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“Hey, boss, a little office bird mentioned you were back. How come you didn’t pop by to say hi to your fave ballistics officer? Um, Kepler, hellooo?”
“Hi.”
“Uh… you look like crap.”
“Ever the paragon of tact and sensitivity, Mr Jacobi. Did you want something?”
“Nah, just wanted to see you. Y’know, tell you that nobody blew up the office in your absence, and how Rachel Young’s been an absolute delight the whole time, so I’m thinking of requesting a permanent transfer to her dep… Whoa, man, I’m just kidding, I’m kidding! You don’t need to look like – Are you okay?”
“Fine. Good night, Jacobi. I’ll see you at the department meeting tomorrow.”
“Are you sure you’re not gonna take a day off? It’s been over two weeks, and you look –”
“That’s enough.”
“... sorry, sir. Just – Okay, what about this, you’ll let me drive you home, and I’ll lay off. Yeah?”
Kepler sighs, a deep, bone weary sound. “Yeah. Alright.”
Jacobi leans on the doorpost while he grabs his jacket, but forgoes the usual briefcase full of paperwork. On their way to the garage, Kepler trails behind with barely a hint of his usual purposeful stride. He sinks into the passenger seat of Jacobi’s car without a word.
“Right-o, boss”, Jacobi says as the engine rumbles to life. “Wanna pick the music? No? Oookay, let’s just go, then.”
He flicks on the radio, and pulls out of the Goddard garage. Kepler has turned to face the window, resting his head in his hand. His eyes are open, but Jacobi wouldn’t bet on him taking in much of the scenery right now.
It’s only a fifteen minute drive, but the silence makes it feel longer. Jacobi drums idly on the wheel when they stop at a red light, then pulls into a nearby convenience store.
“Be right back”, he says. Kepler barely nods. When Jacobi returns with a grocery bag that he throws in the backseat, he hasn’t moved an inch. Without looking directly at him, Jacobi restarts the car. “Sooo… gonna tell me what you’ve been up to while you were away?”
“It’s classified.”
“We talk about classified stuff all the time.” Wincing at the face Kepler makes at him, Jacobi hurries to backtrack, “Yeah, yeah, fine, it’s different, I know. But did something, uh… did something happen? Something out of the ordinary, I mean.”
“What part of classified… didn’t you understand?”
“Ugh, alright. I just thought you might wanna, y’know, talk about it.”
“No. I… don’t… want to… ‘talk about it’. Drop it, Jacobi.”
“Yessir, duly noted, sir. Come on, we’re here.”
*
Jacobi makes him grilled cheese.
It makes Kepler feel stupid, sitting there at his own kitchen table without anything to do, but he can’t pretend that it isn’t a relief. Left to his own devices, he probably would’ve ended up crashing in the office for a few hours instead of going home. The past weeks have been… demanding, full of hard, dangerous work with little to no time for rest. And then the –
No. It's not important. Still, it has left him utterly drained. Adrenaline kept him going through the debrief with Cutter, but without it, he can barely muster the energy to stay upright.
The sandwich tastes surprisingly good. Jacobi’s even added a few sliced cherry tomatoes and some lettuce at the side.
“Thank you”, he says, pushing the empty plate away. Jacobi shrugs, carefully scraping up his own crumbs.
“They had a shit cheese selection, but I made do. Feeling better?”
Kepler thinks he ought to resent the implication of the question, challenge the base assumption of it. The very suggestion that he would ever need someone to feed him to make him feel better, it’s ridiculous. Warren Kepler can take care of himself, because that’s what he’s always done. But… but.
He sighs, letting his shoulders sag. “Yeah. I do.”
“Cool. So I guess this is where I say good night and head home, then. See you tomorrow?”
“Or you could stay.”
Jacobi stiffens, and Kepler immediately regrets the words. He didn’t think, it just slipped out of him, before he had the time to take the pang of loss at the prospect of Jacobi leaving, and shove it somewhere deep and dark, securely locked away. Ignoring the twist in his chest, he waves dismissively.
“Good night, Mr Jacobi. Drive safely.”
“... do you want me to stay?”
Kepler doesn’t reply right away. What does he want? He wants to sleep. He wants to sleep for a goddamn week, maybe take a shower first. That’s what he wants. And he doesn’t want Jacobi to go.
