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Walter stood in front of his ruined house and battled a feeling of loss. It was just a house, he told himself but his shoulders still slumped as he looked at the destruction. The government was very good at destroying things...and people. Walter hoped that he would be able to change that. He had to hope that there was a better way for them all.
Lance stepped up beside him. He surveyed the damage with an arched eyebrow. “Marcy really outdid herself.”
“She’s relentless,” Walter agreed sadly.
Lovey, perched on Walter’s shoulder, nuzzled his neck. She cooed softly.
Walter steeled himself and then stepped onto the sagging porch. The front door hung partially off its hinges. Walter slipped in through the gap and stopped.
Almost everything that had been on the walls was now on the floor. Glass beakers and sheets from photographs were shattered. There were spots of acid burns on the floor and it looked like there had been a minor explosion if the charred wall was anything to go by. Several holes in the wall let in wind that made papers and feathers flutter with false life. Dust motes hung in the air and there was a leaden feeling of disuse and abandon in the house. Walter hoped no one tried squatting in the house for their sake more than anything; the chemicals he worked with could be dangerous.
Walter made a beeline for the wall that used to house the photos of his mother. Every photograph was intact but the glass had been broken out of every frame. He knelt and carefully picked up the photographs. This was what he couldn’t replace. His clothes, his gadgets, everything else could be replaced (and it would be) but not the precious photos of his mother. As Walter saved them, he felt the same ball of sorrow and pride well up inside him that he always felt when he looked at them. It had been fourteen years since her death but Walter still missed her fiercely.
Lance stalked through the rest of the house like a wraith. He went into the rooms that hadn’t been collapsed and weren’t too dangerous to enter.
Walter was only peripherally aware of Lance, too lost in his own memories to worry about whatever the spy was getting up to. He found the Dream Team mug broken beyond repair. A huge crack ran down his mother’s ceramic face. Looking at it lodged a painful knot of emotion in Walter’s throat. The loss of his house - a house that both his mother and grandmother had lived in before him - and the broken mug renewed the pain he felt over the loss of his mother. He missed her dearly. Her death had blindsided him, caught him completely by surprise. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the risk, he just hadn’t thought it could happen to her. Not to his mother. Walter wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve.
Lovey cooed again, nuzzled Walter more vigorously. She ruffled her feathers. Lovey had come into Walter’s life after Walter’s mother and grandmother died. She never knew them but she knew that Walter was sad about his lost flock. Walter knew that because Lance had told him once, in what he’d attempted to pass as an off handed comment.
Walter carefully gathered the photos and newspaper clippings together. They were a little dusty from broken plaster and exposure to the elements but otherwise they were undamaged. It was lucky that it hadn’t rained while Walter was saving the world. He stood up and turned to look for Lance.
Lance stood behind Walter, tall and silent. The expression in his amber eyes was soft with affection and sympathy. He opened his arms.
Walter stepped into Lance’s arms gratefully. He was careful not to crush the photos between their bodies but Walter made sure that he could rest his ear against Lance’s broad chest.
Lovey flew up to perch in Walter’s curls. She settled against the both of them, also liked to rest her ear against Lance’s chest.
For several long minutes, the three of them stood in the ruins of the only home Walter had ever known. Walter tried not to cry on Lance’s suit. Lance always wore such nice, expensive suits. And they were electrified so water and Lance’s suit was not a good combination for a crying man. The moment that Walter felt Lance get fidgety, he pulled away. “I’m ready.”
Lance looked surprised. “There’s nothing else you want?”
Walter looked around again. All of the important stuff was in his hands and his work was all backed up. The experiments he’d been working on were destroyed and would need to be restarted from scratch. “Everything else is replaceable.”
Lance nodded in acceptance. He led the way back into the world. The sleek car waited for them in the same spot Lance had parked the last time they’d been at Walter’s house, before all the craziness. In the car, Lance glanced over at Walter. “Ready to go home?”
