"I sent you the videos. Prepare coast guards and rescue; we will start the search tomorrow," Zee said to his secretary over the phone. "Don't show them the videos. Just tell them the location," he added.
After receiving an affirmative response from his secretary, he ended the call and covered his face with his hands in despair.
As night fell, they both decided to check Saint's dad's old phone. Thankfully, it was still functioning. Fighter opened the video gallery and saw two videos displayed. He played the first video with trembling hands, nervous about what they were about to watch. Thankfully, his boyfriend was trying his best to ease his anxiety. Saint held Fighter's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Whatever it is, we're in this together," Saint whispered, his presence calming Fighter as the video began to play.
Fighter clicked the first video, captured by a CCTV, showing a man he recognized being hit in the head with a baseball bat. As the man lost consciousness, two guys dragged him into a car, which then sped away from the scene.
Fighter clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Saint noticed and gently held Fighter's hand to calm him. Fighter was silently seething with rage, imagining retribution against the kidnappers as the video played on repeat.
He then clicked the second video. It showed two guys unloading a huge container from the same car and loading it onto a boat. The boat moved a few meters away from the port before someone dropped the container into the sea. This footage was also from a CCTV, recorded on the same day but at a different time.
Fighter dropped the phone onto the bed and covered his face in agony, unable to process the horrifying scenes he had just witnessed.
Saint, on the other hand, was shocked by the videos. They were traumatic and disturbing to watch. He felt a deep anger towards the inhumane acts of the perpetrators. However, Fighter was feeling an even more intense rage because the victim was someone he knew. Saint knew he had to stay mentally relaxed, as Fighter needed his comfort and support now more than ever.
"Saint, what if he's dead?" Fighter murmured, his hands still covering his face.
"Hey baby, don't say that. We haven't confirmed anything about him being dead," Saint reassured him, rubbing his boyfriend's back gently.
"I can't believe they did that to him," Fighter said, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.
"Fight... Come here. Let's lie down."
Saint made his boyfriend lie down on the bed, cradling Fighter's head on his arms like a pillow. Fighter nuzzled his face against Saint's neck.
"Saint, it's him in that container," Fighter whispered anxiously.
"Shhh, Fight. We'll find out tomorrow, okay?" Saint kissed Fighter's forehead tenderly. "Let's try to sleep for now."
"I don't think I can sleep tonight, Saint." Fighter hugged Saint tightly, his worry palpable as the disturbing images from the video replayed in his mind.
"I understand, baby. Want me to kiss you so you can sleep?" Saint lifted his head to look directly into his boyfriend's eyes.
"What...what are you saying?" Fighter's face turned bright red in an instant.
"You don't want to?" Saint teased, booping Fighter's nose with his own, making Fighter giggle.
"I want. Pleaaasee," Fighter replied in an adorably cute way.
"My baby is so cute," Saint said, smiling warmly before leaning in to kiss Fighter gently on the lips.
They were smiling a few seconds ago, but now, they're gazing into each other's eyes intensely. Fighter, who is under Saint, is trying to calm his breathing from nervousness. His heart is beating so loudly in his chest that he can hear the thumping sound up to his ears. Saint gently strokes Fighter's face, making him curve his lips upward in a delighted smile.
"I love you, Fight," Saint whispers, then kisses Fighter's forehead. Fighter wraps his hands around Saint's neck, running his left fingers through Saint's hair before stopping to caress his ear.
"I love you too," Fighter responds, his voice full of warmth and affection.
Saint slowly moved closer to him, and Fighter lifted his head to meet Saint's lips. As their lips met, Fighter parted his lips right away, letting Saint devour him. The kiss went deep and sensual. Saint moved his hand to pin Fighter by the shoulder, lightly kneading it. Because of the intimate kiss, Fighter momentarily forgot his worries about what tomorrow might bring. His mind was filled with Saint's love and the sensation of Saint's tongue exploring every corner of his mouth. Fighter caught Saint's tongue and began to suck on it gently, savoring the connection between them.
"Ngghh..."
Fighter parted his lips to catch his breath, a string of saliva connecting their mouths. Saint moved closer, licking the saliva from Fighter's lip before swallowing it. He traced Fighter's lips with his tongue, leaving kisses in between. Fighter pulled him closer, craving more.