“I left my car at Goddard. I’ll need a ride in the morning, too.”
He cringes inwardly. Is that really the best he could come up with? The quirk of Jacobi’s eyebrow tells him that he sees right through it, but he only shrugs, throwing a wry half-smile Kepler’s way.
“Sure. Makes sense.” Then, “Hey, Kepler? You awake?”
“Hm? Yeah.” He blinks, realizing that the dishes have been cleared away, as have the remnants of the cooking itself. “Ah.”
“Aww, looks like it’s past the wittle Major’s bedtime, want me to tuck you in with a bedtime story and your teddy bear?”
Kepler glares at him, eyes narrowed. “That’s insub-”
“-ordination, yeah, yeah. Got an extra toothbrush somewhere? I didn’t exactly pack for a sleepover this morning.”
“Cupboard. I’m taking a shower.”
Forcibly pulling himself together, he stands up. Too fast, it turns out when a wave of dizziness washes over him, and he has to grip the back of his chair for balance. Jacobi pauses in his toothbrush quest, his eyes boring into Kepler.
“Maybe I should join you. Y’know, make sure you don’t keel over and hit your head or something.”
Kepler hums. “If you like.”
Jacobi frowns; clearly it wasn’t the answer he was looking for. But he still follows Kepler to the bathroom, where he shucks his clothes without a trace of self-consciousness.
The shower cubicle is large, a far cry from the cramped hotel showers they’ve shared before, giving both of them plenty of space to stand. Kepler turns the water on, and Jacobi yelps when the first spray hits him.
“Jesus, it’s freezing! Oh, wait, that’s better. What the heck, I thought you’d have some kind of super shower that didn’t do that!”
Kepler snorts. He thinks of reminding Jacobi of his beloathed Rule No. 8, but decides not to bother. It’s not like they’re on the clock.
Jacobi turns his face up under the spray and runs his hands through his hair, giving Kepler a perfect view of the muscles rippling under his skin. Blood promptly rushing downward, he takes a deep breath to steady himself. No. Certainly not on the clock.
*
Initial icy surprise aside, Kepler’s shower is great. Roomy, clean, amazing water pressure, the works. Jacobi enjoys it thoroughly.
It only gets better when he glances over at Kepler, and catches him staring.
“Hey”, he says. Kepler startles. Then his mouth quirks upward in a tired smile.
“Hey.”
“Gee, here I thought you were admiring my dashing good looks, and you were really just half asleep again. I’m devasta-”
A hand on his chest stops him short.
Jacobi holds his breath, waiting for the next thing, but… nothing happens. For a long, long moment Kepler just holds his hand there, resting over Jacobi’s pec, fingers circling idly an inch above his nipple.
“Wow, you really are totally out of it, aren’t you?” Reaching past Kepler, Jacobi grabs the sponge and a bottle of body wash from some expensive-looking brand he’s never seen before. The hand slips away, trailing down his stomach, coming to a stop at his hip instead. His breathing stutters, and he nearly drops the body wash as he pours a generous dollop onto the sponge. “Let’s clean the mission grime off you, hm?”
Kepler sighs, closing his eyes as Jacobi runs the sponge across his back, his shoulders, down his arms… It’s thrilling, exhilarating, new. Kepler’s breath tickles his neck when he leans into him, and Jacobi’s stomach does a series of backflips at the hand on his ass. His cock twitches, but who could blame him for it? Hell, it’s basically become a pavlovian response. He doesn’t acknowledge it, only keeps slowly, methodically slathering Kepler in soapy suds.
That is, until something distinctly pokes him in the thigh, and Kepler starts to mouth at his collarbone. Jacobi pauses, sliding his free hand down Kepler’s back to pull him closer, slotting their hips together. The responding shaky exhale zings through him like electricity. Breathless, he shifts so Kepler’s back is pressed against his front, and resumes his task.
Pausing at every now-familiar scar, he makes his way down Kepler’s torso. The long slash across his ribs, the gnarled starburst of an old bullet hole above his hipbone… Jacobi grins at the full body shudder when he reaches the crease of his groin. Kepler groans, his hips twitching forward when he narrowly avoids his half-hard dick, instead running the sponge down his inner thigh.
