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Jay's always had a bit of a thing for competence. It's just about the only thing that he'd prioritize over a good body; shit like competence is something you're born with, something that sticks with you forever, doesn't wither away against the test of time. He admires people that epitomize it, but they piss him off something bad too, because most of his life he's spent his time wishing he had more of it, but that just isn't the way he's wired.
What he does have is recklessness; this burning need to say whatever and do whatever, never thinking about it too hard. When it comes to rolling with the punches, Jay's able to keep up with the best of them, because they never know what he's going to come at them with. Half the time Jay doesn't even know what he's about to do until he's already halfway through doing it.
"You know I'm like, forty-two percent in love with you, right?" They're sitting at Barney Greengrass', because it's Passover and Jay's always thought of himself as an honorary Hebrew, at least when it comes to food. Their orders are gonna be brought over any minute now, then they'll eat while they wait for their waitress to wrap up her shift so they can take her into HQ.
Kay's staring out the window they're seated against, frowning hard into the glass, probably still pissed that Jay's making him pay for lunch. "Seventy-six percent," Jay amends. Kay's mouth ticks up a little, making Jay grin back at him, smug.
"When are you gonna stop tellin' me shit like that?" Kay asks, like they're talking about anything else in the goddamn universe.
It pisses Jay off more than he'd care to admit — he may have been lowballing those estimates a little bit, but just because he's reckless doesn't mean that he doesn't have any self-preservation. "Why can't you just be fucking normal about this?"
"I'm no good at normal," Kay says, matter-of-fact. He runs his knuckles along the edge of the table a few times before hunching over the top of it, leaning into Jay's space. "Know what? There's only one way we can do this, and you aren't gonna like it."
Jay's hackles start rising, because he's a grown ass man and fuck Kay for thinking that he knows what Jay wants, especially when every time Jay tries to bring it up, Kay shoots him down like it's his job. As the months have gone on, Jay's found that this is just about the only thing he wants anymore, something solid and tangible between them, Kay looking out for him just as much as he always does, but with something else there too. If Kay weren't such a stubborn old asshole, he'd just fucking accept that he probably wants it just as much as Jay does.
That recklessness inside him flares up, fuels his words when he says, "Know what? Fine, we'll do it your one way, then." Kay doesn't so much as blink. Jay rolls his lips into his mouth and stares right back, until something occurs to him and he has to ask, "So? You gonna tell me what the catch is?"
Their waitress shows up right then, an Arquillian whose passport expired three weeks ago. For the first time in a long time, they're dealing with somebody without some sort of motive. The girl just hadn't noticed the date; she's more than willing to come in with them, but she hadn't wanted to leave until someone came in to relieve her of her shift.
"It doesn't work like that," he finally answers. Kay takes both their plates from her with that closed-mouth smile of his, the one that makes his eyes scrunch up.
They eat and then haul the waitress back to HQ. After they check her in, Kay waves Jay into the locker room, letting Jay walk in first before following him in, closing the door behind them and keeping his hand pressed against it, palm open and spread wide.
"Are you absolutely sure?" Kay asks him. "About the thing," he clarifies, as if there was any way that Jay had been thinking of anything but that. Jay nods, opens his mouth to say as much but Kay cuts him off.
"Keep your mouth shut there, slick; you'll ruin it." Kay slips a hand into his suit jacket and pulls out his neuralyzer, flicking it open as he slides on his shades.
The last thing Jay remembers is the flash going off, but then Kay tells him to forget that too.
▃
They get made by the latest alien thing they're supposed to corral, some freaky dolphin thing that sorta looks like one of those hairless underwear models if you squint your eyes just right. It's a vicious thing, and their backup isn't due to show up for another five minutes, which is mostly Jay's fault, because he told them that he and Kay could handle it on their own — which, well.
Kay pulls him into an alleyway, both of them stepping in a couple feet to avoid the illuminating glare of the streetlight. Their mark is maybe thirty seconds away from catching up to them, and as-is they're sitting ducks.
"Get on your knees," Kay hisses. He's frantically undoing the clasp of his buckle, pulling the snap of his pants open and tugging down the zipper.
Jay stands frozen, wondering just what the fuck is going on, when Kay visibly loses patience with him and plants a hand on his shoulder, uses all his strength to push down. Jay goes easily, sinking down onto his knees, tiny pieces of gravel digging themselves into his knees through the fabric of his pants.
