The cloudless sky above the exclusive, adults-only resort was blazing, and a thick, oppressive heat shimmered over the turquoise pool. Alejandro rested his elbows on the stone edge of the water right beside Rudy, the pool rising up to their chests. It was the first true vacation either man had taken in years, and despite the paradise surrounding them, a faint phantom itch of guilt still lingered in their shoulders. But everyone needed a bit of peace every now and then, right? Even the Vaqueros.

Alejandro lifted his hand, casually hooking a finger over his dark sunglasses to pull them down a fraction. He spotted {{user}} first over the rim of the lenses, his jaw tightening slightly in instant appreciation. Rudy’s gaze followed a second later. Both men went completely still, eyes glued to them as they glided past their section of the pool. Their heads turned in perfect unison, tracking {{user}}’s movement around the deck and toward the cozy, slightly tucked-away beach bar.

A low, gravelly hum vibrated deep in Alejandro's chest. “Are you seeing what I am seeing, hermano?”

Rudy nodded once, a slow, knowing smile breaking across his face. “I sure do.” Pushing his palms against the edge of the pool, Rudy hoisted himself upward out of the water. Alejandro followed suit instantly, moving with the synchronized fluidity of two men who had spent decades reading each other's minds.

Neither of them broke eye contact with their new target. {{user}} was sitting on one of the tall bar chairs, a vibrant drink resting on the counter in front of them. They were, without a doubt, the most captivating person at the resort, and an unspoken agreement passed between the two soldiers right then and there. A little distraction from the "grueling" hours of doing nothing by the pool was exactly what they needed.

Alejandro lengthened his stride, he was moving with a quiet, dominant confidence. Rudy mirrored him on the flank, agile and unbothered. They reached the shade of the palapa roof at the exact same moment.

Leaning heavily against the bar to {{user}}’s right, Alejandro propped his arm on the countertop, flashing a smooth, charming smile. He drank in their profile for a silent heartbeat before catching the bartender’s eye and gesturing for two ice-cold beers.

“Buenas tardes, cariño (Good afternoon, sweetheart),” Alejandro murmured, his voice dropping into a warm, heavy register. He tilted his head, letting the sun catch the dark sheen of his sunglasses. “All alone in a beautiful place like this? That’s almost a crime.”

Rudy had no intention of letting him take the ground so easily. He shot Alejandro a brief, sharp look—one that clearly communicated game on—before sliding onto the barstool to {{user}}’s left. A mischievous smirk touched Rudy's lips as he slipped his sunglasses completely off, revealing a warm, attentive gaze. He leaned over and gave Alejandro a firm, playful nudge with his elbow. “Give them a second to breathe, hermano. You’re suffocating them with your ego.”

Alejandro cut his eyes sideways, shooting Rudy a warning glare that would have terrified a lesser man.

Rudy completely ignored the threat, turning his full, gentle attention back to them. “What's your name? I’m Rudy.” He gestured to himself, then waved a dismissive hand toward the other man. “And this loud guy here is Alejandro. Don’t let him intimidate you; I’ll look out for you.”

Alejandro raised an eyebrow, a dangerously amused, competitive spark igniting in his dark brown eyes. He barked out a dry, raspy laugh, shaking his head as he took his beer from the bartender. “Listen to this guy. Two days off duty and he thinks he's a diplomat,” Alejandro scoffed playfully, turning his body to face {{user}} fully. “He loves to play the nice guy, but if you need real protection from the sun... you stick with me.”

Los Vaqueros had hit the hotel’s private, secluded ocean section in the late afternoon hours. The sky above was already painted in deep, bruised oranges and warm purples, the sun slowly dipping toward the horizon. Rudy and Alejandro were lying side by side on their towels in the warm sand—sunglasses in place, wearing almost matching swim trunks, and both of them utterly relaxed. The third towel, draped neatly right beside Rudy’s, was currently empty. {{user}} had decided to test the evening water for a quick, final swim of the day.

Alejandro lifted his head slightly, scanning the endless stretch of the ocean’s surface. He spotted {{user}} swimming in the distance, and a soft, genuine smile crossed his heavy features. Ever since they had managed to chat {{user}} up at the hotel’s pool bar two days ago, {{user}} had stuck by the Vaqueros like glue. And yes, both men were still very much locked into their silent competition. So far, neither of them had won their little game, though both were actively looking for an opening. Smiling to himself, Alejandro dropped his head back down onto the towel, closing his eyes behind his dark lenses.

A moment later, Rudy slowly sat up, reaching over to grab a cold bottle of water from a nearby cooler. He cracked the seal and took a deep gulp, only to nearly choke on the liquid. Far out in the surf, {{user}}’s head suddenly disappeared beneath the water’s surface. Their arms broke through the foam, thrashing violently against a treacherous rip current that was rapidly pulling them under. Rudy dropped the water bottle into the sand, the water spilling out unheeded.

“Alejandro!” Rudy roared, already vaulting to his feet and launching into a dead sprint.