“Ja- cobi…”
“God, you’re hot like this”, Jacobi mumbles. Giving in to the urge, he kisses Kepler’s neck, nipping lightly at the pulse point fluttering under his lips. The warm water dilutes any taste, but Kepler’s hands on his forearm tighten, and Jacobi rolls his hips. Just once, just a little bit of friction before he goes crazy. “I should let you sleep.”
*
Hotel rooms. Apartments leased under false names. Rental cars. Once, on a memorable occasion, with Jacobi on his knees in a dingy dive bar’s bathroom, both his own and a stranger’s blood still on his hands and face.
That’s what they do. That’s what they are. This… isn’t it. They can’t be.
He grinds back against Jacobi, and pulls his hand downwards.
The part of his mind that’s not half delirious with exhaustion screams at him what a bad idea it is, but it’s faint, distant, buried far in the back of his mind. The other one, siding with his body, just wants.
Arching his back, he turns his head to catch Jacobi’s lips, then twists in his arms to push him back against the wall.
“The hell you should.”
Jacobi’s breath catches. Pupils blown wide, he stares at Kepler, his chest heaving, and water dripping from his soaked hair to run down his cheeks in little rivulets. He lets out a breathy whimper when Kepler buries his hand in the hair at the back of his neck, tugging lightly. His cock is hard and hot, sliding against Kepler’s.
His head spinning, Kepler grinds their hips together, and kisses him again.
“You make a really convincing case, sir”, he breathes when they break apart for air. Kepler chuckles, resting his forehead against Jacobi’s.
“Good. That’s… good.”
Jacobi sputters, half a laugh, half an indignant huff.
“‘That’s good’? Is that the best you can come up with? Jeez, you’re a mess tonight. But since you ask so very nicely” – he sneaks a hand between them, giving them both a quick, breathtaking stroke – “I suggest we move over to the bed, and I’ll suck your dick before you conk out on me.”
“Insubordination”, Kepler mumbles, words muffled against his neck. Jacobi gasps when he sucks sharply, realizing it’s going to leave a hickey a moment too late. But in for a penny… He scrapes his teeth down Jacobi’s throat to press a bruising kiss at the base, gratified at the way his dick twitches.
“You – you’re gonna pass out if you try to fuck me.”
Kepler growls, but goddamnit, he’s got a point. Just staying upright is taking its toll on him, his legs already leaden and shaky, no matter how hard the horniness tries to override reason. But he doesn’t want to just – He wants –
Jacobi shoots him a crooked grin, and quips, “Uuuunless you wanna switch things around.”
He moans, an high-pitched embarrassing sound, his knees going weak at the thought. His cock throbs, leaking against Jacobi’s stomach.
“Huh.” Jacobi laughs, a soft, surprised puff of air over Kepler’s face. “I didn’t – I had no idea you were into that.”
Intentionally so, too. Right now, Kepler can’t remember why.
“Please.”
*
Internally recalibrating, Jacobi trails his hands down to Kepler’s ass, fingering lightly at the cleft.
“Right-o. Got lube in the bedroom?”
“Y-yes.”
“Great. That’s – great. Let’s finish up here and move.”
Is it possible for someone’s brain cells to be replaced by fireworks? Jacobi wonders, because it certainly feels like it. All coherent thought is drowned out by the sparks, and he’s close to short-circuiting entirely when they tumble onto the bed.
Kepler squirms under him, digging his fingers deep into Jacobi’s arms when he licks and nips at his throat.
“Where’s –?” he asks, flicking Kepler’s earlobe with his tongue.
“Bedside… drawer”, Kepler pants, motioning vaguely to the side. Jacobi nods and reaches for it, bracing himself on the pillow with his hand in Kepler’s hair.
Lube, tissues… Does he bring people here often, or are they purely for Kepler’s solo use? And isn’t that a mental image he’ll return to, Kepler sprawled on his bed, stroking and fingering himself, flushed and breathless… His questing fingers find a couple of small, square foil packets, and a sour flash of jealousy takes him by surprise. All stocked for company, then. That’s –
His train of thought is promptly derailed when Kepler sucks his thumb into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. Jacobi groans, the heat of it going straight to his groin.