"Wha—," he tries to ask, but Kay uses the opportunity to feed his dick into Jay's mouth. He's thick, even though he's still soft. Jay wraps his lips around the base and works his tongue against it, feeling Kay thicken up and lengthen against his tongue, until he's half hard and too big to fit completely in Jay's mouth anymore.
He pulls back a little, bringing one hand up to hold Kay's dick level before diving back in. The dolphin thing runs past, either doesn't see them or mistakes them for two other people, something not-enemy, and therefore not worth his time. Jay barely pays its passing any attention, too busy at doing his best to choke himself on Kay's dick.
"Shit, kid — watch your teeth," Kay grabs at both sides of Jay's head, hooking Jay's ears between his ring and pinky fingers. "I gotta teach you everything?" He uses his hold on Jay's skull to control Jay's movements, gets Jay's mouth at just the right angle so he can fuck his way into the back of Jay's throat.
Both of their cell phones have rung themselves into voicemail by the time Kay finally comes, spilling hot into the back of Jay's mouth. It's as good a sign as any that their backup managed to catch the dolphin, which means that Jay doesn't have to feel guilty about getting his. Kay and he have been doing this dance of theirs forever, he has no idea why that had to change now, but he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"You're getting much better at that," Kay tells him. Jay wants to ask just what the fuck that means, but then he sees that even though it's darker than shit outside — winter having come early — Kay's randomly got his shades on.
▃
Kay's left him behind in the lobby, as if Jay being around the Zemgun's stupid treaty summit is some huge liability. Jay's rookie days are far behind him and it pisses him off that Kay still treats him like one, sometimes. It always fucking hurts, because they'll go months of this equal partners shit, Kay trusting him with everything, and then Kay pulls this shit and makes it obvious that he still thinks of Jay like some greenhorn punk with his thumb stuck up his own ass.
The only redeeming factor of the boring ass ground floor he's stuck on are the two assistants working behind the huge reception desk; a white girl who's covered up from wrists to ankles in this jumpsuit-romper-thing but still manages to look amazing, and this Asian kid with one of those thick hipster beards, probably five years younger than Jay while managing to be about thirty pounds heavier, all of it muscle that bulges nicely against the pressed lines of his designer button-down.
Jay's flirting with both of them, spinning bullshit just so that they'll laugh and send a smile his way. Eventually the girl clues him in that she's got a girlfriend, so Jay smiles at her one last time and says that he's just being friendly, trying to pass the time. He focuses on the boy after that, taking notice of the hint of a sleeve peaking out from the edge of his cuff.
He oohs and aahs when the kid undoes the buttons on his wrist and rolls the fabric up to his elbow, revealing the intricate tattoo staining his skin underneath. Jay runs a hand over his skin, tracing the patterns, and tries to remember the last time he got laid. He doesn't feel the pressure building up inside him like he usually does whenever he's having a dry spell, which is weird enough as it is. This kid's buying what Jay's selling; it's looking that his celibacy streak is gonna end tonight.
The elevator doors slide open and Kay stomps out, frowning hard as his eyes zero in on Jay. He stalks over to the front desk and grabs Jay by his belt, pulling him back towards the elevator, which hasn't even had the time to start closing its doors yet.
"Oh, so now I get to go?" Jay complains.
"Since I apparently have to keep your ass on a leash?" Kay shoves him into the elevator's cage. "Yeah."
Jay allows himself a moment to sulk, shoots the kid working the reception desk one last look before the doors close on them and he's stuck dealing with Kay's grumpy ass. He starts to get pissed; at Kay, for pulling this borderline possessive bullshit while he refuses to give Jay the time of day, and at himself, for actually letting Kay drag him away, instead of putting his foot down and telling Kay to fuck off. "You know what—"
"How'd you like to kiss me?" Kay asks. He steps forward and taps the evaluator's kill switch, and then, like the total asshole he is, he doesn't bother giving Jay any sort of chance to answer him, just leans in and presses their lips together like it's not some huge thing, like it's something they do all the damn time.
Fuck it, Jay thinks, because between the two of them, it's his job to be the reckless one, and Kay's got another thing coming if he thinks Jay's going to keep lapping up any and all scraps that Kay deigns to toss his way without giving as good as he gets.
He shoves Kay back against the wall and boxes him in with his forearms pressed against the metal wall; pretty much attacks Kay's mouth, wants to leave it slick and swollen so that everyone will know just what the fuck they got up to in the elevator, if there isn't some weird alien watching them through the cameras already.
Kay places to hands on Jay's chest and pushes lightly until Jay finally takes the hint and pulls their mouths apart, but only just barely, the two of them inhaling air the other's just pushed out of their lungs. They stay like that, breathing hard and half-glaring into each other's eyes, until Kay's looking just over Jay's shoulder.
