29. Magical

Luca drives them to a small family owned eatery, tucked off the main streets. Each wall is decorated with framed photographs of what Jet assumes are the owner and his family. Strategically placed ceiling lights cast a subtle, cozy glow over the teak tables and chairs spread across the tiny dining area. An aroma of spices mingles with the scent of the orchids in tiny vases on each of the tables.
“What?” Luca casts Jet a sideways glance. “Not what you were expecting?”
Jet shrugs. Luca’s table is already reserved and what seems to be his usual order of Pad See Eiw, green curry and papaya salad is ready before they sit down. The waitstaff—a man and woman about their age—seem to know Luca by name, engaging in light banter as they lead him across the restaurant. Luca introduces Jet, whom they give dark looks, annoyed that Luca is apparently no longer single.
Jet raises his eyebrows at the contrast in greetings. “Close friends of yours?”
“Actually," Luca grins. "We used to date.”
Jet’s eyebrows are ready to disappear into his hair. “Both of them?”
“Not at the same time. Him first, then her.” Luca’s gaze remains firmly fastened on Jet. “Before I met you.”
Color creeps up Jet’s face, and he can’t think of anything to say.
“Can I ask you something? Why would you want to modify a perfectly good Regera?” Luca smiles to take the potential accusatory sting out of his question.
“That idea was Kam’s, not mine.” Jet corrects him, digging into the green curry. “He likes to push boundaries.”
“I see.” Luca cocks his head. “And you don’t?”
“Depends on the boundary that needs pushing.” Jet says it to his spoon first, then glances up at Luca’s face.
Luca looks way too interested. “Is that why you studied criminal justice at uni and then turned to cars?”
“Are we back to icebreakers again?” Jet raises his eyebrows, answering Luca’s question with another question.
“I can ask you a more interesting question if you want.” Luca shrugs. “Did Kai tell you what he stole yet?”
As if to answer Luca’s question, Jet’s phone buzzes. Jet forces his fingers to stay around his spoon instead of straying to his pocket. “I haven’t seen Kai since he went back to work on Monday.”
“What about your sister?” Luca toys with his Pad See Eiw, his voice deliberately casual.
Jet shakes his head, grateful that his mouth is full of papaya salad, so he can concentrate on his little white lie before he vocalizes it. “Haven’t heard from Mali either.”
“You know, the corporate world is like a game of chess.” Luca mutters. “Every move, win, and loss matters.”
That catches Jet’s attention. “You sound like you have first hand experience.”
“Yeah.” Luca smiles, but the shutters drop down over his eyes. “Eat your food. We have somewhere else to be.”
“This isn’t the magical place you were telling me about?” Now it’s Jet’s turn to cock his head.
This time the smile reaches Luca’s eyes as he recognizes Jet’s attempt to lighten the mood. “Just eat your food.”
◼️◼️◼️◼️
After dinner, instead of heading toward the more upscale shopping areas, Luca drives in the opposite direction, to Talad Rot Fai. The streets and stalls of the large, well known night market bustle with its usual eclectic mix of vintage treasures, and street food. Jet’s recently filled stomach groans and his mouth waters at the smell of spices and sizzling meat.
Stalls are ingeniously set up under tents, inside cleverly converted vans, and on makeshift ground coverings. Vendors entice passersby with an array of wares: antiques, knickknacks, jewelry, and both vintage and modern fashion items. Bits of conversation from pop up bars and food vendors mingle with the strains of live music that add an extra flavor to the organized chaos. Luca navigates through the riot of textures and colors, drawing smiles and conversation as effortlessly as he crafted cocktails.
“You really are a walking contradiction.” Jet admits.
Luca winks. “And an intriguing one.”
Jet’s lips twitch. The market’s energy mirrors Luca’s own charisma, making him even more captivating. The stark contrast to his last night market visit is not lost on Jet. It had been smaller, the atmosphere had felt charged with apprehension, and he had moved through the stalls without really seeing them. The only conversation he’d had was with a very sulky Kai, over food Jet bought just to have something to do with his hands.
Jet’s conscience twinges at the thought of his younger brother. All through dinner, throughout most of the evening in fact, his phone had buzzed, and Jet had ignored it. He knew all the texts were from Kai, and he was pretty sure he knew what they were about. But right now, he just wanted to think about something other than OmniVentures. Not push it to the back of his head like he’d done last time, but actually forget about it for an hour or two. Luca was still a distraction, but maybe tonight, he could be a welcome distraction.
And a better one than a Black Russian.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never been here before.” Luca’s voice pulls Jet out of his thoughts.
Jet shrugs. “I used to come here a lot when I was at uni.”
“And then what?” Luca gives Jet the once over. “You became a big important COO, so your sense of fun went down the drain along with your taste in clothing?”
Jet isn’t entirely sure if that’s a joke or not. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Nothing that can’t easily be fixed.” Luca pauses next to one of the stalls.
