Page 18 of Hardline Torque
Victor stared at him, still struggling to reconcile that moment—the impossible eye contact, the nod.
“How did you even know where I was?”
Tane’s grin was slow and unapologetic.“A man has to have some secrets when he’s courting another man.”
Victor choked on his beer.
“W-what?”
Tane laughed and stood, dishing stew into bowls and setting them on the table like he hadn’t just detonated Victor’s brain.“I’ve decided you’re mine,” he said calmly.“Which means it’s my job to prove I’m a man of my word.Someone you can trust.Someone who’ll stand with you when you start fucking with the Directorate.”
Victor stared.“You’re not going to tell me to stop?”
“Hell, no,” Tane said.“Black Tide’s going to help you.”
They ate, conversation drifting to safer ground, but it never quite stayed there.
They talked about music first.Victor admitted he listened to whatever didn’t make him think too hard—instrumentals, old rock, the occasional classical piece when he needed to drown everything else out.Tane countered with stories of growing up with music always playing somewhere, aunties singing while they cooked, uncles arguing over playlists, rhythm woven into daily life whether you noticed it or not.
Then places.
Victor spoke about cities that blurred together in his memory—airports at dawn, hotel rooms that smelled like bleach, coastlines he’d seen only from a distance.He realized, halfway through a sentence, that he’d never really been anywhere.He’d passed through.
Tane listened without interrupting, nodding occasionally, eyes steady on Victor’s face.When Victor faltered, unsure why he was explaining himself at all, Tane simply said, “You don’t have to justify it.”
That, more than anything else, made Victor’s chest tighten.
Later, when the stew was gone and the dishes were stacked neatly by the sink, Victor watched Tane move around the van with easy familiarity.Nothing wasted.Nothing rushed.This wasn’t the restlessness of someone waiting for the next assignment—it was the calm of someone who expected to be here tomorrow.
Victor wrapped both hands around his mug of tea, the warmth seeping into his palms.The herbal blend tasted faintly of honey and something floral he couldn’t name.It settled him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.
Tane caught him looking into the cup.“Aunty Leilani makes it,” Tane said.“It’s a healing and sleep brew.Don’t argue.It works.”
“I wasn’t going to.You really trust them,” Victor said quietly, eyes on the surface of the liquid.
Tane glanced at him.“With my life.”
There was no bravado in it.No qualification.
Victor nodded slowly, filing that away.
When Tane finished cleaning up, he turned the lights down further.“Time to sleep.”
Victor hesitated.
Tane smiled, easy and unthreatening.“Jump in the bed.We’re exhausted.You’re injured.When we finally claim each other, it’ll be when we’re both ready.”
Victor lay awake behind the partition, thinking about that.
The bed was absurdly comfortable.Tane opened windows on both sides and switched on a quiet extraction fan overhead.
“The extractor fan draws in fresh air all night,” he said.“In this heat and humidity, it helps.”
They lay side by side in the dark as rain began tapping softly against the van.
“Is that what it sounded like at the orphanage?”Victor asked.
Tane laughed softly.“Hell, no, it was a lot worse.”
