WARNING!
This chapter contains a slur used against LGBTQ+ people that I would never use or say in real life, and I debated using it here, but I believe it's important for the scene. I wanted to warn people ahead of time who may be triggered by it. It occurs shortly after the dinner scene while Matt and Dev are walking together. Below is a summary of the chapter for anyone who wants to skip ahead or avoid the chapter entirely.
CHAPTER SUMMARY: Matt meets Dev at his apartment. Dev is distracted by a phone call from his mother after which he relates his frustration to Matt about her refusal to leave London where she lives alone, and move to New York. Matt suggests they go to dinner. Meanwhile, Fox comes home from a board meeting at her father's company, Cyberbiotics, and gets ready for bed, but something trips her, and she nearly has a catastrophic fall, but she catches herself in time, though she's shaken by the event as she can't explain how she tripped. Then we're back to Matt and Dev who are walking back to Dev's apartment after dinner. They talk about their different family dynamics, and Matt explains the truth of how he was kicked out of the FBI, and is surprised when Dev expresses familiarity with the Illuminati. Matt laments that he has to hide his sexuality, and they share a moment together and nearly kiss for the first time, when a delivery boy on a bicycle cycles past and shouts a hateful slur at them. The delivery boy is distracted by his taunting and swerves his bike into an oncoming taxi. He's wounded severely but not fatally. Matt and Dev, despite the delivery boy's abhorrent behavior, help him while they wait for an ambulance. Matt has to report the incident which takes time, but then realizes his deep feelings for Dev, and races back to his apartment where he and Dev admit their feelings to each other and sleep together for the first time.
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September 13, 1997
8:00 p.m.
Chelsea, Manhattan
Matt knocked on Dev's door and anxiously waited for him to answer. There was always something awkward about standing alone in a hallway, staring at a closed door. One of Dev's neighbors, a snooty looking older gentleman, walked up the corridor to his own apartment and eyed him judgmentally as he fumbled with his keys. Matt tipped his head casually in greeting, but the man only scowled in response before brusquely stepping across his threshold and out of sight with a sharp slam. Matt rolled his eyes.
In the silence that followed, Matt could make out footsteps from within Dev's apartment. A few seconds later, the knob turned and Dev finally appeared. He was chatting rapidly on a cordless phone in a language Matt didn't recognize with a perturbed look on his face. Dev wordlessly waved him in, and Matt entered, shutting the door behind him.
He had never been to Dev's place before, even though they'd been seeing each other sporadically for the past month and a half… when Matt's schedule allowed for it. Usually they met up somewhere public, with the focus on entertainment or conversation. Restaurants, galleries, museums. Though their attraction had been immediate, both sensed a hesitation in the other. A desire to savor each other's company without complicating it with sex. Or, in Matt's case, without sabotaging it. So when Dev proposed meeting up at his apartment this time, Matt felt rather surprised and, if he was being honest with himself, a little nervous.
But now that he was here, he couldn't pass up the chance to take a look around. You could tell a lot about a person based on how they chose to ornament and furnish their home. Dev's building was in a slightly nicer neighborhood than Matt's, and his apartment was noticeably bigger. He was obviously doing well for himself, Matt thought. Or perhaps he had been lucky and invested in the right place at the right time like Elisa had with her loft in SoHo.
Matt had been less lucky with his apartments given that his last one had been blown up by Pal Joey. Insurance covered the damages, but his immediate need coupled with limited options, forced him to move to a smaller unit that cost more than what he'd been paying before.
Dev continued to talk animatedly over the phone as Matt looked surreptitiously around his place. The entire space was beautiful and inviting. Matt's natural curiosity clawed at him, making him desperate to explore further, but he restrained himself, respecting Dev's privacy, and focused on the photos and art displayed around the tidy living space instead. He didn't see much of Dev's own work, save for one piece he recognized from the Gladstone Gallery exhibition. He must have been particularly proud of that one, and with good reason. It was a stunning black and white portrait of a man. There was nothing overtly erotic about the way the man was posed or dressed, but there was something in his expression that evoked sensuality or an intimate moment between the subject and the photographer, and it made him wonder if the man in the photo and Dev had something beyond just the photographer and subject relationship. More like what he and Dev had. Though he wasn't entirely sure what he and Dev even had together, exactly.
