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The first time Zee meets Saint, it’s during a fancy party at Rome.
Zee’s only been briefed very quickly about his mission today before Max drops him off here and goes somewhere else per the order of their boss, and he thinks he heard a name—is it Zen? Sehn?—as the only key to this mission. Which means Zee has to find this person, and that person can be anyone inside this huge ball room.
Zee hates parties, has never been fond of one ever since he had to drag Park’s annoying drunk ass off the table after he attempted to fucking strip in front of everyone in their college days. He’s never gone to one unless it’s for work (there should be a rule to forbid secret agents to gain useful information from this kind of event, help him God) and even if he has to go, he’s never alone. Until today. Fuck you, Max, you’ll never see yourself calling me a friend anymore , Zee curses under his breath.
“Do you like what you see?” Tommy asks from his earpiece, voice light and cheerful. Tommy is a young quartermaster recently assigned to Zee’s team, he’s done his job brilliantly for someone his age and is a chill guy to hang out with. Most of the field agents in Zee’s team are his senior in age, but he’s never looked awkward. “It’s Rome, Agent Fighter. Show us a little more enthusiasm, will you?”
“Oh. I will be, gladly, on top of that, if you sent me somewhere nicer and not a party,” Zee sighs and loosens the tie around his neck. “You knew I didn’t like parties. The air around here is suffocating.”
Tommy laughs. “Bear it a little longer, Agent. Tutor holds a very important piece of information and he only agrees to meet you here. He is a man of taste, and I trust his judgement. He’s one of our best people on the field, but not the one you meet often. Oh, I believe this would be your first meeting with him, am I correct?”
“You are,” answers Zee. “Wait, his name is Tutor? I thought his name started with S or Z, something like Sehn or Zen, I’m not sure. Please never let Max brief for me again, he’s a horrible narrator and I can barely understand a thing he says.”
“Tutor is his code name, like Fighter for you. His real name is Saint, but he doesn’t take a fancy being called by that name unless he states otherwise. Please just use Tutor to communicate with each other, I’ve told him to refer to you by the name Fighter as well.” Tommy pauses for a second and continues, “I will take into consideration about Max not being your mission narrator next time. I’ll send someone else or do it myself.”
Always so calculating and considerate, Zee smiles. “Thanks,” he says, looking at his surroundings. “So, where should I meet this Tutor guy?”
“He should be around by now.”
“Out of curiosity and a prevention measure from calling out the wrong guy,” Zee asks, “how does he look?”
“Exactly your type,” Tommy answers with the same cheerful voice, making Zee frown. “Don’t worry, he’ll approach you first.”
[]
Tommy isn’t wrong—on the contrary, he’s very much right. This Tutor guy, or Saint—Zee likes the way that name rolls off his tongue; Saint—is exactly his type. Tall, fair skin, deep brown eyes, long lashes touching his pinkish cheeks softly when he blinks, plump red lips curving into the most beautiful smile he has ever seen.
“Agent Fighter,” he greets Zee professionally, offering long, slender fingers to Zee, who graciously accepts the offer. His skin is so smooth, damn . “I don’t want our conversation to sound weird and suspicious, is only Fighter fine by you?”
Zee has to swallow so embarrassingly loud to find his voice again. “Sure, Tutor. Um, it’s nice to meet you?”
Zee can hear Tommy snorting into his earpiece, he must be looking like an idiot from the wide screen inside his office. He doesn’t care. All he cares about is an angel in the form of a human, an agent, an informant for their team. Are they seriously letting someone this gorgeous to be working in this nasty, bloody field?
“You think I’m gorgeous?” Saint chuckles, and Zee just realizes he’s just thought out loud. So fucking embarrassing. “Thank you, I guess. You’re not bad yourself, appearance wise.”
Zee hears Tommy’s laughter rings in his ear and he wants nothing but to turn off his communication device. It’s unfair that Tommy has full access to what is currently happening and that means he’s munching popcorn happily while watching Zee humiliates himself in front of Saint from miles away.
Zee takes a deep breath, trying to pull himself together. “I believe we have a business and that’s why we’re meeting here.”
“We do, but where’s the fun if we go straight to the point? Aren’t we here to have fun?” Saint shrugs, running his slender fingers atop the railing and Zee follows his movement. He wonders if those fingers can fit his when he holds them together.
Zee shakes his head, this is unbelievable. He needs to get Saint out of his sight very soon before Zee starts losing his common sense. (Alternatively, they need to talk somewhere quieter so Zee can stare at him for as long as he wants to.)
“You look uncomfortable being here, do you perhaps not like parties?” Saint asks, tilting his head. His eyes are brown and deep, feels like Zee is staring into a forest and doesn’t really mind getting lost inside.
“Definitely not one of my favorite places to be in,” answers Zee. “How about you? You look like this is your second home.”
Saint smiles. There is… something about his smile. It’s not cunning or manipulative, but Zee knows it’s not a genuine friendly smile. It’s like Saint is testing him, like he’s pushing Zee away and pulling him in the range of his grasp, to see if Zee will stay or run away.
