Undercover (Boyxboy)

Chapter Three

Harry

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

Was there no common decency left in the world anymore? I mean, how hard was it to schedule a meeting for after eight in the morning?!

‘Eight am sharp, boys. And I’m looking at you, Taylor’, Captain had warned yesterday afternoon. Ethan had given a curt nod with no reservations.

I, on the other hand, had many.

“Eight?!” I had asked incredulously. Ethan had nudged me subtly with his elbow, but it still hurt. “Ow,” I frowned, hitting him back not so subtly.

Ethan liked to act prim and proper in front of our Captain. He seems to think that the Captain is better than us, just because of his ranking. Well I say fuck that. We were human beings too, and I was not taking part in this form of slave torture by getting up any earlier than ten am!

These were the thoughts rushing through my head as Ethan pounded on my door. My digital clock told me it was merely seven in the morning. What in God’s name was he doing up this early? It took ten minutes for me to get ready, max. That’s why I had my alarm set for ten minutes to eight. But no – Ethan had to be Mr. Always Early. I had told him enough times to leave me out of his punctuality.

He seems to think I’ll sleep through my alarm, or something ridiculous like that, however.

“Harry, I’m coming in there in thirty seconds if you’re not up!” he warned. See, this was the difference between Ethan and I. If it was me, I’d be in his room already, jumping on top of him in his bed, singing my heart out until he got up.

Ethan and his boundaries were like inoperable Siamese twins – there was no separating them.

I grunted in response, knowing he’d hear me through the paper thin walls. Our apartments were surprisingly shitty for such a profitable organisation. Especially considering we were one of their top agents.

“I can’t hear you moving around in there. That means you’re still in bed. Get up and take a shower, come on!” He was like my fucking father. Of course, I wouldn’t know what having a father felt like, since the prick walked out on my mother when I was two.

If it were me, I’d have left when I found out the bitch was knocked up. Joke, joke!

“I’m up,” I mumbled into my pillow, stretching out in my bed, never feeling as content in my life until this very moment. It was strange that this feeling always occurred just as I was about to leave my warm, comfortable, delicious bed.

“Right, that’s it,” I heard him sigh and suddenly he was storming into my room, a look of annoyance on his face. “Get the fuck up, you have to shower and eat something. They could send us on a private jet to some random location the second the meeting is over, you never know! It’s happened to us before – you can’t just roll out of bed for these meetings, Harry!”

God, he was so alert for this time of morning. “Good morning to you too, Ethan,” I yawned and peered at him through one lazy eye, too exhausted to open the other one. If he hadn’t woken me up last night, screaming, maybe I wouldn’t be so tired.

I didn’t say this to him, though. Even I knew that was a low blow. And it had scared the shit out of me, I had to admit. When I heard him roaring my name in his sleep, followed by a series of profanities, I knew it was another night terror.

I had sprinted to his room in seconds, trying to coax him out of his nightmare. It scared me to see Ethan this vulnerable. Shit, I mean he was the strong one in this relationship – scratch that, friendship.