Don't Put Your Life at Risk for Me

Chapter 1

Javier never asked to fall in love.

Hell, he never thought he'd ever know what love even was.

He knows what love is now, and what falling feels like. It's sitting across from him in a pale blue button-up with a cigarette between pink lips.

Love is Steve Murphy, and Javier Peña was falling.

He'd stumbled the first day Steve walked up to him with those bright eyes and wide smile, his hand reaching out to shake his own. From that moment he knew he was falling and drowning in his gaze. He noticed the little things straight away: the furrow of Steve's brow when he was confused, the quirk of his upper lip whenever Javier spoke Spanish, and the way his nose crinkled when his coffee was too strong. He then picked up on the way he'd drum his fingers on his desk when reading through a file, the deep sighs he'd release when something came up useless, and how he'd started reaching for more cigarettes than he used to. He noticed the important things later, like how his shoulders would slump when he'd had a rough night (they were slumping every day now), at what time of day coffee would turn into whiskey, the increasing lines in his forehead, the depressed demeanor he'd started sporting, and worst of all how dull his eyes had gotten.

Javier had never known so much about a man before without even asking. He could tell Steve's moods distinctly from each other and at which exact moment they'd change. He could name if Steve had properly eaten the night before by which clothes he wore the next day and if he'd slept at all by how carefully he'd done his hair. He knew Steve used a cologne with base notes of vanilla and amber and with top notes of lavender and bergamot. The scent followed him around all day and haunted him in his bed at night.

Everything began to remind him of Steve as well. Even the small seemingly insignificant things. The little pond with a fountain he passed on his way home every day reminded him of Steve's blue eyes. The smell of his whiskey reminded him of the way Steve's Adam's apple would move every time he downed his own drink. The soft yellow of the empty vase sitting on his dining table reminded him of Steve's golden hair. The taste of cigarettes reminded him of the way Steve's lips closed around each smoke and the shapes his mouth would make on every exhale. He couldn't even fuck anyone anymore without thinking about the small noises Steve makes whenever he stretches his back.

Javier had almost fainted the day it was so hot that even the inside of the Embassy had everyone sweating. Steve had unbuttoned the top of his shirt and left it open for the entire day. Javier couldn't help himself from staring at the pale flesh of his neck and across the top of his chest. It was flushed a light pink and beads of sweat just kept rolling down the smooth skin. He imagined running his tongue over his exposed flesh and catching every salty trail of sweat, savoring every inch of his delectable skin. He hadn't gotten anything done that day. He'd went home with a dry throat and an embarrassing erection.

He'd decided a long time ago that nothing was more important than making sure Steve got home safe every night. Catching Escobar was second on his list when it came to Steve.

Javier would always go ahead of Steve in raids and bust through doors with his gun drawn before the other man could complain. He always gave Steve the only tactical vest he kept in his truck whenever they were out and had to do a quick once over in an area. He never turned his radio off of Steve's channel whenever they got separated, and he always went running to his partner whenever he heard shots. He even abandoned his chase on a sicario that he would've caught just because he knew Steve was in danger. There wasn't anything Javier wouldn't give up to keep him alive.

The only problem Javier struggled with was that Steve was married. Married happily to a beautiful woman with a little girl they'd quite literally just adopted. Javier could come to terms with the fact that he was in love with a man, with his partner, but he couldn't shake the fast that Steve was entirely off limits. Nothing he could ever say or do would change that fact, and it fucking broke his heart. He'd realized what he felt was love a month after Steve had shaken his hand, and Javier had gone over a year keeping that to himself. He didn't want to jeopardize their friendship or their work, but it hurt like Hell going back to his apartment every night knowing he'd never be able to even have a slice of what he so desired. Nothing stabbed his heart and kept him awake at night more than not being able to call Steve his own.