If Saint is going to play a game, Zee is more than happy to comply.
“I don’t personally like them, but I like the fact that we’re well hidden here, even in the spot with the loudest noise.” Saint gestures to the surroundings. “Don’t you think it’s the most perfect place to hold a meeting that no one was supposed to know what we’re going to talk about?”
“You’re right,” Zee doesn’t think to that extent before. “But I still prefer somewhere that does not make me bump into something or someone every two minutes.”
“You’re boring,” Saint clicks his tongue. Zee faintly hears Tommy agrees with him from his earpiece. “Well, then, Mr. I-Don’t-Like-Partying, can we have a drink before we seal the deal? They have the best cocktails here, it’s a waste to miss them. You’ve gone all the way to Rome, after all.”
Just a drink won’t hurt, Zee tells himself. And he’s in Rome , after all. So he agrees and lets Saint lead him to the bar, ordering two glasses of something Zee can’t even pronounce in fluent Italian. The language doesn’t sound foreign in Saint’s tongue, even the bartender seems pleasantly surprised when he takes his order.
The color of the drink is light blue, what a contrast to Saint’s fair skin and brown eyes when he brings the glass to his lip, sipping slowly. “The host of this party is the chairman of a giant construction company in South Korea,” Saint says, dropping his voice an octave lower. “Our investigation finds that he’s the missing link between the murder of young girls and boys since five years ago and a suspicious talent agency in Bangkok—we suspect them to be a human trafficking company in disguise. The girls and boys who were later found dead were the ones who tried to escape, and failed.”
Zee shifts closer to Saint, now the topic has piqued his interest. “What is this person’s role?”
“The one who provides them money,” answers Saint. “But in exchange, these young people are forced to entertain the chairman and his VIP friends with false promises about their bright future after they debut. What makes it difficult is that the agency we’re talking about is producing actual actor and actress, you might recognize some of the names under them. It won’t be easy to accuse them of something so controversial without solid proof.”
Zee blinks, “Wait, are you saying that they’re selling these girls while managing an actual business at the same time? Can anyone live a lower life than that?”
Saint flashes him a bitter smile. “That’s why this case is on us. Even police can’t help us because their higher-ups are probably involved in this, and we have to get to the bottom of this case to move so they don’t have time to escape or blame someone else.”
“The rule of money,” Zee nods. “So the information you’re giving me is related to this case?”
Saint nods. “I put everything I could find about the chairman during my two weeks of stay here, and you and your team should do the rest. Be careful, this mission is dangerous.”
“There is no mission that is not dangerous,” says Zee matter-of-factly and lifts a hand, palm facing up. “I will do my work, and you can rest. Or enjoy the party, whichever you prefer.”
Saint hums, “Too bad you’re so eager to leave. We might never see each other again after today, P’Fight .” He loops an arm around Zee’s neck and pulls him in so dangerously close, nose almost bumping into Zee’s cheek when he whispers, “Someone is watching us. Play along with me.”
And a second later Saint’s lips are on Zee’s, leaving close-mouthed little pecks that grows hotter as time passes, and Zee doesn’t really do any useful thinking when he grabs Saint by the waist, kissing back, licking and biting gently until Saint goes pliant—if Saint wants him to play along, Zee should at least show him he has the upper hand. Saint sneaks an arm behind Zee’s back and leaves feathery touches on the skin of his nape, and at the same time Zee feels like something is being attached to the inner side of his collar. Damn, only elite agents know such trick—Saint is definitely not an amateur and it makes him excited to find someone so young on his caliber.
Saint pulls away first, his cheeks rosy and lips red and slightly swollen. “Not bad for our first meeting,” he winks and smoothens the lapels of Zee’s suit coat with a smile. “You’re a good kisser, P’Fight. I think Zon had missed something to put under your CV, but I’m fine with being the only one who knows about that. You know where to find me after checking out my little gift.”
Saint walks away after that, merging into the crowd on the dance floor and never looks back. Zee closes his eyes and count to three, before bolting out of the room to go back to his hotel room.
He got hard over kissing a stranger.
Fuck.
[]
Tommy greets Zee with a wide, dimpled smile when the latter is back from his Rome trip, when the young quartermaster shows up at his flat at exactly six in the morning, only forty minutes after Zee’s landed back in Bangkok where his team is currently assigned at.
“Do you want me to put “good kisser” in your special ability in your CV? I can make it convincing enough and an internal source has given statement to prove its validity.” He says, not even bothering to say hello. Zee bets he’s been dying to ask him this question since that day, but he held back just to ask him face to face.
Zee shoots him a look. “Please stop it. I won’t get to see him again, anyway. That was good enough to put an end to something that isn’t going to happen twice.”
