The Only Logic I Follow

Shared Quarters

The new mission was a tight, high-risk surveillance operation targeting Marcus Vane’s last known associates. Fourth had designed the protocol, requiring him and Gemini to run point from a remote, minimalist FBI safe house for 48 hours of forced proximity. The house was small, sparsely furnished, and scented heavily with stale air and electronic equipment—a perfect, silent pressure cooker.

​They arrived exhausted, their briefcases slamming onto the small kitchen table. The silence between them was thick, heavy with the memory of the supply closet kiss and the recent reversal of their professional hierarchy. Fourth was in command of the mission; Gemini was his operational executor.

​Gemini surveyed the space with a familiar, dark intensity. "The layout is restrictive. There's only one viable workstation and one bed."

​Fourth, already setting up his specialized equipment, offered his trademark sassy nonchalance. "I'll take the bed. You're more comfortable on a hard surface, Agent Gemini. It matches your personality."

​"I am not interested in your commentary, Agent Fourth," Gemini growled, though the heat of the insult was overshadowed by the rush of adrenaline he felt just being in the room alone with him. "We maintain professionalism. We take staggered shifts, and we sleep on opposite ends of the apartment."

​The Unbearable Proximity

​For the first twelve hours, they worked with chilling efficiency. Fourth monitored the surveillance feeds, his quick-witted analysis guiding Gemini's field checks. They communicated in clipped, professional tones, avoiding eye contact and any physical contact, even brushing arms.

​But the safe house was too small. The constant scent of stale coffee and expensive cologne (Gemini) mixed with the sharp, clean scent of Fourth's presence, creating an intoxicating, suffocating atmosphere. The pressure of the case—and the memory of that desperate first kiss—built into an inescapable, physical ache.

​Around midnight, Fourth stretched, sighing deeply. "I need coffee, and then I need a shower. I can't think in this dust."

​"You have a surveillance rotation in twenty minutes," Gemini countered, his voice rougher than he intended.

​"Then you take it," Fourth replied, turning, his dark eyes challenging the agent’s control. "I've been staring at code for ten hours. You stare at a screen for a bit, Agent Gemini. You might learn something new about patience."

​Fourth walked toward the small bathroom, leaving a wake of disruption. Gemini watched him go, the image of the hacker's silhouette moving through the shadows, and the rigid walls of his discipline finally collapsed. He wasn't afraid of the chaos anymore; he was addicted to it.

​The Release of Hostility

​Gemini pushed off the console, moving with a predatory speed that had nothing to do with field tactics. He caught Fourth just as he reached the bathroom door, slamming the hacker against the cool wood paneling.

​"You are infuriating," Gemini snarled, his voice a low, guttural confession of surrender. "You spend all your energy pushing me away, and I am done fighting you."

​Fourth gasped, the surprise momentary, quickly replaced by the fierce heat of acceptance. He reached up, his hands shooting to Gemini's shoulders, pulling the agent closer. "Then stop fighting, Broody Agent! I'm tired of waiting for your courage!"

​Gemini’s lips crashed down onto Fourth’s, a desperate, consuming kiss that was fueled by months of dislike turning into profound desire. The kiss was aggressive, demanding, and entirely mutual—a pure, physical release of the volatile rivalry that had defined their partnership. Fourth returned the force with equal, uninhibited hunger, his intelligence momentarily abandoned for the raw, undeniable connection.

​Gemini tore his mouth away, scattering kisses down Fourth's neck, breathing in the scent of his skin and the overwhelming confirmation that this man, this chaos, was entirely worth risking his career for.

​"I hate your smart mouth," Gemini choked out, his voice thick with raw need.

​"I love your brute force," Fourth whispered back, tugging at the lapels of Gemini's suit jacket.

​The tension that had built over weeks of forced proximity was unleashed in a torrent of intense, consuming intimacy. They didn't move far from the door; the small space felt like a necessary cage for their volatile connection. The intimacy was fueled by the high stakes of their profession—a profound, non-verbal acknowledgment that they might not survive the next 48 hours, so this moment had to be absolute.

​Gemini was dominant, demanding, and possessive, driven by the need to claim the brilliant mind that had bested him. Fourth, however, gave himself over completely, shedding his sassy armor and responding with an intensity that surprised even the dark and broody agent. The physical release was explosive, shattering the last wall of their professional roles.

​Later, they lay tangled in the center of the restricted safe house bed, sharing the small space and the heavy, profound silence. The only sounds were their synchronized breathing and the soft hum of the surveillance equipment in the next room.

​Gemini held Fourth tightly, his face buried in the softer curve of Fourth’s shoulder. "I'll clean your console before the next rotation," he murmured, the domestic promise sounding ridiculously out of place, yet deeply sincere.

​"You better," Fourth replied, already drifting toward sleep, his hand tracing the intense lines of Gemini's powerful arm. "But don't you dare mention that kiss in the morning."

​Gemini smiled, the raw sincerity in his expression visible only to the silent cameras. He tightened his hold on the hacker. They had broken the rules, risked their jobs, and crossed the line, but for the first time in months, Gem felt a terrifying, complete sense of peace.