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/// 1
“Well, seems our suspect isn’t in hiding,” Frank muttered not ten seconds after they stepped into the restaurant.
“What are the odds that we’d run into him here? I guess he’d be kind of hard to miss, but the odds- How is this our life, Frank?”
“Joe.”
“I know, I know.”
“Okay, we don’t want to seem confrontational. Well, totally confrontational. Are we sending you in?”
“Why me? You’re more animal-savvy. The guy worked at the zoo. You know. Where the theft was. The theft we’ve been investigating for the past week? Zoo, Frank. Are you hearing me?”
“Joe. The last time I tried to talk to Nancy I literally ran into a wall and she’s one of my best friends. Do you think I’m smooth enough to talk alone to a stranger?”
“Can you say that again and let me record it? Especially the bit about Nancy.”
“No!”
“Okay, okay, I’ll go…”
First things first. Joe straightened the collar of his polo. Frank insisted on wearing dark sweaters at all times, but Joe liked to let his biceps hang out in the open where they belonged, being admired and fawned over by everyone. Everyone who was his age. Well, everyone that he was attracted to. Which, that number in itself was pretty big but whatever, he liked to wear things that had this thing called sex appeal, Frank, it gets me the clues without even trying and Frank had punched him in the shoulder and told him to get over himself the second they’d reached that point in the conversation.
Anyway.
Joe fluffed his hair, scoffing at Frank’s muffled snort at the action. The restaurant, Polar Gate—which sounded like a knockoff Christmas/adventure movie honestly—had been recommended by a local they’d stopped outside of the reptile exhibit. The entrance was large, the left and back walls lined with booths of knockoff fake leather and the remaining tables were arranged artfully in two groupings separated by low walls. The bar, and therefore (target numero uno) Sonny Joon, was to the right.
Frank spoke to the hostess in a low voice (with no small amount of smolder) and headed to the booth nearest the bar. He clapped Joe on the shoulder as he passed by. Joe cracked his neck and barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes. The hostess regarded him reproachfully.
Joe slipped into a cocky saunter, one that made him appear harmless and carefree, and took off away from the hostess at a near run, trying to give off the appearance of floating past the diners and the waitresses and his brother until he reached Sonny. His cheek was pressed to a notebook left open on the counter, glasses askew on his face, eyelashes fluttering. He didn’t react even when Joe cleared his throat.
“Hey,” Joe greeted, leaning against the bar and taking in the other man’s full head of purple hair. Only part of it was green. And a larger part was blue. And was that some pink hidden away behind his ear…?
“Hello.” Sonny raised his head slowly, almost dramatically, like he was trying to channel a movie villain. Exhausted brown eyes glimmered behind purple glasses, a soft mouth pulled down in a frown, his dark eyebrows furrowed, his fist was gripped tight around his glass. Then Sonny’s eyes met his face and the mask fell off like a crook mid-monologue. Without his glare, Joe would say Sonny reminded him of a wide-eyed anime forest animal. A very tired one. Or something. Joe liked his face.
Time for the assessment. Joe sized him up. A couple inches taller than Joe, lazy posture, bent neck, broad shoulders and a smaller waist. His ankles were crossed at the tines of the bar stool, purple and white speckled converse, black dress pants under his shirt.
Then Sonny sat up straight in a flurry, pushing his notebook to the side, away from Joe, away from his drink, adjusting his glasses and brushing his hair away from his forehead. His eyelids drooped to half-mast and snapped back up. Did the guy ever sleep? “Are you the detective that left me five voicemails?” His gaze didn’t leave Joe’s face. That is to say, his eyes took in every line of Joe’s face, travelling from eyes to lips to his neck and back again. “Because I need to be in the right mood for detectives, and today is not one of those days.” He dropped his right elbow to the counter and lay his head on it, regarding Joe with a curious stare that was seriously at odds with his words, because he was definitely giving off the vibe of being interested in something.
“That’s me. The detective. And my brother, who is so not smooth that he insisted I take the wheel on this one. Can I sit?”
“Please,” Sonny replied. His fingers tapped slowly against the rim of his cup, one, two, three… “Hey,” he called to the bartender. The woman came over with a fresh mug of the blue and pink concoction for Sonny. “Thank you. Can you get my friend here a Sky Full of Stars?” She nodded and whisked away to begin making whatever that was.
Joe sat. Sonny took a sip, staring straight ahead, sighing out of his nose as he leaned on his hand. A quick glance over Joe’s shoulder showed Joe that Frank was waiting impatiently, fidgeting and eating his way through a basket of complimentary garlic bread, which was just unfair. Frank didn’t love garlic like Joe did, didn’t appreciate it properly because he was always worried about hygiene and his breath. Which Joe got, okay, it’s not like he ate garlic the days he went on dates or had to have an intimate conversation with someone, but Frank seemed to think that someone was gonna hide in the shadows and surprise-kiss him constantly, so he normally refused to eat it. And the fact that today of all days, when Frank got shy and wasn’t smooth or whatever, was the day his brother was going to have garlic and he couldn’t get any was just unfair. Why did Joe always have to be the smooth one? It was a curse, honestly…
Joe jumped as his drink was placed in front of him with a solid thunk. It was in a tall skinny glass, the soda a dark, almost navy blue that turned to sky blue to dark purple. White ice shown through the glass, a slice of starfruit adorned the rim.
“Is this…”
“Delicious. One of my favorites.” Sonny was leaning towards him as Joe sampled the drink, turning the liquid over in his mouth, tasting of blueberry and mango and something tingly sweet that curled his tongue. He almost felt glittery, like Sonny was. Could a person be glittery? Sonny was. “Tastes like a dream, doesn’t it?” Sonny continued, eyes absent and sleep-ridden. “Does not cause hallucinations, is not poisoned, all that great normal people stuff. What do you want?”
“Just a few answers.” Joe resisted the urge to glance again at Frank, who was undoubtedly sulking in the booth, probably texting Nancy at this point. As if Joe could blame him; the going on this interview was moving at a glacial pace. He threw another glug back like he was taking shots.
“You want to call Frank over here?”
Was Sonny a mind-reader? Joe blinked from the Sky Full of Stars up to Sonny’s face, the way he appeared almost owlish with his purple glasses, the wild colored hair (he would never get over that hair), the spaceship-patterned T-shirt under a preppy black blazer, his thumbnails painted aqua and the gentle curve of his lips and Joe almost wondered if Sonny had slipped something into his drink and he was hallucinating.
Joe’s fingers tightened on his cup as he watched Sonny’s brow arch. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Sonny answered his own question after a drawn out pause. “Are you going to interrogate me now?”
“I don’t want to interrogate you. I just want to talk.” Joe tore his stare away and downed a gulp of his drink. It slipped down his throat, cold and sweet and shimmering.
“You detectives, always trying to be subtle. Good galaxies, why are you all so damn pretty?”
Joe choked on the last swallow of the Sky Full of Stars. “…did you just say ‘good galaxies’?” he coughed.