He slides his hand up Jay's chest, fingers grazing against the stubble left behind from Jay's half-assed shaving attempt that morning, finally settling on his earlobe. Kay tags it a few times and then says in a whisper, almost like he's talking to himself, "I sorta miss that stupid earring of yours."
It makes Jay feel uncomfortable, like he's two steps behind wherever Kay is. He's got this weird feeling, like they've had this conversation before, but he can't remember it at all, but his body does, or his heart does, or something, because it feels like his body has a mind of his own as he shifts his weight onto one hand — only half-boxing Kay in now — so that he can poke his finger into the middle of Kay's chest as he says, "You gettin' soft on me?"
Kay's eyes widen, breath picking up for a few seconds before it all gets shifted behind that mask he always wears; cool, calm, collected. "C'mon, slick," he drawls. Jay feels his heart start to speed up, excited and giddy and expecting, like he already knows what's about to happen next. "You know the last thing I am is soft." He smacks Jay across the face, just like that, not too hard but enough that it stings when he pulls his hand back.
Jay feels like he's been hit buy a goddamn Mack truck.
Kay slips around him and starts the elevator up again. There's a million questions he wants to ask but he can't really focus on any of them, so Jay just stands there like an idiot, dick hard and aching in his pants, feeling like a good breeze could get him off.
He spends the meeting in a daze, tucked in the furthermost back corner and watching as Kay commandeers the room, telling all those big important aliens what they had to do to keep things running smoothly and not taking any lip when they try to weasel their way out of one thing or another. Kay's in his element, and it's making Jay so goddamn horny that he can barely stand it.
Jay grabs his dick in a way that he hopes is subtle, squeezes it hard and tries to remind himself of all the reasons coming in a room full of disgruntled aliens is a bad idea. When Kay finally — finally — looks his way, the motherfucker actually winks, then turns back to the presentation he's half-giving like nothing happen.
By the time everything's done and wrapped up, Jay's so wired that he wants to punch through a wall and then rebuild it, using his dick to pound the nails in. He's run over what he wants to say to Kay a hundred different times in his head; Jay plans to start off on chewing him out for making him wait so long, and finish it up with the freakiest fucking dirty talk, shit that'll make even Kay blush.
Kay beats him to the punch, like usual. "Keep it in your pants for another minute and I'll let you fuck me in the men's." Except for once Jay doesn't find himself mad about it.
He's practically stepping on Kay's heels as they both make a bee-line for the bathroom at the end of the hall. Jay doesn't even care what it looks like, just so long as it turns out to be exactly what it looks like.
Jay locks the door behind them and follows Kay into the handicap stall, undoing his pants and belt as he goes. By the time he clears the door his pants are tangled around his ankles; his dick's hanging out of the slit in his boxers because he was too harried to tug them down too. Kay's exactly as pressed and done up as he'd been that morning, so Jay whines and says, "What gives?"
Kay pulls him in by his tie, kicking the stall door closed behind them. He wraps his hand around Jay's dick, stroking it a few times before rubbing his thumb against the head, right underneath the crest, hard enough that it makes Jay curse.
"Here," Kay says, letting go of Jay's dick. Jay practically sobs at the loss of Kay's hand. Kay hushes him, absentmindedly, as he leans against the wall and pulls Jay up against him, his front to Jay's back. He shoves Jay's boxers down the rest of the way and gets his hand back on Jay's dick again. "There."
Kay's shorter than him, so his face winds up being pressed right against the topmost notch in his spine. Jay tries to hunch down a little, so that Kay can hook his chin over Jay's shoulder and they can maybe kiss or something, but when he tries to move Kay squeezes his dick warningly, and so Jay stays where he is.
He can feel Kay's ragged breath, even though the fabric of his suit jacket and shirt; after how long he let this build up, it doesn't take much time or technique on Kay's part for Jay to come all over his hand.
After a couple seconds, Kay lets go of Jay's dick. He wraps both his arms around Jay's middle, hugging him from behind, pressing his face hard into Jay's back.
Jay's happy, so fucking happy; they've finally got their shit together. He's dazed, giddy and blissed out from his orgasm, doesn't notice that Kay's holding up his neuralyzer until it's too late to do anything about it, flash going off in one great red blink.
