by Peyton Bogue
He glances at his phone as he walks, and he sees that he has a missed call from Rhys from the same time he and Grayson had pulled up to the Aldridge cabin along with two text messages, both of them sent within an hour each other.
Rhys Becker: Hey, are you busy right now?
Rhys Becker: Can you call me when you get a chance?
The messages don’t seem to be alarming and don’t alert Sage that something might be wrong with Rhys, but he dials Rhys as he walks anyway, stepping outside and moving out of the way of the oncoming pedestrians on the sidewalk as he leans up against the side of the building to wait for Rhys to answer his call.
“Hey, baby,” Rhys answers over the phone a moment later, and the sound of his voice makes Sage grin.
“Hey, Ree,” Sage replies. “You okay? Kai said you called earlier.”
Sage can hear rustling down the line, and it takes a few seconds before the sound of a door slams and Rhys replies, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to call and tell you that I was going to be home a little later for dinner than I thought I would be.”
Sage’s heart sinks a little. “Oh,” he says, before he shakes his head quickly. “That’s okay. You’re still probably going to get home before me.”
“I know, but I still wanted to let you know, just in case. I just got this old Harley in, and it’s going to take me most of the rest of today and tomorrow to fix it. I’ll be home an hour later than I normally would be, but dinner might not be completely ready yet when you get in tonight.”
Sage smiles. “That’s fine. I don’t care to wait. I’ll even help you if you’ll let me.”
“Maybe,” Rhys teases, and Sage’s insides fill with warmth at the affection in his voice. “I know you’re busy, and I didn’t want to bother you, but I texted you at first and then I called just a little while ago, and you didn’t answer. I know you’re busy, Detective,” Rhys repeats, and Sage knows he’s grinning wolfishly, “but it’s not like you to not answer your phone, and I got a little worried. So, I made the mistake of calling Kai to ask where you were. You guys are normally attached at the hip, so I figured you’d be with him. I couldn’t get him off the phone for nearly ten minutes after I’d called him, though.”
“That sounds like Kai,” Sage chuckles, shaking his head fondly at Kai's antics.
“He went on and on about how long it’s been since we all came together and had a ‘family dinner’ even though we literally got together last weekend,” Rhys says exasperatedly.
Sage chuckles. “Kai loves you, Rhys. And you love him. You both act like siblings with the way you fight and bicker all the time.”
Rhys murmurs and scoffs, but Sage can tell that he’s still smiling. “If Kai says one more offensive werewolf joke to me, I’m going to strangle him with my claws.”
“Rhys!” Sage scolds, but there’s no real heat behind it. Rhys still shouldn’t be saying anything about his wolfy proclivities so carelessly like that over the phone, though. “We’re going over to his place tomorrow night, so you better prepare yourself.”
Rhys sighs deeply, as if he’s dreading just the thought of the encounter, but Sage knows he’s not put-on. Privately, Sage knows that Rhys loves it when they all get together. As reclusive as he is, Rhys is always happy to spend time with Kai whenever Kai asks, and Sage knows that Rhys enjoys all of the times the three of them spend together. Sage and Rhys spend almost all of their free time together, but Kai’s smiling face and chaotic personality is always around, and both Rhys and Sage are always happy to have him there, even though Rhys will never admit to it.
Rhys sobers quickly as Sage chuckles at him, asking more seriously, “Am I taking you away from your important detective work?”
“Only a little,” Sage responds, but he doesn’t mean it. He can take a few minutes to talk to Rhys. The case, and all of the missing evidence they need to solve it, will still be there when he gets back.
“I’m sorry,” Rhys replies, sounding actually authentic in his apology. He doesn’t like to distract Sage while Sage is working.
“Don’t worry about it, Ree.” Sage glances back towards the doors of the precinct and sighs. “I guess I should be getting back, though. I’m still trying to get out of here early.”
“Okay. I’ll see you tonight, baby. Stay safe, sweetheart,” Rhys says, and Sage’s heart melts. Rhys echoes different variations of the same thing whenever Sage leaves for work in the morning, or on rare occasions when they get to hold a conversation during the day, and they all mean the same thing: Be safe and come back to me in one piece.