Tommy shrugs, “We don’t know about that. Tutor is a field agent like you, so you can still meet him somewhere.” He scrunches his nose when he sees Zee’s frown upon him. “You’re clearly infatuated, Agent Fighter. Hand me the USB and I’ll leave you to have some rest until technical meeting this evening.”
Zee sighs loudly and scratches his head. He can’t tell Tommy that Saint’s face and voice had been haunting his sleep every night, he’s not even sure if it’s a daydream or a nightmare, but it is a torture. Zee tries to win this stupid argument against himself by saying that he will never see him anymore, but then Tommy inserts some possibility and Zee gets his hopes up by perforce. But seriously, what kind of field agents falls in love?
“P’Zee? I’m waiting, and I don’t have much time for that.”
Right, back to the business, Zee mentally slaps himself on the head. He meets Saint for working purposes and Zee should never cross the line beyond that and humiliate his entire team; so, he pushes the thought about Saint to the back of his head.
“Zon, can I really stay home until the meeting? The jet lag is pretty bad.”
Tommy nods, slight concern flashed across his face. “Do you need anything? Food, meds?”
Zee shakes his head. “Nah, just need some more sleep. I’ll call Park if I need something urgent.”
“Fine. See you at the HQ this evening, agent. I will call you later to remind you about the meeting.”
Zee goes back to sleep after Tommy left and wakes up nearly seven hours later, head throbbing and stomach growling. He calls Park to eat lunch with him—while simultaneously asks him to bring him more food, because Zee is too lazy to do anything in his kitchen other than making himself a cup of coffee.
Park comes half an hour later, giving Zee a once-over before stepping inside the house.
“You look like shit,” he comments, handing Zee a medium plastic bag with various kinds of sushi inside—yum, his favorite. “Dude, have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You look horrible.”
“I still look better than you,” Zee clicks his tongue, unbothered. “Have you eaten yet?”
Park shakes his head. “I haven’t. Tommy asked me to get on standby in case you need something, because you didn’t look good this morning.” He frowns, “Honestly, you still don’t look any better now. Was Rome really that good?”
Zee sets the sushi down the table for two, trying to ignore Park’s voice but his hand movement stops mid-air when Park asks again, “Was the kiss really that good?”
Zee jerks his head so fast he almost breaks his neck. “How did you know about the kiss?”
“I was at the HQ, you doofus. At least ten people saw that live from Tommy’s widescreen, and by the next day it became the hottest topic to talk about in our office.”
Zee groans. Park walks upon and puts sushi inside Zee’s mouth to shut him up, and it actually works.
“I’m doomed,” Zee says after he swallows the food. “Tommy said the informant looked like my type and he was right—of course, he’s mostly right about everything—and when we talked he suddenly kissed me because he felt someone was watching us, and with that he put the USB inside my neck collar.”
“He’s a genius,” Park says thoughtfully. “And you, my friend, you’re horny as fuck. Although I must say the acting on your side was brilliant, I knew you were not completely pretending doing it. He did that to get rid of suspicion, you did that because you got a boner. You’re lucky he didn’t think of it as sexual harassment and kicked you in the gut.”
Zee shoots his friend a dirty look. “Stop putting it like that. I’m eating.”
Park shrugs, “How else do you want me to put it? I’m not a fucking lyricist.” He snatches a piece of sushi from Zee’s plate that he doesn’t have on his own plate, earning a glare from latter. “Boss wants you to come to the meeting this evening, at seven on the dot. Don’t be late.”
Zee’s heart tightens at the mention of his boss. “Does he know about the kiss?”
“He does. He’s one of the few people who saw it live with me.” Park gives his best friend a sympathetic look. “Good luck with that, dude. I hope you’ll not get your ass beaten; we still need you on the field.”
Zee groans over a mouthful of sushi, “Shit.”
(“You’re wrong about one thing. I did get a boner, but that was after he kissed me and not beforehand. It’s his fucking kiss that gave me that big of an impact.”
Park gives him another sympathetic look. “Then, congratulations. You’re officially doomed.”)
[]
Zee arrives at the HQ ten minutes before seven with Park, spending a good minute taking inventory around the building. Park stops walking when he spots someone and calls them out loudly, “Yo, Tutor!”
Zee diverts his eyes from the streetlights and they land on a familiar figure—he could never forget those brown eyes, fair skin, pink cheeks and plump lips, that curve on his lips when he smiles but not actually smiling; if that even makes sense. It’s Saint, the same Saint who made Zee turn into a complete mess after their first meeting in Rome, he’s right here in the flesh. He waves at Park and walks to their direction, eyes flickering when he notices who comes with Park. Zee kind of wants to hide somewhere, for a reason he can’t explain.
“Hey. You’re back from Rome already?” Park offers Saint a fist bump and the latter accepts with a nod.
“P’Japan,” he greets. “Yeah, Boss wants me to join the meeting. You can just call me Saint, though,” Saint looks over Park’s shoulder and smiles. “P’Fight, it’s a pleasure to see you again here.”