He contemplated the photo some more and realized that he longed to be looked at by Dev the way the subject in the photo was looking at the man behind the camera.
He longed to kiss him. He wanted that and more but every time he thought to make a move, he hesitated. He didn't want to fuck things up with Dev by going too fast.
But was he running the risk of losing him by going too slow?
"There's nothing left for you there," he heard Dev say from the other room in exasperated English, followed by a long pause, and then, "I'm being stubborn?!"
He wasn't trying to eavesdrop on Dev's conversation, but it was hard not to.
Then he heard a beep as Dev ended his call which he punctuated with a colorful string of words in a different language before he made an appearance.
"That sounded rough," Matt said when Dev finally joined him.
Dev shrugged.
"My mum…" he began, then sighed with exasperation. "I'm supposed to visit her in London for a couple of weeks at the beginning of November, but I'm trying to convince her to return with me to the States."
Matt nodded. Calls with his own mother often left him exhausted, too. She would regularly call him offering to set him up with her dentist's niece or her neighbor's granddaughter. He always declined, saying he was too busy to date anyone, and then she'd lament about how old she was getting and that she didn't have any grandchildren yet. All of her friends apparently had herds of grandchildren, but somehow she was still just a poor widow with no grandchildren of her own to spoil. When he eventually managed to end the call with her, he'd feel frustrated and guilty. Especially since his mom didn't know the truth; he was a gay man, and he didn't want children. He had nothing against them, they were just something he didn't have time or need for in his life. He'd dodged a number of his mother's calls lately, but he couldn't avoid her forever.
Dev let out a sigh, which pulled Matt from his own brooding thoughts.
"I've been worried about her living alone since my dad died, but she refuses to leave," Dev explained. "Even my younger sister is here in the States, but our mum refuses to relocate. So I split my time between continents. But my apartment is here, my studio is here, my life is here… I have nothing back in London other than my mother."
"That's a tough spot," Matt said empathetically. "I'm sorry."
Dev shrugged.
"Family, you know?" he said, and Matt did.
Matt placed a kind hand on Dev's shoulder, and then felt self-conscious about it and let it drop back down as he mentally kicked himself for being chicken-shit. Dev noticed the photo Matt had been looking at but didn't say anything about it as the quiet stretched out between them, and Matt found himself stumbling for something to say to break the silence.
"What language were you speaking? I couldn't place it."
"Tibetan," Dev answered.
"I thought you were Indian?" Matt asked, then suddenly felt a little embarrassed by the presumptiveness of his question.
Dev nodded reassuringly.
"Partially. My father is Bengali and my mother is Tibetan. They met in London where I was later born."
"Oh," Matt said, a little surprised, unable to frame a better response.
He almost mentioned Elisa had been to Tibet, but then he realized that would open up a whole can of worms that he wouldn't be able to explain, so he kept it to himself.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Dev asked.
Matt could tell Dev was still tense, but he was relieved by the suggestion, and pounced on the opportunity for a change of scenery. "Yeah, how do you feel about Lebanese food? I know a fantastic place nearby," Matt offered.
"Love it. Let's go," Dev said enthusiastically as he moved to a closet to get a jacket.
...
...
Fox returned to the castle after a long, tiring day, and now that she was home, she wanted nothing more than to check on her son, maybe take a bath, and fuck her husband.
Her morning had started with an hours-long flight review that was required every twenty-four months to keep her pilot's license, and then a lengthy meeting at her father's company, Cyberbiotics, where she was still a shareholder despite her attempt at a hostile takeover. Normally she didn't go to the meetings. Her presence wasn't exactly wanted by most of the other board members, and she usually had other matters on her plate. But oddly, her father had asked her to go this time, explaining that he wasn't feeling up to going himself. Truthfully, he didn't make it to meetings anymore due to his rapidly failing health. Placating her father wasn't typically her style, but for some reason, she obliged this time.
Perhaps she was trying to feel more connected to her father. He had so little time left...
Or perhaps she was just looking for a distraction.
Although her day had been full, and taxing in many respects, the thrill wasn't there. Not that she should expect much excitement from a board meeting, but still, she was hoping for something, anything. She felt weighted down… and bored.