Racks of clothing stretch out in every shade and style imaginable, from traditional to modern chic. Classic trench coats, embroidered dresses and leather jackets hang opposite brightly colored blouses, tailored blazers, more modern jackets and jeans in various cuts, creating a kaleidoscope of fabric and color. On impulse, Luca pulls one of the leather jackets off its hanger, holding it up for Jet to see.
Jet raises his eyebrows. “You’re going to wear that in Bangkok?”
“Nah,” Luca laughs, swatting him with the jacket sleeve. “This is for when I go back to Milan, provided it fits.”
He’s already trying the jacket on, and it molds perfectly to his body. Jet feels an unpleasant constriction inside his chest when Luca talks about returning to Milan, which makes no sense because if Luca’s parents live for part of the year in Italy then of course he’d go visit them. It didn't mean Luca was leaving for good. And why should that matter so much to Jet anyway?
“Yep, definitely for Milan.” Luca peels off the jacket and turns to the vendor to begin bargaining. He had only worn it for a couple of seconds, but the humidity coupled with the weight and density of the leather soaked the back of his shirt.
Jet can count every one of Luca’s muscles through that shirt.
And every time he counts, his fingers tingle with the urge to touch.
“This.” Luca’s eyes light up with excitement as he holds up the next clothing article for consideration. “This would look amazing on you.”
It’s a silk shirt, vintage cut and beautifully tailored. The fairy lights hung around the stall catch on the azure fabric, making it shimmer. Now Jet’s fingers are tingling with the urge to trace over the smooth surface, but he maintains his composure, raising an eyebrow instead.
“It’s the same color as your car.” He points out.
“And you looked pretty damn good in my car.” Luca quips. “Try it.”
Jet shakes his head. “You said I owe you clothes.”
“Never said the new clothes were for me, did I?” Luca extends the shirt toward Jet. “Try it on.”
Jet glances around the crowded stall and the street just outside. “Where?”
“Hang on.” Luca goes back in the direction of the vendor, who is now engaged in bargaining with another potential customer.
Waiting for the opportune moment before approaching the vendor calmly, Luca discreetly holds up the shirt and gestures subtly towards the space behind the stall, indicating a need for privacy. The vendor, catching his gesture, nods understandingly, glancing around to ensure no one was nearby. With a reassuring smile, she subtly motions toward a secluded corner behind the stall. Luca acknowledges her with a respectful nod and a slight wai, thanking her silently, then returns to Jet.
“She said we could try it on behind the stall. No rush.”
He extends a hand, but this time, it’s an offer, rather than a demand. Jet pauses, then takes it, allowing Luca to lead him behind the stall, out of sight of the general public.Walls of other stalls create the perfect makeshift changing room, and the light from the street lamp pole in the middle of the otherwise deserted area makes it easy to see.
Jet chuckles. “You're serious about this.”
“Trust me,” Luca hands the shirt over in one deft motion. “I think you’ll like it.”
Jet hesitates before unbuttoning his current shirt. The night air brushes against his skin, hot, but not the same temperature as Luca’s presence. He slips the new shirt over his shoulders, feeling the azure silk sleeves glide down his arms.
“Perfetto.” Luca steps forward, adjusting the collar. “Brings out your eyes.”
The brush of his fingers sends spasms down Jet’s spine and into other places Jet should not be thinking about in public.
The air between them is charged, filled with that familiar magnetic pull. Luca meets Jet’s eyes, giving him a chance to pull away, to say no. Jet doesn’t move. There’s a vulnerability in Luca’s eyes that Jet hasn’t seen before, raw and intriguing.
“Grazie.” The word is out of Jet’s mouth before he can stop it.
Luca grins at him. “You're thanking me in Italian?”
“Yeah.” Jet realizes he’s not just talking about the shirt, but for everything else too. He didn’t have to force himself to enjoy tonight—he’d done it without thinking. “And I mean it.”
“You don’t have to hide anything from me.” Luca murmurs. “Niente giochi, solo noi. No games, just honesty. All you have to do is let me in.”
He leans closer, giving Jet time to decide. Jet doesn’t pull back. The kiss starts as a tentative exploration, then gradually deepens into something more intense. Luca’s touch is electric, but he is also patient, allowing Jet to set the pace. Jet’s shivers have less to do with the cold metal of the light post pressing into his spine, more to do with the feeling of Luca’s hands on him, and Luca’s lips.
His own lips and hands match Luca touch for touch. There’s no fight for control, just natural rhythm. When Luca finally pulls back, he is just as breathless as Jet.
“La decisione migliore della mia vita.” Luca’s thumb moves in a slow circle, tracing along Jet's jawline, then his bottom lip, gauging each reaction. “Best decision I ever made.”
“You said that before.” Jet’s heart is threatening to break through his ribcage.
“I did, and I meant it.” Luca softly confirms. “Tesoro.”
Jet makes his decision. “AB negative.”
Luca’s fingers stop tracing and his brow furrows. “What did you say?”
