Operation 27 Newfound Peace
Syn
Syn had the sauce for his pasta simmering and permeating the house—garlic, onions, crushed tomatoes, basil, a little red pepper because Furi liked heat, and a splash of Ketel One.
It was Green’s recipe and the only one Syn had perfected. Now the Penne Alla Vodka was the dish he made any time they were celebrating.
He had two plates waiting on the counter. Two long-stemmed wine glasses. A loaf of herb bread wrapped in foil in the oven. And Furi’s favorite bowl set out because he claimed pasta tasted better from it. Syn stirred the sauce and let himself smile.
He was cooking for Furi again.
Waiting for him to come home from his new job. Planning to eat dinner together like normal men who hadn’t almost torn their lives apart, fled to a ranch, had an epiphany, then came back to Atlanta with more love and hope in their hearts than when they’d left.
Normal looked good from where he was standing.
He lowered the heat and tasted the sauce. Needs salt. He added a pinch, stirred again, then leaned one hip against the counter while the Zoom meeting he’d had with the Fulton Municipal Board this afternoon replayed in his head.
He’d gotten the job!
The Atlanta PD had been his identity for so long that leaving it had felt like having skin peeled off.
Law enforcement was in his blood.
Maybe that’s why he’d applied for the sheriff’s position in the small town where Fox and Bull lived.
He’d still be able to protect and serve but with a lot less getting shot at, or serving high risk warrants on notorious dealers who had no qualms killing cops. No more coming home with blood on his shirt and calling it “not mine”.
No more staying at the precinct, strategizing until one in the morning on a case that took months to crack. Or getting called in on his one day off he had a month.
He’d come home at a reasonable hour to Furi.
Ride Nimbus with Bull, Dale, Fox, and the guys in his spare time.
Spirited games of pool, cards, darts, trash-talking, and beer in the bunk house with the hands.
All access to Amelia’s cooking and Walker’s humor.
Even Rid had grown on him when he’d stopped staring at his boyfriend.
The short week he and Furi stayed there, they’d met so many kind, decent people and had taken to the ranch life so much they hadn’t wanted to leave.
Furi loved helping in the petting zoo, and working with the other mechanics, repairing some serious heavy machinery he’d said made him feel like a giant.
Syn found a quiet peace riding the fence line with Fox, repairing small breaks, then moving along. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they just rode in silence. It’d seemed to heal everywhere his soul had ever ached. He missed it already.
The sheriff’s salary was modest, but with Furi’s video royalties, his wages, and the cost of living so much less in the country, they’d live a pretty comfortable life.
He reported to duty next month, which was good timing for Furi to put in his two week’s notice, and for them to find a house. And attend Curtis and Gen’s pop-up wedding of course.
Only Curtis could be kidnapped, rescued by emotionless, enhanced assassins, and decide it was kismet or fucking good luck, to get married immediately after.
Syn still couldn’t think about it without shaking his head.
He’d torn Fox a new one for not coming to get him and Furi from the guesthouse on the south pasture the second all hell broke loose.
Fox had taken the ass-chewing with an annoying country-boy patience that made Syn want to deck him.
Fox had told him flat-out that he and Furi had their own problems to work on. And he hadn’t come to get him because there hadn’t been a damn thing Syn could’ve done from the ranch except stand there, helpless and worried.
Syn had hated that answer…but it’d been true
He and Furi had several hard conversations tucked between horse lessons, long walks, dinners with Bull’s family, and nights where they continued to forgive each other slowly, sometimes with words and sometimes without them.
Syn thought they’d lose the peace they’d found at the ranch when they got back to the city, but the ranch healing had come with them.
The garage door rumbled, and Syn’s smile widened.
Then came the roar of Furi’s Harley, loud enough to rattle the quiet and announce him to half the neighborhood. He turned the burner off and wiped his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder. The engine cut.
Garage door lowered.
Boots.
The door opened.
Furi stepped in with his helmet tucked under one arm and his work jacket hanging from two fingers.
He wore the Solo Motors uniform shirt, charcoal gray with the logo stitched over one side of his chest and his name embroidered over the other.
Furious. Not Furi. His jeans were dark, biker boots scuffed, and he smelled like motor oil and worn leather.