The Agency was kind enough to fund a new house for Walter after they so thoroughly destroyed this one. Walter appreciated it, he truly did. But the house didn’t feel like home, not yet. He felt like a ghost wandering around unfamiliar halls. Walter smiled at Lance. “Yup!” He popped the p.
Lance grinned as he put the car into drive. They sped off down the road. After the mission, Ears had told them that their team thought Lance was the king of the asphalt. Ears wasn’t alone in that thought. Lance got them to Walter’s new house in a matter of minutes even though it was across town.
Walter’s heart thumped hard in his chest. He still loved the speed, loved the rush of his life being in Lance’s hands. He grinned as he got out of the car and walked up to his new house.
Lovey was back on Walter’s shoulders.
This house was bigger than his last one and was a terrible beige color. Walter wanted to paint the walls but he also sometimes felt the need to tear them down so in the end he did nothing. He walked up the steps to the door and took out his key. First he tried to insert it upside down. He shifted so that Lance couldn’t see his mistake. Finally Walter unlocked the door and pushed it open.
The inside of the house smelled new, faintly of lumber and fresh paint. There were hardwood floors and stark white walls. The furniture was traditional style and stiff from disuse. It was as pristine as a picture in a catalog.
Walter toed off his sneakers and dropped his keys into a bowl by the door.
Lovey flew off into the house. It was not yet pigeon friendly but she’d taken to roosting above the fireplace.
Lance followed Walter inside and toed off his dress shoes as well. It was a sure sign that he meant to stay for a while and it made Walter’s chest glow with happiness. “Nice place you’ve got here,” Lance commented.
Walter shrugged. “It needs some personal touches.” He set the photographs on the coffee table in the living room. The walls of this new house were blank, neither art nor generic stock photos on the walls. Later he would get some frames and a hammer to put them up. “Do you want some coffee?” Walter called over his shoulder as he padded into the kitchen. The kitchen was large and clean with a blue and white theme. It was a relief to have a splash of color somewhere in the house.
“Yes, thank you,” Lance followed on silent stocking feet.
Walter set about making a pot of coffee. There was food in his fridge and cupboards that he didn’t buy. It was provided by the Agency. Another thank you and I’m sorry all wrapped in one. While he waited for the coffee to brew, Walter slunk into one of the seats at the island bar.
Lance sat beside him, looking poised as always. His gaze found Walter, a warmth in his eyes when he looked at the other man. “It’s bigger than your last house.”
Walter glanced up from where he was slumped over the marble island counter. “Bigger isn’t always better.” That’s what they said, right? Walter finally understood it. He missed the little house he’d grown up in and all of the memories there. The most terrifying part of it was that aside from Lovey, Walter was all alone. He had no family or friends to make new memories with in this new house. There would never be ghosts haunting him here.
Well, perhaps there was Lance. Walter still wasn’t sure where they stood now that their mission was over. Obviously they would still be teammates and partners - and oh, how Walter wanted Lance to be a partner - but now Walter was the lead and Lance was meant to follow. They had a new team to work with, mostly people who didn’t work in the Agency before. Walter was glad for that. The only two who were from the Agency were Jeff (not the pigeon) and Brandon and they weren’t from the labs so they didn’t know Walter very well. But they’d probably heard the rumors. Everyone had.
“You’ll make it into home soon enough,” Lance said encouragingly. He patted Walter’s shoulder with a broad hand. His touch was warm through Walter’s three layers. Lance’s hand lingered.
The coffee pot beeped to let them know the coffee was done. Walter was reluctant to leave Lance’s touch but he slipped away and looked through his cupboards for two mugs. He didn’t know where anything was in this house; after the mission he was airlifted to the hospital and stayed there for two weeks while he recovered. Afterwards, he and Lance went straight to the Agency headquarters. They promptly got fired and then rehired on a new team. This was only the second time that Walter had been in the house. The first time was for the initial walk through. Walter found the mugs and poured them coffee. He returned to Lance with both mugs and tried not to remember the shattered Dream Team mug left in the old house. “Are you going to stay tonight?” Walter couldn’t keep the hope out of his voice.
