looked out over the lights silently for a moment. Cam drew a little closer.

What the hell am I doing here?

But when Cam finally turned to him, those light blue eyes of his wide and anxious, and voiced the same question, “What are we doing, Cort?,” Cort didn’t make excuses, and he didn’t turn to leave. Instead, he slipped off his own suit jacket and kicked off his shoes, setting them on one of the nearby lounge chairs, along with the hated FBI-issue smart phone from his pocket.

“Undress,” he told Cam, whose gaze had focused on Cort’s discarded belongings, as though he wasn’t sure where to look.

Cam blinked at him, then looked around the empty space. “Undress. What, here?”

“Yeah, right here. Right now. You can leave the boxer-briefs if you want. I’ve been dying to see them anyway.” He winked.

Cam shook his head like he couldn’t believe this was happening, but fuck if he didn’t start stripping. He began unbuttoning his shirt, his eyes focused on Cort the entire time, and when the shirt sleeve slipped off his shoulder, revealing his skin-tight t-shirt and tanned, toned arms, Cort stopped breathing for a moment. Would Cam show him the same trust if he knew who Cort really was?

God, tonight would go down in history as the stupidest decision Cort had ever made, but he didn’t care. He’d never wanted anyone or anything the way he wanted Cam Seaver. So, they’d have tonight, maybe. Just a few hours, until sanity was restored and he remembered all the reasons why he shouldn’t like Cam as much as he did.

Then Cam took off his shirt, and once again, all rational thought fled Cort’s mind. Cam glowed in the golden light, all sleek, smooth skin and firm, barely-defined muscles.

The man was gorgeous.

The nicely cut suit jacket and ass-hugging pants had given the impression of lean strength inside the crowded ballroom, but it was nothing to the way Cam looked in the ambient light: lean, golden, and gorgeous. Cort’s mouth went dry. He quickly shucked his own shirt, socks, and pants, then crossed the short distance between them.

“Take them off,” he said, hooking a thumb in the waistband of Cam’s pants. His voice was thick with arousal, and he knew Cam heard it when he shuddered despite the warm air.

But Cam backed up a pace. “Tell me what’s happening here first.” Any effect from the Jameson had burned off long ago, and Cam was clearly back in control. For now.

Cort rolled his eyes and took a step forward. “We’re stripping down next to a pool. I figured it was pretty obvious, badass. We’re getting in the water.”

Cam looked from Cort, to the water, and back again. Then he licked his full lips. “What if I don’t want to?”

It gave Cort pause for thought. He had zero interest in forcing the guy into the water if he were genuinely afraid or didn’t know how to swim, but… “You said you were a lifeguard,” Cort remembered.

Cam raised one eyebrow. “Yes, I was. Swim team, too.”

Ah. So not fear, then, but a challenge. Cort’s pulse kicked up. “Then get in the pool, badass.”

“I suppose you could make me.” Cam licked his lips once again, a slow and deliberate stroke Cort could feel in his dick. “You’re taller than me. Stronger, too.”

“I could,” Cort agreed. He stepped close enough for their chests to almost touch, and Cam’s eyes flared with heat. This teasing - the war of words, and wills, and barely-there touches was torture of the particular variety Cort liked, and he loved that Cam seemed to like it too. “I could pick you up right now, push you against the wall, and make you do whatever I wanted. Whatever the hell I wanted, Cam, and I could make you like it.”

Cam’s breathing was erratic. “Then do it,” he demanded.

Cort pursed his lips. He was tempted, fuck, he was so damn tempted. But something told him if he won the easy way, it wouldn’t really be a win at all. So he shook his head slowly. “Not right now. Tonight, I want you to choose to do it. Do it because I asked you. Do it because I want you to, and because you want to please me.”

Cam closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, bringing his chest in line with Cort’s, then he opened his eyes and unzipped his pants, letting the expensive fabric pool on the concrete decking. His dick was already semi-hard and pushing at the red cotton of his underwear. Cort nearly groaned at the sight.

Cam’s eyes flew open. “So now what?” he asked.