“I’m glad that’s what you got from that. Interrogation? I’m waiting.” Sonny waved down the bartender before Joe could reply. “Could you get him a Nova Sunset, please? Thanks.” The sweet smile Sonny offered her turned to a frown when he returned his gaze to Joe. “You’re not very good at this. You should be the one buying me things and flattering me, not the other way around.”
“We’re getting there,” Joe replied, inwardly surprised at his own silence as well. “What are you drinking?”
Sonny smiled, eyes straight ahead to the wall behind the bar, sharing the expression Bess got on a sugar high. Or on a boy high. It happens. “You’d probably rather not know its name.”
“Embarrassing alien drink? Loaded with spinach and chicken hearts?” The liquid in Sonny’s glass was varying shades of blue, purple, pink, flirting with each other amongst the ice and cherries bobbing around.
“Worse.” Sonny widened his eyes and gawked at Joe, obviously waiting for a reaction, and when Joe veered back Sonny laughed at his own ridiculousness. “No, I’m not telling you.”
“Fair enough,” Joe responded. “How did you come to work for the zoo?” The bartender brought Joe’s drink, pink and bright, ice cubes gleaming with glitter. Hopefully it was edible, or Sonny and the bartender were conspiring to kill him. It smelled perfume-y, like a fragrance his Aunt Gertrude would wear when she was feeling particularly spry.
Sonny huffed a laugh. “How did I end up here? If I’m going to tell you about it, we’re moving to a booth.” Sonny twisted around, searching for an empty one. Frank was beginning to stand; Joe caught his eyes and gestured for him to sit back down. Frank did, face confused and posture stick-straight in discomfort.
“I’ll tell you what you need,” Sonny told him, leaning forward across the table. Joe felt his limbs tighten up of their own accord. “And then I’ll disappear.”
“I guess I can’t really argue with that.”
/// 2
Frank was tapping away, trying to turn up clues on the computer. Joe, snoop extraordinaire, was doing his thang searching the room. There were odds and ends scattered about, staplers and flashlights and pens and pencils. Joe gave up and talked Frank out of the chair with his superior persuasion skills. Mostly flicking him in the face. Joe moved the cursor to and fro until he landed on ‘spending and budget per department’ in another app. Frank brightened from over Joe’s left shoulder.
“That could give us some more insight to the kind of embezzling someone could be doing around here to fund their little project.”
“Dang it! There’s a password on it!” Joe moaned. “I don’t understand. This is a former employee’s office. It was hard enough finding the key to this office, why is all of their safeguarding stuff sill here?”
“I’m sure we can find a hint for it somewhere,” Frank said, leaning forward to get a better view. The link to the last bit of info they needed had, predictably, a password. It was on a black screen with grey stripes, mocking Joe with its boringness that probably offered little or no hint to help them out. “Click on the password hint.”
Joe did. A smaller window popped up on the screen. It was a little clip art of a cup of coffee, a small stream of steam raising and curling around it. Beneath it twisted several curvy words: my second favorite planet.
What.
“What is it?” Frank frowned at the logo. “Whose computer is this?”
“Wait, I’ve seen this coffee logo before,” Joe replied. “I found this card… Remember that Sonny guy we ran into on the zoo case?”
“How could I forget…” Frank sighed. That confused Joe. What issue did Frank have with Sonny? But that was a topic for another time.
“He’s a space guy,” Joe explained. “Not to mention anything but a skeptic. The background of this computer is a mess of alien doodles.”
“That’s not exactly…”
“No, there’s a connection. See!” Joe leaned back and dug in his pocket, pulling out a small debit-card-sized piece of cardstock. “I knew he’d been here; I just wasn’t sure whether or not it was relevant…”
Frank stole the card, straightening and taking a few steps away, and then strolling back, just to stretch his legs. “‘For one of those not-stellar days,’” He read the printed words. “‘One Sonny special.’ I see. The logo on this card is the same as the one on the computer!”
“On the back,” Joe prompted, “In that terrible handwriting.”
Frank squinted at the card. “‘If you’ve forgotten, check the art in the cup.’”
“It’s a coffee shop,” Joe pulled out his phone, tapping furiously. “It’s in a spa across the street. We’ll need to get in there.”
“Can we go in just for the coffee?” Frank asked. Joe scrolled
“I doubt it. And we need the cover. You’re getting a spa day!”
“That seems more like your kind of deal.” Frank folded his arms and his brow creased.
“Just trying to convert you,” Joe shrugged. “I like getting massages.”
Joe veered away as Frank poked his cheek. “You and your sweet baby skin.” Frank was a jerk. A jerk with callouses and rough skin while Joe had nice, soft hands that were killer to hold.
“Jealous. But you won’t be once your skin’s caught up with mine.”
Frank slouched, losing his strong posture. “Ugh, fine.”
“It will drain all the stress out of your body, Frank.” Joe closed down the windows on the computer and led the way to the door. They both held their breath, listening for footsteps, and they made their great escape.
The trip across the street took two minutes, tops, signing Frank up for an exfoliation at the spa took maybe seven (the register lady was a flirt, and Joe could admit his brother wasn’t totally disgusting), and Joe declaring himself merely the moral support and fleeing to the tiny coffee shop took even less.
The jungle was kind of the theme of the entire spa. The entrance had palm trees, fake flowers lined the hallways, mud baths and natural treatments were largely advertised, the guests’ robes were a soft forest green. The entire setup, floors and walls included, was made of dark wood and the walls were covered with synthetic plants like a moss creeping up the side of a house. Winding through the foliage to find anything must be a pain. Rainforest sounds, monkeys howling and birds shrieking and the occasional soft growl of a wild animal, echoed through the small area. Was that a fake monkey hidden amongst the trees? Joe squinted.
The coffee shop was no exception to the rule. The floor was made of green tile, white couches set artfully around the room with coffee tables to match the walls and floor of the hallways. Torch-like lamps kept the room bright and cheerful, and with the huge windows it felt better to Joe than the almost cave-like rooms he’d passed in his perilous journey to get here.
“Hey, I’d like to use this.” Joe shoved the card at the cashier and pulled out his wallet to pay for it.
“No, you don’t have to get out your money,” the cashier replied slowly. “These are prepaid. Your drink will be ready shortly. Take a seat.”
“Sounds good.” Joe sat at a table by a window, taking in the coffee shop, finding the animals hidden in the trees and grasses.
“You’re not Mr. Joon.” A blonde woman (nametag read ‘Carina’) approaching had a cup of coffee in a saucer, and she set it before him with a frown. Joe took a peek at the little picture someone had drawn in cream. A little Saturn, with stars around it. Beautiful. He took out his cell and snapped several pictures.
“No, just a friend of his. More like an acquaintance.”
“Just a friend? You must be someone important to Mr. Joon,” the server—Carina—said, cocking her hip and staring at him. “I don’t know what kind of person he’d give his card to.”
Joe shrugged. “Did he come around a lot?”
“He has a specialized order, doesn’t he? He liked the pineapple and hibiscus mud wrap. He was always ready to a fall asleep, but he never did.” She inclined her head toward the cup. “Pretty sure coffee was his lifeblood.”