Sage smiles again, and he knows he probably has a big, goofy grin on his face, but he doesn’t care. “I will, Rhys. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I’ll see you in a few hours,” Rhys says, and then hangs up a second later with a click.
When Sage walks back inside, pocketing his phone with a private smile and a perk in his steps, he rounds the corner and sees Richards trying and failing to look authoritative as he places a manilla file on the top of Kai’s desk.
Grayson smiles at Sage politely when Sage sits back down, and Sage mutters a quiet thank you and turns to Kai, who raises both of his eyebrows in silent question. Sage gives him a thumbs up, signaling that everything is alright and that Rhys is fine. Kai nods acceptingly and turns his attention to the file on his desk, looking down at it gleefully.
“Here’s your file, Detective,” Richards says, motioning to the file. Kai pulls his extra desk chair out for him and pats the cushioned part of the seat roughly. Richards sighs and sits down.
“The un-redacted version, yay!” Kai replies, opening it. “Thanks, man. This is so much easier to read.” Sage rolls his eyes, but Kai just smirks and looks at Richards questioningly. "Why don’t you walk us through this?”
Richards leans against the desk with his forearms, nodding towards the file. “Four weeks ago, in Tehran, a classified mission operative was killed trying to stop a raid on U.S. military supplies."
“With that same gun, the EL-J46?” Sage asks, tapping the picture of the German gun in the Aldridge file.
“According to the ballistics report, yes,” Grayson fills in, nodding. He leans forward to get a better look at the file in Kai’s hand.
“So, when our ballistics guy ran the bullets we found through the military database, it raised a red flag on your end, right?” Kai asks, his joking mannerisms from a moment ago completely gone as he looks at the two agents with a frown. "That’s why you guys are here?”
“To be frank, it’s the only flag we’ve had,” Richards admits, rubbing his hands over his dress pants nervously. He looks a little less tense, but his shoulders are still hunched together uncomfortably. "We never recovered any supplies in Tehran or found the shooter.”
“Who did the work up on this for you?” Sage asks, crossing his arms.
From his experience, trying to attempt forensic work in the middle of a war zone is shoddy at best. He’s even a little surprised that they even have a ballistics report from Tehran that actually holds vital information. Normally, the impending fallout from a crime committed during wartime is overlooked when the enemy begins firing on the ones who are trying to solve it.
“Are you detectives familiar with battlefield forensics?” Richards asks, pulling out his tablet. He taps on it a few times, then turns it around to show Sage, Kai, and Grayson pictures of a decrepit warehouse building. There’s Tehrani writing on the walls, and two armed soldiers are carrying away a third soldier on a gurney. The lifelessness in both of the living soldiers’ eyes tells Sage that it wasn’t anywhere near an honorable death for their fallen comrade.
“That’s like processing a scene but ten times faster, right?” Sage asks, sharing a quick glance with Kai. They’ve both definitely seen their fair share of crime scenes, stateside and overseas. “Except people are dropping bombs on you and shooting at you while you’re trying to solve the case.”
“Exactly,” Grayson says, nodding. “The scene in Tehran was pr
ocessed by operatives working for Sirin Logistics,” he continues, and Richards taps on his tablet again to show them more crime scene pictures.
“Sirin Logistics?” Kai asks, flipping through the file in his hands.
“They’re a U.S. military contractor,” Richards supplies, showing Kai a picture of the field operatives. One of the operatives is placing evidence markers on blood stained concrete while the other looks on.
“They handle most of the law enforcement in our overseas operations,” Grayson says.
“As well as police training, supplies, transportation, artillery, food service—I mean, you name it and this company contracts it out for our troops,” Richards adds, providing hand motions and vigorous movements of his head to indicate the complexity of the agency. Sage watches him, contemplating.
“Sirin, huh?” he mutters, scoffing. “As in The Sirin Cooperation? The one run by Aleksander Kharkovy?”
Richards nods, but Kai balks.
“Aleksander Kharkovy? The wealthiest man in New York City, I-shit-gold-and-eat-puppies-for-breakfast-and-have-all-my-fingers-in-the-right-assholes Aleksander Kharkovy?”