Ignoring the condoms, he shuts the drawer again. Without withdrawing his hand, he shifts to kneel between Kepler’s legs.
“Fuck, look at you…”
His heart pounding, he presses down on Kepler’s teeth, moving his thumb in and out, smearing his lower lip with spit. Absentmindedly he starts stroking both, and adds his index finger to his thumb.
Kepler whimpers, bucking into his hand and sucking hard on the digits. His eyes half shut, he clutches the pillow with a white-knuckled grip, his dick leaking precome all over Jacobi’s hand.
Slipping another finger in, Jacobi fumbles the lube open.
“Cold”, he warns, voice hoarse. Kepler just gives an obscene little moan around the fingers fucking his mouth. His hips jerk when Jacobi circles his hole, the muscles of his stomach quivering. “Shhhh, relax…”
He pushes in slowly. Kepler shudders, his cock jumping at the intrusion. Then he relaxes. Jacobi keeps going, adding another finger, moving in and out… He’s so turned on he can barely think straight, with no hand free to touch himself. Breath stuttering, he tries to get some friction by rubbing himself against Kepler, but the angle is awkward when he can’t brace himself on anything.
Reading his mind, Kepler reaches between them and closes his hand around Jacobi’s cock.
“F-fuck!”
The strokes are sloppy and uneven, far from Kepler’s usual controlled technique. It’s the hottest thing Jacobi can remember ever happening to him.
Groaning, he thrusts his fingers roughly into the slick wet heat of Kepler’s mouth, the swooping feeling in his belly bordering on vertigo. Then he finds Kepler’s prostate, and Jacobi’s hand slips out of his mouth when his back arches, his jaw going slack. Jacobi repeats the motion, and Kepler clenches down on his fingers, his hand gone still.
He looks absolutely wrecked, his face flushed and with spit smeared all over his chin. Unfocused, his eyes are dark with lust as they meet Jacobi’s. His tongue darts out between slick, swollen lips. Not to kiss him would be an unforgivable crime.
Kepler meets him halfway, in a messy hungry clash of tongues and teeth. His heart already beating in a frenzy, it sends a million butterflies fluttering in Jacobi’s chest. Wiggling his fingers, he eagerly swallows Kepler’s cry.
With Kepler straddling his lap, he finally gets the friction he craves. Sparks go off behind his eyelids as he rolls his hips, his dick sliding against Kepler’s where they’re trapped between their stomachs. It’s good, it’s amazing, but it’s not enough. Not enough by far.
Appearing to agree, Kepler rocks impatiently against his hand.
“Jacobi…”
“Yeah, I’ll just –” Pushing Kepler onto his back again, Jacobi crooks his fingers to wring another moan from him. “Ready?”
“Uh-huh. Fuck me, please fuck me, please –”
Jacobi clamps his hand around the base of his erection, closing his eyes to steady himself. Kepler hisses when he pulls his fingers out, his cock twitching, a drop of clear fluid leaking from the tip. Wiping his fingers on the sheets, Jacobi reaches for the lube again.
“Uh, how do you want to…”
Kepler looks at him for a moment, his chest heaving. Then he wordlessly flops over, and shoves a pillow under his hips. Jacobi bites back a chuckle; it’s still funny to him how sex is the one sure-fire way to shut Kepler up. Right now he’s got other things on his mind, though.
Slicking himself up, he drinks in the sight of Kepler’s broad, muscular back, the swell of his ass, slick and waiting… His cock so hard it almost hurts, he runs his hands over Kepler’s asscheeks, spreading them open. Kepler whines, high and breathy, when Jacobi nudges at his entrance.
“Look at you”, he says again. It isn’t quite what he means, but it’s all he can put together through the static filling his brain. “Look at you…”
*
With every nerve ending on fire, Kepler pushes back against the measured, shallow thrusts. It feels amazing, Jacobi slowly filling him, inch by inch, but it isn’t enough, he wants more, more –
Jacobi finally bottoms out and goes still, draped over Kepler’s back. Panting, he peppers kisses all over the back of Kepler's neck, every single one sending a thrill down his spine. With a scrape of teeth over his shoulder blade, Jacobi starts to move.