“What’s with the whole,” Joe waved his hand over the picture. “thing?”
“Mr. Joon loved his galaxies and his conspiracies,” said Carina. “He liked to talk. He would rattle off his alien types, his favorite planets, theories and explanations about natural phenomena.”
“Favorite planets?” Joe demanded. “What were they? Can you remember?”
“It’s been so many months…” Carina tilted her head to the side. “How could I remember?”
“I just need to know the second one,” Joe pleaded. He gestured to the drawing of Saturn. “Was it…?”
“No, that’s just the only planet Dorine can draw, and she was half in love with him,” Carina said with a disdainful huff. “As with almost everyone he meets.” Joe could see why. Sonny was very good-looking, especially those eyes. “I believe the second planet was… Neptune? Yes, that sounds right. ‘Carina, did you know that Neptune, my second favorite planet—insert useless fact here—isn’t that amazing? And I, of course, would indulge him, because he spent so much money here he could single-handedly pay my salary. Why don’t you know any of this?” She eyed him suspiciously. “You said you knew him. And it’s impossible not to know quite a bit about him after only one conversation.” Joe thought of the story Sonny had told him at that frozen restaurant, about knowing the director of the zoo and hopping over when he got fired from some job way too close to Mount Everest for Joe’s taste. “You’re not like most of the people he would bring around here. You ask too many questions.”
“I’ve literally asked you, like, five questions. At what point is it ‘too many’?” Joe put his hands around the coffee cup, felt the heat drifting away from it. He should probably start drinking it and hope it wasn’t loaded with some hallucinogen. With his opinions on aliens, Sonny seemed the type. But Joe hated cold coffee.
“It becomes too many when I start to doubt you.” Carina didn’t meet his eyes. Wow. Cryptic. “Have a nice day.”
“Thanks,” Joe called out to her halfheartedly. “No way I’m tipping nice,” he muttered to himself. He took a final glance at the coffee and its slowly disintegrating image. Then he took a deep sip and nearly spat it out. “Does this syrup actually have any coffee in it?” Used to the bitter grit of real coffee, Sonny’s dreadful concoction might have turned his taste buds off of anything sweet for time and all eternity.
Joe took another drink.
Okay, it wasn’t that bad. There was…caramel?
At least he’d gotten the second favorite planet.
Neptune.
Great.
///3
Frank was less than thrilled, as usual. Frank was so uptight. At least he got regular massages now.
“Where do we even start?” Frank complained. How dare he have a bad attitude?
“Hunting down the stolen one-of-a-kind remote control flying saucer? Let’s start with the geeks.”
“Sounds about right. Anything alien on the menu today?”
Joe examined the schedule for the convention—SpaceCon? StarCon?
“Here they are! Sci-Fi In the Modern Age… Space Junk and its Effect on Our Interplanetary Affairs… Visitors From the Skies... Hey, that’s Sonny! Says so right here!” Joe jabbed the schedule right where it had Sonny’s name. “He’s doing a panel!”
Frank shrugged, unimpressed. “I heard he wrote a book.”
“Really? That’s awesome!”
Frank sighed, deep and long-suffering, but Joe saw the amusement behind it. “You wanna visit Sonny? That’s fine with me.” Frank stretched, cracking his back and his knuckles.
“I don’t wanna visit Sonny! We know him, and he’s here! That’s all I meant.”
Frank snorted, but Joe didn’t get the joke. “We need to question the alien enthusiasts anyway. We’ll cover more ground if we go solo. I’ll check out…” Frank wrinkled his nose. “Sci-Fi in the Modern Age. That seems like the least painful.”
“I know you’re a closet nerd. See you,” Joe said, already checking the location and time. He had about thirty minutes. Frank grabbed his shoulder.
“Be careful out there,” Frank told him. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”
Joe nodded and took off through the sea of overheated bodies. Sonny’s panel was all the way across the building.
Joe arrived with ten minutes to spare. Sonny wasn’t there yet, which was something Joe probably should have assumed instead of thinking he’d walk in and be immediately greeted by the man himself. Oh well. Time to get to work.
“Excuse me,” Joe said to the man standing next to him. The dude was wearing eyeliner and spandex. “Did you see that flying saucer thing earlier? Wasn’t it, like, science-y?”
Joe started to work his way around the room. He managed to scrape out several details from some of the con-goers (after a little grilling) and then Sonny strode onto the little stage like a king to dictate to his people. His hair was purple and pink and blue and he wore a purple dress shirt and Bermuda shorts. Joe applauded with the rest of them as Sonny took a seat, an easy smirk splashed on his face.
Sonny took questions. He voiced theories and debated them with those who disagreed. He showed graphs and photos of ancient artwork that held proof of alien visitation.
Joe made his rounds, careful to not be loud or rude, questioning people, taking note of those who had too little or too much to say on the matter, fixing the opinions in his memory.
By the time that panel ended, Joe was hot, sweating through his T-shirt and flannel. He could feel a headache working its way through his head, and he was super thirsty. So many regrets. But he didn’t have time for a break. He had to talk to Sonny, who may have connections or insights or just commentary to help them out, and Sonny was being escorted out of the room and into the hall. Joe shoved his way through the hordes of people until he caught up to the swarm of people in Sonny’s face.
“Sonny!” Joe cried. He elbowed the man beside him and hip-checked a woman out of the way. He was at the front. “Sonny.”
Sonny’s shoulders were slumped, he was leaning forward slightly, there were slight circles under his brown eyes. Joe stumbled forward. His heartbeat was through the roof. Joe could feel it drumming in his ears.
“Detective,” Sonny said coolly. “Are you alright?” He asked in a rush when he took a second to actually notice Joe. Sonny stood there, tilting his head from side to side. Then, “Thank you!” Sonny called, and he seized Joe’s elbow and steered him out of the throng.
Joe’s feet nearly gave out under him, his vision blurred for an instant and came back again. Sonny snatched the arm he wasn’t already holding and supported Joe, helped him walk. Sonny hurried them along. The army of people around them grew thick again. Joe’s stomach turned. “Water, please?” Sonny had stopped at a booth. Joe inhaled and exhaled, resting his head on Sonny’s shoulder. “Here, small sips.” Joe felt the bottle bump against his lips and he opened his mouth to take a drink. “You’re fine. Come on, Detective.” Sonny tilted the bottle back again and Joe took more water. “My room has AC, come on.” He hooked an arm around Joe’s waist. Joe wanted to walk on his own, but his body was tired, and letting Sonny take his weight felt good.
They made their way down the hallway, stopping occasionally for Sonny to help Joe drink water. By the time Sonny unlocked a door and gently guided Joe to a couch, Joe had regained some of his strength. The air in the room was cool. Sonny fluttered around, turning down the temperature on the thermostat and straightening his mess on the table and shoving some ice from the mini fridge into a bag to set on Joe’s forehead.
