Benedict was completely out of breath when he reached Isaac's apartment. He hesitated before entering the building. On the one hand, his mind felt completely empty, and yet at the same time it was so overwhelmingly full that it weighed him down.
He wanted nothing more than to turn around again, ignore his gut feeling, and simply go home.
But he knew he couldn't.
He was afraid of what awaited him behind that door. The mere thought of who Isaac might really be made his stomach clench. And even worse was the idea of what would happen if his gut feeling turned out to be right.
There were basically only two possibilities.
Either Isaac had suffered a gunshot wound to the thigh and would turn out to be Moonshadow. At least that would mean one phantom thief had been caught, though Ink Phantom would still be at large.
Of course, there would be advantages to arresting Isaac as Moonshadow. For example, he could continue working on the murder case of his fiancé, and with a bit of luck Ink Phantom might not continue operating without his bright counterpart, and the thefts would come to an end. The phantom thief case would be closed, and he would have one less worry.
Even if that meant the man he had fallen in love with turned out to be a criminal.
However, there was also the possibility that Isaac wasn't injured at all and had simply not looked at his phone because he was busy.
In that case, they would of course still have to try to catch the real phantom thieves.
Benedict realized that he liked scenario two far better than the first.
Now that just had to be exactly what happened, and his gut feeling could finally quiet down.
He stepped into the elevator and rode up to the top floor where Isaac lived. He forced himself to stay calm, which was far from easy. He could hardly wait to prove his suspicion wrong. He didn't want his fear to come true.
Easy, Ben… you're not here to arrest him, just to check on him.
Yet the pistol in his holster felt heavy.
The doors opened with a soft hiss.
Benedict walked slowly down the hallway until he stood in front of Isaac's door. His footsteps echoed softly across the floor. He raised his hand, but his finger stopped just short of the doorbell. His hand trembled slightly. A thin sheen of sweat formed on his forehead.
What if Isaac really was Moonshadow?
What was he supposed to do then?
Fight him, the way he had done in the museum? Shoot him so that it never even came to a fight? Take the risk of possibly killing him?
All of that stood in stark contrast to the feelings he had for Isaac.
He was still in love with him. Whenever he saw him, his heart immediately beat a little faster. Even though he was still somewhat embarrassed about the way he had behaved at times.
But that didn't matter.
If Isaac really was Moonshadow, Benedict would arrest him.
Being in love was, in the end, only a feeling—and he was a police officer. His duty came first.
However, he would only find out what awaited him if he finally pressed that damn doorbell. Benedict swallowed down his anxiety and raised his hand. For a moment his finger hovered in the air, as if even that small movement might change everything irrevocably. Then he finally pressed the button.
A soft ringing sounded from behind the door.
Then he waited.
The seconds seemed to stretch on endlessly, and time was suddenly no longer what it had once been. He knew it was the tension and impatience that made seconds feel like minutes.
He rang the bell again.
"Yeah, yeah, one moment!" came an annoyed voice from behind the door.
Benedict's heart skipped a beat.
A moment later the lock clicked open, and the front door of Isaac's apartment swung inward. But instead of Isaac, someone else suddenly stood before him.
Noctis.
Benedict blinked in confusion. The man was wearing tight black pants with the top button undone. The fabric hung loosely on his hips, as if he had pulled them on in a hurry. He didn't seem to be wearing any underwear. On top of that, he also wasn't wearing a shirt.
His skin was slightly flushed, as if he had just taken a shower—or done something entirely different. His dark hair still looked a little damp and lay messily against the back of his neck.
Inevitably, Benedict's gaze drifted downward.
The fabric of the jeans was stretched clearly over Noctis's crotch.
Benedict froze.
Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine.
What kind of situation had he just walked into?
A smug grin spread across Noctis's lips, as if he had noticed exactly where Benedict's gaze had gone. Benedict hated that expression. That self-satisfied, provocative smile was so typical of him.
"Oh? And who do we have here?" Noctis asked, raising an eyebrow.