Saint offers him a handshake and somehow Zee feels like deja vu when he accepts the gesture. “The pleasure is mine,” Zee says after clearing his throat. “I believe this is my first time seeing you at the HQ, but you can’t be new in this business. Where have you been all this while?”
Saint laughs. “Here and there, around the world. I’m a field agent too, but my job is often way more secretive than yours, so I’m mostly working behind the shadow.”
Zee turns his head to Park, “Do we have agents like that?”
Park rolls his eyes at the embarrassing question. “We have several special agents and Saint is one of them. Their main duty is to stay low and put so they won’t be recognized by anyone, and to fool people like you.”
Zee shoots Park a dirty look and he was just about to retort when Saint’s phone rings. Two pairs of eyes land on the vibrating small metal square that Saint pulls out from his suit jacket pocket, and he gives each Zee and Park a funny look.
“Zon called. He must be annoyed because we haven’t entered the hall and we only have five minutes until seven.”
“Five minutes,” Zee nods, and then realization hits him like a truck. “The meeting hall is on the other side of this building, even five minutes won’t cover the range! Should we just go, James Bond-ish? Via the wall?”
“I’m not going to go James Bond-ish with you no matter what it means,” Park quickly disagrees. “I know you’re proud of your speed and flexibility, dude, me too , but we’re not doing that in our fucking headquarter and get recorded in all CCTVs with our career at stake if we got mistaken as thieves instead.”
“We still have to reach the meeting hall in three minutes,” Saint glances at his watch and grabs Zee’s wrist with his free hand, probably unconsciously, but his grip is too tight for someone who accidentally does that. “Follow me, I’ll show you a shortcut.”
[]
They manage to arrive at the meeting hall on time, breathing short and gasping for air from all the running. Saint did know a shortcut, but he didn’t say it was an easy way. They went through so many doors, jumped to the balcony, climbing up the wall—in the end, they had to do the James Bond-ish way Zee mentioned earlier, but not as extreme as he imagined it to be.
Tommy, well known for his code name Zon, crosses his arms in front of his chest with an unimpressed look when three guys burst through the room. The cold stare is soon replaced by a wide, dimpled smile as he happily checks his watch, saying, “You guys made it. I’m sure these two owe it to you, Tutor, because there’s no way they could find a way to get here in five minutes when they couldn’t even find the restroom by the end of the hall.”
“I’m fine with that, Zon. They’re capable agents, it’s not difficult to work with them.” Saint takes a seat across Tommy and Park makes a u-turn to take a seat beside the quartermaster. Zee is left with no other seat but next to Saint, so he sits down. He notices that Saint is staring at him, smiling, before turning his attention back to Tommy and Park.
“You should stop dragging me and Zee, Tom. You’re in our side, you’re supposed to put good words about us in front of Saint who doesn’t belong in our team. Didn’t you hear that? He said we’re capable agents.”
“I personally handle all your files and I know better than anyone else who is better than who, P’Park.”
“Wait, did you imply that I and Zee are no better than Saint is?!”
“I did not imply, I’m stating a fact.”
The heated dispute continues until their boss enters the room and they stopped talking immediately, getting up from their seats. Zee is lucky he’s quick to catch up, because ten seconds ago he was still stunned because Saint held his hand and the skin where he touched him was still warm. He didn’t even remember what did Park and Tommy said during their debate session, but it shouldn’t matter now, he guesses.
“Good evening, agents. Thank you for coming here.” Their boss, M—everyone knows his real name is Aof but it’s almost like a silent agreement between the agents to stick with their boss’ single consonant official nickname—nods to the agents and sits down. “Please take a seat,” he gestures to the agents and they all sit down in one brief, trained movement.
“The reason why I asked the four of you to gather here is because we have a mission we should carry out quietly, as usual. This is a difficult one, and that’s why I only asked for my best agents. You’ll form a team of six, two other agents are still on their way here, but they’re listening to this meeting as we speak.” M glances at the agents and continues, “The USB drive Agent Tutor gave us from Rome contains a very classified information about an illegal transaction and deal between two parties who are planning to execute Thailand’s Prime Minister with a plane crash. The details of this deal is still vague, and I need all of you to prevent it from happening. We aren’t even sure if the Prime Minister is the real target, but we have indication and we should not take a risk.”
“They plan to do- what?” Zee almost can’t believe his hearing. “It wasn’t about a human-trafficking organization disguised as an entertainment agency who had killed several boys and girls after they became trainees?”
“It is,” M answers. “It’s all related. The Prime Minister asked the police to conduct a secret investigation because he had a suspicion about the human trafficking and murder case but got caught on. Obviously, there’s a spy inside the government, but it’s too soon to pick a suspect. We don’t have enough proof to bring them down and that would be your task for this mission, agents.”
It’s indeed a difficult case and it should be NIA’s top priority if M himself is present to lead the meeting instead of sending his assistant. The agents exchange glances. It’d be a lie if mission briefing is not heart-throbbing for them because they’d be putting their lives on the line, and there’s always a possibility to not coming back alive.
