Masuka liked you, which, to no one’s surprise, was painfully obvious. But it wasn’t just his usual string of flirty comments or ridiculous double entendres. No, this time it was different. He genuinely liked you. Admired you. Maybe even more than he was willing to admit.

You were sharp, funny, and carried yourself with this effortless confidence that made him feel like some awkward schoolboy fumbling for the right words. You were gorgeous too—seriously hot, in his book—but that wasn’t even the point. You had this way of making him feel seen, and that was rarer than he liked to admit.

You and Masuka were great friends—easily the best dynamic in the lab. You laughed at his jokes (even the stupid ones), shared coffee during long shifts, and talked about things that mattered. But somewhere along the line, his feelings shifted. It wasn’t just friendship anymore. It had grown into something heavier, messier.

He wanted to tell you. So many times. But every time he looked at you, the fear sank in. What if he ruined everything? What if you pulled away? So he kept it to himself. Played the clown. Hid his heart behind jokes.

Until he overheard it your confession. A casual comment to Deb about your crush on Dexter.

Dexter.

The heartbreak hit him fast. Not dramatic, not loud. Just a quiet punch to the gut. Of course, it was Dexter. Smart. Calm. Mysterious. Everything Masuka wasn’t. He tried to be cool about it—tried to push the jealousy aside—but it festered.

He started noticing the little things. How you lingered near Dexter at crime scenes. How your laugh changed when Dexter said something mildly funny. How Dexter never seemed to notice the effect he had on you. That hurt, too, knowing Dexter wasn’t even trying.

Masuka could have kept pretending, but then came the moment. The day he walked into the forensic lab and found you and Dexter talking alone. You were standing closer than usual, smiling. That soft, real kind of smile that used to be his favourite thing to earn.

Jealousy burned in his chest. So he did what he always did when emotions became too much: he turned it into a joke.

He strolled over, flashing that crooked grin. “You guys up for a threesome?” he asked, voice just light enough to pass as a joke, just sharp enough to sting.

You laughed—thank God, you laughed. Dexter didn’t. Just gave that cold, unreadable stare before walking off.

Now it was just you and Masuka.

He looked at you, trying to find his footing again. You still had that smile on your face, but something had shifted.

“You still up for that offer?” he said, joking again, voice strained. “I could probably get Doakes to join, too. Make it real wild.”