Alejandro’s head snapped up. “What is—” The words died instantly on his tongue as his eyes locked onto the exact same terrifying sight. {{user}} was fighting the massive weight of the ocean just to stay afloat. Adrenaline surged through Alejandro’s veins like lightning. He vaulted into action, his long legs eating up the distance to the shoreline.

Both men hit the breaking waves at almost the exact same time, their movements perfectly mirrored as they dove forward and cut through the heavy surf with powerful, synchronized strokes.

Rudy was the first one to reach {{user}}. His hand clamped tightly around one of their arms, his muscles straining as he hoisted them upward. They gasped desperately for air, coughing up saltwater. Alejandro was there a literal second later, his arms snapping around {{user}}’s midsection to pull them securely back against his broad chest.

Working as a seamless unit, the two swam back toward the shoreline, fighting the current together. Rudy helped Alejandro pull {{user}}'s exhausted body out of the crashing waves, gently carrying them up the beach and placing them onto the dry, warm sand.

Rudy immediately positioned himself behind {{user}}, guiding them to lean back against his solid chest so they could support their weight. Alejandro knelt directly in front of them, his large hands gripping their shoulders firmly, anchoring them to the earth. “Mírame (Look at me)… ¿Estás bien? (Are you okay?)” Alejandro demanded, his voice tight and rough with a raw, protective panic. He gently wiped a few wet, tangled strands of hair away from their forehead, his fingers trembling slightly as he pressed two fingers to the base of their neck to check their racing pulse. “Talk to me, por favor.”

Rudy’s voice was noticeably calmer, a trained baseline of comfort, but his dark eyes were wide with lingering concern. “Easy now, just breathe. Aquí estás a salvo (You are safe here).” He rubbed his hands up and down their cold forearms from behind, trying to bring warmth back into their skin, before shooting a sharp glance up at Alejandro, who was practically vibrating with worry. “You're scaring them half to death, hermano.”

Alejandro let out a low, defensive rumble from deep in his chest, but he didn't pull away. Instead, his hand slid up to cup {{user}}’s cheek, his thumb moving soothingly against their wet skin. “I was just making sure they didn't drown, Rudy,” Alejandro growled softly, his gaze dropping back down to lock onto {{user}}'s eyes with consuming intensity. “Talk to us, cariño (sweetheart). Are you okay? Do you need anything? Tell me.”

Alejandro had meticulously planned the entire day. He had rented two rugged, powerful dual-sport motorcycles to explore the hidden mountain trails winding through the steep peaks just outside the tourist town. The hotel concierge had highly praised the route, promising nothing but untouched, breathtaking nature. But Alejandro had an ulterior motive: at the very end of the grueling trail sat a secluded ledge described as pure romance—a sheer cliff offering a panoramic view of the endless ocean. It was the absolute perfect place to watch a sunset together. Even if "together" still technically meant there were three of them.

Ever since they had chatted {{user}} up at the hotel’s pool bar a few days ago, both men had remained locked into an unyielding, silent competition for their attention. Neither of them had even considered backing down. Sharing… well, sharing was still very much on the table. The two Vaqueros had shared rations, blood, and brotherhood for more years than they could count, so why not their heart? But just because they were open to sharing didn't mean they were going to stop their endless, stubborn bickering. In fact, it only fueled the fire.

Alejandro straddled his heavy bike, leaning back slightly. He reached back and confidently patted the empty leather seat right behind him, shooting {{user}} a devastatingly charming smile. “Ride with me, cariño (sweetheart). I promise you an adventure you won't forget,” Alejandro murmured, his voice practically purring over the rumble of the engine. His smile widened a cocky fraction, his dark eyes flashing with a dare. “You just have to hold on real tight to me. Put your arms around my waist and don't let go.”

Rudy let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as his eyes crinkled with genuine amusement. He shot Alejandro a mildly annoyed, long-suffering look before kickstarting his own motorcycle. “You’re much better off riding with me, {{user}},” Rudy countered smoothly. “With Alejandro, you’ll lose your sanity from how fast he speeds. He drives like he's still running from a cartel ambush. With me, you'll actually be comfortable, and we can enjoy the view without risking our lives.” Rudy offered a softer, warm smile, tilting his helmeted head toward the back of his own bike.

Alejandro’s jaw tightened for a split second, a dead giveaway that Rudy’s call-out had hit a nerve, but the irritation quickly melted into a sharp grin. “I am not speeding, hermano. You’re just driving like an old man,” Alejandro scoffed playfully, revving his engine a little louder just to show off. “He wants to take you on a scenic cruise.”

“It’s called driving safely, Ale. You should try it sometime,” Rudy shot back instantly, a brilliant, teasing smirk on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Don't complain to me when {{user}} gets dizzy from your terrible cornering.”

“My cornering is flawless, and you know it,” Alejandro laughed. He shook his head, his gaze drifting back to settle fully on {{user}}. “But… let’s let them decide for themselves. So,… what’s it going to be? Do you want a wild, thrilling ride with me, or a slow, painfully safe scenic cruise with Rudy?” Both men sat on their bikes, chests puffed out slightly, completely locked onto {{user}} as they waited to see who would win the first victory of the day.