Zane drew a deep, quiet breath as he gripped Ty’s hips and pulled back, starting with slow thrusts. Ty closed his eyes and bit his hand harder, telling himself not to moan as Zane moved inside him. But it was difficult to keep quiet when Zane was sliding into him with slow, deep thrusts. It wouldn’t stay slow and sensual like this for long; it never did with them, no matter who took the lead or how determined they both were to make it last.

Zane’s hand slid up his back until he was gripping Ty’s shoulder, his fingers digging into Ty’s skin. The blanket beneath Ty’s hands began to slide, and Ty went with it, the weight of Zane’s body on top of him stretching him and the blanket out on the floor. When Ty was flat on the floor, Zane shifted to plant his knees outside of Ty’s. He pushed down on the backs of Ty’s shoulders as he worked up to a steady, heated rhythm that would please them both sooner rather than later.

Ty found himself pinned flat to the floor, with Zane using his knees and shoulders for leverage as he fucked him. He gasped wordlessly against the blanket under him, liking the overpowering weight of Zane’s body on him. Zane snapped his hips down, hard, and Ty had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. He bent his knees and lifted his feet, pushing his heels against Zane’s ass to urge him on. Zane grunted quietly before lowering himself to hold Ty closer and speed his thrusts.

The sound of their bodies slapping together was loud in the otherwise silent room, and Zane slowed his thrusts again, grunting in Ty’s ear. “Not much longer,” he warned breathlessly.

Ty responded to his warning by tensing around the hard cock inside him, and he reached back to drag his short fingernails across the naked skin of Zane’s hip. Zane grunted and trembled with restraint as he continued. Ty panted heavily against the blankets under him as his body tightened. He wouldn’t last much longer either. He never did with Zane’s cock inside him.

Zane bit the back of his shoulder, hard, and Ty grit his teeth against the shout of pleasure it almost produced. Zane pushed off him again, his hands on Ty’s shoulders as he pounded his cock past the tight ring of muscle, heedless of the sound their bodies made as they met or of the fact that Ty’s groans were steadily gaining in volume. It felt like his cock drove deeper and deeper, his grunts of exertion and pleasure in Ty’s ears, until Ty could do nothing but whimper helplessly as his body convulsed. His fingers dug into Zane’s hip, and he writhed beneath his lover as he spilled himself against the blanket.

After a few more hard thrusts, Zane froze in place and his grip tightened, his whole body locked in the fight between climax and silence, shuddering. He rocked into Ty a few more times before he finally relaxed and rested his head against Ty’s back, breathing hard and trembling.

“Good job,” Ty finally offered in a hoarse voice. Zane groaned softly before pulling free with a plaintive gasp. He lowered himself carefully to the floor beside Ty. Ty rolled onto his back, letting his body stretch out, investigating the aches. No matter how ready he was for it, Zane’s cock inside him always left aches. That was part of the fun. “I would have bet money we couldn’t be quiet,” he whispered as he stared at the ceiling.

Zane smiled at him and shook his head. “Always glad to prove you wrong,” he said.

Ty turned his head to look at him and laughed suddenly. “You wound up on the floor after all,” he observed with a snicker.

“Funny guy,” Zane grunted before climbing to his feet and offering Ty a hand.

Ty stared at him from where he lay flat on his back. Sometimes he wondered if Zane just tolerated him because he was a good lay, or if he truly enjoyed being around him as much as Ty did Zane. He told himself that was another question for a later time. Finally, he reached up and took Zane’s hand, pulling himself to his feet. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Lacing their hands together, Zane leaned to kiss him, just for a moment. He squeezed Ty’s hands and nodded before loosening his grip. Ty sniffed daintily at the tender gesture as he turned away and bent to gather the clothing he’d shed. Well, maybe Zane did enjoy it a little.

As Zane grabbed his shirt and used it for a quick clean before pulling his briefs on, Ty pulled his pants on haphazardly and headed for the bathroom to do a slightly better job of cleaning himself. When he returned, Zane was gathering up the extra covers and tossing them on the bed. Ty watched him with a smirk as he slid his T-shirt over his head. “Might want to flush that instead of tossing it in the trash,” he said with a nod at Zane and the condom he had yet to discard. “Ma’ll be wondering what we were doing when she empties the trashcans,” he joked quietly.