The heat in Cam’s eyes was blinding, his jaw locked defiantly, but Cort had been trained to see beyond the obvious, and right now he could see the tension in the other man’s face, in the twitch of those lips he couldn’t wait to kiss.

Cam effortlessly conjured emotions in Cort - strange and awesome and totally unwelcome. Cort wanted to protect him and support him and—

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to go down this way. He wasn’t supposed to admire or respect Cam Seaver. He was the enemy, wasn’t he? Or at the very least, a tool to be used to help Damon? Cam wasn’t the only one outside of his comfort zone, and Cort wondered if he could handle it as well as Cam seemed to.

“What do you want?” Cort whispered.

Cam swallowed hard, like he was gathering courage, then leaned forward, pressing himself against Cort. “I… I want you to show me how you blow off steam. It’s why you brought me up here, right?”

Cort smiled. God, the man managed to surprise him at every turn. The feeling of Cam’s hot skin against his own was mind-blowing, and his body was absolutely primed to take Cam right here and now. But for some reason, his mind balked at the idea of Cam becoming just another in a line of hard, fast, nearly-anonymous fucks. He wanted to prove something to Cam, and maybe to himself, and to do it, he needed to regain just a little of his control.

So, even though his body was screaming for him to bend his head just slightly, to cup his hand around Cam’s hard jaw, he didn’t. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Cam’s waist and lifted him, ignoring the man’s shocked gasp, then carried him the few steps to the edge of the pool.

“Remember you asked for it, badass,” he told Cam, and then he jumped, sending them both crashing into the warm, clear water.

Cort kept his hands wrapped around Cam until they hit bottom, then released him as they both bobbed to the surface a few feet apart and sucked in air.

“You. Asshole!” Cam sputtered, pissed off and gorgeous. Water droplets clung to his cheeks and spiked his hair, making him look like a startled kitten. Cort laughed harder than he had in months.

A large splash of water caught him full in the face, choking him. “Oh, badass is taking his revenge!” he gasped, still laughing as another burst of water hit him. “Better watch out.”

Cort coiled his muscles and lunged at Cam, ducking them both under. Cam came up coughing and spewing curses, and Cort braced himself for a frontal attack. But a second later, Cam had dived back under, catching Cort by the ankles and dragging him down.

The sneaky bastard.

They played like that for God-only-knew how long, neither of them willing to yield. They were more alike than Cort had anticipated.

When they’d both swum apart for a second to catch their breath, Cort remembered why he’d brought Cam up here in the first place. “You wanna see something cool?” he asked.

Cam raised one eyebrow. “Is this the part where you pull off your underwear?”

Cort laughed again - God, when was the last time he’d laughed so much? “Dude, when I pull them off, you’ll be saying something a lot better than cool.”

Cam snorted.

“It’s another piece of random trivia for you to add to your stash. Watch,” Cort said. Then he dived under the water and screamed, sending all the air in his lungs rushing to the surface in a cloud of bubbles.

When he resurfaced, Cam was watching him with a pitying expression. “You blew bubbles? Wow.”

Cort grinned. “Come down with me this time.”

When he dived the second time, so did Cam, watching him in the glow of the pool lights. Once again, Cort screamed, but this time he could see understanding dawn on Cam’s face. They both surfaced again.

“You were screaming down there?” Cam said breathlessly. “It looked like you were, but I could barely hear it.”

Cort nodded, wiping water from his eyes. “Water doesn’t conduct sound the same way as air, so the sound doesn’t travel above the surface.”

“Oh my God. You’re a science nerd?” He sounded shocked and more than a little impressed. Cort rolled his eyes.

“Sorry to disappoint you, badass, but that and baking soda volcanoes are about the extent of my scientific knowledge. This is typical kids’ stuff. There was a pond down the street, and my brother and I—” Cort paused and looked away for a second. “My brother and I would sneak down there sometimes to hang out with the other kids. He was a physics geek.”

“You have a brother, too?”

Cort nodded, easily treading water.

“Older or younger?”