Lance sipped his coffee. His knee lightly knocked in Walter’s. “I’ve actually got to go after the coffee. The Agency wants Brandon and Jeff to have some field training.” Lance looked regretful that he couldn’t stay.
Walter tried not to let his shoulders slump. Where was the line of too much dependency? Was it strange that he wanted Lance to be with him all the time? He felt the warmth of Lance’s leg against his and forced himself to be cheery. It was okay. Lance had his own life and responsibilities. They would see each other at work tomorrow.
Lovey flew in from the living room and perched on Walter’s shoulder. She nuzzled him.
Walter smiled into his coffee as he gently nuzzled her back. “Lovey will miss you,” he confided. Brazenly he added, “and so will I.”
Lance set his mug down. He carefully plucked Walter’s mug from his fingers. Then he leaned over and kissed Walter. It wasn’t a passionate kiss but it was full of affection.
Walter’s heart filled with joy. He chased after Lance’s lips, wanted to draw out their brief cup of coffee for as long as he could. And he liked kissing Lance.
Lance was smiling when he finally pulled away. “I think that I’m free tomorrow night, if you still want company.”
“Yes. I’d like that.” They went back to their coffee after that, talking and laughing as they drank. Walter was sad to see Lance go but the parting was polished by sweet kisses in the hall, at the front door, beside Lance’s car. Walter finally stepped back and waved. “I’ll see you at work.”
“Bye, lovebird,” Lance said with a wave. He started the car and pulled out of the driveway.
Walter watched until the tail lights disappeared. Then he went back into his big empty house. There was truly only one way to bury his loneliness deep down inside where no one but Lovey could see it and that was to work. Walter would work on an experiment, draw up ideas, do something tinkering. Walter hesitated in front of the den before moving on to the bedroom. The room was as impersonal and minimal as the rest of the house. He couldn’t invite Lance to spend the night here, in this cold and uniform bed. Walter pulled out his phone and summoned an uber. There was some shopping that needed to be done; some things that the Agency hadn’t thought to buy a young gay man.
At the store, Walter grabbed a cart and made a beeline for the home goods department. He picked out two quilts, a new comforter, three extra pillows, and two body pillows. Walter liked to sleep in what was sometimes referred to as a nest. He picked up new picture frames for what he’d recovered from the old house. In the pharmacy section, he grabbed a heating pad - he didn’t like cold feet - along with their biggest bottle of lube and a couple boxes of condoms. Would he need condoms? Did Lance like barebacking or would he insist on rubbers? Walter knew they were both STD/STI free because the Agency kept a regularly updated record of that and making gadgets wasn’t the only thing that Walter was good at. It was probably better to have them. Before he left, Walter picked up more gluten free bread crumbs for all of the pigeons in his life and for Lance.
Walter called another uber for the ride home and insisted that he carry all of his groceries into the house by himself. He struggled but made it to the house without dropping anything in front of the uber driver and tipped the person before they’d made it to the end of the street.
Lovey came over to investigate his purchases. She followed him into the laundry room.
Walter opened the gluten free bread crumbs and put some on an empty shelf for her before he set to work cutting off tags. All of his bedding was put into the washer. While that was washing, he went to the bedroom and put the new pillows on the bed. He spent a few minutes arranging his nest, fussing over the placement of the pillows, and generally trying to make it as comfortable as possible. The heating pad was plugged into the wall and set up at the foot of the bed, though he left it turned off for now. Walter put the condoms and lube in the nightstand beside the dresser.
Lovey landed on Walter’s head and nestled among his curls. She cooed in approval as she surveyed his nest.
“Thanks, Lovey, but it isn’t done yet,” Walter said. He went back to the laundry room to throw his bedding into the dryer. He moved to the kitchen and washed the mugs that they’d used earlier. Walter spent some time poking around his cupboards and fridge, seeing what other people thought were necessities. It was interesting but soon Walter found himself going back into the living room. He sat on the floor with his back to the couch and began to reframe the photographs and news clippings of his mother.