“I didn’t realize he was that important,” Grayson replies, shrugging.
“And you guys think that those people at Sirin are the ones who stole your missing supplies?” Kai asks, eyeing both agents quizzically.
“I didn’t say that, technically—” Richards starts, but Sage cuts him off, sharp but firm.
“No, but you didn’t have to, though. I mean, if that gun was taken by an insurgent, it wouldn’t have ended up in New York City.”
“But it did. You guys must be thinking that it’s an inside job, right?” Kai finishes for him, tapping his knuckles twice on the desk before looking at Sage with a grin. He stretches a hand out to fist bump him, and Sage meets him with a roll of his eyes.
“There’s no evidence to support that at this time,” Grayson says calmly, but Sage knows the truth. The evidence is right in front of them, after all.
“Forget about evidence,” Sage says, waving a hand. Evidence isn’t going to help them right now, but it’ll be useful in wrapping up this case later. What they need right now is a witness.
Richards looks down at his hands, clearly disagreeing with Grayson. Sage watches him for a moment, noticing how he’s got a pinched look on his face and a downtrodden pull of his mouth. Richards's body language is screaming that he wants to interject, to say something, but Grayson could be right. There really is no evidence to support their theory.
"What’s your gut telling you, kid?” Kai asks, and Richards’s eyes snap up to his. It hits Sage, then, how this hard and surly FBI agent who is trying way too hard to prove himself really is just a kid, desperate to uncover the truth, and in dire need of help to do so.
“It tells me that someone at Sirin could be behind all of this, maybe even that Kharkovy guy,” Richards says, then sighs and rubs the back of his neck in frustration, “but I can’t accuse one of the FBI’s law enforcement partners of theft without having any evidence to back up that accusation, Detectives.”
“No, you can’t,” Kai agrees, nodding.
“But we can at least talk to them, right?” Sage adds, prodding.
“I mean, there was a crime committed in Tehran that has directly implicated a United States agency, Agents—we’d all just be doing our due diligence, don’t you think?” Kai asks, smirking as he glances at Sage in amusement.
Grayson and Richards share a look, and Kai grins.
◆◆◆
It’s nearing seven o'clock when Sage gets home that night. He’s in a good mood, happy that he’s made it home this early. It’s normally pushing nine or nine-thirty when he’s finally allowed to call it a night, and he gets home even later if he and Kai are in the thick of a case, or if he’s got to drop Kai off at his place like Sage is prone to do some nights.
He can hear Rhys cooking up their dinner in the kitchen as he enters, so he heads through their living room and pushes open the door.
The first thing Sage smells is garlic, and something is boiling on the stovetop next to Rhys. Rhys turns around when Sage walks in, smiling widely. He looks soft and cozy, sporting a pair of old worn sweatpants, and Sage can tell his hair is still damp from just getting out of the shower.
He’s also shirtless, and his skin glistens in the low light of the kitchen, reflecting small slivers of his pale skin when he moves in the moonlight.
Sage’s throat tightens as Rhys's beauty hits him like a blow right to his chest.
“Hey,” Rhys greets him, moving to the oven as it beeps and bends down to pull out a baking sheet full of garlic bread. “How was work?”
Sage blinks, shaking himself out of his trance as he walks around the island. He lets Rhys set the baking sheet down on a warming pad, then moves forward and kisses him.
“Hey,” he says when he pulls away, suddenly feeling a little breathless. “It was good.” He nuzzles his forehead against Rhys’s shoulder, letting Rhys pull him into the warmth of his chest. “I missed you, though. Those last two hours today passed by so slowly.”
Rhys chuckles, kissing the top of Sage's head and inhaling, before he frowns. “You smell even more tired than you did last night.”
Sage nods, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Rhys’s chest further, reveling in the feverish warmth of Rhys's body. “I am tired. This case is just. . .complicated.”
Rhys hums disapprovingly, bringing up his hand to rest on the back of Sage’s neck, scenting him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sage exhales slowly. “There’s not a lot to talk about.” He shrugs. “And I can only tell you so much. The FBI’s working on it with us, though.”