Still, they’re pledged to serve this country to the last drop of their blood. With a slowly regaining confidence, they nod to confirm to M that they’re taking this mission starting from this second. M looks pleased and hands them the papers—everything they need to know about the mission.
“You’re working in pairs for this mission, I don’t want to lose my best agents in a single mission all together.” M turns to Zee, “Fighter and Tutor, Alpha One. You’ll be on the forefront to carry this mission, I give you permission to shoot and kill if it’s needed. Japan and his partner will be Alpha Two, Zon and his partner would be Alpha Three.”
It takes Zee three seconds to realize that he and Saint are paired for this mission. Saint accepts the decision without asking, and Zee holds himself from asking M to double check and ends up embarrassing himself again. Zee glances at Saint from the corner of his eyes, Saint is calmly reading the papers with his brows slightly frowned.
Zee wants this meeting to end oh-so-badly.
The meeting eventually ends dramatically, much of a surprise to Zee. When M called in two agents that would be Park and Tommy’s partners, Seng and Jimmy—code name Tanthai and Saifah—colors drained from Tommy’s face and he looked perturbed on his seat, until he couldn’t take it anymore and left the room like he had just seen a ghost. Luckily it’s about time for M to close the meeting, so Tommy didn’t miss out on anything. Zee isn’t quite sure if M notices the weird atmosphere, but even if he does, then he doesn’t say anything about it.
Park leaves him to look for Tommy with Seng and Jimmy, saying they don’t need their only quartermaster to have a mental breakdown in the middle of a mission, leaving Zee and Saint to be the last one inside the meeting hall. M had dismissed them and told them to gather again here in two days, before Zee and Saint fly back to Rome.
Zee wants to ask him a lot of things. When did you arrive here? How do you work, exactly, that a senior field agent like me only get to see you now? How do you sleep after kissing me that day, or do you do that kind of thing often when you’re delivering information to our agents?
“P’Fight.”
“Tutor.”
Saint giggles when they call each other’s name at the same time. “You go first. Also, please refer to me as Saint when we’re not doing mission. It’s more comfortable that way.”
“Okay, Saint.” Zee tries not to sound overly excited when he says the name for the first time. “You can call me Zee. Fighter is the name I use for work only.”
“Okay, P’Zee,” Saint nods, “what did you want to tell me?”
“I forgot,” Zee clears his throat. “You go first.”
Saint raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t press further. “Well. I must say I am disappointed that Boss and Zon were the ones who came to me after I gave you my little gift,” he begins. “I thought it would be you, speaking technically, because I gave it to you .”
“Ah,” Zee scratches the back of his neck, “Yes, sorry. I mean, it was technically Tommy’s job to get back to you after I handed him the information, I didn’t know you’d be expecting to see me.” Also because I was a mess and I kept thinking of you after that day in Rome , is what Zee doesn’t say.
Saint’s eyes soften and Zee almost physically melts into those deep brown eyes. “Excuse accepted. Now, anything you wanted to say to me?”
Why didn’t you mention anything about the fucking kiss? “What kind of handgun do you use?”
Saint blinks, seems like he doesn’t expect that question at all. Zee also didn’t expect he’d be asking such a thing, but there’s no way back now. “I’m best at close-range shooting, for now I use a customized Glock 26 but I’m thinking to change into something lighter, maybe a Beretta Nano.”
Zee finds himself a little relaxed now. To hell with the goddamn kiss, talking casually with Saint about guns is way more heartwarming. “Hmm, good choice. Beretta is good, but Glock is more powerful. Ever tried Walther PPK/S?”
Saint nods. “It’s beautiful, but too heavy for my liking. The automatic trigger doesn’t work as fast as my Glock, but I do have to admit it has beautiful design. Maybe I should try it when our mission isn’t so painfully live-staking.”
“Is there any mission like that?”
“There’s none so far.”
They laugh, awkwardness is nowhere to be seen. Talking with Saint doesn’t feel like he’s talking to a fellow agent, more like talking to an old friend he’s never met for a long time. He’s got manners and all, but he knows how to keep the conversation fun and alive. Zee can’t believe he works behind the shadow all this while when he can make a brilliant negotiator.
“I don’t really like talking with other people about business, that’s why I’m not a negotiator,” Saint chuckles, startling Zee. “P’Zee, you have the knack to always thinking out loud, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t happen very often until I met you,” Zee shrugs. “Anyway, I’m looking forward to working with you. I’m originally a sniper, but Boss wants me in hand-to-hand and gun combat so I’m getting used with them as well. I don’t really like handguns, though. They make me panic when I have to shoot while running or hiding.”
Saint laughs. “I’m looking forward to working with you as well. I’ve never worked with a sniper before, so I’m excited.” He glances at his phone and gives Zee an apologetic look. “Sorry but I need to go now, see you in two days?”
Zee hums and nods, “Yeah, see you in two days.”
[]
“So, you two didn’t talk about the kiss.”