Lovey glided down to the coffee table and watched Walter. She looked from the photos to Walter’s face.
“I miss her a lot. You would have really liked her, Lovey.” Tears welled in his eyes. He let them fall. Walter didn’t have to be brave in front of Lovey. She was there so that he could fall apart in front of something with a heartbeat. For a long time Walter sat on the floor and looked at the photographs, reliving memories. She would be sad to know that her son was virtually friendless even though he did save the world. When the buzzer on the dryer went off, Walter jumped. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to finish making his nest.
Walter tried really hard. For as long as he could remember, he tried hard. He tried to make friends, to find a partner, to learn as much as he could, to get a good job that he loved, to live up to his mom’s expectation that he would save the world. The score was fairly even. Learning was a never-ending, always-hungry beast but Walter had made great strides in it. His mom would be proud of him.
He got a job that he thought he would love - and he did, he loved inventing - but most people who didn’t outright dislike him just ignored him. Switching Lance’s grenade with a kitty glitter bomb was the riskiest thing Walter had ever done in his life. There were other spies at the Agency but Lance was the top spy. He was the best at his job and he was easily the most lethal. No one else’s kill count came anywhere near Lance Sterling’s. He was the one who commissioned most of the weapons made in the gadgets lab. The truth was, Walter had gambled with Lance’s life and he thanked his lucky stars every day that he’d won that gamble. But his coworkers thought that Walter was weird and that didn’t change just because he was in charge of his own department and team.
Walter gave his job a half point in the positive and a half in the negative. He didn’t have friends and Lance had sternly told him that pigeons didn’t count as friends so the little flock that hung out in the backyard didn’t count. Lovey was his friend no matter what Lance said; though as an emotional support animal Walter was technically her job.
Lance was his partner and together they had saved the world. Lance was his partner and probably his partner though they hadn’t yet had a chance to consummate their, er, partnership. Maybe - hopefully - that would change within the next few days. Walter still counted it as a box ticked off, He had a partner that was like a two for one deal. They were together and saving the world peacefully.
Now that the house felt a little more like home, it was time to finally get to work. And for fucks sake, Walter needed to stop being so unhappy with things. His life wasn’t that bad and a pity party wouldn’t solve anything. Walter opened the doors to the den and stepped inside. It had been converted to a makeshift lab that looked far more professional than what he’d had in the other house. Money and the resources it could buy were amazing things. He shut himself into the den, sat down at his desk, and began to work.
If Walter got on a train of thought, he tended to neglect himself in favor of riding it out and seeing it come to fruition. He didn’t sleep that night, nor did he eat. Walter only left the den to feed Lovey and get some water, then he was right back to work on his latest experiment. The thing about science and inventing was that it wasn’t just a montage. There was a lot of waiting for results to come back. Especially when working with genetics like Walter specialized in. While he was waiting, he sketched out and wrote down ideas for new gadgets and listened to K-pop on his wireless earbuds.
Walter and sleep had what some might call a rocky relationship. He didn’t sleep that night. An hour after his shift was supposed to start, Walter sent Joy an email telling her that he was going to work from home today. No, he wasn’t sulking. He was too busy for that. The water breaks turned into coffee breaks sometime around noon and before Walter knew it, twenty-four hours had passed without so much as a nap. Walter sang along to his favorite songs and moved around the den like a tornado. When he ran out of paper - really, who gives a scientist just one legal pad? - Walter put his pen to the wall and mapped out his thoughts on the ugly white walls. Maybe there was a benefit to having white walls but as soon as he got a chance he was going to paint every other room in the house. This was a fleeting thought as Walter worked.
A part of Walter noticed that the next night came and went without any sign of Lance but the bigger part of him was determined to ignore the fact by doubling down and working harder. He drank more coffee - and made more bathroom trips - and began to talk to himself out loud in between singing the Korean pop songs that he loved so much. Walter was wired and shaking, unable to sit still because if he did then he’d fall asleep. His eyesight was blurring and his eyes burned. When he nearly burned himself was when he gave up. He needed a break. Walter slouched in his desk chair and let his eyes close for a few minutes.