“Christ, you feel so good”, he murmurs. Kepler shudders, the words jolting through him like lightning, going straight to his cock.
“Harder. You can – harder.”
Jacobi stills again, but only for a second. Pulling out nearly all the way, his hand finds Kepler’s, and he laces their fingers together. Then he snaps his hips, slamming back in hard. Kepler chokes his cry in the pillow, and braces his knees on the mattress to meet the thrusts.
The angle is perfect, Jacobi’s cock hitting just right on every thrust. White hot pleasure courses through him, his chest swelling with the scrambled praise mumbled into the back of his neck. He gropes for Jacobi’s other hand and brings it back to his mouth, pressing openmouthed kisses to the knuckles and palm. Jacobi groans, his rhythm faltering.
“Y-you really like that, huh.”
As an answer, Kepler swirls his tongue around his fingertips. Jacobi’s breath stutters, half laughter, half a gasp. Pushing the fingers deeper, he picks up the pace again, burying his face against the back of Kepler’s neck. Kissing and nipping, sucking bruises into the skin of his shoulders, slamming into him over and over again…
Heat building low in his gut, the world narrows down to the sensations of it. The fullness, the slick slide of skin on skin, Jacobi’s fingers in his mouth, his cock buried in his ass, nails digging into Kepler’s palm… Everything inside him is coiled tight, screaming for release. Rocking back against Jacobi’s thrusts, he ruts against the pillow, chasing friction for himself.
“Fuck, you’re amazing, so tight, so hot, so good, fuck –”
It’s perfect. It’s too much. It’s not enough. He might come from this alone, every word making him shudder and clench. His balls tightening, he feels ready to burst.
His thrusts growing sloppy, Jacobi’s words fade into vocal gasps. Kepler writhes under him, his heartbeat loud in his ears. There’s a fire raging inside of him, burning, searing, building in his belly, rising up in his chest. He doesn’t try to hold back the needy little cries tearing out of him.
Jacobi lets go of his hand.
“Turn over, baby, I wanna see you, wanna see you come –”
He's twisting before he’s consciously processed the words. Jacobi slips out of him, and the sense of loss is so acute he almost sobs.
Then Jacobi kisses him, and pushes back inside in a single, fluid thrust.
Kepler’s mind whites out. Nothing exists but Jacobi’s lips on his, their bodies moving together, the pressure building inside.
Trapped between them, his cock rubs against Jacobi’s stomach on every thrust. It’s bringing him maddeningly close to the edge, but isn’t quite enough. Desperate, he tries to reach between them, but Jacobi is faster. Breaking the kiss, he pushes Kepler’s hand away.
Keyed up as he is, it only takes a few strokes to tip him over the edge.
It feels like falling. Digging his nails deep into Jacobi’s shoulders, Kepler clings to him, not sure where one ends and the other begins. Jacobi cries out, shuddering through his own climax.
For a while neither of them move. They just breathe together, racing hearts and heaving chests pressed together. Then Jacobi rolls off him, pulling out in the process. Kepler makes a small noise of protest, and Jacobi nudges his nose with his own.
“I need to clean up”, he says. “Be right back.”
The bed feels cold without him in it. Staring up at the lazily spinning ceiling fan, Kepler thinks about following him. There’s a wet spot on the mattress, and the cooling semen on his stomach is growing tacky and gross, but his limbs are too heavy to move. Too… heavy…
“Hey, did you fall asleep?”
Kepler cracks his eyes open just a fraction. For emphasis, he shakes his head. “Nnno.”
“Liar.” There’s a smile in Jacobi’s voice, and Kepler forces his eyes open the rest of the way to see it. Something wet touches his hand. “Here, I got you a washcloth.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s me, always caring and considerate. Budge, will you?”
Kepler wipes away the worst of the mess before tossing the cloth on the floor. Then he obligingly scoots a little to the side, and Jacobi flops back into bed.
“‘Night”, he murmurs, and flicks off the bedside light. The room plunges into darkness.
Sleep already pulling at him, Kepler nestles close. Something in the back of his mind niggles at him, but his thoughts are too muddled to make it out. He… he shouldn’t… something.
It’s not important. Only the warmth next to him is.
