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Anyone would get a little stir-crazy after being stuck in the NEST for three days. But Finn was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining William shooting him ‘fuck me’ eyes from across the lab.
Finn knew the look. It was the kind that he had been giving William for years; albeit in a much more calculated manner. There was nothing graceful about the looks William had been giving him now, and Finn thought it just short of a miracle that no one had gone off to gossip to Annette. It wasn’t as though she’d blame Finn, but it would cause William a hell of a lot of trouble, and that was something Finn preferred to avoid.
Still.
It was driving him fucking crazy.
It wasn’t just his eyes. Those were easy to ignore; Finn could avert his gaze whenever William peered towards him. Avoiding his touch, however, when Finn wanted nothing more than to feel William’s hands all over his body — that was something else.
It had started with little things. Innocuous touches that could be brushed off as friendly, even if William was never the ‘friendly touching’ type. A hand against the small of Finn’s back was William’s greeting when he’d caught him in the hallway. Finn had gasped, knees near buckling beneath him, and chalked it up to surprise when William laughed and prodded him about it.
He’d kept his hand there, smiling down at him, and asked, “Are you busy?” Finn was, in fact, busy — but he trusted his senior assistant to carry things out without him for a little while. So, he’d said no. He was sure she would understand. And then William’s innocuous, “Can I borrow you for a bit?”
‘A bit’ always meant that Finn would be stuck in the lab for a day or two longer than anticipated, but he didn’t mind if it was William who was by his side. It’s not like he’d known the kind of torture he’d be putting up with.
Then he’d started praising Finn. Oh , the praises. William never gave praise, and Finn was all-too starved for compliments and attention — especially his. So when William had come up behind Finn and leaned in over him to check his work, clasped a hand over his shoulder, and said, “Good work, Finn,” he had to take a moment to regain his composure. It wasn’t as if William had called him a ‘good boy’ or anything, but it was enough, and Finn still had to excuse himself to catch his breath before he passed out.
Finn wasn’t sure what it was that was driving him crazy. He worked with William on almost a daily basis, had known him for nearly five years — was it the reciprocation? Or maybe the implication of their new routine; sharing drinks and good conversation after a long stint at the lab. Finn could live with pining; an innocent, one-sided crush that would never go anywhere. William’s eyes on him for just a few seconds too long, the lingering, gentle touches.. That was harder to deal with.
And William was being a fucking bastard for giving him that kind of hope.
When they’d broken away from their work for a break at the cafe (with more than a little insistence from Finn), William had grabbed him by the hips and moved him out of the way with a soft, “Excuse me.” His fingers had spread out just below his waist, an inch short of Finn being able to chastise out for inappropriate behavior. It only lasted a few moments, not long enough for Finn to say anything, but the feeling of William’s thumbs pressing into his hip bones lingered.
As Finn sat back down, he squeezed his thighs together and tried to ignore the ghostly touches on his skin as the seam of his jeans brushed against his groin. William smiled at him across from the table and sipped his second cup of coffee, frustratingly feigning ignorance.
Later, alone in William’s personal lab, tucked away within the farthest reaches of NEST, Finn thought to figure out what was going on.
With the best tact he could muster up, Finn asked, “Why are you acting so strange today?”
William knit his brows in confusion — fake confusion , Finn thought. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been—“ Finn paused to find the right words, thinking better of using ‘handsy,’ “— affectionate.” That didn’t sound right, either.
“Affectionate?” William scoffed, that stupidly attractive half-smirk half-smile of his painted on his face. “Because I gave you a few compliments?”
“No— I mean… Uh…” Finn chewed on his lip, again , the skin nearly worn raw. “Affectionate isn’t the right word. I-I’m a scientist, Will, not an English major, I’m not—”
“Good,” William smiled a bit wider, something more genuine than cheeky. “I think I’d be doomed if you were.” He waved his hand and turned back around. “Back to work.”
Finn tried his best to hide his flushed cheeks and changed the topic.
“Give me your notes on the cellular mutations in your newest Hunter model, please.”
“Oh, yeah— Just one second..” Finn shuffled through his papers for a moment before he came across the manilla folder he was looking for. Just as Finn began to turn, William came up behind him, leaning over to take the folder from his hands. He lingered a moment too long, just enough for Finn to feel the warmth of his skin and smell his freshly washed cotton lab coat.
Breathe .
“You alright, Finn?”
In .
“Fine.”
Out .
“Good.” William put on a cheeky half-smile, nodded, and retreated to his corner of the room.
They usually worked so well together, but Finn couldn’t bring himself to properly focus. How was he supposed to think about mutagens and hormone levels and Hunters when all Finn couldn’t scrub the thought of William touching him from his mind? Finn was surprised he hadn’t suffocated in the thick, heavy air — at some point he peeled his lab coat off just to relieve a sliver of his hot unease. William was either oblivious to Finn’s discomfort or all-too-aware of his effects on his composure, and Finn wasn’t sure which was more frustrating.
There was a brief moment of respite as the electronic door slid open, releasing the stale, pent-up laboratory air. Finn recognized Annette just by the click of her heels and looked up to give her a friendly smile. She’d dressed down from her work clothes into a pair of jeans and comfortable t-shirt, her lab coat draped over her arm.
Finn set down his pencil and swiveled his chair around to face her, setting his hands in his lap. “Heading home?”