Fox's fingers subconsciously traced the turquoise tattoo around her right eye. So much had changed. She suddenly found herself missing her days as a member of The Pack. At least that was exciting. Many probably thought she had given up work since becoming a mother, especially given her vast new fortune, but she probably worked even harder now than before. And while her husband had his endeavors and ambitions, she also had hers. From time to time, she even advised on TV and movies that were being shot in Manhattan. She had no interest in being a TV star again, but she was a really good stunt coordinator. Perhaps, she'd go into directing or producing. The thought amused her.
She knew Alex would be asleep by now, but she wanted to see him anyway and say goodnight. She cracked open his door and was comforted by the sound of his white noise machine and the soft glow of his nightlight by his rocket-shaped bed. She silently tiptoed over and kissed him on the head before retreating from the room.
She quietly shut the door behind her, and then walked toward her husband's office. She poked her head in and saw him up late talking on the phone. One of the TV monitors on the wall had Alex's room on display so he could keep an eye on him while he slept, and it warmed her to see how often his gaze darted over to that particular screen. He gave her a brilliant smile when he saw her, and she smiled in return before shutting the door and heading to their bedroom.
Based on his tone and the tenor of the conversation, it didn't sound like he'd be free anytime soon. Too bad. She really needed that fuck.
Then again, a good night's sleep was also sounding more and more attractive. Even a bath was losing its appeal in comparison. Once in their bedroom, she kicked off her Manolo Blahnik pumps and shrugged off her beautifully tailored blazer, the grand bed before her now the main object of her desire. Her mind and body had switched to autopilot as she crossed the opulent room in a sleepy haze… when a section of ground suddenly felt like it had jutted up in front of her. She hadn't been paying attention and immediately lost her footing and found herself rapidly falling toward the hard, tile floor.
Her old training and reflexes kicked in, and she caught herself with her hands, tucking into a ball, and rolling instead of hitting the ground in a way that could have caused injury as well as pain.
She sprang back to her feet, her heart pounding. She was wide awake now. She stared back at the floor. There wasn't an uneven tile, crumpled rug, or anything else obvious in her path. She had apparently tripped on her own two feet.
But she had definitely felt her foot catch, like something had been placed right in front of her on the ground that she couldn't see. She cautiously walked back over the spot where she had tripped and felt around for anything that may have caused her fall. Alex wasn't just walking, but running now, and she didn't want him to get hurt by some hidden obstruction, but there was nothing she could see or feel that could have caused her to stumble like that.
Although puzzled, and a little unsettled, she gave in to the siren song of her bed and need for sleep. Her logical mind wouldn't let her linger on such things, so she brushed the incident off as distracted thoughts and over-tired clumsiness. But the sense of unease remained.
...
...
Over dinner, Dev had seemed distant, like there was a lot on his mind, and Matt didn't want to push him or butt into his family problems, so their conversation was mostly small talk. At least the food had been good, even if the date felt like it was floundering. Eventually the check came, and, and Matt hoped a little air and a nighttime stroll as a digestif would relax them both.
"Are you close with your family?" Dev asked Matt out of the blue as they were walking back to Dev's apartment.
Matt glanced obliquely at him, a little startled by the question considering how shallow the topics of conversation had been over dinner.
"Not particularly. I don't speak much with any of my extended family. I'm an only child, so it's just my mom now. I love her, but she doesn't even know I'm gay, so no… I wouldn't say we're close."
"Hmm, I'm not sure if I would prefer that or not. I love them dearly, but my family is constantly in each other's business. I can't tell my sister anything without my mom later getting on the phone and getting on my back about it, or vice versa."
Matt laughed lightly at that.
"At least they seem to be supportive," he said wistfully.
"They try," Dev said with a smile. "They don't always understand, but they do their best, I think."
Matt made a light sound of agreement.
"How did you explain being dismissed from the FBI if your mum doesn't know you're gay?" Dev asked, going back to what Matt had shared when they first met for coffee.
Matt exhaled as he weighed how much to tell Dev.
"There's more to that story than I've told you…" he said.
Dev gave him a nonplussed look that meant Matt was clearly stating the obvious, and then he waited expectantly for further explanation, signaling he was not about to drop the subject.
Okay, here we go, Matt told himself, throwing caution to the wind. "So… there's this clandestine organization called the Illuminati who—"
"The Illuminati?" Dev interrupted, startled, his eyes wide with recognition.
"You've heard of them?" Matt asked, astonished.