Zee groans, waiting for Tommy to pour him a drink—it’s apple juice in a wine glass, because they’re nerd agents and neither of them drinks during a mission. Tommy, Zee, Park, and Max are gathering on Tommy’s flat after meeting. Tommy, albeit the way he looks, is quite a heavy drinker with a fascinating personal collection of beer glassware and numerous alcoholic drinks, but he single handedly decides that none of them are drinking tonight, so they go with cold apple juice instead.
“We didn’t. We talked about handguns instead, and that’s where he told me he’s good at close-range shooting.”
“You’re hopeless,” Park clicks his tongue.
“I will not talk about it until he brings up the topic himself,” Zee adamantly says. “What if he did that with his job in mind, not because he’s attracted to me whatsoever? We only met twice, and we’re agents on top of that, for fuck’s sake. What if I was the only one infatuated?”
Max touches the rim of Zee’s glass with his own. “Zee’s right. Let’s not jump to conclusions until we get a clearer view of Tutor’s motive. He’s not there to hook up with a guy when they first met, and there’s high possibility he doesn’t feel anything for Zee.”
Tommy almost chokes on his drink, “P’Max, you shouldn’t have put it like that. P’Zee’s confidence is crumbling now.”
“I think I’m in love and it’s such an ugly feeling,” says Zee, sipping on his drink.
“It is,” Tommy confirms, and Zee frowns at him. Max and Park mimic his stare and Tommy seems to realize what he has said. “Saifah was my boyfriend until the company announced him died two years ago and I had to see a therapist for nine months until I could stand on my own feet again,” he explains and sighs. “That’s what you got for falling in love with a fucking field agent.”
“Saifah… Jimmy? The person we just met today?” Park blinks. “Was that why you looked like you were constipated when he entered the room?”
Tommy glares at Park. “Well, how do you feel when you see your dead boyfriend looking fine as hell and alive after two fucking years, and suddenly you’re partnered for work on top of that? I feel like dying , P’Japan. Constipated is an understatement.”
Zee doesn’t follow the rest of the conversation; although it doesn’t look like a normal conversation at all with Park and Max trying to coax all the details about Tommy’s past relationship with Jimmy and Tommy reluctantly tells them about it. They don’t have no dating policy between agents, but they have to bear with all consequences and the danger of going out with someone whose future isn’t clear at all.
Zee thinks about Saint and curses under his breath. He’d never thought that one day he would be thinking about a romantic relationship with a fellow field agent, and to make it worse, they had only met twice. The fact that Zee is aware that he doesn’t know anything about Saint but he reacted so intensely at just the mention of his name is, matter-of-factly, the worst .
(“Falling in love in general is a pain in the ass, but if you think it’s the right thing to do, go for it. You’d never know what the future holds to both of you, so make the most of it while you can.”
“Damn, Tom. You can say something like that, too?”
Tommy shrugs. “It was love and it wasn’t gonna disappear overnight. There may be things you’d later regret, but it wouldn’t be as much as the regret if you didn’t tell them how you feel for them. That was for my case, and I was happy until the company decided to be a bitch and fool me, one of their best quartermasters, for two damn years.”
Zee’s eyes soften. “How much time do you think you need to fall in love?”
“Ten seconds,” answers Tommy. “It took me ten seconds to lay my eyes on Jimmy and decide that he was the man of my dreams—fortunately, he felt just the same. Love doesn’t go by logic or numbers, Agent Fighter. It’s purely raw and intuitive, and you're gonna love every second of it.”)
[]
Zee keeps replaying Tommy’s words inside his head on the flight to Rome with Saint beside him, the field agent is carefully reading whatever is displayed on his tablet screen. Zee is supposed to read the same material, it’s everything they need to know for the mission: their main target, their target’s henchmen, their main target’s objective and where they should ambush to avoid commotion. M even personally requests Zee to bring his rifle because it’s possible for them to be cornered because their target won in number, and snipers are their last string of hope when something bad happened on the scene. Barrett, his rifle, is stored safely inside a guitar box that Zee put on the overhead compartment, disguised as an acoustic guitar.
“P’Zee,” Saint calls, eyes looking up from his tablet to find Zee’s and he smiles at him. “Have you read the papers yet?”
Zee shakes his head. “Too many letters, you know how Zon is famous with his detailed instructions on paper because he doesn’t want to explain everything verbally.”
“I heard that,” Tommy responds from their earpiece in an annoyed tone. They’re sitting on the same plane but ten rows apart, and they’re connected to each other and to M in the HQ with a single, transparent earpiece. “Please brief him, Tutor. Fighter is hopeless when it comes to reading procedural text and he does whatever he wants on the field as the result. This is an important mission and M has said that I have to bring all five of you back in one piece.”
“Hey, I still finished the mission even without reading your instruction,” protests Zee.
“Yeah, and you nearly died more often than not.” Zee can feel Tommy rolling his eyes from his seat. “Tutor is much better than Max, stop complaining and listen to him. We’ll go different ways after landing, I’ll meet you guys again at the HQ.”