There was a mirror on one wall, Joe noticed, one with those lights all around it. A chair sat in front of it, across from a window. A fire extinguisher and a first aid kit took up more space in the corner. All of Sonny’s stuff was thrown haphazardly on the coffee table, books and figurines and snacks.
“Hey,” Sonny said. Joe halted his thoughts and did as Sonny asked. “Here.” Sonny handed him the water bottle, and Joe took another tentative gulp. “Heat exhaustion.” Sonny yanked the chair over so he could sit at Joe’s side. “It’s a classic con problem.” Joe glared at him but downed another mouthful. “You here for a case, Detective?”
Joe stared hard at the ceiling trying to put his thoughts together. “It’s Joe. And yes.”
“The stolen saucer?”
“You got it.”
Sonny played with his fingers, drumming and tapping and twisting. They were long and thin, and Joe liked them a lot. Sonny got up to recheck the thermostat and came back to his seat. “I saw you solved the case with the director of the zoo board.”
“Tried your coffee. In that spa in Montana.” The ice was cold and wet on Joe’s forehead, dripping down the side of his face.
Sonny raised his eyebrows. “You did?”
“Found one of your cards. It helped me get into the records on your computer.” Joe clenched his left eye shut to avoid a droplet sliding directly toward it.
Sonny nodded. His eyelids drooped and snapped back up again. Sonny should probably be the one lying back. Joe tried to work out the mechanics in his distracted brain… they would probably both be able to lie down if they squeezed.
…Did heat exhaustion go to your brain?
Sonny wandered back over to his mini-fridge and pulled out a Krolmeister Energy. “What are your leads?”
“Leads?” Sonny’s throat bobbed as he inhaled the straight-up caffeine. His white teeth split into a smile after he set the drink aside.
“Come on, Detective, a lead?” Sonny bent forward to peel off the ice pack and toss it away. He chose to press his hand to Joe’s skin instead. His hand was cool and calloused and rough. “Are you dying?”
Joe felt his heartbeat speed up and his face get warm. “I’m fine.” He tugged Sonny’s fingers away, those lovely tan fingers with the thumbnails painted pastel pink. “What can you tell me about the saucer?”
“German make. Lab-grown diamonds on it. Not worth all the hullabaloo everyone made up for it. Nothing like the real thing, in any way, shape, or form.”
It’s not like Joe was so quick to disbelieve in, well, anything, but he was getting that special separation anxiety that came from him or his brother being on the wrong end of too many crimes. “I should probably find my brother.” Joe toyed with the lid of the bottle, going over his observations in his mind.
“Keep it,” Sonny’s smile had slipped away. The lines on his face grew longer, and he checked the clock. “I have another panel I want to attend. You alright to stand?”
Joe managed to haul himself to his feet in reply. “I’m good. Thank you.”
They both stood there for an instant. Somehow a handshake didn’t seem to fit the situation, but then again Joe had no idea what would fit the situation.
“Good luck,” Sonny said, and he snatched up Joe’s elbow again, leading him to the door. “I’m well on the way to rooting for you, Detective.” Joe had a sudden flashback to a date with some girl years back, one that ended with a viciously awkward exchange at the door and ended their brief relationship.
Sonny raked a hand through his hair. Joe stepped out of the door and spun around, something stupid on his lips.
Joe’s phone buzzed.
Frank.
Sonny leaned against the door frame as Joe opened the text.
“That’s my cue,” Joe said. “Stay out of this world!”
Sonny snorted. “Goodbye, Detective,” he called as Joe went on his way down the hall.
Was this how soldiers felt when their spouses waved them off to war?
“Call me Joe next time!” Joe retaliated. Somehow he felt they would meet again. After all, coincidences were part of the Hardy lifestyle.
“What took you so long?” Frank asked when he saw Joe approaching.
“Lots of people to pester,” Joe replied.
“Sonny have anything to say?”
“Diamonds are lab-grown, it was made in Germany, and it’s not that great.”
“We knew the first two already.”
“I know.”
“Here’s what Turner said at his panel. It might’ve been a reference. You know how some of these criminal types love to shove their clues around and laugh at how little people with smaller brains than them can see and understand…”
///4
Bess was a fantastic hugger. She might be in Joe’s top five favorite huggers. Joe loved Bess to death, and at her wheedling he had been all too eager to pay good old Yellowstone a visit.
“Hi!” he greeted, picking Bess up in his arms and spinning her around.
After all, who else would she think to call when Nancy was out of the country and there was a mystery happening around her?
“I forgot you could cry like that,” Frank said when Joe set Bess down. She pouted.
“I care about wolves. Like, a lot. They’re cute and furry. And they don’t deserve to be poached!” She folded her arms. “I just want to help them.”
“And you’re sure you saw someone removing them from the area?”
“Yes!” George replied. “In the dead of the night, onto an unmarked vehicle.”
“If you ask me, the first thing we need to do is take a tour,” Joe announced to the entire hotel room.
“Wolves are being taken, Joe!” Bess lectured. “Sort out your priorities!”
“Bess, m’dear-”
“That’s actually not a bad idea,” George mused. “People on tours ask invasive questions and take excessive photographs. Are you gonna make this an undercover deal?”
“We’ll probably lie low for now,” Frank said. Joe nodded along. “Just for today, and if we can find evidence we’ll call Dad to approach the park about us formally assisting.”
“Alright!” Joe clapped his hands together. “I can’t wait to get a tour of this place. I’ve been nostalgic for it for years and years!”
“You want us to come along?” George asked.
“You’d better believe we’re coming along!” Bess gathered up her little pull-string backpack. “These two need the supervision.”
“Are we gonna find a tour guide?” Joe questioned. Frank handed George useful things and she shoved them into her bag or cast them aside.
“There’s a regular tour sort of deal. One of the rangers offered Bess the world- I mean, last minute tours. You know how it is.” George snorted.
“Not her fault she’s gorgeous,” Joe answered.
“I’d say it works out rather well for all of us,” Bess huffed. “I texted Luke. Let’s go.”
George drove, thank goodness. Sitting shotgun to Bess in a conversation was scary enough, actually being in a car with her in control was nothing short of a nightmare.
The rangers at the entrance checked their IDs and their pass and let them through. George wove through the trees and trails like a pro until they pulled up and parked somewhat near the Old Faithful Inn. Bess’ ranger friend met them in front of the building. Ranger Simpson was tall, as tall as Frank, with tan skin and black hair and dark blue eyes. His pants were extremely tight, and his face just lit up when he saw Bess.
“Welcome back, Bess,” he said to her, and his eyes narrowed when he caught sight of Joe and Frank. “Hello, I’m Ranger Simpson.” He extended a hand to Frank, who took it.
“I’m Frank. This is my brother Joe.” Joe shook the man’s hand, nodding at Ranger Simpson’s glare.
“We’re friends with Bess and George. Like, BFF levels of friendship.” Joe pulled his hand out of the ranger’s death grip, resisting the urge to wince. “Very platonic love, over here.” He took several steps back, both to stay out of the guy’s way and to give him and Bess their space.
“Subtle,” George muttered out of the side of her mouth as Bess began to rant at the ranger at length.
