Let's Sit Back and Watch the Bed Burn |Virgato|

Chapter 9

There's a loud knock on the door that makes them pull apart.

"About time the cops show up," Joel laughs, his voice rough and Chris just laughs, pulls out of his husband and picks up their clothes from the floor. Their shirts are practically unwearable, but they managed to slip on some underwear and head to the door, Joel's arm around Christopher's shoulders as they answer it.

A cop is standing there, fist poised to knock once again. His eyes go wide when he sees the state they're in, but both of them just give a kind smile to the man. "Are you two aware that your garage has been on fire for the past thirty minutes?"

They don't even try to act surprised, "One of the neighbor kids must have shot off a firework again, damn," Joel curses, kissing Christopher's cheek. "Guess we can redecorate now, right, babe?"

Chris laughs at that, kissing Joel's lips sweetly before bidding the officer goodbye as the sounds of the fire department echo in the background. Joel watches as the flames are put out completely, both of them standing in the doorway as the fire is put out and the trucks disappear into the night, both of them left only with an estimate of the damages of a burnt garage.

"Well," Chris says once he's closed the door, sliding his hand into Joel's and intertwining their fingers. "How about some breakfast? It's pretty early in the morning, but if you ask me, we've worked up quite an appetite." He winks, making Joel shove him gently as they walk to the kitchen, avoiding various pieces of glass that surround them.

They can't make much, the kitchen not exactly in the greatest shape after their fight, but they manage to have some juice and fruit, both of them taking turns sliding said fruit into the other's mouth with happy hums.

"You now," Joel says, chewing on the piece of honey dew in his mouth, the juice leaking from the corners of his mouth. He wipes them off with his sleeve. "I'm really curious about this, what the hell were you doing in Colombia exactly? I mean, you know what I was doing, and I know you said I stole your target, but why on Earth were you just sitting in a hotel while that man was free game?"

Chris sighs, taking a drink of his orange juice. "Honestly, I was planning a way to sneak into the place and get him. I guess you could say I was still in practice around that time, and when you came in all bloody and running from the cops, I could have sworn you were the one to do it." He lets out a laugh. "Who knew you actually had?"

Joel smiles, taking a grape and popping it into his mouth. "I even made up some bullshit story to get out of that, one that you believed, by the way." He pushes a grape in between Christopher's lips, Chris kissing Joel's fingers as he did so. "What else is there that we need to discuss, well, aside from the billions of things we've lied about."

Chris ponders this for a moment, chewing the grape in his mouth as he thinks. "Remember our fourth anniversary? When I showed up late because Richard crashed our server and I had to help him fix it?" Joel nods, taking a bite of strawberry as Chris continues. "In reality, it was because Richard hacked into a rival agency's programs and was accidentally spilling identities out to everyone on the internet. I had to help him cover his tracks."

"One time, when I said that the bruise on my jaw was from someone swinging a two by four around? Well, that was Erick and I doing fight training and him catching me off guard." He takes a drink of orange juice, placing the empty glass down on the counter. Chris laughs at him before his smiling lips place a kiss on Joel's jaw.

"The night you proposed to me," Chris says, fiddling with the collar of Joel's shirt. "You said that I reminded you of sunlight and all the good things in the world. Do you still believe that? Despite all the people you know I've killed?" He gazes up at his husband, trying to figure out his own answer someone within Joel's eyes, but comes up blank.

Joel opens his mouth to speak when there's suddenly glass breaking, a loud thud against their fridge. Both of them turn to look when smoke begins to fill up the kitchen, several more windows breaking around them and loud footsteps against the hardwood floor. Joel wraps an arm around his husband as they both duck out of the kitchen and head towards the dining room, where Joel grabs one of his pistols from underneath the table.

"We need to get to the basement," he whispers, loading the pistol. "I have more ammo and weapons down there than I do up here. Do you have anything to protect yourself with?"

There's a loud commotion as someone barges into the dining room, gun aimed directly at Joel. Before the guy can even reach the trigger, Chris is grabbing one of the steak knives from that night's dinner and sending it directly into the guy's neck. The guy falls to the floor in a heap and Chris smirks at his husband before pulling the knife out of the guy's neck and holding it tight in his grasp. "I got something," he says, before following Joel out into the hallway, heading towards the basement. Joel stares at him in wonder as they enter the basement, making Chris turn around and give him a look. "What?"

"Always viewed you as defenseless if I'm being honest, babe," he confesses, shutting the basement door behind them and heading down the stairs. "You being all tough and fighting back is pretty hot." He walks over to a small chest underneath one of the tables they stored down there, opening the latch and pulling out some weapons. Chris nods in approval at the array of guns now scattered across the basement floor as commotion from above continues. "Grab a gun and load it, we don't know how much longer we have down here until they realize where we are."

Chris nods, crouching down and grabbing one of the handguns and loading it. He grabs a few more packs of ammo, stuffing them into the boots in the corner of the room. "We need footwear. Put these on, babe." He tosses Joel one of the pairs before sliding on his own. They look ridiculous, standing in only their boxer shorts and rubber boots, but they don't have access to much. "Think we can get out of the cellar entrance, or do you think they have the place surrounded?"

"Probably have us surrounded," Joel decides, stuffing one of the guns in the waistband of his boxers. "It's probably Kolm that has us surrounded, too. Finally decided to get rid of me because I couldn't eliminate the target." He closes the chest, duffel full of guns slung across his shoulder. "We just need to get out of here and grab a getaway car, head to Erick's house. I'm pretty sure he'll take us in and hide us for the time being."

Chris quirks an eyebrow at that. "Are you sure about that? What if Kolm got to him first? What if he's been pinned against us like the rest of your agency seems to be?"

Joel ponders this for a moment, before deciding, "Erick wouldn't turn against me like that. He's been there for me for far too long to just turn on me because of this. Maria wouldn't do it either." There's a loud crash against the basement door and Joel quickly cups Christopher's face, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Whatever happens, know that my love for you was never something I made up, okay? That was all real."

Chris nods, kissing him one last time before aiming his gun towards the top of the stairs, ready for whatever came their way.

There's a small clanging as a device clatters down the stairs, resting at Joel's feet. It's a small, silver grenade, ticking loudly in their ears. Chris quickly kicks the thing away from them as it continues to count down, both of them heading towards the cellar doors and bursting through them. Unsurprisingly, they are met with great force, bullets flying from every angle as they attempt to shoot their attackers and dodge all at once.

They don't expect to be completely blown off of their feet, their house exploding to bits behind them as they crash into the grass. Joel pulls Chris into his embrace, covering his head as various pieces of debris rain down on them from the explosion. Their attackers are lying on the ground around them, either unconscious from the blast or dead.

Chris peaks his head out from underneath his husband, looking back at what remains of their home with wide eyes. "Grenade packed a shit-load of force," he whispers under his breath, picking himself up off of the ground and brushing off the ash and dust. Flames flicker at his feet from the various remnants of their home, and he can feel the pieces of wood stuck in his hair. "I don't think we can get away with telling the fire department that this was just a firework this time."

It's not an appropriate moment, but Joel can't help but laugh.