Chapter Eight
Two days.
It shouldn’t have been enough time for anything to change.
And yet everything had.
Keanu stood at the open side panel of his trailer, the night air rolling in off the ocean in slow, warm currents that carried salt and heat and the faint echo of waves breaking somewhere beyond the cliffs.
The compound had settled into its usual rhythm—quiet, controlled, alive in that low, constant way that came with people who never really switched off—but his world had narrowed to something far smaller.
The bus parked at a powered site about 150 meters away. And them. And whatever the hell had shifted between the three of them the moment Rangi had kissed him.
He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly as he stared out into the dark.
Two days of proximity. Two days of not touching—and somehow touching anyway. It had started small.
A glance that lingered too long.
A shoulder brushing his as they passed in the narrow corridor of the bus.
Rangi’s hand landing on his arm during a conversation and not moving straight away.
Alexios watching him—not openly, not aggressively—but with that sharp, assessing gaze that felt like it stripped him down to the bones and rebuilt him in real time.
It should have been uncomfortable. It wasn’t.
That was the problem.
Keanu shifted his weight, jaw tightening as he replayed it again—the moment in the bus, the kiss, the way Rangi had said it like it was obvious.
You’d be surprised by what Alexios wants.
He huffed out a quiet breath.
“Yeah,” he muttered to himself. “I would.”
Because none of this made sense. Rangi and Alexios weren’t casual. They weren’t uncertain.
They were solid—locked in a way that Keanu recognized on instinct. The kind of connection that didn’t fracture under pressure. The kind of bond men killed for.
So, where the hell did he fit into that?
He pushed off the frame of the trailer, stepping down onto the packed ground, boots hitting with a quiet thud, and sliding the door closed.
The lights from the compound cast long shadows across the space, catching on steel, glass, the edges of machines and structures that had been built for purpose, not comfort.
He headed toward the main building without really thinking about it.
Because there was only one person who was going to give him good advice.
Kael was exactly where Keanu expected him to be—inside the command center, standing in front of a bank of screens, arms folded as data rolled across them in steady streams. He didn’t look up when Keanu walked in.
“Thought you’d come find me,” Kael said.
Keanu snorted softly. “That obvious?”
Kael glanced at him then, one brow lifting slightly. “You’ve been scowling for two days.”
“I was not scowling.”
“You were.”
Keanu rolled his eyes, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the edge of a console.
“Something’s off,” he said finally.
Kael’s expression didn’t change. “With the intel?”
Keanu shook his head. “No. With them.”
That got Kael’s attention. “Rangi and Alexios?”
“Yeah.”
Kael was quiet for a second, studying him in that way he had—like he was already three steps ahead of whatever Keanu was trying to figure out.
“And?” he prompted.
Keanu exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair.
“I don’t get it,” he admitted. “They’re—” He gestured vaguely. “Solid. Together. That’s not ... loose. That’s not open.”
“And that means?”
“That means I shouldn’t be in the middle of it,” Keanu said flatly.
Kael’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “Shouldn’t?” he repeated.
Keanu frowned. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That thing where you answer a question with a question.”
Kael shrugged lightly. “Hey, you go with whatever works.”
Keanu pushed off the console, restless energy tightening under his skin.
“He kissed me,” he said, like that explained everything.
Kael nodded once. “I figured.”
Keanu blinked. “You figured?”
“You’ve been walking around like you got hit by a truck,” Kael said dryly. “Didn’t think it was from the mission.”
Keanu huffed a breath, dragging both hands over his face.
“He said I didn’t understand Alexios,” he went on. “That I’d be surprised by what he wants.”
Kael didn’t interrupt. Didn’t soften it. Just let him keep going.
“I thought...” Keanu hesitated, jaw tightening. “I thought they were—a closed circuit. That what they had didn’t leave room for anyone else.”
“And now?”
Keanu let out a slow breath. “Now I don’t know what the hell I’m looking at.”
Silence settled between them for a moment, broken only by the quiet hum of the systems around them.
Kael finally spoke. “You’re asking the wrong question.”
Keanu frowned. “Yeah? Then what’s the right one?”
Kael’s gaze held his, steady and unyielding. “What do you want?”
The words landed harder than anything else that had been said.
Keanu stilled.
Because that—that was the problem.
He didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t need to think about it.
“I want them,” he said quietly.
The honesty of it surprised even him.
No hesitation. No deflection. Just truth.
Kael nodded once, like that was the only answer that mattered.