Saint chuckles at the small commotion and slides his finger on his tablet, showing Zee something on the screen—it’s a background check of a person Zee is familiar with, complete with a picture. His eyes widen when he realizes that the person is one of the closest officials to Prime Minister himself.
“Isn’t he Prime Minister’s Chief Secretary?”
“You’re right, he’s our main target. He most likely is the mastermind behind the plane crash plan, and he’s dangerous. We have to stop him before he gets to the Prime Minister, and we’re allowed to injure if it’s necessary.”
Zee blinks. They’re about to arrest one of the most powerful people in their country, without any help and backup from the police.
“What is he doing in Rome?” Zee asks again.
“Sealing the deal, I think. In the USB I gave you the other day, they mentioned Rome as the place where they’re going to meet before the execution—the pilot who is in charge of flying is an Italian man. Prime Minister has a business trip abroad soon, they’re trying to be one step ahead of time.”
“They’re planning to hijack the plane,” says Zee, and Saint nods affirmatively. “Shit, this one is difficult. Are you confident we can come back alive?”
Saint leans back to his seat and laughs. “I have to. There are many things I haven’t done, I haven’t even confessed to the person I like. So, coming back alive more like my personal objective, the top priority.”
The person Saint likes. Zee exhales deeply.
“Do you talk often with them? Dropping hints about how you feel for them?”
Saint shakes his head. “I only met him twice, and we talked a little… but never about personal matter. Oh, I kissed him on our first meeting, but I couldn’t talk about it with him because he looked uncomfortable when he’s with me and I’m afraid he would avoid me if I brought the topic up. So I waited for him to start talking to me about it first, but I guess he’s kind of dense.”
They met twice and Saint already kissed them when they first met, okay. That’s a lot to be called a progress. Zee starts losing more and more hope until something inside his brain clicks.
Saint catches his reaction and adds with a smile, “I kissed him in Rome, in the middle of a party that he doesn’t like. Can you believe I fell in love at first sight with someone who had no fancy taste?”
Wait.
What the fuck?
[]
It takes Zee a lot of of mental slaps to finally, fucking finally understand that Saint is talking about him—he’s the person that Saint likes, for god’s sake—but they don’t have time to resolve that matter because the transit at Moscow, Russia, becomes one hell of an escape for Alpha One after their plan is blown and discovered by the opposite party and now, Chief Secretary’s henchmen are chasing them down the road.
Zee and Saint don’t have time to steal a car or to think of any transportation at all, so they run along the footpath behind the main road heading to the slums. Pretty safe for now, but surely not for long.
“Don’t panic, agents. Japan and Tanthai are on their way back to get to you, for now look for a place to hide. I’ll help you escape, but it will take time. They won’t allow me to turn on my laptop prior to take off.” Tommy speaks through their earpiece.
“Zon, in case you forgot—” Zee pulls Saint’s hand to hide behind a narrow brick corner and duck down, waiting until the men walk past them to regain their breath. “—this is a foreign land and I don’t speak Russian. Wait, do you?” he turns to Saint. Saint shakes his head. “Tutor doesn’t speak Russian too. Are you sure it won’t be a disadvantage for us?"
“It won’t, unless you get killed. Therefore, don’t get killed. Bear it for twenty more minutes, is it clear?”
Zee and Saint exchange glances and nod, they don’t really have a chance anyway.
“Okay, twenty minutes. Make sure you can get our ass outta here by then.”
“You know I don’t make broken promises, Agent Fighter. HQ will be monitoring your moves in the meantime, until you’re reconnected to my system.”
One of their foes found their hiding spot and starts shooting at them. Zee dodges the first two bullets and throws an aluminium barrel at him, giving some time for Saint to pull out the gun from his holster and load it.
Saint rolls to the side of the wall, pulling Zee close to him and switching their position so he can have better view to shoot. “I can handle them for now, but we need a plan. A quick one is preferred.”
Zee looks around, they’re surrounded by tall brick buildings, a sniper’s favorite place. The only problem is that the buildings are occupied, so it’s impossible to go through one of them to go to the roof. Asking permission is even more impossible, but they’re short of time and Saint will run out of bullets soon if he doesn’t move now.
“I’ll go to the rooftop,” Zee points to the nearest building, it’s not too tall and the space is open enough for him to climb on. “I take Barrett with me. I’ll make way for you from up there, can you cover for me until I get there?”
Saint shoots twice before nodding at Zee. “I will try,” he says. “I’ll count. You can run under my cue, and we’ll meet again at the rooftop.”
“Okay.” Zee and Saint gets into position, but right before they move, Zee launches forward to peck Saint on the lips, surprising both of them—luckily Saint is quick to come to his senses again.
“What was that?” he asks, an amused smile playing on his lips. His blinding smile makes Zee forget for a second that they’re currently in a dangerous situation.