*
For the first few seconds of consciousness, Jacobi has no idea where he is. Then it hits him. Kepler’s apartment, Kepler’s bed. Kepler…
… is still asleep. At 7.26 AM, that might be a record –
It’s 7.26 AM, and they’re supposed to be at the department meeting at 8. Jacobi winces.
“Hey. Wake up.” Unthinking, he leans forward, but catches himself before he reaches Kepler’s mouth. Biting his lip, Jacobi shakes his shoulder lightly instead.
Kepler’s breathing immediately changes, and a second later he opens his eyes. “What –?”
“Play hooky with me.” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop himself. He immediately wants to take them back, when every trace of sleepiness vanishes from Kepler’s face. Heaving himself up on his elbow, he glances at the clock.
“Shit!” Unceremoniously shoving Jacobi aside, he’s out of the bed in two seconds flat.
“Oi!”
“Shower, Jacobi. Double time it!”
The morning shower is nothing like the previous night’s. Kepler’s movements are brisk and efficient, and he barely spares a glance at Jacobi.
Jacobi, still only half awake, stumbles through his own wash, struggling to keep up. Even while ignoring him, Kepler is distracting as fuck, not least the sight of his dick standing uncacknowledged at half mast. Turning away to dissuade his own growing boner, Jacobi pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s going to need some time to properly pick last night apart, but it will simply have to wait – preferably until he’s back home in his own bed, with lots of time and only his hand for company. Right now…
“Move. It”, Kepler snaps, throwing a towel at him.
“Yessir.”
Wincing, Jacobi takes in the tense line of his shoulders as he strides out of the bathroom, presumably to get dressed. Jacobi’s own clothes are still lying on the bathroom floor. While not exactly crisp and rosy fresh, they should be okay for another day, he thinks, quickly shrugging into them. Small mercies, maybe.
Then Kepler re-enters. He picks up his shaving kit without looking at Jacobi, and lathers up his face with jerky, hurried motions. Scrubbing a hand over his own chin, Jacobi decides it’ll do. It’s not like he always turns up at the office pristine and clean-shaven, not like Kepler does.
Craning his neck to get a decent view in the mirror, Jacobi runs his hand through his hair a couple of times. Eh, good enough. If it comes to it, he’s probably got some styling wax either in the car or in his desk drawers.
His eyes catch Kepler’s in the mirror. Kepler immediately looks away and continues to shave, his mouth set. With a twist in his gut, Jacobi thinks back to last night.
“Turn over, baby, I wanna see you, wanna see you come –”
Jacobi cringes. Jesus fucking Christ, did he actually say that? And Kepler…
“Please.”
He swallows, crossing his arms.
“Hey”, he says, keeping his tone carefully bland, “is this gonna get all, I dunno, weird?”
Kepler doesn’t pause, doesn’t look up. “Whyever would it, Jacobi?”
“Then look at me.”
A flinch. Kepler curses, a tiny drop of blood welling up from the nick on his cheek. Their eyes meet in the mirror, just for a second before Kepler bends to snatch up some toilet paper to dab at the wound. His eyes are hard, closed off.
“Drop it.”
“Look, I just –” Jacobi exhales sharply through his nose. “Yeah. Okay. Well, whenever you’re ready, I guess.”
After tugging his shoes on, he lounges by the door, picking at his nails and glaring at the no doubt ridiculously expensive, insipid artworks on the wall. He wonders if Kepler picked them himself, or if some Goddard home stylist was charged with the decorating.
Kepler joins him barely two minutes later. Looking as impeccable as ever, the cut on his cheek is barely visible. Jacobi doesn’t even wait for him to finish putting his shoes on before he impatiently opens the door.
“Let’s go, we might make it if we hurry.”
He’s already halfway through it when he’s stopped by a hand on his arm.
“Wait.”
“What.”
“Daniel”, Kepler says. That makes him look up, alright. “You have to forget this ever happened. Do you understand?”
The fingers brushing the hair out of his eyes are gentle, but Kepler’s eyes are still unreadable. It isn’t exactly an order, but there’s no room to disobey, either. Looking away, Jacobi nods.
“Yes, sir. Got it.”
“Good. Come on, drive fast enough, and maybe we can buy coffee on the way.”