“Then stop overthinking it,” he said.
Keanu let out a short, humorless laugh. “That’s it? That’s the advice?”
Kael’s expression didn’t shift. “You’re not a kid anymore, Keanu. You don’t need my or anyone else’s permission to go after what you want. You need clarity.”
Keanu’s jaw tightened. “And what if I’m wrong?”
“Then you deal with it,” Kael said simply. “But from what I’ve seen?” A beat. “You’re not.”
Keanu held his gaze for a second longer, something settling in his chest—heavy, certain, impossible to ignore.
Kael turned back to the screens, already moving on. “Figure it out before someone else makes the call for you.”
Keanu huffed a breath, but the tension had shifted now—sharpened into something focused. Intentional.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I will.”
The bus was quiet when he stepped inside.
Dim lighting. Low hum of systems. A space that felt lived in now. Occupied.
He could feel them before he saw them.
Rangi was in the main living area, leaning back against the counter, one hand braced behind him, the other wrapped loosely around a glass. His gaze lifted the moment Keanu stepped in—and there it was again.
That look. Not subtle. Not hidden.
Alexios was further back, seated, one arm still wrapped but no longer immobilized, his posture relaxed in a way that was anything but careless. His eyes tracked Keanu in silence, sharp and knowing.
Waiting.
Keanu closed the door behind him slowly, the sound quiet but final.
The air shifted. Something tightening. Something building.
Rangi’s mouth curved slightly. “Took you long enough.”
Keanu’s brow furrowed. “For what?”
Alexios leaned forward just slightly, gaze steady. “To decide,” he said.
Keanu went still.
And just like that—he knew. They’d been waiting for him. Not pushing. Not forcing. But waiting.
For him. For this.
Keanu exhaled slowly, something inside him settling into place with quiet, undeniable certainty.
He stepped forward. One step. Then another. Closing the distance between them.
“I think,” he said, voice low, steady, “I’m done trying to figure out what you meant.”
Rangi’s eyes darkened slightly. “Yeah?”
Keanu nodded once. “I’m going to find out.”
The words hung in the space between them.
Heavy.
Charged.
Inevitable.
And neither of them looked away.
Not this time.
****
Alexios had never believed in hesitation.
Not in the field. Not in a fight. And not in the things that really mattered.
Pain was still there—low, constant, threaded through his ribs and arm like a reminder his body wasn’t invincible—but it didn’t slow him. It sharpened him, forced everything else into clarity.
Including this. Keanu. Rangi.
The space between them that wasn’t empty anymore.
The bus held the night in close—warm air, dim lights, the faint hum of systems Keanu had wired himself. It smelled like steel and citrus cleaner and something softer underneath—salt, skin, the lingering trace of shared space. It felt ... inhabited. Claimed.
Alexios leaned back slightly in his chair, watching Keanu close the distance, cataloging every detail with the same precision he brought to everything else in his life.
Posture—tight but controlled.
Breathing—steady, but just a fraction deeper than baseline.
Eyes—locked, focused, no retreat.
Good.
He wasn’t running.
Alexios let the silence stretch, deliberate, giving the moment room to build instead of breaking it too early. Rangi shifted slightly beside him, not impatient—never that—but ready. Always ready.
That was the difference between them.
Rangi moved with instinct. Alexios moved with intent.
And Keanu...
Keanu was still figuring out which one he was going to follow.
Alexios pushed to his feet slowly, ignoring the pull through his side, the quiet protest of healing muscle. He didn’t rush it. Didn’t close the space all at once.
He let Keanu feel it.
Every step.
Every inch.
Until they were standing close enough that there was no mistaking what this was.
No room for misinterpretation.
Alexios held his gaze.
“You think this is about figuring it out?” he asked, voice low, even.
Keanu didn’t flinch. “I think it’s about not walking away this time.”
Something in Alexios’s chest tightened—approval, sharp and immediate.
“Good answer,” he said.
Rangi huffed a quiet laugh from behind them. “Told you he’d get there.”
Alexios didn’t look away from Keanu. “You did.”
Keanu’s jaw shifted slightly. “You’re both very sure of this.”
Alexios tipped his head, studying him more openly now. “We’ve had six years and two days to be sure,” he said. “You think we spent that time wondering?”
Rangi’s voice slid in, warm and certain. “We spent it waiting.”
“For me,” Keanu said.
“For you,” Rangi confirmed without hesitation. “Not to catch up. To choose.”