“Thank you.”
“Let’s get going!” Apparently Bess had cut her tirade short. “Luke says this guy has crazy stories to tell! This might be fun!”
Ranger Simpson led them to the deck surrounding Old Faithful.
“He should be along at any time,” the ranger said, and Joe took that as his cue to zone out.
Joe inhaled deeply, and over the sounds and smells of everyone clustered together, he could smell what he imagined to be the great outdoors. The crowd was thick and diverse, people from all over, of every shade and shape, all spread out, walking this way and that. A man in lederhosen, a woman in full-out cowgirl gear, a kid in his football jersey, a Japanese couple sitting on a bench, all of them facing the geyser.
Before Joe’s eyes, a head of sky blue hair approached, and he couldn’t break his eyes away. Frank followed his gaze.
“Is that…”
“There he is now!” Ranger Simpson went forward to talk to their guide.
“It’s Sonny! Since when was he certified to…”
“If it isn’t my favorite detective,” Sonny cooed. Ranger Simpson had led him over in the time lapse between Joe’s revelation and Joe’s freak out. “How are you?”
Joe couldn’t see Sonny’s eyes behind the man’s pink sunglasses, but his smirk brought a smile to Joe’s face. Sonny was in a galaxy print baseball shirt with khaki Bermuda shorts, matching his khaki hiking boots and his… safari hat? the ones with the floppy brims? but like? the guy version? anyway, it too was standard-issue khaki. Joe liked looking at him. Sonny was nice to look at.
“I’m, uh, great.” Joe grinned inexplicably and shifted on his feet. Why did he feel fluttery all of a sudden? Oh no. “…What happened to the convention thing?”
“It’s the off season,” Sonny said. He greeted Frank, Bess and George; “Hi, I’m Sonny. I’m the tour guide today.”
Bess had straightened her back, pulled her shirt down so it rested lower on her chest, and put on her award-winning smile, the one that had Joe half in love with her the first time they met. “Bess Marvin, and my cousin George.” Ranger Simpson was frowning at Sonny over Bess’ shoulder. Joe almost choked, and he swore he caught a laugh curving up to Sonny’s lips.
The rest of their tour group began to arrive, some toting kids and several holding hands. “Pleasure,” Sonny told Bess, and then he greeted the newcomers.
Ranger Simpson told it right. Sonny made thinly-veiled references to aliens, which was very understated after witnessing Sonny in full-swing at that convention. Geysers were “otherworldly,” rock formations were “stellar” and “genius,” all things were “brilliant,” praising the landscape for being a stroke of smarts rather than a natural phenomenon. Sonny talked tall tales and stopped the entire group to stand on a rock and tell ancient legends about how the view came to be. Joe was vaguely aware that Frank and George were hanging back, hovering and probably snooping for clues and evidence while he and Bess followed Sonny closely, enamored with his stories and his voice and probably just drooling like morons, which, Sonny was nice to look at, so, whatever. Ranger Simpson had evidently found a more troubling situation and turned tail when he saw Bess blink at Sonny slowly and giggle at every word he said.
“And that is it for the tour!” Sonny concluded. “Are there any questions?”
George and Frank were the only two who offered up anything, asking about maintenance and closure and the effect on wildlife, and then they excused themselves and retraced their steps on the dock. The tourists drifted away when the questions died down. Sonny collapsed against their final destination, a telephone pole in the Old Faithful viewing zone. Only Bess and Frank remained of their group.
“I like to end where we began, with Old Faithful, to emphasize just how faithful it is.” Sonny sighed. “It takes a lot out of me.” He pushed his sunglasses up and abruptly Joe had to catch his breath. Apparently Bess didn’t have that problem.
“So what do you normally do, because you told Joe it was the off-season, and I can’t help but wonder who- uh, what you do during the on-season. I can’t begin to imagine what kind of job you must have normally, if you’re this…” she waved her hands, gesturing to all of Sonny. “all the time.”
“I get around,” Sonny remarked. “I have journeys; I’m working my way up. I’m still waiting for my visitors from…”
“Joe,” Frank hissed into Joe’s left ear. Joe flailed and nearly fell over. “We need to talk. George and I overheard something, and then we found something…”
“I figured you two hadn’t just snuck off to fool around,” Sonny winked at the dark-haired pair. George and Frank scoffed. “What are you really here for?”
George directed the question in her eyes to Joe, who gave her an encouraging nod. Is he an ally? Yes. They all edged in a little closer, a small circle of five.
“The wolves,” George said. “Someone’s been taking the wolves.” Was Joe the only one impressed with that sick delivery? George should be a soap opera actress.
“That’s impossible,” Sonny snapped, flicking his sweaty blue hair in emphasis. “Nothing alive gets in or out!”
“You have too much faith in the security here,” Frank shot back. “These two are witnesses.” George met Sonny’s gaze unflinchingly; Bess beamed at him. Sonny groaned and rubbed his eyes.
“You should’ve taken this right to the authorities. Alright, Detective,” Sonny said, and Bess, George and Frank shared confused expressions at the name until they realized Joe didn’t share their bemusement. “What do you need?”
“I don’t know.” Joe glanced at Frank. “Do you have a plan?”
“Yes,” Frank responded. “But we’ll have to break a few rules.”
Joe pinched the bridge of his nose and met Sonny’s brown eyes, the circles underneath and the slight sunglass tan. “We couldn’t ask you to risk your job.”
“It’s okay,” Sonny said right off the bat. Joe and Frank did that thing where they frowned in almost the exact same fashion. “I was getting bored anyway,” Sonny shrugged.
“We’ll have to pull an all-nighter. Nothing serious yet, just a stakeout,” Frank said.
“Please tell me you brought camping gear,” Sonny sighed.
“We don’t need it!” Joe replied. “If we have it we’ll just fall asleep!”
“You want to sit. All night. In the cold.” George was wholly unimpressed.
“That’s about right,” Frank acknowledged. George punched him in the shoulder. “Ow.” Hard. She punched him in the shoulder hard.
“You, go back,” Sonny told Frank. “Get your things ready.” Sonny prodded Joe on the shoulder; Joe felt color run to his cheeks unbidden. “I’ll set this one up for a night in Yellowstone.”
Frank blinked. “I can’t leave Joe here; I know where we need to camp out tonight.”
Sonny scowled. “Okay, lead me to your hideout spot. I’ll see what I can do to get you through the night undetected.”
Four hours later found Frank and Joe crouched in the bushes somewhere in the deeper parts of the forest, their backs against a log thicker than Joe’s head.
“We’re gonna get ticks, Frank, we’re gonna get leeches and lice and worms.”
“I know, Joe, that’s why we wore bug spray.” Frank was sitting at his right, a warm, comforting presence.
“How am I ever gonna live through this?” Joe whined, because they needed the comedic relief. “How am I gonna stay up all night?”
Frank chortled. The metallic zing of Frank’s backpack shredded the silence in the woods and then a cold metal cylinder was shoved into Joe’s hand.