Saint parted the kiss, moving to kiss the corners of Fighter's lips up to his ear. Fighter tilted his head to the side, giving Saint full access. Saint began to place feathery kisses behind Fighter's ear, licking the antihelix. Fighter shivered at the warm sensation of Saint's saliva and the sound of his soft breaths. Saint then nipped his earlobe.
"Aahhh...Saint"
Saint moved down to Fighter's neck, kissing with soft nips all the way to his Adam's apple. Fighter tilted his head back, and Saint immediately licked it twice before sandwiching it between his lips.
"Hmm... Ahhh..."
Fighter curled his toes at the pleasurable sensation, feeling his member start to harden. He lifted his waist, grinding against Saint for friction.
"Saint..."
Saint roamed his hand to Fighter's firm chest, lifting Fighter's shirt and sliding his hand inside. He sensually rubbed Fighter's skin while kissing him passionately on the lips.
"Hmmgh..."
Saint paused his kisses and moved his face down to Fighter's chest. Fighter let out a deep breath in anticipation. Saint kissed Fighter's chest, licking the skin around his nipple.
"Ahhh...ahh...Saint..."
Fighter ran his fingers through Saint's hair, gripping it occasionally. Saint sucked Fighter's nipple, circling his tongue around it. Fighter's body moved uncontrollably with pleasure as Saint continued to play with his nipple, making Fighter's dick twitch inside his pants.
"Saint...t..touch...mhngg me...aahh..."
Saint moved to the other side to devour Fighter's other nipple and lightly rubbed Fighter's aroused dick through the thick fabric of his pants. Fighter bit his lips hard to prevent himself from moaning loudly. Saint started to unzip Fighter's pants, and suddenly, Fighter went into a panic.
"Ahhh... Saint... w-wait. Ahhh..."
Saint stopped what he was doing, his heavy-lidded eyes filled with concern as he licked his wet lips from kissing Fighter.
"W-what's wrong?" Saint asked between pants.
"My back..." Fighter quivered from the itchy feeling spreading across his back
"Why? What's wrong?" Saint asked again, this time seriously worried.
"I think... my wings are about to... show up." Fighter sat up, shutting his eyes tightly in distress.
Saint snorted at his boyfriend and rubbed Fighter's shoulder. On cue, Fighter's wings finally showed upward. Fighter covered his face with both of his hands, embarrassed.
"Again..." Fighter murmured behind his hands.
Saint giggled at his boyfriend's cuteness. He carefully removed Fighter's hands from his face, revealing a pouting baby angel.
"Hey baby, it's alright," Saint reassured him.
"This is actually your fault," Fighter huffed, glaring at Saint while still pouting.
What? Why me?" Saint was agape at the ridiculous accusation from his adorable boyfriend.
"Because of your kisses, my wings couldn't handle it," Fighter reasoned out.
"Am I that good?" Saint asked quizzically.
"Good is an understatement, Saint."
___
As soon as the sun rose in the clear blue sky, Saint and Fighter decided to leave early to catch up with the rescue operation that had already started their search at the port. They were anxious and tense during the journey, with Fighter constantly calling his secretary for updates. He was overwhelmed with worry the entire way, desperately hoping that his worst fears about his old secretary being dead were unfounded. Fighter clasped his hands together, silently praying for a positive outcome.
Saint could do nothing but offer comforting words and stay by Fighter's side, reassuring him amidst the worry. He observed Fighter closely, concerned that the emotional strain might cause his boyfriend's feathers to shed, but there was no sign of that happening yet.
After a two and a half hour drive, they finally arrived at the port. They were met by Ms. Janis, who promptly updated Zee on the progress of the search.
"Sir, divers have located a container just under that boat," she pointed out towards a vessel in the distance. "They're in the process of retrieving it, sir."
"Thank you, Jan," Zee acknowledged gratefully. Meanwhile, Saint continued to comfort Fighter, gently making small circles on his back to provide reassurance.
The sun shone brightly over the port, but a strong wind whipped through the air, adding a chill to the scene. Rescuers, coast guards, and an ambulance stood on standby, ready for any outcome. Some civilians gathered nearby, whispering amongst themselves about the commotion.