His hair was tied back and protected with a black bandana, and Syn forgot the spoon in his hand.
Furi looked tired but happy to see him. He’d lost his shop, handed the keys over, watched inventory leave, swallowed his pride in pieces, and started to punch a clock for another business.
And yet, every day this week, Furi had come home feeling lighter and smiling…because he was there waiting on him.
Furi hung his jacket on the hook by the door and set his helmet on the bench. “Smells good.”
“Pasta.”
Furi’s mouth curved. “My bowl?”
“On the counter.”
Furi grinned as he walked to the sink and washed his hands.
He was drying his hand when he froze, eyes widening.
“That’s Vodka pasta.”
Syn smirked. “Yep.”
“You got the job!” he yelled.
Syn nodded, having a hard time not matching Furi’s energy.
“We’re moving from this godforsaken city.”
Syn nodded.
Furi rubbed his hands around each other. “And I can keep working on the BiG 1180 harvester, and the John Deere 9RX?”
Syn leaned against the counter, nodding as he scanned Furi’s sexy body up and down.
“I can go back to my baby, Vincent Van Goat.”
Syn laughed. “I can’t believe you named that goat that. But yeah, you can see him every day, because Bull wants you to be one of his full-time mechanics.”
“Oh my god, are you serious? He said that?”
Syn nodded again. He wanted to keep saying yes to Furi for the rest of their lives.
Furi came to him and settled his strong hands on his hips and crowded into him. “I wanna go right now. Let’s just pack all our stuff up and leave tonight.” Furi pushed his growing cock into Syn’s. “And I can have you bent over in the barn’s loft by midnight.”
Furi’s hot mouth found the side of Syn’s neck, below his pulse. Syn closed his eyes, tilting his head back further. The spoon he’d been holding hit the floor.
“Furious.”
“Mm?”
“You just got home.”
“I know.” Furi kissed beneath his ear, slow and sensual enough to make him tighten his grip on the counter.
Syn leaned back, wanting more of Furi’s mouth.
“Dinner’s gonna get cold,” he groaned.
Furi gripped his ass and squeezed. “We have a microwave.”
They’d been insatiable since they’d forgiven each other. The relief of being back in each other’s arms created a desperate hunger in them no amount of lovemaking could satisfy.
Furi slid his hand beneath his T-shirt, across his stomach, as he kissed lower, his teeth grazing lightly enough to pull the breath out of him before he could swallow it.
Furi’s lips curved against his neck. “Did you miss me today?”
Syn covered Furi’s hand with his own and pressed it harder against his stomach. “Yeah. I missed you.”
Furi’s breath caressed his skin, “Love.”
Syn cupped Furi’s jaw and tilted his head back to look at him.
Something bright moved across Furi’s face. “I’m so happy for you, for us. You’re gonna make a great sheriff.”
“Well at least I don’t have to wear a brown polyester uniform.” Syn kept their foreheads together. “Jeans, boots, and a collar shirt.”
Furi growled. “Sexy.”
Furi’s expression shifted. “When you gonna tell the guys?”
“At the wedding,” he said. “I’m happy about their partnership, and I love ’em for wanting to include me.
But I don’t wanna live in Hollywood. I don’t wanna run a million-dollar company.
Especially not after spending time on Fox and Bull’s ranch.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted that kind of peace until I got there and experienced it. ”
“Me too.”
“We’ll start house-hunting first thing in the morning.” Syn wove his hands in Furi’s hair. “But tonight, you’re gonna make love to me in our bed. I’m not driving an hour and sneaking into Bull’s barn.”
Furi laughed into his mouth. “It was just a thought.”
Syn slid his hand around the back of Furi’s neck. “One that I want you to store away for later.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Furi took his mouth with a depth that made Syn forget the counter behind him. He answered immediately, opening for him, gripping the front of his uniform shirt and dragging him closer.
Furi groaned into the kiss, his touch feverish and hungry. He slid both arms around Furi’s shoulders, grinding his aching cock against his thigh. Furi didn’t break their kiss as he reached around him and turned the burner from low to off.