“You think?” Zane muttered. He left the room quietly as Ty straightened out the sheets and blankets left askew from their fun.

“Fucker,” Ty grumbled affectionately as he made up the bed. He knew he might never explain to himself the emotions Zane caused in him. He didn’t mind the mystery. It was another part of what made it fun. What he did mind was the uneasy feeling that Zane merely tolerated him rather than enjoyed him. Again, he told himself to worry about that later—much later—and he climbed into bed.

When Zane returned, he slipped under the covers beside Ty and immediately wrapped around him, pulling Ty closer just as he would the pillows he liked to hold. With a sigh, Ty pondered over the question of whether his doubts were unfounded or if Zane was just a cuddler. They hadn’t had a lot of time to feel each other out. As partners, it seemed like they could read each other’s minds. But as lovers—or even friends—they barely knew each other at all.

He sighed and scooted closer, twisting his body so he could brush an awkward kiss against Zane’s cheek. “Sleep well, Zane,” he offered quietly as he settled into the embrace. He closed his eyes and sighed again. Zane slept much better with Ty alongside him than he did when he was alone, and they both knew it.

“I will,” Zane murmured, his breath warm against the back of Ty’s ear.

BY THE time Zane got down to the kitchen the next morning, breakfast was on the table, and Ty and Deuce were sitting together, drinking orange juice while their mother bustled around them and scolded them for stealing some of her apples.

“Morning,” Ty greeted as he gestured to an empty chair.

“Good morning, Zane dear, how did you sleep?” Mara asked as she came up to him and pressed a glass of orange juice into his hands.

“Ah, okay,” Zane hedged, taking the glass out of self-defense. “I don’t do too well sleeping in strange places lately, but….”

“Well, Ty’s bed is about as strange a place as you can get,” Deuce offered under his breath. He followed it with a muffled grunt as Ty kicked him under the table.

“Don’t mind them, we dropped ’em both on their heads when they was little,” Mara assured Zane as she moved back to her stove, where two different skillets sizzled. She’d been cooking for some time already; the kitchen was warm from the heated oven, and it was the smell of crisp bacon and fresh biscuits that had beckoned Zane downstairs.

Zane turned a look on the two brothers, his eyes narrowing slightly. Under the brown Western-style flannel shirt Ty wore, Zane was pleased to see that he was also wearing another one of his signature Tshirts. It was oddly reassuring to see it. It was brown with white writing on the front, two crossed paddles advertising “Schitt Creek Paddle Co.” Zane didn’t bother to hide his amused snort, but the others paid him no mind.

“Where’s your daddy?” Mara asked them as she sat at the head of the table.

“Wasn’t my morning to babysit him,” Ty answered as he poured himself more juice.

“Well, you and your smart mouth go find him so we can eat,” Mara responded without blinking an eye. Ty stood immediately, snatching a sausage link as he went. “And track down your granddaddy too!” his mother called after him.

Zane watched over the edge of his juice glass as Ty headed out of the kitchen, taking particular notice of the worn jeans that were molded to Ty’s ass as he moved around the corner.

“Zane, tell me,” Mara said, drawing his attention, “how do you enjoy working for the FBI?”

Surprised by the question out of left field, Zane hesitated as he pushed the visual of Ty away for later. “It’s like any job, I guess. I like it some days, others not so much. Ty makes it interesting sometimes.”

“My son does do that to people,” she agreed with a sigh as she sipped at her coffee. “Both of them do,” she added wryly as she glanced at Deuce, who looked at Mara with an obviously feigned hurt expression.

Zane chuckled and took a drink of his juice. “He makes up for it, though. He’s a good partner.”

“Is he?” Mara asked with true concern. Her brow furrowed, and she leaned forward, meeting his eyes questioningly.

Zane sighed and glanced at the door, weighing his options. Honesty and… honesty. “All right, he’s a great partner. But don’t tell him I said that.”