Cort hesitated. He never spoke about Damon - not to his partner, not to his coworkers, not to anyone - and it seemed especially wrong to speak of him here and now. But it also seemed wrong to lie, or to use one of his million strategies for deflection, so he answered honestly.

“Seven years older.”

Cam nodded, gliding a few feet away. “And you guys were close? What about your parents?”

Cort could tell Cam was thinking about his own parents and the dickwad of a brother he seemed pretty fond of, but Cam and Cort weren’t ever going to have any kumbaya moments where they both reminisced about their awesome childhoods. “My parents are not something I discuss.”

“Ah. Got it.” Cam didn’t seem disappointed or rejected or whatever, but somehow Cort felt like an asshole anyway. He just didn’t share this shit - his shit - with anyone except Damon, because Damon had lived it too.

Cam watched him silently for half a second, then swam closer. His pale blue eyes glowed with spooky intensity in the pool lights, and it almost seemed as if he could read Cort’s thoughts. Then he smiled, and held out a hand. Cort reached out and grabbed it, and together they let the water claim them, sinking down to the bottom and screaming their heads off where nobody but the two of them could hear.

A few minutes later, they were floating on their backs, close but not touching, staring up at the stars - or the place where stars would have been on a less cloudy night. Cort had no idea what time it was other than late, and he was exhausted. Learning about Damon, dealing with Porter and Sean, everything had propelled him here tonight. But after the whiskey and the screaming, after learning way more about Cam than was good for him to know, his anger had evaporated, and he had completely lost sight of the plan that had brought him here. His mind was floating the same way his body did.

His hand bumped Cam’s in the water, and without giving it a thought, he tugged until they were floating together, side-by-side. He shifted his head slightly and saw that Cam, too, looked more peaceful than he’d been all evening. Cam turned his head just a little and gave Cort a look both fond and affectionate - as if they’d known each other for a million years instead of only a single night, and Cam trusted him implicitly. A single thought swam into Cort’s brain and took up residence.

I want to be worthy of that trust.

He instinctively backed away from the thought as soon as it formed in his mind.

It was wrong and stupid. He was loyal to Damon first, which meant he couldn’t be loyal to Cam. This night had been a messed up, wonderful lie, but it would end the second Cam knew who he really was. He glanced back up at the sky, and felt the first few drops of cold rain hit his face. Their warm, drifting time was over.

He brought his feet down to touch bottom and turned, sheets of water sluicing down his chest with a loud splash. “Cam, I think—” he began, with every intention of calling a halt to this madness before he risked more than he was willing to lose.

But Cam surprised him once again. He stood up too, light and shadow playing across his face and the sleek expanse of his chest, and lifted strong arms to wrap around Cort’s neck.

“It’s crazy. It’s stupid. This connection can’t be real,” he whispered, his voice mirroring Cort’s own thoughts. “But for tonight, can we please do things the easy way and not think?”

He pressed his lips to Cort’s collarbone, and the heat of his mouth made Cort shiver. Then he pulled back, his eyes finding Cort’s like he was waiting for approval or maybe… Jesus. Permission.

Cort wrapped his arms around Cam’s waist, locking them together in the waist-deep water. Cam’s breath caught, and lust pooled in Cort’s belly. He let his doubts and misgivings float off into the gently lapping water as he stared at Cam’s mouth, slowly lowered his head, and decided for one night perhaps they both deserved the easy way.

His lips pressed against Cam’s, and then Cam’s parted, his tongue tangling with Cort’s like maybe he thought Cort needed convincing. Cort sucked on his tongue firmly, making Cam moan, and then he was licking inside Cam’s mouth tasting the smoky spice of the Jameson, and something even sweeter and more potent which was Cam’s alone. Cam’s hands came up to grab at Cort’s hair, locking them together, but then just as suddenly, he yielded, his lips becoming pliant under Cort’s. The sensation was so heady that Cort broke away slightly, pulling his lips an inch away from Cam’s to stare down at him. Both were panting, Cort was painfully hard, and he wondered if the easy way just might kill him.