“My blood type,” Jet clarifies. “It’s AB negative.”
“Ok.” Luca still looks confused. “I never asked you for that.”
“No, but you asked for almost everything else. The least I can do is willingly give you something you didn’t ask for.” Jet leans closer. “This is me letting you in.”
Now Luca is smiling. “You’re annoying.”
“I’m the one who says—”
Luca’s lips shut Jet up. His cologne fills Jet’s head again. He breathes it in. Luca tastes like his cologne: dark, and intense and intoxicating.
This place really is magical.
Luca pulls back a second time, his smile wider than it was before. “Let’s get you back into your comfort zone before the night market decides we've been missing for too long.”
“Where?” Jet’s voice is little more than a breath.
Luca grins. “My place.”
◼️◼️◼️◼️
Jet has only vague memories of Luca’s house. This time, he’s able to take in everything: the hardwood floors, the well worn coffee table, the couch with its cushions neatly in place rather than piled on the floor. The door clicks shut behind them, and the atmosphere shifts. Jet’s heart races. He turns to face Luca, and those black eyes pull him in again, the look in them sending a wave of electricity through Jet’s blood. Luca stays where he is, not pushing, just giving Jet time to make up his mind.
“Luca.” Jet takes a breath. “I really—”
Luca leans in, not giving Jet the opportunity to finish. He doesn’t need to. Jet leans into the kiss, his hands finding their way to Luca’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Heat courses through Jet’s blood when Luca’s hands clamp around his waist, anchoring them together. The kiss deepens as Jet’s hands slide up Luca’s back, tangling in that thick, black hair. Luca guides him backward, very carefully, until they sink onto the couch. His hands roam over Jet's body, nipping and kissing every curve, igniting every nerve ending. Jet presses harder against him, seeking more, reveling in the way Luca’s lips fit perfectly against his.
Luca pulls back, a hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. “This is you letting me in, huh?”
“I already gave you my blood type.” Jet quips. “What else do you want?”
“More.” Luca’s breath is warm against Jet’s skin. His fingertips glide along the curves of Jet’s cheek, his jawline, his mouth. “So much more, tesoro.”
He leans closer, mouth hovering just above Jet’s lips. Jet surges up, pushing Luca back against the couch. A thrill of power rushes through his bloodstream at the feel of Luca trapped beneath him. His hands roam over Luca’s chest, feeling the muscles clench underneath the fabric. Luca twists, flipping them over, tracing butterfly kisses down the side of Jet’s face. Jet sucks in a breath, fingers gliding up Luca’s arms, breathing in Luca’s intense, spicy scent.
Magical.
In a fluid motion, Jet slips from beneath Luca, guiding him off the couch and against the wall, digging his fingers into Luca’s hair to pull him closer. Luca spins, growling against Jet’s mouth. Now the wall bites into Jet’s spine, grounding him while Luca’s hands explore his torso, wanting more. Their movements become more fluid, their kisses more desperate, hungrier, driven by pure instinct. Jet’s fingers skim along the hem of Luca’s shirt, pulling it over Luca’s head and tossing it to the floor. Luca’s own fingers fumble at the buttons on Jet’s shirt, sliding against the azure silk. With a frustrated grunt, Jet pushes Luca back long enough to remove the shirt himself, allowing Luca to pull him away from the wall down to the floor, which vibrates beneath them when Jet pins Luca’s arms above his head.
No. Not the floor.
A phone.
Jet’s phone.
Jet pulls back, yanking the buzzing device out of his pocket. A knot forms in his stomach at the name flashing across the screen: New Message from: KAI.
Luca’s breath brushes against Jet’s ear. “Ignore it.”
Jet hesitates, caught between wanting Luca and wanting to answer the phone. Luca flips them, his mouth melding against Jet’s, pulling him back into that heated intimate bubble. The phone clunks onto the floor as Jet’s hands cup the back of Luca’s neck.
Until a second vibration cuts through the air, sounding more insistent this time.
“Dammit.” Jet groans against Luca’s lips, twisting his head so he can see the screen: New Message from: KAI.
“You’re busy.” Luca nudges the phone with his foot, shoving it across the floor, as far away from them as possible. “Kai can wait.”
Luca’s fingers graze along Jet’s jawline, grounding, enticing. But as he leans in, brushing his lips against Luca’s, the jarring notes of his ringtone reverberate through the room, making the both jump in a way that has nothing to do with their previous activity.
“Persistent little shit, isn’t he?” Luca’s tone walks the fine line between amusement, and annoyance. “You better answer. He won’t stop calling until you do.”
“I know, just—hang on.” Jet tears himself away from Luca, scrambling across the floor toward the phone. “Sorry.”
Luca watches him with a mixture of understanding and disappointment. But there’s something more—a flicker of concern that tightens the knot in Jet’s stomach. His fingers swipe up on the screen, and he answers his little brother’s call. No more distractions.
Not tonight anyway.




"30. Contingency" 
Read from beginning: "1. Ignored"