“Yes!”
“I’ll have Enrique make the arrangements. When do you want to leave?”
“Tomorrow?” Connor was nearly vibrating.
“That’s probably a little too soon, but we’ll see how quickly we can get accommodations.”
Connor rushed around the desk and flung himself into Aleksei’s hurriedly opened arms. “Thanks, Dad.” Connor wiggled out of the hug. “I need to tell Yoshi.” Then he ran out of the office.
I bowed slightly to Aleksei, who shook his head with a smile, and followed Connor out. He had already burst into Yoshi’s office. He was excitedly telling him and Dmitry that they needed to pack their bags.
Connor came running out just as I walked in to see the surprised looked on Yoshi and Dmitry’s faces as they got hit by the tornado that was Connor. I turned quickly as Connor ran down the hall and down the stairs toward the wing that housed the other agents that lived there.
Connor stopped in front of a door and knocked loudly. He huffed and knocked again. I didn’t hear anyone coming, but my sensitive ears picked up the sound of someone typing. Connor got tired of waiting, despite waiting less than a minute since his first knock, and opened the door.
Connor rushed through the short entry hall and into the small living room with a large screen and a desk, among other things, but most specifically a very naked Zafir with one hand on his dick and another on a keyboard at said desk.
“Stop playing with your knob and get packing, Mr. T.” Connor put his hands on his hips like catching Zafir—agent codename Mr. Ti or as Connor liked to call him, Mr. T—in this position, was an everyday occurrence.
Zafir raised an eyebrow ridge at him since he didn’t have any actual hair there. Zafir had had most of his hair removed permanently to not accidentally leave any hairs behind as evidence. It did not dimmish his looks in the least.
“Oh, my gods, are you cybering in Alien Chaos Wars?” Connor gasped. I’d seen Connor and Yoshi play this online game before, and the apartment on the screen was indeed from the game. There was another character with Zafir’s character on the bed. Text was scrolling down the chat feed.
“What I do is none of your business.” I could almost believe the annoyance in Zafir’s voice if it weren’t for how hard his mighty fine dick still was.
“Well, we could stand here and let you finish if you like?” Connor smirked like he’d very much like to watch, but I knew he was just being a brat.
“If that’s what you want.” Zafir gripped his cock again and started typing with his other hand again unphased.
I looked between the two, wondering who would break first. Zafir’s abs flexed as he kept his cool demeanor while he stroked in earnest. His eyes flicked between the screen and Connor. From the skill at which Zafir typed one-handed, I had surmised that he did it often. It was rather impressive.
“Do you think your Daddy will spank you for watching me get off?” Zafir broke their silent challenge.
Connor burst out laughing and turned back toward the entrance. “Probably. We’re going to Paris for Christmas, and we’re leaving tomorrow.”
Zafir turned his mahogany eyes to me in question as I continued to ogle him admiringly. I shrugged. “You have a very nice penis, Zafir. Your lover is lucky.”
Zafir gave a half-smile with a hint of sadness. “Not lucky enough to know its pleasure in person.”
I snorted out a half-laugh in sympathy. “Touché.” I followed Connor out of the apartment with a shake of my head. As soon as I exited, Connor grabbed my arm and walked us toward his office.
“Your mission, Bob, should you choose to accept it,” Connor whispered as we walked.
I laughed. “You’ve been watching too much of that old spy show again.”
“Don’t laugh. You like it too.”
I nodded. “Indeed.”
“Now, listen carefully, Bob. This is important.” Connor pulled me down and whispered out his idea and my mission, should I choose to accept it, of course.
* * *
Paris, France
Sixteen Days till Christmas
Lights twinkled, making the bare trees that lined the Champs Elysée seem full once more in the early evening darkness. This far north, the sun was long set by five. My breath puffed in the chilly air in front of me as I looked down the wide avenue with the Arc de Triumph behind me. The sound of the cars zooming around the large roundabout was dim to my ears as I stood in awe of the sight before me.
Ice glistened on the branches as the smell of—a sharp elbow jabbed my bicep. “Are you going to stand here all evening gaping? I’m freezing my nuts off here, and you promised me lots of mulled wine and fresh churros.”
I side-eyed Yoshi with a huff. “I was imprinting this moment to my memory. Plus, look how pretty it is. Besides, I told you to wear a thicker jacket.”
“Well, if we move, I won’t be so cold, and I didn’t want to look like a marshmallow man.” Yoshi flicked a stand of hair out of his face. He was growing it out again and it was in that awkward stage of too long yet not long enough that annoys most people.
“At least I’m warm and fashionable.” I’d worn a poofy teal coat that went to mid-thigh, toasty flannel lined jeans with fleece-lined boots. I topped off my outfit with matching earmuffs that had cat ears on them and a pair of our special cold weather gloves that kept my hands perfectly warm while not losing any dexterity nor the ability to operate any of our touchscreen electronics.
Yoshi pogoed on his toes, and I looked back over to Bob, who shrugged. “Well, at least let me get some photos first.”
I pulled out my phone, took several shots of the street, then turned and took some of the Arc. I motioned for Francois, the one visible guard, to come closer. I tried to talk Dad into letting us go without guards, but even Yoshi overruled me. We had Francois, and then Darek and Manish were in the crowd pretending to be a couple on vacation. I was positive there were probably two others, but I didn’t want to bother with spotting them.
A small security force had come ahead of us to secure the rental property. It had taken a few extra days to go through the diplomatic channels needed to get permissions for the armed force, so we had more than enough men for separate details. Daddy Oz and Dmitry were off shopping as well and had their own guards. I had insisted if we had to have them, they did too.
“Here, Francois, will you take a picture of us?” I handed over the phone to the confused looking guard. “Sorry. Sorry.” I laughed with a shake of my head. It was so easy when I was around Bob and Yoshi to forget which language we were speaking in. Yoshi and I had been going seamlessly back and forth all day between Japanese and French. Most of the guards we brought spoke French on some level. Some were originally from France like Francois, but his Japanese was nonexistent.
So, I switched back to French. “Sorry. Will you take a few pictures of us, please?”
Francois smiled. “Yes, don’t worry.”
“Sweet.” I handed him my phone and pulled a reluctant Yoshi over. “Come on, Bob, you too.”
Someday I’ll get it through Bob’s head that he’s family and can’t always blend into the background. I yanked Bob close to me and wrapped my arm around his and my other around Yoshi’s.