“The FBI?” Rhys asks, thoughtful. “Must be an important case.”
Sage’s mind flashes back to Grayson, and a slight sliver of panic coils in his abdomen before he takes a calming breath and works to calm himself down. He clears his throat, nodding. “It’s got the workings of being an inside job. We’re just trying to solve it as quickly as possible.”
Rhys nods, kissing Sage’s forehead again, before moving away to stir the contents of the boiling pot. Sage looks over, peeking inside, and sees it’s full of spaghetti noodles.
It’s quiet for a moment, and Sage leans against the counter to watch Rhys cook for a few minutes. Rhys adds uncooked ground beef to an oiled pan and sets it on the adjacent stovetop next to the boiling pot, before turning around and adding tomato sauce once it starts cooking properly.
“How was your day?” Sage asks him, moving to rub the soft skin between Rhys’s shoulder blades.
“Busy,” Rhys responds, shrugging. “I felt like I was away from you forever today. It was kind of making my wolf anxious.”
“Really?” Sage asks, running a knuckle down Rhys’s spine. Rhys shifts, shivering. “I kind of felt like that, too, but it was more like I was just really impatient to see you. It started right after you called me.”
“I didn’t mean to distract you when you were already really busy,” Rhys says, leaning back into Sage's hands as he continues to stir the meat around the pan. Sage runs his hands slowly down Rhys’s sides, resting them just above the waistband of the sweatpants he’s wearing, rubbing his thumbs into the jut of his hip bones, and Rhys relaxes against him, grinning.
“I’m never too busy for you,” Sage replies, leaning forward to run his lips over the feverish skin of the back of Rhys’s neck. It makes Rhys’s breathing hitch, and he lets out a small, content sound deep in his throat.
“You keep doing that and I’ll burn our dinner,” he says, and Sage smiles against his skin, placing kisses down the middle of his shoulder blades. His hands continue to rub tenderly over Rhys’s lower torso, massaging at the base of his spine.
Rhys exhales slowly, his voice dropping in octave. “You’re distracting me, Sage.”
Sage just kisses up the center of the back of Rhys’s neck, making a sound of disagreement. He works his way around Rhys’s neck
, before sucking just below his right ear, biting down gently.
Rhys’s breath catches in his throat, and he groans lowly. “Sage. You know I can’t think when you do that.”
Sage hums his agreement, kissing to the other side of Rhys’s neck, and bites down tenderly on his pulse point.
Rhys makes another noise in his throat, shifting his hips slightly. He shakes his head as he stirs the meat around the pan and says quietly, “Are you trying to make me ruin our dinner? Because if you keep doing that, I’m going to burn this meat, and you’re going to get mad at me when all you get to eat for dinner tonight is soggy spaghetti noodles and cold bread.”
Sage huffs a laugh behind him, running his lips over the shell of Rhys’s ear. “So, my attempts at seduction aren’t working, then?”
Rhys’s breath stutters in his chest, and his hips keen forward as he leans further against Sage. “No, they’re definitely working,” he says, his voice slightly strained. Sage grins, pressing a kiss to the warm skin underneath Rhys’s ear. “But you’re exhausted, baby. I know how tired you are. I’m almost done with this, and then we can eat and go to bed. You’ve got to catch up on some sleeping, sweetheart.”
Sage purses his lips, pretending to think for a moment. After a few seconds he asks seriously, “Will you cuddle with me until I pass out from exhaustion?”
Rhys turns his head around to look at Sage and gives him a wide grin before he chuckles, nodding. “Yes.”
“And will you rub my back?”
Rhys’s grin widens as his eyes glint affectionately. “Of course,” he says, mock serious as he nods again.
“Okay, then,” Sage agrees, giving a decisive nod. “I’m willing to compromise.”
Rhys chuckles, dropping the wooden spoon he was using to stir the meat and turns around in Sage’s arms, running his fingertips over Sage’s sides. “Sounds like a deal,” he says, tilting his head down so he can press their lips together. The kiss is soft and unhurried, and every part of Sage completely relaxes as he melts against Rhys’s chest.