The feeling of lips on his neck was what roused Walter. He blinked enough to make out Lance’s sharp features. Then he closed his eyes again. “I’m working,” he mumbled.
Lance picked Walter up and cradled him in his arms. He was so strong that he didn’t even grunt with the effort of lifting Walter’s deadweight. “Well it’s time to go off the clock,” Lance sounded amused. He carried Walter into the bedroom and carefully laid him on the bed.
Walter sank into the mattress with a little moan of pleasure. His bed felt so good. Someone had done a good job picking out this mattress. Walter sleepily wrapped his arms around Lance’s neck. “Spend the night,” he demanded.
“I was planning to.” Lance peeled off Walter’s socks. “Do you want your jeans off?”
Walter grunted in a way that could be a yes. It didn’t matter to him. He was nearly asleep again anyway. Too bad he would be sleeping for their first night together while both human and out of the hospital.
Lance’s touch was delicate and tickling as he unbuttoned Walter’s jeans. His knuckles brushed Walter’s abdomen.
Walter made another small noise. His stomach fluttered.
Lance pulled Walter‘s zipper down. He tugged Walter’s jeans down over his hips and then hooked his fingers into the waistband to pull them off completely.
Now that Walter wasn’t wearing the tight jeans, he rolled onto his side and curled into a ball. He nuzzled the pillow and fell a little deeper into sleep.
When Lance crawled into bed with him and curled his body around Walter, Walter only registered him as warmth against his back. “Don’t tell me that you’ve been awake since I left you, little lovebird.”
Walter grumbled something to the effect of then don’t ask. He pushed back against Lance’s firm warmth. It was so different from sleeping wedged between two body pillows; Walter liked it so much that even his soul felt light with it. They were never getting out of this bed again. He was about to go back to sleep but after a few minutes of no success, Walter started squirming. With his two shirts and hoodie, Lance’s body heat was overheating Walter. He tried very hard to get Lance to do something about it. “Hot.”
Lance sat up.
Walter whined.
Lance chuckled, low and amused in a way that made Walter think he was smirking. Just he wait, Walter would get back at him for all his amusement. But he did what Walter wanted and quickly stripped Walter until all the younger man wore was boxers. When he settled against Walter’s back, he seemed even hotter than before. “Better?”
Walter hummed. Lance’s chest hair was soft and ticklish against Walter’s back. His arm was a heavy weight over Walter’s hip. Walter decided that he liked the feeling of Lance’s bare skin against his. He liked it a lot. Though he desperately craved sleep, Walter knew that humans could go eleven whole days without sleeping. The side effects weren’t permanent. So when he deliberately pushed back against Lance, he didn’t feel at all upset about losing out on more sleep.
“Oh,” Lance purred. “And here I thought you were tired. Did you just want me to carry you to bed?” His large hand splayed across Walter’s abdomen. He pushed his hips against Walter, his half hard cock pressed against Walter’s ass.
“Maybe.” That hadn’t actually been Walter’s plan. He’d meant to go in to work and then they could carpool home and get on with the sexy times. Walter was going to carry himself to bed and invite Lance to come with him. But that wasn’t what happened and they’d wound up here anyway. Walter wasn’t complaining. He arched against Lance.
Lance made a pleased rumbling noise in his throat. The hand that was on Walter’s abdomen slid down with an agonizing slowness to cup Walter through his boxers. His hand was hot.
As tired as he was, Walter’s body still responded to Lance’s touch. He moaned and canted his hips against Lance’s hand. The only person to ever touch him there was himself and he loved Lance’s hand on him. He loved that it made him hot inside and out.
Lance knew what to do, his fingers expertly stroking Walter to full hardness. His own cock was hard against Walter’s ass, hips still giving slight movements. He drew his hand away only to slip it beneath Walter’s boxers, skin on skin.
