The door to Dev's apartment clicked shut behind them with a soft thud. The night had mellowed into a quiet hum, the dim lights casting soft shadows across the walls as Kiaan kicked off his shoes and threw his hoodie on the nearby chair. Dev stumbled in, his shirt half untucked and eyes heavy with sleep—and satisfaction.
He slumped onto the couch with a groan, ruffling his hair as he looked over at Kiaan who was still unusually quiet, sipping water as he leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Hey," Dev muttered, his voice thick with drowsiness and leftover alcohol, "who was that guy you were talking to at the pub, huh? Looked kinda intense."
Kiaan looked up with a short laugh, his hand still holding the glass. "Which guy?"
Dev blinked slowly. "That guy at the bar. Tall. Sharp eyes. Black suit. The one who came to talk to you."
"Oh," Kiaan said, trying to play casual, but something flickered in his eyes. "No clue. Just some random bloke trying to start a conversation. Probably drunker than you."
Dev chuckled and flopped back dramatically. "Right. That man didn't look random, bro. He looked like he could kill someone with his jawline."
Kiaan snorted. "What, jealous he didn't flirt with you instead?"
Dev grinned with his eyes closed. "Please. He wouldn't survive five minutes with me."
"You didn't survive five minutes with that girl," Kiaan said wickedly, walking over and tossing a pillow straight at Dev's face.
The pillow hit with a satisfying thump, and Dev let out a groan. "Oye! Don't blame me for living my best life. It's called having fun."
Kiaan smirked, arms crossed. "Yeah yeah… sleeping with random girls and acting like a Casanova the next morning. As if that's the peak of fun."
Dev opened one eye and tossed the pillow back. "It is fun. Try it sometime, Mr. Tragic Eyes. You might smile a little."
Kiaan raised an eyebrow. "Fun doesn't always mean sticking your—"
"Say it," Dev cut in, laughing. "Go ahead, you innocent little devil."
Kiaan sighed, plopping down next to him on the couch. "Fun doesn't have to involve fucking someone, okay? There are other things too… like dancing, food, movies, adrenaline, good music… peace."
Dev stared at him for a moment before snorting. "Peace? Bro, you've been in three shootouts this week. You work undercover for a living. You think peace is even real for us?"
Kiaan smiled faintly, looking away. "Maybe not. But I like to imagine it is."
There was a brief silence between them—comfortable, brotherly. The kind that comes when two people know each other too damn well.
Dev's voice came softer this time. "Still think you should try a one-night stand."
Kiaan laughed, leaning his head back. "Still think you should try emotional stability."
Dev laughed harder this time, tossing another pillow at him. "Touché."
The apartment filled with their quiet laughter, the hum of city life outside barely reaching them. For a moment, the weight of raids, blood, secrets, and threats faded, replaced by warm lights, dumb jokes, and two agents just being boys again—before the storm returned.
And neither of them knew…
Rex already had Kiaan's face etched into his mind.
And the game had just begun.