"I've heard a few things about them. Rumors, mostly, enough to know to steer clear of them," Dev said cautiously.
Matt reappraised him, surprised that he knew about them at all, regardless of his career history. It made him curious, and if he was honest, a bit suspicious as well. Most who'd heard of the Illuminati brushed them off as conspiracy theory nonsense. Those who didn't had a good reason to believe in their existence. So how did Dev know enough about them to be cautious of them? What had he seen or experienced? He made a mental note to investigate further, when the opportunity was right.
Matt cleared his throat. "When I was with the FBI, I was a little overeager to prove their existence, and I wound up on their radar. Unbeknownst to me at the time, my partner was Illuminati and had been intentionally assigned to me to keep me off their trail, but I still managed to get too close." Matt paused and discreetly gauged Dev's reaction before continuing. "My then boyfriend, who was also FBI, got caught cheating on me with another man, and because you couldn't be FBI and gay back then, they blackmailed him into revealing my sexuality to my superiors in order to save his job, which gave the FBI the leverage they needed to dismiss me."
"My god… Matt," Dev said appalled, taking Matt's hand in his comfortingly.
Matt tried to ignore how good it felt just to have Dev hold his hand, along with that odd sensation that he always got when they touched. Almost prickling, but pleasantly so. He wondered if Dev felt it, too.
"At the time, I thought it was all my fault that I had been outed. I only found out recently how it all went down… but I'd always suspected there was more at play there; I'd always been so careful."
Dev gave his hand a squeeze.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"I'm okay now, but it knocked me off my feet for a bit… I didn't work for two years, drained my life savings, and I turned to alcohol in a way that spiraled out of control," Matt admitted.
"I've noticed that you don't drink, but I didn't want to pry," Dev mentioned.
"I haven't had one in four years," Matt confessed.
"That's something to be proud of," Dev said sincerely.
"Thanks… I'm just glad my dad didn't have to see me go through all of that. I think I took years off my mom's life during that time, and she still doesn't even know the whole story. She doesn't know the real me, or how that played into all of it."
"Family is complicated," Dev commiserated.
"Sometimes I get so tired that I just want to say, 'Fuck it!' tell the whole world, and damn the consequences… but those consequences are terrifying. So I don't let the mask slip. Not with most people, anyway."
Matt stopped walking and turned to face Dev, their hands still interlaced, an adjacent street light casting a golden glow over both of them. "How do you do it? How can you be so… you?" Matt asked, his voice hitching slightly.
Dev sighed, feeling the weight of the question. "There's a little more understanding, even almost an expectation, in the art world," he began, "but I wasn't out when I was traveling as a photojournalist. My family knew, sure, but that was it. There are some places in the world that are even less tolerant than the States, and I had to adapt and blend in. Because you're right. It is terrifying. We can't always be free to be who we truly are… not even me, despite appearances," Dev said with a smile.
Matt thought about Dev's revelation, and without a word, they both started walking again, their feet moving in lockstep. "It's exhausting," Matt said finally. "To play straight at work andin every aspect of my life."
"Not every aspect. Not with me," Dev reminded him gently.
"No. Not with you," Matt said quietly, and he gave Dev's hand a squeeze, realizing they had walked several blocks hand in hand by that point.
Dev suddenly stopped, causing Matt to look up and see that they were standing in front of Dev's building. He knew they'd covered some distance, but he hadn't realized how close they were already. Normally Matt's sense of distance and direction were spot on, thanks to his line of work, but with Dev, his detective skills often felt sidelined. Now at their destination, Matt found himself filled with disappointment at the thought their date was over already.
"Do you want to come up?" Dev boldly asked him, catching Matt off guard.
More than anything, Matt thought, but he found himself at a crossroads. He'd been trying really hard to go slow with Dev, to not jump immediately into bed with him, despite the intense attraction he felt between them. Dev was the first man since Elliot that he'd wanted to get to know better—more than just physically. He felt at ease and joyful whenever they spent time together, and he hated to say goodbye every time they parted. He knew if he slept with Dev there would be no going back for him. He felt it in his bones. It's why he hadn't even kissed him yet. He knew if he did, he wouldn't want to stop there, and he had been afraid to take that leap.
But he didn't want to be afraid anymore.