“What is it?” Joe asked. He found a tab on top and popped it open, admiring the cool hiss of the vaper leaving the can.
“Krolmeister Energy. Sonny asked me to give it to you.” Joe could hear Frank’s smile in the darkness.
“Nice of him.” Joe took a guzzle, trying to ignore the way his heart leapt just to hear Sonny’s name. “Now I’ll be up all night to bother you.”
Instead of scolding him, Frank bumped their shoulders together.
In the murky blackness, Joe downed another swallow and smiled.
///5
Joe wanted to take Sonny’s hand, but he didn’t wanna make it weird. Well, not in a bad way. Which. Whatever. Let’s not go in that direction.
The weather. Yeah. The weather.
In typical England fashion, clouds held the sun hostage. Even though Joe was in jeans and a light Henley, he felt warm. Joe and his brother were on a case, they were reunited with Nancy once again, and Sonny was walking beside him. This was shaping up to be Joe’s year. (Well, except he’d already been kidnapped twice, knocked out three times, decked by a zebra, nearly drowned—)
Sonny was wearing jeans and a short-sleeved button up in blue and pink. His hair was blonde and neon green. His shoes were cardinal red high-tops. Sonny was just fantastic, really. And his glasses were pink today. Joe was dead.
They made their way down the cobbled sidewalks towards the maze just outside of town. A tourist attraction, and, of course, it was currently haunted by possessed statues (why possess a statue to let you walk the earth? Why not a person? People can talk and are socially accepted and a human acting kind of weird was nowhere near as noticeable as a walking hunk of rock, gosh). Sonny had just wanted to stargaze, and the screaming tourists were getting in the way or something. So he called Nancy, who invited the Hardys along. Sonny just wanted to stargaze. Joe adored him.
So this wasn’t just a case it was also a vacation. Ish. Either way, Joe had a new photo app and he was pumped to be using it. He’d already snatched a secret picture of Nancy and Frank as they walked along towards their investigation. Gross.
Sonny led Joe through the rose garden to the maze entrance. The flowers were bright and lovely, little petals turned up towards the sun. Joe took at photo. A plaque hung precariously on the hedge wall beside it, reading ‘I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.’ -Michelangelo. Sonny didn’t even glance at it. Joe snapped a picture.
“Any idea what we should be looking for?” Joe dawdled along behind Sonny. He loved hedge mazes. They were so authentic compared to the terrible pixel-y computer games or the muddy corn mazes that came with autumn.
“Walking rocks?” Sonny yawned. “Ahh…Secret passages? Money? Bloody messes?”
“I mean… yes.” Joe blinked. “We should be doing that.”
It was quiet for a bit after that, and Joe barely wanted to breathe to disturb the peace in the air.
“Should we split up?” Sonny sighed. Joe started. They had come to the first fork.
Joe shook his head. “No, we already split with Frank and Nancy. Don’t wanna split any more than that. Gotta have backup.”
Sonny ruffled his hair. “Yeah,” he said after a beat. Sonny turned right and led Joe down the path.
The shrubbery was scarily even on both sides, almost convincing Joe that the world existed solely between these two hedges. Sonny and him were the only people to walk this plane. Just them. Joe, plain and pale and short, blonde and stubborn, and Sonny, tan and bright and fascinating, dynamic and incredible, and they were walking together with all of the galaxy breathing around them, even though Sonny wished and reached for better things, and Joe was grounded as Sonny attempted to take flight.
What a sentimental rant. Joe wanted to take out his camera and photograph Sonny’s back, but he couldn’t. That would be weird. And it was hard to not feel a little weird in Sonny’s presence. Joe thought too hard sometimes, about Sonny. Some of them about him and Sonny. Like. Together.
Normally those thoughts didn’t end well.
“Are you alright?” Sonny slowed his gait; matched Joe’s pace. As Sonny directed them down a left turn, he scrutinized Joe’s face. “Do you want me to give you the historical spiel?”
Oh yeah. Sonny the tour guide. Joe was still emotionally compromised about that.
“No,” Joe blurted. “Er… You’re not just a guide.” Sonny opened his mouth. Joe rushed on, “You’re like… my, uh, my buddy.”
Sonny smirked. “Your buddy?”
Joe kicked himself. Stupid thing to say! “Yes, we’re cool. You’re a dude, I’m a dude, we hang out on cases…” Sonny stopped them right in the middle of the path. Joe turned to face him. “What are you…” Sonny was leaning closer… closer… Looming over Joe like this, seemed even taller than he was. Joe’s heart kicked into severe overdrive.
“I’m glad we’ve reached this point.” It’s not like they were trying to hide from a villain, so why was Sonny speaking that quietly? Oh man. Joe tried really, really hard to not sneak a peek at Sonny’s lips as he spoke.
“Uh…” Was he getting closer? Joe was going to die; Joe was going t—
“AAAUUUUGH!” A scream shredded through the silence. Sonny stepped back and bolted towards the sound. Joe tore after him, feet pounding on the dirt and pulse roaring in his ears, as Sonny navigated the maze like a pro. Should he be relieved or disappointed? Was that what Joe thought it was?
Sonny halted and Joe lumbered up to stand beside him, close but not too close. The path widened, here, several paths converging and forming a larger circle. There was even a bench beside a small pillar in the corner. But that wasn’t the extent of the clearing; items were littered in a mess across the ground. Sonny crouched to get a closer look; Joe moved kind of awkwardly around him to examine them as well—they were clues, right? They had to be! (Sonny couldn’t have leaned away from him for nothing. Joe refused to believe the universe to be so cruel.)
Joe took a picture of the scene. First and foremost, a bag made of soft brown material, about a foot and a half wide and a foot tall, a zipper at the top and three pockets in the front. Joe gingerly picked it up. Inside was an empty wallet, in bright red faux leather. He dug out a black tube of eyeliner, a substantial amount of money, and a forest green scarf.
“Hey.” Joe shoved everything back into the bag and slung it over his shoulder and he walked the four steps it took to be at Sonny’s side. “Check this out.” He pointed to the ground, at five strips of white dust streaked across the dirt. Joe took a picture. “Cosmetic maybe?” Sonny asked. He held his hands out to Joe. A black flower clip, also dusty, and a lacy black glove, rested on his palms. “All of these clues, Detective!” Sonny gave him a tiny smile.
“Fantastic!” Joe said. Sonny took his black things and placed them carefully in the bag at Joe’s hip. Okay. That was happening.
“We should celebrate,” Sonny said, doing a complete 180 and yanking Joe along by the strap of the evidence bag.
“Celebrate?” Joe replied. He couldn’t find it in him to resist Sonny’s pull. “It’s too early in the mystery to celebrate,” he muttered. Sonny snickered. “This is where things are shaping up to be great and then they start to go wrong.”
“All the more reason.” Sonny glanced back to him, pink frames flashing in Joe’s vision and basically stunning him.
“Fine.” Joe let Sonny haul him out of the maze like a dog dragging its owner. They emerged onto midtown, the maze’s end. Sonny didn’t even break his stride. They rushed down the street, earning them a few weird stares and several guffaws until they reached a little café. It was painted in a bright white, with a rustic charm to it that made Joe homesick for his Aunt Gertrude’s old house in Bayport.