▃
He has no idea how he managed to do it, but Jay finds himself waking up with a pulled muscle in his thigh. He aches, has to limp into the office and put up with some of the other agents giving him shit, saying that he needs to hit the gym. Jay makes a show of waving them off, letting them know that that his New Year's resolution was to cut out the gym as a middleman and focus on kicking alien ass instead, so if they're that eager for Jay to work out, he'd be more than happy to use them as his punching bags.
Kay's inside the locker room when Jay finally hobbles inside, half-way through buttoning up his shirt. His eyebrows raise progressively higher as Jay stumbles his way to his locker, so Jay cuts him off before he can make any smartass remarks. "I don't wanna hear nothing from you. Not now, not later, not tomorrow — not ever." Jay can't shake the feeling like this is somehow Kay's fault anyway, even if he can't pin down exactly why it is he feels that way.
If anything, that actually makes Kay shift from amused to smug. He slides over to Jay and says, "You're right kid; I'll try to remember to save that stuff for the weekend." He taps Jay on the ass, which makes Jay freeze up, both in pain and shock, and Kay freezes once he seems to realize what he said.
"Shit," Kay draws the vowel out for a couple beats, lets his head dip down until his chin is pressed against his chest. "That one was my fault, kid. I forget sometimes." He sighs and stuffs a hand into his pocket, rooting around for something. "Be a pal and let me borrow your shades for a second."
▃
Jay wakes up to find that he's been grinding his dick against Kay's thigh, practically humping him in his sleep. Yesterday was bad, lives-lost bad, and Kay had practically dragged Jay back to his place, stripped them both until they were in their birthday suits and then basically cuddled him close for the rest of the night. They hadn't even had sex, but Jay's hoping to change that now.
Kay wakes up just after Jay's finally gotten him chubbed up, Jay's head shuffling underneath the covers as he sucks Kay's balls into his mouth. "Hey, tiger," Kay mumbles. He yanks the covers off them, and Jay uses the opportunity to take in the way his face looks when he's still mostly asleep, relaxed and warm, as cozy as he'll probably ever get.
"Didn't have the heart to toss you out last night." Kay smacks his lips a few times before leaning over for something on his bedside table. "Alright, alright — we've still got work this morning, so cut that out."
Jay glances up, lips still mouthing around Kay's balls, and sees that Kay's got his eyes squeezed shut, neuralyzer pointed Jay's way.
"Kay, you fucking asshole—"
▃
June in the city actually isn't terrible for once. Jay's always liked working the Pride Parade, and the nice weather does nothing but make it even more enjoyable.
Kay and he both left their jackets in the car, shirtsleeves folded up to their elbows, shades on for a reason other than turning people's brains to mush. Still, they look kinda conspicuous amongst the rest of the crowed; everyone's half naked or comfortable in tank tops and shorts. They look like feds — feds looking to start shit — and Jay tells Kay as much. "At least smile or something, man. You're creeping out my people here."
"They're not just yours." Kay doesn't bother to look at Jay as he says it, too busy scoping out the area.
When what feels like the fifth bear couple frowns their way, Kay finally succumbs to the reality of how sketchy they look. He takes Jay's hand into his own and says, "Suit kink," with the straightest fucking face known to man. They still don't seem to buy it, so Jay puffs up his chest and says, "What you never seen an old white guy and a hot black dude in love before," which does the trick.
"Old white guy?" Kay grouses.
Jay swings their hands a little, humming. "Let's focus on the hot black dude part."
Kay snorts and continues to rock their hands as they walk through the crowd, finally starting to blend in a little.
"Hey, Kay?" Jay asks, half-distracted as he squints into the distance, trying to tell if the person half a block away from them is a drag queen or one of the Shorgs that had been reported as skulking around the neighborhood a couple weeks back. "We ever held hands before? This feels kinda familiar."
Kay's silence feels rather pointed. "Kay," Jay says slowly, squeezing Kay's hand tight between his. "Kay, have you neuralized me lately?"
"Don't ask questions about things you don't want the answer to, kid," his voice is firm, and he squeezes Jay's hand back just as hard. Something inside of him cows a little, and Jay backs off, even though that's the exact opposite of what it feels like he should be doing. "There's that one ice cream place a few streets up," Kay says, changing the topic. "Let's go, my treat; we're about due for a break anyway."
Jay's heart speeds up and he feels like an idiot for it. "What, like a date?"
Kay lets out a sigh and starts swinging their hands again, titling his head up to look at the sky. "If buying you shit counts as a date, then we've been on at least a thousand of 'em before."
There's no way the number is even half that high, not by Jay's count, but he keeps his mouth shut. He likes the sound of it so much that, for once, he's willing to let Kay have the last word.