Walter’s breath caught. His cock twitched against Lance’s palm and a dribble of precum leaked from the head. Heat pooled just under the surface of his skin. He was sure he was going to overheat and die but Walter was okay with that if this was the way he went. Walter pushed at his boxers until they were around his thighs and it was only then that he realized Lance was completely naked. It sent up a warm thrill up his spine.
Without Walter’s boxers in the way, Lance was less constrained. He ran his thumb over the wet head of Walter’s cock and then down the underside of it, trailing a smear of precum. His cock pressed between Walter’s cheeks, hot and throbbing. It was smooth to the touch and thicker than Walter’s cock. Lance gave a few experimental thrusts then asked, “Do you have any lube?”
In the haze of exhaustion and lust, it took a moment for Walter to process the question. “Nightstand,” Walter conveyed. He threw out an arm for it but didn’t actually have any intentions of moving away from Lance to reach for the lube inside. Instead, he grabbed one of the comforters and gripped it tight as a wave of pleasure rocketed through him.
Lance did it for him. He spoiled Walter; he really did. In the process of reaching over Walter for the lube, Lance rolled on top of him. His weight firmly smooshed Walter into the mattress and pushed all the air from his lungs. It was only for a moment. Lance procured the lube then went back to his spot behind Walter instead of on top of him. “Did this come with the house?”
Walter made a noise in the negative. He sucked air back into his lungs. Lance weighed a lot more than he did but he really wanted Lance back on top of him.
Lance had other plans, though. He opened the lube and poured some into his hand. He slicked up his own cock and then used his slick hand to continue stroking Walter’s. “Planning to get lucky, little lovebird?”
Walter nodded. The lube made Lance just glide against him. His cock slid between Walter’s cheeks, the head catching on his hole every so often. It made Walter keen and writhe. It made him want more, want Lance in deep, even though he’d never done anything like that before. The handjob had been good before but now that it wasn’t so dry, Walter was sure that he was going to cum soon. The noise of Walter fucking into Lance’s fist was obscene.
Lance’s other hand smoothed up Walter’s chest and came to curl lightly around his throat. He was hesitant, unsure if this was okay.
Walter put his hand over Lance’s and squeezed lightly. Yes, Lance could kill him. Probably without a second thought, without doing it on purpose. But Walter trusted Lance with his body, with his life. He wasn’t sure how he felt about asphyxiation yet but he wanted to find out. Walter wanted to explore everything with Lance. His whole body ached with the desire for Lance’s hands on him.
With permission granted, Lance squeezed Walter’s neck a little harder. He was still being careful and that brought its own thrill. His rhythmic thrusts against Walter’s ass were a bit faster, a bit less controlled. Lance bowed his head to kiss Walter’s curls and nip at the tip of his ear. “So good,” he murmured with an appreciative moan.
The praise was like an electric current running through Walter. He shivered against Lance. He brought a hand up to the back of Lance’s shaved head, wanted him to bite again. Walter wasn’t going to last with all of the stimulation; his orgasm was approaching fast, balls drawing up tight. The pleasure was ascending to dizzying heights, made all the more so by how exhausted he still was and the hand around his throat. Walter hoped he didn’t pass out before he got to cum.
With every one of Lance’s thrusts, his cock left beads of precum on the small of Walter’s back. He applied the slightest bit more pressure to Walter’s breath, just enough to make Walter pant. His grip on Walter’s cock tightened too, gave him a tighter fist to fuck into, fingers swiping over the head periodically.
Walter shook with the pleasure. When he came it was with his head against Lance’s shoulder and his back arched deeply. He came onto Lance’s fingers, onto the body pillow he’d just bought. His orgasm left him boneless and so exhausted that he barely registered Lance was still grinding against his ass. Walter’s eyes slid shut. He was distantly aware of Lance moaning in his ear, of the hot semen spurting against his back.
Lance cleaned them both up and snuggled against Walter’s back. He said something but Walter couldn’t make out the words.
Sleep dragged Walter under and he welcomed it like a lover.