“A see you later seal,” answers Zee quickly, hands still cupping Saint’s small face with no intention of letting go soon. “Please stay alive. You’re inside my future lover’s body and I have a lot of things to talk about with him, so, please. Be safe.”
“I thought I’d never get to hear something like that from you,” Saint grins when Zee lets go of his face. “Get ready. Now, run!”
It takes three minutes to assembly Barrett, and ten other minutes to injure their foes from Zee’s spot—just when the hell did they multiply in number?—to clear the way for Saint, who runs out of ammunition in the midst of the fight, and he relies solely on Zee and his rifle. Saint follows him up when the situation is much safer, knocking down two men who tried to hold onto his legs, with Zee finishing up the job by landing a bullet on each of their ankle.
Zee puts down the rifle, smiling at Saint. The latter smiles back and crashes into his embrace, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. Zee kisses him back, returning the overwhelming sensation tenfold.
“I thought you would never bring up the topic about the kiss,” Zee whispers on Saint’s lips. “That kiss kept me up at night for days because I couldn’t stop thinking about it, but later then we met and you looked okay, almost looked like you didn’t remember about that, or that was the way you did your job. I was confused, but mostly in love, and I felt like a fool and a coward.”
“You are a fool, indeed.” Saint hits Zee’s chest with his fist lightly. “What kind of man do you think I am, to kiss someone out of the blue if I’m not romantically interested in them? Can’t you tell from the way I look at you? I speak to you?”
“How would I know, we only met twice and it was always about work! Also Tommy told me falling in love is a pain in the ass, but I really don’t know what to do with this feeling because it keeps growing and not stopping.”
“Me too,” says Saint, touching Zee’s forehead with his own. “I kept thinking about that kiss too, where else would I get the courage to do that if I hadn’t fallen for you that day? I thought we would never meet again and that’s why I did that, I wanted you to remember me. When we met again you looked like you wanted to leave as soon as possible and I was afraid I made you uncomfortable.”
Zee laughs at the stupid inner misunderstanding between him and Saint. They’re both fools; but then, only fools fall in love and guess they’re two of them.
Their earpiece beeps and Tommy’s voice greets them. “Good job and thank you for staying alive, agents. Please put aside your make out session because we have something more important to do. Meet Japan and Tanthai at the main road intersection and take a car to…”
Zee offers Saint his hand that the latter takes with a wide smile. He doesn’t bother to listen to the rest of Tommy’s instruction, he believes that the person beside him has better hearing and comprehending ability than he is, and he believes that Tommy understands that staring at Saint is a more urgent task for Zee to do.
“...damn, Agent Fighter. You didn’t listen to me at all, did you, lovestruck fool?”
“I didn’t, Zon, sorry,” says Zee, glancing at Saint, not sorry at all. “But I’m with Tutor and I know I’m safe with him.”
Saint giggles and shakes his head, but Zee knows they share the same sentiment because Saint glances back at him and tightens the grip between their interlaced fingers.
Zee is falling like the stars—bright and fast and makes his heart feel like jumping out of his ribcage, almost feels like physically falling—and falling in love might not be the perfect fit for field agents to do, but Zee remembers Tommy said that this feeling is purely raw and intuitive, so Zee decides to follow his intuition and loving every moment of it.
They still holding hands the moment they reunite with Park and Seng inside the car M sent for them, not letting go even when they’re being chased for the second time.
“Let’s see how far they can go after us,” Park steps on the gas pedal, with Tommy’s encouraging laugh ringing on their ears. “Fighter, take out the rifle under the seat. Tutor, your favorite handgun is under the arm rest. I’ll make a turn and you take care of the rest.”
Saint and Zee move simultaneously to find the guns and pull them out.
“I will unlock the door and open the car roof at the count of three. You have approximately fifteen seconds to attack, then get back down. Aim to the wheels first, don’t blow the car up because we’ll die as well as the impact,” Seng explains.
“So,” Zee loads his rifle and positions his finger on the trigger. “Do you like pasta for dinner?”
Saint laughs, “I do,” he answers. “Did you just ask me out for a date?”
“Yeah, precisely. And according to the plan, we should be at Rome during the weekend, it’s the more reason to ask you out.”
Saint hums and nods. “Sounds great. When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”
“I heard they’re also into romantic strolls after dinner along the river. Do you mind?”
“Not a problem by me.”
Park makes a face at them from the front seat. “Okay, guys, stop your shameless discussion and let’s get to work, shall we? Alpha One, you ready?"
“I’m ready,” says Zee, rifle in hand.
“I’m ready,” says Saint, finger on the trigger.
Seng presses the buttons in front of him and in one click, the roof is open and the door has been unlocked. Zee climbs up and pokes at Saint’s shoulder without looking down.
Saint shifts his eyes to Zee’s upturned palm and gives it a brief smack.
“Together?” Zee asks, voice slightly muffled by the wind outside.
“Together," Saint repeats after him, loud enough for Zee to hear.
And the battle started.