Zee and Saint stood close together, eyes fixed on the divers working tirelessly to retrieve the container. The tension was palpable, and Fighter's hands trembled slightly as he held onto Saint for support.
The crackle of the walkie-talkie in Ms. Janis's hand startled Zee and Saint.
"The container has chains around it, ma'am. They're now trying to lift it up," the voice crackled through.
"Copy. Be careful," Ms. Janis responded, her voice steady.
Zee and Saint, standing close enough to hear, felt the weight of the update. Zee clenched his fist in response, anxiety tightening his features. Saint noticed immediately and quickly held his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Calm down, Fight," Saint murmured gently, his thumb brushing soothingly over Zee's knuckles.
Almost 20 minutes had passed, and they finally saw the container being pulled out of the seawater. Fighter held Saint's hand tightly as the boat with the container approached them. His heart beat faster with each passing second as the boat drew nearer. The tension was palpable, but it eased little by little, thanks to the comforting presence of his supportive boyfriend.
They soon unloaded the container at the dock and brought it to an open area where Saint, Zee, and Ms. Janis were waiting. The rusty container was indeed covered with moss and chains.
It took some time to remove the chains, which were wrapped around the container in a complicated manner. As the rescuers worked, Fighter's sweat and anxiety intensified, his fiery feeling rushing up to his neck. When they finally removed the chains, they found a lock on the side of the container. Quickly, they smashed it with a hammer, and the rusty lock came off right away.
As soon as the container lid was opened, a rotten smell greeted them, making everyone in the area almost puke. Inside was a decaying body, unrecognizable due to the advanced state of decomposition.
Zee covered his mouth and nose at the sight before him. Even though he couldn't recognize the body, his heart raced at the possibility that this might be the man he had been searching for. Saint never let go of his boyfriend, rubbing his back to calm him down.
Ms. Janis quickly called the detective whom the Panichs trusted the most, explaining the situation in detail.
They did not touch the body, knowing it wasn't their job. They waited for the authorized personnel to handle the scene. After a few minutes, crime investigators and forensic experts arrived. Detective Kanawut greeted Zee before starting the investigation.
"Zee," Detective Kanawut said, shaking his hand firmly, "we'll handle this from here.
"Zee nodded, his eyes filled with a mix of hope and despair. "Thank you, Detective."
Zee and Saint watched silently, holding hands, as the forensic team carefully lifted the body out of the container and placed it on a white cloth. An investigator noticed something else inside the container and picked it up, placing it beside the body. It was a wallet and a wristwatch, both dry because water hadn’t entered the container.
"Wait!" Zee crouched down for a closer look at the watch. His eyes widened, and he covered his mouth with his shaky hands. It was the watch he had given to Max as a welcome gift. He knew it was Max's because he had personally designed it.
Detective Kanawut opened the wallet and found Max Nattapol's identification card. He placed the contents of the wallet on the white cloth beside the body. Zee glimpsed the ID and confirmed the worst.
Zee clenched his fists, his fingers curling tightly into his palms, and punched his knees in frustration and grief. His secretary was confirmed dead, and the realization that he had failed to save him in time hit him hard.
"Max..." Zee bent his head in sorrow, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. His secretary was murdered, and Zee was certain of who was behind it. Why did Max have to suffer for someone else's vendetta? If their target was him, why take an innocent life?
Saint hugged him from the side, whispering soothing words and offering comfort. He paid special attention to Fighter's back, where feathers usually emerged, occasionally covering it with his palm to prevent the feathers from falling out.
"Fight, it's alright," Saint murmured softly.
Zee took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I can't believe this happened to him. He didn't deserve this."
"We'll get through this," Saint reassured him. "And we'll make sure those responsible are brought to justice."
Zee nodded, grateful for Saint's support. He glanced at the forensic team, who were still working diligently. "Thank you for being here with me, Saint. I don't know what I would do without you."
"We're in this together, Fight," Saint said firmly. "And we'll find a way to honor Max's memory and get justice for him."
The detectives continued their investigation, and the weight of the moment settled heavily on everyone present. Despite the grief, there was a shared sense of resolve. They would find those responsible and ensure that Max's death was not in vain.