Alexios’s expression darkened, something more dangerous threading through the calm. “And to see if you’d choose us back.”
A beat.
Keanu’s breath shifted. “And if I didn’t?”
Rangi’s hand came up, not touching yet, hovering near Keanu’s side like a promise. “Then we would’ve let you walk,” he said softly. “We have never taken a third, never wanted to, we were what we were, and we were happy. Then we met you, and it was like-.”
“It was like we realized that something, someone was missing, that we weren’t whole,” Alexios added, quiet and absolute.
He stepped closer.
Close enough now that Keanu had to tilt his head slightly to maintain eye contact. Close enough that the heat between them wasn’t imagined anymore—it was real, tangible, unavoidable.
“You keep trying to place yourself outside of us,” Alexios continued, voice quiet but precise. “Like you’re something separate.”
Keanu’s brow furrowed slightly. “And I’m not?”
Alexios shook his head once. “No.”
The word landed between them with weight.
Final.
Rangi moved then, stepping into the space behind Keanu, close enough that his presence pressed in without quite touching. The shift was subtle—but intentional.
Keanu stilled.
Alexios saw the moment it hit him.
Not confusion. Not resistance. Understanding.
Then all at once.
“You really don’t get it,” Rangi murmured, voice low near Keanu’s ear. “We’re not choosing between anything.”
Alexios watched the words land.
Watched the way Keanu’s shoulders shifted—not tensing, not pulling away, but adjusting. Accommodating.
Accepting.
“We’re completing who we are,” Alexios finished.
Keanu exhaled slowly, the sound rougher now, less controlled. “And you’re sure that’s what he wants?” he asked, glancing slightly toward Rangi.
Rangi didn’t hesitate. “I know that’s what he wants.”
Alexios’s mouth curved faintly. “And I really want to fuck you.”
Keanu’s eyes flicked between them. “You always this direct?”
Rangi’s lips brushed a grin into his voice. “Only when it matters.”
Alexios didn’t soften. “And this matters.”
That did it.
Keanu’s control slipped—just a fraction.
Enough.
Alexios stepped in fully then, closing the last of the distance, one hand lifting—not fast, not forceful—just enough to give Keanu time to stop him if he wanted to.
He didn’t.
Alexios’s fingers brushed the side of his jaw, light at first, testing, reading.
Keanu didn’t pull back.
Didn’t question. He leaned into it. Choice made.
Alexios’s grip tightened slightly, thumb pressing just under his chin, tilting his head up a fraction.
“I was so fucking jealous when Rangi said he got to taste you,” he said quietly. “My turn.”
And kissed him.
Controlled.
Deliberate.
A claim made with precision instead of force. Keanu froze for half a heartbeat—then answered. Not tentative. Not unsure. He leaned in, meeting the kiss with a force that matched Alexios’s control with something hotter, something sharper.
Alexios heard Rangi’s breath leave him in a quiet exhale behind them.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’s what I was talking about.”
Alexios pulled back just enough to look at Keanu again, eyes darker now, focused.
“You still think you don’t belong here?” he asked.
Keanu’s answer was immediate. “No.”
Alexios nodded once. “Good.”
Rangi moved then—no hesitation, no pause—closing the final gap behind Keanu, one hand sliding around his waist, grounding, steady, possessive in a way that didn’t cage—it anchored. His other hand came up, finally touching, fingers spreading warm over Keanu’s chest as if testing the reality of him.
Keanu sucked in a sharp breath at the contact, muscles tightening under Rangi’s palm.
“Still sure?” Rangi asked softly against his ear.
Keanu’s voice came out rougher. “Yeah.”
“Say it,” Alexios said.
Keanu swallowed, eyes locked on Alexios’s. “I want this. I want you. Both of you.”
Something in Alexios settled—final, decisive. “Then we’re done asking.”
Rangi’s grip tightened slightly, his mouth brushing the side of Keanu’s neck, making him visibly shiver. “About damn time,” he breathed before he placed his mouth against Keanu’s pulse and sucked.
Keanu’s head tipped back instinctively, a low sound catching in his throat before he could stop it.
Alexios’s gaze dropped to his mouth, then lower, tracking the reactions, the shifts, the tells he knew how to read.
Rangi’s thumb stroked once over Keanu’s sternum, grounding, claiming. “God, you taste so damn good,” he murmured. “I want more.”
Alexios’s mouth curved—brief, dangerous. “Bedroom.”
One word. Not a suggestion. A direction.
And this time—none of them hesitated.