Xiang's team had been tailing the syndicate across Central Asia for the past three weeks. Xander got the call that they needed backup twelve hours before, and he and his team were there within two.

With a clean-up team picking up the leftover baddies, they were on a jet back to Budapes, where Xander had been stationed out of the past month. Talon sprawled out across several seats and passed out immediately, but Hawk sat in the back with Nicks and Tennyson, talking about how the syndicate's guards had been following them the whole time.

Xander listened in with mild interest. Sounded like an intense mission.

Xiang sat in one of the innermost seats near the cockpit of the jet. He didn't notice Xander watching him.

Nicks was crowing at Hawk, interested in the story. They didn't get much sleep the last few nights, Hawk said.

Xiang looked like it. He was staring at the floor like it had insulted him, blinking and fighting to keep his eyes open. Xander stared at him and wondered how long it would be before Xiang noticed. There were dark circles under his eyes, and Xander had to guess how much of it was from lack of sleep and how much was actual bruising.

Xiang's chin slipped slowly toward his chest before he jerked it back up, his eyes wide.

If it weren't mildly concerning—what with the physical exertion and poor conditions Xiang and his team had been in the past few days—Xander would think it was almost cute.

But given the circumstances, Xander knew Xiang was pushing himself too far. There wasn't even a good reason for it; he should be sleeping like Talon.

Xander moved the few seats over to sit beside Xiang. Xiang looked at him, surprised, and Xander could see how red his eyes were now.

"You should sleep," Xander said. Xiang rolled his eyes half-heartedly, waving him off.

"Not yet."

Xander raised an eyebrow. "Then when?"

"When we're safe."

"Xiang," Xander said, tilting his head. "You are safe." He glanced at the others, making sure they were all preoccupied. "When did you sleep last?"

"Well, what time is it?"

"It's 2:30 AM Astana time."

Xiang thought for a long moment. "Thirty hours ago."

Xander tsked before shucking off his jacket, warmed by his body heat, and putting it over Xiang's shoulders. He slung his arm over Xiang's shoulder as well and pulled him against himself.

Xiang's shoulders tensed, even as he leaned into Xander's warmth. "Xander," he said, as sharply as he could muster. He nodded toward the others.

Their relationship wasn't public, but it wasn't precisely private either. Public displays of affection were strictly off limits as far as Xiang was concerned, but Xander had to wonder if Xiang's knack of wearing his shirts to the hotel continental breakfast—in plain sight of the rest of the team—counted in Xiang's mind.

"What? Just one triple X taking care of another. You need to sleep." Xander put his hand on the side of Xiang's head and pushed until it rested on Xander's shoulder. Xiang mumbled some protest, but didn't pull away.

Xander leaned his weight toward Xiang so he could rest his head against the wall of the holding area without pushing Xiang into an uncomfortable position.

Slowly, he felt more and more tension drain out of Xiang, his breaths evening out. It was relaxing.

Xander didn't worry when Xiang went on missions. His life would be hell if he did.

So it wasn't worry that made holding Xiang so calming to Xander. Something else. He didn't want to put his finger on it, really. He rested his eyes, his cheek against the top of Xiang's head. He might even have napped as well, if the jet wasn't so damn cold without his jacket.

A bit of turbulence woke Xiang briefly, but he turned his face in against the crook of Xander's neck and slept once more. Xander suppressed a smile. His soft, warm breaths against Xander's neck tickled a little.

Xiang would probably end up in his room that night, and would borrow some of Xander's clothes to sleep in. He should insist that they wash up first—Xiang was covered in grime from the field work and the intense stand-off of the last few hours. He would sleep better if he was clean and warm. He was tired enough that he'd let Xander be the big spoon and wrap him up in his arms and hold him. Xander ignored the feeling in his chest that the thought evoked.

The others were still chatting just as before, so he prayed none of them would bring this up later. Maybe they didn't even notice.

When the landing sequence was announced, Xander gently nudged Xiang. Xiang groggily acknowledged him, sitting up in his own seat.

Xiang stayed awake as they landed, even if he blearily bounced as they touched down and blinked much too slowly to be considered entirely conscious.

Xander looked over at the others, phishing for someone to make knowing eye contact with him. No one did: maybe they were actually too entirely engrossed in their conversations to take notice of how Xander and Xiang had been huddled together for the entire flight.

Xiang, Talon and Hawk would report tomorrow, most likely. The way Talon stumbled off the jet, and even Hawk was trudging along, there was no way an immediate debrief would happen.

Xander let the others file out first, watching for anyone taking a look back at the two of them. No one did. Which meant they knew they shouldn't—he'd have to visit them all tomorrow and uh, convince them to delete some photos, probably. He'd worry about that later.

He turned back to Xiang, whose eyes were already slipped shut again. Xander bit back his smile again, instead running his fingers through Xiang's hair to wake him up.

"You got plans tonight, babe?" he teased.

Xiang swatted at him weakly. "Fuck you."

Xander hummed. "I was just thinking how I've got a big warm bed with room for two."

Xiang sighed, quiet and long suffering. "Let's go."

They didn't cross paths with anyone on their way to Xander's room.

"I'll get some clothes for you," Xander said when he closed the door behind them. "You can take a shower, if you want."

Xiang rubbed at his eyes, but nodded. He stripped, handing Xander back his jacket and throwing his own clothes into a corner and going into the bathroom. He'd be quick, Xander knew, so he grabbed out a pair of sweats for himself and for Xiang, changing into his own sleep clothes and pulling the neatly made bed apart. He pulled out his phone in the meantime.

He had only one notification. From the Triple X group message.

It was from Adele. An image attachment with only a heart emoji as a caption. Xander took a deep breath and opened the image so he could see: it was him in the jet wearing just his t-shirt, arm around Xiang who was leaning his head on his shoulder, jaw slack. Xander would have to berate Adele tomorrow, but for tonight he just saved the image to his phone. He would not tell Adele how impressive it was that she apparently got so close to them without Xander even noticing her.

He heard the shower knob squeak and the water stop, so he locked his phone and put it on the night stand. He listened as Xiang moved around in the bathroom and appeared a moment later. Xiang discarded his towel and pulled on the sweats and that Xander put at the foot of the bed for him, and turned out the lights.

The bed dipped as Xiang crawled in beside Xander and Xander reached out to him to help pull the heavy covers over his shoulders. Xiang's skin was warm from his shower. Xander pillowed his head on his bicep, arms curling around Xiang's back. Xiang's one arm curled between their chests and his other laid lazily over Xander's waist.

"Good night, babe," Xander said. He leaned in to kiss somewhere on Xiang's face—his eyes hadn't quite adjusted yet but he thought he found Xiang's cheekbone. Xiang hummed.

"G'night."