Furious
Furi was so happy he wanted to laugh, holler, jump, run…fuck. He yanked Syn’s clothes off, leaving a trail from the kitchen to their bedroom. By the time they reached the bathroom, they were both bare, skin flushed, and breathing quick.
He kissed and massaged Syn while the water heated up, so by the time they stepped into the shower together he was already close.
Furi let the water sluice over his shoulders, washing away the day’s grime, but it was Syn’s hands he wanted most. He braced his palms against the tiled wall, head bowed.
Syn took the soap and worked it between his palms, then began to wash him with slow, thorough strokes—shoulders first, then down the planes of his back, and over the curve of his ass.
Furi shuddered as Syn teased him mercilessly before he finally moved around to his front. He wrapped his slick, soapy hands around his cock, which was already hard and throbbing.
Furi groaned deeply and helplessly.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” Furi breathed, hips jerking forward into the tight heat of Syn’s fist. “You always know exactly what I need.”
Syn pressed closer, licking along the side of his neck, sucking at the tendon there. “I want this inside me,” he whispered, voice thick.
“You can have it anytime. Always.”
He turned Syn around, guiding his chest to the wall and pulling his hips back until that perfect ass was presented for him. “Yeah, just like that.”
He reached for the lube on the shower rack, slicking himself with quick, impatient strokes, before he pressed two fingers to Syn’s entrance and worked them inside.
He didn’t linger long—Syn loved the stretch, the burn—and soon Furi was lining up and pressing forward inch by inch.
The heat and tightness of Syn’s body stole his breath immediately. Being inside the man he loved never got old. It always felt like the first fucking time.
Furi groaned, dropping his forehead between Syn’s shoulder blades, hips rocking deeper until he was fully seated.
Syn
Syn flattened his cheek to the cool tile as Furi filled him. The stretch burned in the best way, a deep, steady ache spreading warmth through his belly and settling something restless in his chest.
He felt full, claimed, wanted, needed, and the sensation of Furi taking him always brought a comfort, a reprieve he’d never found anywhere else. He hadn’t expected to crave this. Years of being in charge, of leading, of keeping everything locked down tight, taught him to stay in control.
But Furi had seen through all of that from the start. With him, Syn could let go. He could surrender and trust that the man behind him would hold him steady through every wave of pleasure.
Furi began to move, slow and deep, each thrust a deliberate promise that he’d have this forever. Syn pushed back to meet him, moaning louder as the pressure built.
Every slide of Furi’s cock inside him lit up nerves he hadn’t known existed before him.
Furi’s hand found his, fingers lacing together against the wall. “I’ve got you, love,” he murmured, voice strained with effort and love. “Always.”
Syn’s answer was a broken sound, half gasp, half moan, as the pace quickened. He felt cherished, adored, and the emotional release was almost as intense as the physical one.
Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter…until it snapped. He came with Furi’s name on his lips, body clenching around the thick length inside him.
Furi followed seconds later, burying himself deep and spilling with a low, reverent groan, warmth flooding Syn in pulsing currents.
They stayed like that for a long moment, temples pressed together, breathing the same air.
Furi eased out gently, turning him in his arms and taking his mouth in a slow, lingering kiss. They rinsed off under the cooling spray, hands moving over each other with quiet affection, before stepping out. Like always, Furi wrapped him in a thick towel before he covered himself.
Downstairs, the kitchen was still warm with the scent of dinner.
They ate in their towels at the island, legs brushing under the counter, stealing kisses between bites, and fussing playfully about what they wanted in their new house.
“I want a goat pen in the back so I can bring Vincent Van Goat over for sleepovers.”
Syn laughed into his wine glass. “No-fuckin-way. You can play with that cantankerous bastard at the ranch, that’s it. Our backyard’s gonna have an inflatable movie screen and a hot tub.”
Furi’s brows rose. “I think I can agree to that.”
“Good.”
“If you let me have a pet llama.”
Syn almost shot his wine out his nose.
Furi laughed and pulled him in for a wet, sloppy kiss. “You’re gonna love him. He was born a couple days before we left. He was so cute and fuzzy. I named him Barack O’llama, and the staff thought it was perfect.”
Syn felt the last months of tension melt away.
The next chapter of their lives stretched out ahead of them—together.
…and apparently full of a bunch of weirdly named animals.