Dev looked at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Instead, Matt put his hand on his face, cupping his cheek, feeling the rasp of his short beard against his palm. He could see the sudden flash of excitement in Dev's eyes as he leaned in to kiss him, which sent Matt's own pulse racing.
"Fucking faggots!" someone yelled in their direction.
Matt immediately pulled away from Dev, the kiss ending before it could even begin. All the burgeoning feelings of warmth and promise were instantly shattered by those two ugly words, instinctively sending Matt into fight or flight mode. He shielded Dev with his body and quickly scanned his surroundings for the source of the voice, searching for the possible threat. A delivery boy in gray sweats and a backwards cap rode past them on a bicycle, his expression twisted in a hateful sneer. Swerving slightly, he threw the styrofoam takeout box he was supposed to be delivering in their direction instead, but it missed and hit the ground near their feet, breaking open, sending the steaming contents spilling all over the pavement.
"Wonder how he's going to explain that to his boss," Dev said ruefully.
Matt kept his eyes on the delivery boy as he pedaled away, making sure he wasn't planning to circle back and harass them further. The young man looked over his shoulder and cackled derisively. And because he wasn't looking ahead, he didn't see that his bike had drifted into the other lane—right into an oncoming taxi.
The driver had no time to hit the brakes before the taxi slammed into the bicycle and its rider. The delivery boy rolled over the hood of the vehicle, smashed into the windshield, breaking the glass in a spiderweb pattern, before bouncing off the roof and onto the street.
"Oh my god!' Dev gasped. Without thinking or uttering a word, both he and Matt ran down the street to the scene of the accident.
The bike frame was mangled, bent in half, part of it under the front wheel of the vehicle. Matt knelt down next to the delivery boy. He was semi-conscious, and he had cuts and abrasions all over his torso. One of his shoes had even been knocked off from the impact and was lying in the gutter.
The driver of the taxi got out of his cab and stood horrified, clearly in shock by what had happened.
"I could not stop!" he said, his voice heavily accented and cracking with distress. "He pulled out in front of me!"
"It's alright. You're not at fault. We saw what happened," Matt explained calmly, trying to ease the poor man's fears. He took out his badge and held it up to the taxi driver. "I need you to use your radio to call for an ambulance."
The driver nodded and got back into his cab and used his two-way radio to call into dispatch. Matt glanced at the delivery boy's wounds, assessing the extent of the damage to figure out what needed the most immediate attention. The delivery boy groaned and opened one eye, the other was bruised and already starting to swell. Blood was trickling down his forehead from a laceration on his scalp. He tried to get up, but he was weak and disoriented and couldn't even prop himself up onto his arms.
Matt put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Sir, I'm Detective Matt Bluestone. You've been hit by a car, but help is on the way."
"I think his femur is broken," Dev pointed out.
Matt glanced at his leg, noticing something protruding from the inside of his jeans in the middle of his thigh. The fabric around it was growing dark, soaking with blood.
"Looks like a compound fracture," Matt agreed. "I don't think his femoral artery has been damaged or there would be a lot more blood, but we still need to slow the bleeding."
Neither of them had a first-aid kit with them, so Dev stripped off the cleanest thing he had, which was unfortunately his new jacket, and tied it around the delivery boy's leg, right above the break. He was careful not to move the limb and cause any further injury, but the delivery boy still cried out in pain and tried to sit up again.
"Hold still," Matt ordered him. "What's your name, kid?"
"B-Brad… fuck, you're a cop?" he stammered, terrified and in pain.
"It's okay, Brad. Try to stay calm. An ambulance is on its way. This is allgoing to be okay," Matt said, perhaps a little sternly.
"Oh, god… my bike," Brad said, his alarm escalating further as he noticed his mangled bicycle in the street. "My boss is going to kill me."
"Good thing the car you swerved into didn't," Matt said ironically.
"Fuck," Brad whimpered, and he rested his head back against the asphalt and squeezed his lids closed, trying to keep the blood out of his eyes.
"Fun date, right?" Dev whispered discreetly in Matt's ear while keeping pressure on Brad's leg.
Matt gave him a wry, almost wincing smile and shook his head.
After the ambulance arrived and took Brad to the hospital, Matt took the taxi driver's statement and then drove his own car, which had been parked by Dev's building, to the police station to file an incident report. He knew he'd have to omit the hideous words thrown his direction seconds before the accident, as well as the true reason he'd been with Dev that evening, confident Brad would also refrain from disclosing such information out of fear of the repercussions. Before departing, Matt had said his goodbyes to Dev, knowing the stress and chaos of what had just transpired had effectively put an end to their date.