For a brief moment, an unpleasant thought shot through Benedict's mind. Had he taken too long? Should he have confessed his feelings to Isaac earlier? Damn it—just the sight of this guy made him angry.
Benedict took a slow breath in and out, forcing himself to get his thoughts under control. That wasn't why he was here.
He had a suspicion—and to confirm it, he needed to see Isaac.
"Noctis, right?" he began at last. He tried to keep his tone calm, but his voice came out more like a suppressed growl. "I need to speak with Isaac."
Noctis slowly crossed his arms over his chest, as if deliberately taking his time.
"Oh? I'm really sorry, but Isaac doesn't have time for you," he said, amused. His apology didn't sound like one at all—it sounded more like an attack. His grin turned cheeky, and Benedict could practically see the malicious joy on his face. "Unfortunately, he's a bit busy with me right now, if you know what I mean."
The jealousy hit Benedict like a punch to the gut. It rose bitterly up his throat. Unconsciously, he clenched his hand into a fist.
"Cut the stupid jokes," he hissed, irritated. "I just need to talk to him for a moment. That's all."
The man's golden eyes stared at him challengingly.
"Oh yeah? Official business?" he asked calmly. Then he leaned in slightly. "Or do you want to join in?"
"What?!" Benedict jerked back in surprise. He definitely had no intention of sharing anything intimate with this man. "No, damn it!" His patience was visibly starting to crack. "Just let me see him for a second."
Noctis studied him for another moment, then suddenly broke into an amused laugh.
Finally, he stepped aside and opened the door wider.
"Alright," he said, gesturing invitingly. "Come in."
His grin returned immediately.
"But you'd better not stay long," he added. "We've still got a few things planned."
He winked.
"If you know what I mean."
Unfortunately, Benedict could all too easily imagine what Noctis had planned with Isaac. Even if he didn't want to, the images crept into his mind and stubbornly refused to leave.
He pushed past Noctis and stepped into the hallway of Isaac's apartment. For a brief moment, he stumbled, as if he had walked through something. But there was nothing there. Maybe he had rushed over here a bit too quickly and exhausted himself more than intended. At least the sweat under his arms suggested as much.
"You okay?" Noctis asked behind him in a bored tone.
As quickly as the brief dizziness had come, it disappeared again. Benedict deliberately ignored the question and kept walking. His steps led him straight into the living room. And there, he stopped abruptly.
Isaac was lying on the couch. As naked as the day he was born.
His skin was slightly flushed, as if it still held the warmth of intense touches. Strands of his damp hair clung to his forehead, and his breathing was still a little unsteady, as though he had only just recovered from physical exertion.
There was such a charged, intimate expression in his eyes that Benedict reacted involuntarily.
His gaze drifted further.
On the coffee table lay several condom wrappers and a half-open bottle of lubricant. Two of the wrappers were already torn open and empty.
Even a blind man could have recognized what had just happened here. But instead of clarity, the sight only stirred even more turmoil in Benedict's thoughts. The jealousy he had already felt at the door now tightened into a bitter knot in his chest.
Isaac tilted his head slightly, as if he had only just properly registered the sound in the room. But the moment his eyes met Benedict's, they widened.
Immediately, he grabbed the blanket draped over the back of the couch and hastily pulled it over himself. The fabric covered his lap and part of his torso. However, he hadn't been quick enough.
Benedict had already caught a very clear glimpse of his long, well-shaped thighs. And that was exactly where his gaze lingered for a moment.
There wasn't a single wound on them. Benedict could hardly believe his eyes.
So Isaac wasn't Moonshadow after all? Had he really just taken some spontaneous time off?
Had his suspicion been completely wrong?
The realization hit him so suddenly that his knees almost gave way. Part of the tension that had been weighing on him for hours dropped off him all at once.
The relief was almost overwhelming.
"Benedict?!" Isaac's voice sounded startled and rough, as if he had only just found it again. "W-what are you doing here?!"
Benedict swallowed and counted to ten in his head before answering.
An unpleasant thought pushed its way to the forefront. Had he misunderstood everything? Every glance, every smile, every small gesture? Maybe he had just imagined it all.