Sonny deposited Joe on a bench against the front of the café.
“I’ll be right back,” Sonny told him. He was hovering over Joe again. “Don’t move.” Sonny turned and entered the café.
“Yeah, okay.” Joe shook himself. An old lady on another bench a few yards away was giving Joe a predatory stare that he didn’t appreciate nor desire.
Joe didn’t know what was going on today. Or what Sonny could be buying him. Or them. What if it was a ‘them’ thing? What would he do then? Would they share it? What if it wasn’t? Would Sonny bring him a coffee that spelled ‘no homo’ in cream on top?
The lady at the other bench was increasingly invested as Joe fidgeted and fiddled with the bag of clues and swiped through the pictures on his phone. Don’t think, don’t think… Oh, check out this picture of Frank and Joe on the plane…. Here was one of Frank and Nancy’s hello hug… Here was a selfie of himself and Nancy…
The old lady was mustering herself up to say something to him, Joe could feel it.
Luckily, Sonny came to his rescue.
With barely a greeting, Sonny just gave Joe a smoothie and sat beside him. Maybe a little too close. Sonny might just be a touchy person. Who knew? Joe didn’t know.
Joe tried his smoothie.
“Like it?”
“Peach-mango? How did you know?”
Sonny snorted, but his shoulders were slumping, his posture fading, his body wilting. He probably exerted too much energy for the amount of rest Sonny appeared to get. “I got pomegranate-raspberry.”
“Oooooh, gimme!” Joe did that really embarrassing thing where he made grabby hands. But Sonny did that embarrassing thing where he gave Joe what he wanted. Joe tasted Sonny’s weird smoothie and it didn’t suck. “This is a nice celebration.”
Sonny agreed. Sonny yawned. Sonny yawned and his arms went up and stretched to rest on the top of the bench. His fingers were this close to being behind Joe’s neck. Did Sonny just…
Sonny’s head was tilting forward, lips parting slightly. Joe took his smoothie and rested it on the bench between them as Sonny nearly fell asleep.
Joe took another sample of his smoothie. “I’ll pay you back,” he said to Sonny’s neck.
“Don’t bother.” Sonny jolted himself up and out of it. “I just need a Krolmeister Energy.” His arm slowly retreated. Joe held his breath. “And you’re welcome.”
Joe colored. “Thank you.”
/// And 1
Joe paced back and forth across the castle ballroom. Frank lounged on the replica throne. Because that’s Frank for you.
Joe loved his brother.
Neither had spoken in like ten minutes. They’d seen an artifact that had freaked both of them out. Normally that didn’t happen. Normally they didn’t book it out of there, either. So team morale was down.
The afternoon light leaked through the windows. Joe threw open the drapes to let more in.
The thing about that artifact, though… it was big, too big to pick up or send to someone who knew more than they did, and it was so dark in the crawl space it lived in that just taking a decent photo was a pain. It was made of a metallic material, shaped like some kind of demon, with sharp ivory teeth and some kind of blue gemstones for eyes. And there’d been a loud noise, and there was thunder and Chad, the owner of the place had been with them and he’d shrieked, and it was just a very bad situation.
So who you gonna call?
“Alexei?” Joe suggested.
“You think that guy’s gonna agree to fly out here for someone other than the world’s greatest detective herself?” Frank responded before Joe even got the end of the word out. He dragged his hands down his face and evidently reached a conclusion. “Alright, do it.”
“Do what?” Joe barely dared to hope what Frank was saying, which was stupid, because Frank wouldn’t tell him to-
“Call Sonny!” Frank slammed his hands against his thighs. “I know you want to!”
Joe’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “What makes you say that?”
“Because he asked me about your favorite smoothie, Joe. And you’re obsessed with him. I’ve seen the pictures you’ve taken-”
“Hey!” Joe cried hotly. “I am not a creeper- Wait, smoothie?”
“-desperate to get him into the frame. Yes. You lose your mind around him. Every case we go through with him around takes twice as long to solve because that mind of yours is so tuned in to him that you can’t think about anything else!”
“Excuse you,” Joe stuttered. “My mind is sharp as a tack-”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been carrying around in your suitcase-”
“How could you even know-”
“I’m okay with you being with him, I know that you aren’t straight, if that’s why we never talked about it-”
Joe was turning bright red; he could feel it. He climbed up the platform that the throne sat on and took the queen’s throne beside the king’s. “He’s… I’m not sure…” Frank waited for Joe to finish. “I’ve flirted with guys before, all the time, but I didn’t think you knew.”
Frank leaned over to nudge Joe’s shoulder. “I can tell the difference between faking it and having the real thing.” Frank shuddered. “I mean, that time with Big Island Mike. That was fake. Or I hope so. Let’s not talk about this. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
“I’m down with that.” Joe was prepared to burst into hysterical giggles. He took a few deep breaths. “Do you think Dad…?”
“Dad won’t care.” Frank rolled his eyes. “Dad doesn’t care. He and Mom asked me if I was gay sophomore year and assured me it was all okay if I was. The one you really have to worry about is…”
“Aunt Gertrude,” they said together. Their father’s sister, Aunt Gertrude was a traditional woman, who was very stern, very opinionated, and very scary. However, she always came through for them in the end.
“But Sonny is a charmer,” Frank finished.
Joe turned that over in his head. “A charmer?”
“You probably didn’t notice,” Frank lamented. “You were the cobra and he was the snake-charmer.”
“Weak.”
“Call him.”
Joe’s phone was in his hand, he was dialing, the phone was ringing, Sonny was answering, oh no, Sonny was answering…
“Hey, Detective? Hello? You there?” Sonny… was Sonny purring?
“Hey Sonny.” Joe gaped wide-eyed at Frank, who nodded encouragingly and made little shooing motions. “We have a situation. Are you available in the next few days?”
“What’s this about, Detective?” If Sonny had sounded lazy before he was concerned now.
“Just a case.” Joe squeezed his eyes shut. “We could really use your help.”
“Tell me about it,” Sonny commanded.
Joe did, and it didn’t take a lot of convincing for Sonny to commit to flying down the next day. Apparently Joe made Sonny as weak as Sonny made him. Or that could be wishful thinking.
“You’ll be fine,” Frank told him.
Frank told him that all night, and through the morning, and when Sonny arrived and drove out to greet them, and after they left Sonny to settle into his room in the castle. Chad hadn’t seemed too thrilled at another person “screwing around in his castle,” let alone one with “wild hair and manic eyes,” but then, Chad didn’t seem to like anything ever.
Joe was just glad he could get Sonny near a bed once he saw the bags under Sonny’s eyes.
“Tell him tomorrow,” Frank told Joe when they parted ways for the night. Joe felt the air dissipate out of his lungs. “Maybe you should wait until the afternoon,” Frank supplied. Then he slapped Joe on the back and sent him to bed.