The relief that washed over the poor woman was tangible. “Ty’s ego was never one of the things I fretted over being broken,” she assured Zane. “But I was so afraid after Jimmy was killed he would never be able to deal with a partner again,” she explained as she looked down at her coffee and stirred it slowly.

“I don’t think it was easy for him,” Zane said slowly. Despite how they ragged on each other, he didn’t want to say anything that might be construed as badmouthing Ty in front of his family. Zane could imagine how angry he would be himself if the situation were reversed. He also knew that the Jimmy Mara referred to was Special Agent James Hathaway, who’d been partnered with Ty for more than two years before he was killed in the line of duty. It wasn’t a joking matter. “I won’t say we get along all the time, but we make it work,” Zane added.

“You handle him the right way,” Deuce interjected.

Mara nodded in agreement. “You have to give Ty as good as he gives you.”

“Yeah, and it’s not easy. He can be hard to handle sometimes,” Zane said vaguely rather than trying to make light of it.

“Try raising two of ’em,” Mara said wryly with another pointed look at Deuce.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Deuce said in annoyance.

Zane smiled just like Mara did. “Ty gets that look on his face, too, when he’s ticked off. Which is fairly often, so I’m familiar with the expression,” he added earnestly.

“Shut up,” Deuce offered grumpily as he reached for a sausage link, only to get his hand slapped by Mara’s spatula for the effort. He opened his mouth to protest, but a call from the front of the house interrupted him.

“Hey, Ma!” Ty yelled as the screen door slammed. Zane could hear his booted footsteps coming closer, and when Ty appeared in the doorway, he was frowning slightly. “Grandpa’s eyesight’s getting worse, huh?” he asked.

“What makes you say that?” Mara asked in concern.

“’Cause he’s out in the yard, killing your garden hose with his shovel,” Ty answered with a jerk of his thumb at the window.

Mara balled up her fists and made a strangled sound of frustration as she pushed her chair back noisily and stood. “That senile old goat!” she muttered as she hurried out the back door. Zane made it until she was out of the room, but then he had to laugh out loud, covering his mouth with his hand.

Neither Deuce nor Ty were laughing, though, both of them treating it as if it were an everyday thing. “How’s his aim?” Deuce asked Ty dubiously.

“Still pretty good,” Ty answered in a surprised voice as he went to the window to watch, leaning over the sink. “He still sharpens the shovel tip, doesn’t he?”

“As far as I know,” Deuce answered as he poured himself a cup of coffee, unconcerned.

Zane’s brows were nearly up into his hairline. Sharpens the shovel tip? Jesus. No wonder Ty had a penchant for weapons, growing up in this environment.

“Hey,” Ty said as he waved his hand around at them, still looking out the window. “Y’all gotta see this. She’s beating him with the hose,” he told them as he began to snicker. “God, I love coming home,” he mused as he sipped at his own juice. He made room when Deuce moved to stand next to him and peer outside.

Still laughing softly, Zane watched Ty closely, fascinated by the relaxation in his frame and the easy smile that curved his lips. What little tension that had been invested in him last night was gone. He was at ease with both himself and his surroundings, something Zane rarely observed in his partner. He was always alert and sort of twitchy when they were working or even when they were in Zane’s hotel room, as if he always had a sense of impending doom and wanted to be ready when it came.

Seeing this new side to him made Zane’s heart beat faster. He was just glad the two brothers were too busy watching Mara try to wrestle the shovel away from their grandfather to notice his intent focus.

“You boys just gonna stand there?” Earl Grady asked them in a stern voice from the doorway behind Zane.

Both Ty and Deuce jumped slightly—Zane did as well, actually, splashing a little juice onto his plate. He’d been so focused on Ty that he hadn’t even heard Earl approach.

“Go help her,” Earl ordered.

The brothers scrambled to set down their glasses without spilling the contents and get out the back door to do as they’d been told as quickly as possible.

Their father waited until the door had fallen shut behind them before he sat down at the kitchen table with Zane and smiled. “Morning, son,” he greeted nonchalantly as he poured himself a mug of coffee.