The thought made his stomach tighten uncomfortably.
"I… wanted to check on you," Benedict said at last, slowly. His own voice sounded strangely unfamiliar to him. "You weren't at work… and in the alley next to the café…" He hesitated briefly. "I got worried."
Isaac let out an audible breath. It sounded annoyed.
"And then you just come here?" he asked. His gaze cooled noticeably. He pulled the blanket up a little higher, as if it were not only covering him but also creating emotional distance. "As you can see, I'm fine."
"Yeah…" Benedict nodded slightly. His gaze slipped unintentionally over Isaac's body once more before he quickly looked away. "I can see that."
He cleared his throat softly.
"You… look more than healthy."
Uneasily, he rubbed the back of his neck.
Isaac rolled his eyes. "Of course I look healthy. What exactly were you expecting?" he scoffed.
"Sorry," Benedict muttered, a bit embarrassed. "You didn't respond to any of my messages."
Isaac's gaze suddenly shifted past Benedict.
"Noc."
His voice now sounded noticeably sharper. By this point, Noctis had stepped right up beside Benedict without him even noticing. Isaac's red eyes narrowed slightly, and at the same time, his cheeks darkened a little.
"Why are you just letting him in?" he asked reproachfully. "Even though we were just—"
He broke off, clearly frustrated with the situation.
Beside Benedict, an amused chuckle sounded. Noctis didn't seem the least bit affected.
"Forgive me, darling," Noctis said softly, stepping closer to Isaac. With smooth ease, he sank to his knees in front of him, took his hand, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "He simply wouldn't be turned away."
"Still… you could've just ignored the doorbell," Isaac murmured, though his voice was already losing firmness.
"I intended to," Noctis replied with a crooked smile as his lips slowly moved toward Isaac's neck. "But eventually the noise annoyed me more than anything else. It completely drowned out the sweet sounds you were making."
A quiet, barely suppressed moan escaped Isaac.
"Then you could've just sent him away…," he breathed, offering no real resistance.
Benedict stood frozen, unable to tear his gaze away. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. Isaac was… just not like that. He would never have taken him for someone so openly expressive about his sexuality—especially not when someone else was watching.
The Isaac in his mind didn't wrap his leg so lasciviously around someone and pull them closer.
Or… did he?
Hadn't he always imagined the way Isaac looked at him? How he gave him bittersweet commands in that cool voice? And how much he would enjoy taking control?
Benedict's thoughts began to spiral.
How often had he imagined giving him exactly what he demanded?
Damn it—where were these thoughts suddenly coming from?
He could practically see it in front of him. The image only grew stronger as he heard Isaac's moans, those bittersweet sighs that drove another knife into his heart each time.
Something in his chest tightened painfully.
Benedict couldn't take it anymore.
He had to get out of here.
The air was thick with desire, and he felt like he could no longer breathe.
"Noctis…," Isaac breathed. "I want you."
"Right away, darling," Noctis purred. Then he turned to Benedict. "Get out. There's no place for you here."
His voice was cold and commanding. His gaze dismissive.
Isaac didn't even spare him a glance.
What am I even doing here…?
Benedict grew dizzy. Nausea crept up inside him as the heat of the room became unbearable.
"Sorry…," he muttered tonelessly.
Then he turned and stumbled out of the apartment.
Only when he reached the hallway did he feel his head begin to clear again. He couldn't put into words what he had just experienced in there. It felt surreal—like a truly awful nightmare.
Stressed, he ran a hand through his hair and then struck the wall with a muffled curse.
How was he ever supposed to face Isaac normally again—after suspecting him and then interrupting him during sex?
Those images would never leave his mind.
It felt as though his heart had been torn from his chest, and only now did he realize that he had never even been close enough to Isaac to call him his own. He could never have expected a harsher rejection.
So why did he want nothing more than to go back into that apartment and accept the offer Noctis had made earlier?
Benedict grimaced.
His feelings were so tangled that he could no longer tell what he truly wanted.
He took a deep breath and decided to go home.