Joe went over everything in his head, over and over, trying his hardest to not psych himself out, remembering every moment with Sonny and keeping that in the back of his mind.
Sonny clambered out of his room at noon the next day. Joe waited for him at the kitchen table for four hours, half-reading a history book on their castle of horrors. Seeing Sonny rumpled was kind of incredible. He looked vulnerable and honestly kind of adorable.
“Good morning,” Joe greeted him. One of the other residents of the castle was eating her toast at the breakfast bar, but he could ignore her.
Sonny muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “where’s the coffee” and dug through the pantry until he turned up a box of KoKo Krispies. Joe sat and watched him excavate the fridge until he found a can of Krolmeister Energy hidden behind the cottage cheese. And then Sonny turned right around and placed himself directly beside Joe at the table, as close as their two chairs would allow. “Hm.” Sonny opened the box and pulled the cereal right out of the box to shovel into his mouth.
Joe shook his head. A cereal version of a candy bar was not a healthy nor logical breakfast choice.
“How’d you sleep?” Joe asked in an undertone.
“Sleep?” Sonny swallowed his mouthful. He hummed. “Okay.”
“Alright,” Joe said slowly. Sonny’s eyes were bleary. “When will you be ready to check out our artifact?”
Sonny tapped his Krolmeister Energy once, twice, for emphasis. “Needs to kick in.”
Sometimes Joe was concerned about everyone around him. “Alright.” Joe pretended to return to his book and waited for Sonny to wake himself up.
Sonny saw their monster statue two hours later and rattled off about its origin and materials, citing his work in a museum and how this was obviously this form of ancient architecture transported here by some wealthy lord or lady who knew their stuff, hundreds of years or so ago. He pointed out details on the paint or in the sculpting and explained how to find more information on them. Frank nodded and took notes. Joe resisted the urge to take pictures. Frank fired questions as though this would be his only chance to ask them. They took it into the library when Frank’s questions stopped being directly related to the statue because they were tired of standing around squinting at each other in the dark. The library was bigger, and sort of dusty, and definitely well-lit with big windows and everything.
Finally, finally, Frank took his notes and fled to interrogate suspects. Subtly. Subtly interrogate suspects. Go Frank.
Sonny was on one of those soft library chairs, chin in hand, staring at the rows and rows of books. He wore a harmless button-down, maybe one too many buttons popped, blue jeans that made Joe double take, and clunky black tennis shoes (?). His hair was purple and blue, with frosted tips. “Hey,” Joe said when he’d found the willpower to stop gawking like a creeper. He resisted the urge to whisper the word, because who were they going to disturb? It was just the two of them. Sonny looked at him. “Stay right here, okay?” Sonny raised his eyebrows, then nodded in agreement, eyes growing glassy and far away once again.
Joe hopped off of his couch and scurried up the stairs to his bedroom, pulling out his present from his suitcase. He couldn’t resist running his fingers over the corners, finding the imperfections in the packaging and feeling shame for it. When he couldn’t waste any more time, Joe rushed back down the stairs and navigated the hallways and managed to find Sonny in the library once again.
“Hey.” Sonny looked more awake now, nose buried in a book with an alien on the cover. He grinned at Joe when he looked up. “What’s that?”
Joe held it out to him wordlessly.
Sonny took the little box, touched its sides with his lovely fingers. Joe was going to die.
“Herbal tea?” Sonny said finally.
“To help you sleep,” Joe muttered. His cheeks were turning a dull red. He could feel it. “You always look so exhausted when I see you. I just want to wrap you up and put you to bed.”
Sonny’s face was unreadable. “How long have you had this?”
“A few months.”
Sonny scrambled to his feet, herbal tea forgotten on the dusty library chair. “You lugged that around for months so you could tell me to get some sleep?” Sonny was in his space, Sonny’s arms were up, Sonny’s arms came around him- “I didn’t know you cared that much.” Sonny smelled like sparkles and cherries. Sparkle cherries?
Joe’s hands pawed at Sonny’s waist. He looked up into Sonny’s eyes, framed by purple glasses and gleaming their lovely rich brown. “Yeah,” Joe managed. He could barely believe it, Sonny Joon, right now, in his arms- “Is it okay if I…?”
“Yes.” Sonny flipped his hair, smirking, and that was it.
Joe paused, licking his lips, and surged up to meet Sonny’s. They were soft, and warm, and they moved gently against his own. He tasted like cherry and chocolate. Joe was emotionally compromised. His eyes flittered shut, his heart pounded like that time he’d chased dognappers on foot for five miles, he wasn’t quite sure how he was still standing in a library in a castle in the middle of a villa with an otherworldly man pressed against him.
But it’s not like he could complain. Or wanted to.
“Mmm.” Sonny mumbled, peeling his lips away. Joe tried not to move, or breathe, as one wrong move could shatter everything. No pressure. Joe’s hands tightened on Sonny’s waist of their own accord. “Thank you, Detective.” Sonny’s long eyelashes and blown-wide pupils greeted Joe when he gathered the courage to open his eyes. Sonny was smiling, and that’s what broke the dam for Joe. Joe’s lips split into a smile all on their own, and Joe should probably be embarrassed for the rush he felt right now, how he wanted to collapse into Sonny’s side and lie there for forever. He solved the problem by closing his eyes and resting his head on Sonny’s shoulder.
“You’re welcome,” Joe belatedly replied, muffled in the fabric of Sonny’s shirt. Sonny pulled him away, nudged his face up so their gazes met again. Sonny took Joe’s hand. Joe couldn’t believe the view as Sonny pulled him towards the couch. His super white hand, blunt nails and smooth palms, and Sonny’s tan fingers, rounded and polished and his thumbnails painted to fade from purple to blue, tangled together in a mesh of skin.
Oh, Joe was in deep.
Sonny sprawled out on the couch and tugged Joe down to lay half on top of him. Joe’s head ended up on Sonny’s chest, his left leg slung over Sonny’s right, Sonny’s right arm slung over Joe’s body and curling at his ribs.
Joe inhaled. Sparkles and cherries and sunshine. Joe listened to Sonny’s heartbeat, faster than normal, beating as quickly as Joe’s own.
“I’m half in love with you,” Joe said. He pulled back so his head lay on Sonny’s shoulder instead.
“I could fall asleep with you.” Sonny rested his head on top of Joe’s. “I have trouble sleeping.”
“I know. We could work on that.”
“I’m pretty close to falling in love with you, too.”
“Good.” Joe craned his neck to peck the soft skin right under Sonny’s ear. Joe felt Sonny’s full-body shudder.
“Not yet,” Sonny muttered, nuzzling Joe’s hair, which felt so good that Joe went limp against him. “I don’t think your brother or the owner would appreciate walking in on us pantsless.”
“Probably.” Joe exhaled slowly. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
“No.”
“Let’s start with that.” Joe shut his eyes. “Just nap with me.”
“That I can do.” Sonny’s sigh was full of fondness and contentment, and Joe was stupidly proud that he somehow managed to make Sonny feel that way.
He hoped he could make Sonny feel that way forever.