Once the paperwork was finally finished, Matt pulled on his trench coat and glanced at his watch as he walked out of the station. It was nearly midnight, but he couldn't stop thinking about Dev. How he'd jumped in to help without question, even though the young man who'd been injured had just hurled hateful slurs and cheap takeout in their direction, completely unprovoked. Dev hadn't flinched or recoiled at the sight of blood and injury, and he'd stayed with him to help render aid until Matt finally told him to go home and get some rest. Even then, he could tell that Dev had almost refused.
Matt also thought about the moment before their evening went sideways, when he had been about to kiss Dev. He replayed it over and over in his mind. The way Dev had looked at him. Needful and wanting. Nervous but excited.
He paused mid-step on his way out to his car, tossing his keys in his hand agitatedly. Maybe it wasn't too late.
He picked up his pace and jogged out to his car, then he drove over to Dev's place in Chelsea, hoping he wasn't bothering him at this late hour. He knocked softly in case he was asleep, but Dev opened the door, a look of surprise on his face.
"Matt?"
"I forgot something," he replied.
"What?" Dev asked, curiously.
Matt stepped forward and cupped Dev's face, his thumb on his jaw, his fingers just below his ear on his neck. Dev inhaled sharply, but didn't pull back or shy away as Matt pressed the tall, solid frame of his body against his. Dev looked up at him, his eyes large and expectant, and Matt leaned in.
"I don't do relationships," Dev said abruptly, just before Matt pressed his lips to his.
"Uh… okay," Matt said, confused, stepping back slightly.
"I never liked the idea of being tied down," Dev continued.
"I'm not trying to—" Matt started to explain, but Dev cut him off.
"Until I met you," he finished. "You're this goofy, tall, handsome, fucking cop I met at a fundraiser during a hostage situation, of all places, and at first I thought, you could at least be a bit of fun. But then I got to know you, and you're so odd and enigmatic, and you've taken me completely off-guard, and I'm—"
Matt cut Dev off as he closed the distance between them and kissed him. And that spark he'd felt every time they'd surreptitiously touched or held hands, exploded between them like fireworks.
"I'm crazy about you, too," Matt said breathlessly, finishing Dev's sentence once the kiss had ended.
Then they kissed once more, and Dev made a deep, needful sound as he gripped the lapels of Matt's trench coat and pulled him in closer, his tongue exploring Matt's hungrily, until he pulled away again, catching his breath.
"I think I could fall pretty hard for you," Dev whispered, and he looked up at him with those bright green eyes that had haunted Matt since the first time he'd stared into them.
"I think it's already too late for me," Matt whispered hoarsely in reply.
Without another word, Dev pulled him into his apartment, and shut the door behind them.
...
...
Morning light fell through the wide slatted blinds on Dev's bedroom window, leaving bands of golden light on the bed and the two entwined lovers upon it.
Matt woke up to the sensation of arms tightening around his waist and kisses being pressed against his shoulder and neck.
"Good morning," he said as he rolled over onto his back and looked up at Dev hovering above him, noting that his gorgeous green eyes seemed extra bright this morning. Matt brushed a lock of Dev's shoulder-length hair out of his face before pulling him down and kissing him.
"Hmm, good morning to you, too," Dev said as he slid his hand down beneath the sheets and grabbed his new paramour's dick.
Matt groaned and reached out for another embrace, but Dev rolled off him and snatched his camera off the side table and took a photo of Matt as he lay naked, his torso and head propped up on one arm, his hair rakishly disheveled.
"Hey," Matt protested as he reached for the camera.
Dev smiled and jerked it out of reach. "I told you I wanted you in one of my photos," he said.
Matt pulled a doubtful face.
"You look beautiful in this light," Dev said. "I feel like I only see you at night… when you're always carrying the weight of the city on your shoulders. Somehow, you look different during the day. Younger, more carefree."
Matt crawled over and on top of him, pushing Dev back against the bed. He kissed him soundly, carefully prying the camera out of his hands and setting it back on the side table, out of reach. It would be several more hours before Matt finally left the warmth of Dev's bed and apartment. Only then would Dev realize the roll of film had left with him.