“Yeah.” She pushed up her glasses to rub her eye, fingers tracing over the dark marks beneath it. “Can only use the nap pods for so long before I need a real bed.” Her lips nearly curled into a smile, but it was lost somewhere between exhaustion and annoyance as she turned to William. “Are you coming home anytime soon?”
“No.” William barely glanced over his shoulder. “Why would I want to go home and sleep on the couch when I can keep working?”
Annette stiffened. The other only indication of her irritation was the corner of her mouth twitching as she sighed and turned to look at Finn. “You should come up for some air. Do you want to—”
“I need him.” William cut in. “Those interns from Chicago aren’t worth a fucking thing.”
Annette was offering him a lifeline. But… Finn didn’t want to leave. William’s behavior was certainly.. odd and distracting and frustrating , but… He wanted to savor what little affection William was offering him. It made him feel a twinge of guilt, especially when his wife was standing right in front of him, but Finn was no stranger to that feeling.
Finn flashed Annette a smile and shrugged. “It’s fine. Once I get into the groove, you know— Hard to stop.”
I’m pretty sure your husband is coming on to me and I don’t want to give that up.
“If you say so.” She didn’t look satisfied by Finn’s answer, but dipped her head in understanding. Shifting her coat to her other arm, Annette added, “You’re not letting William’s habits rub off on you, are you?”
Finn grinned. “It’s a little bit late for that, Annie.” He turned his chin over his shoulder towards William, who was still hovering over his desk with his back turned. “I’ll call you when I’m topside.”
Annette left. Finn waited a minute before saying anything again, absent-mindedly scribbling in the margins of his lined note paper.
“The couch again, huh?”
William didn’t look up. “Mm-hm.”
“What’d you do this time?”
“I didn’t start it.”
Finn scoffed, a teasing tinge to his tone. “You never do.”
Finn waited for a response — a lukewarm defense like William always offered — and didn’t get one. He wondered briefly if he’d said something out of turn, but Finn always said things like that, and William never got genuinely angry. His cheeks warmed, and he prayed he hadn’t ruined the mood.
The hands on the wall clock crept forward.
Their studies shifted from skimming files to studying slides under microscopes. It was hard to say how long it had been since Annette left, but Finn and William had shared few words — requests, confirmations, bluntly-answered questions. Finn twisted the knob on his microscope carelessly, watching the slide pop in and out of focus. He’d done something wrong. Spoken out of turn. Was William mad at him? Had he ruined his chances?
Chances . Finn squeezed the plastic knob tighter. What chances? He’s married. You’re his protege.
Then, his prosthetic hand seized around the knob, fingers sputtering and shaking. Finn, cursing to himself, used his other hand to pry it off. He quickly massaged the mechanical joints in the hopes they’d work themselves out — to no avail.
Umbrella tech. Top of the line . Sure.
Peering up towards William, Finn felt a twist of shame. He hated asking for help. But sometimes his prosthetic arm didn’t quite behave and it made the little things, like fine-tuning the focus on a microscope, a pain in the ass. It was even worse when William would come up and shoo him away and do the work for him, like they weren’t both prodigies in their own right. Annette, at least, on the rare occasions they worked together, used a guiding hand instead of a patronizing one.
“Hey, uh, Will?” He called, clearing his throat, as if he hadn’t just been helplessly worrying that William hated him for a little joke. “Can you give me a hand?” He lifted his hand and flexed his quivering fingers to make a point. “Mine’s not listening to me.”
To Finn’s surprise, William’s playful reply shot back. “Do you need me to complain and get you another one again?”
He looked away as William approached, trying to hide his reddening cheeks, and curled his fingers around the knob. “Not when I can get you to do everything for me. I just can’t quite—”
Finn gasped as William came up behind him, unceremoniously pressing his chest right up against his back. He was warm. So warm. The feeling of William’s body so close, pushed into him, was more than enough to make Finn’s heart race.
“Can’t quite what?” William asked.
“Fine-tune,” Finn bit back his gasp. “It’s— Hard.”
“Right,” William said. “Look down the eyepiece and tell me when, alright?”
As Finn bent down to the eyepiece, William shifted closer. Finn felt him leaning in over his shoulder, breath hot against his neck. Even as the culture came into clear view under the microscope, Finn found himself focused on trying to ignore the sensation of William’s chest pressed into his back, the soft hand carefully guiding his own. It was proving to be very, very hard; only made more difficult when he felt a hand brushing over his side, pressing firmly into his hip. That was finally enough for him to say something.
“William.” Finn tried to sound firm, but his voice came out in a whine. “What are you doing?”
“You wanted my help.” Finn could hear his smirk. “Is this not helpful?”
“U-Uhm—” Couldn’t William feel the heat coming off of Finn just from how flustered he was? “Not.. N-Not really.”
“Maybe you’ve been down here too long. We both have.” William murmured, far too close for comfort. His words tickled the shell of Finn’s ear. He was beginning to feel unsteady on his feet, head swimming, craving . “Maybe we both need a break.”
Slowly, but still far too quickly in Finn's mind, William pulled his hand back, coaxing Finn’s hips into his own with it. Even through the layers of clothing, Finn could feel the heat rolling off William’s body, and.. Something hard pressing against him through his jeans.
Finn’s breath caught in his throat and he suddenly stood up straight, spinning around, pushing William away. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening . He wanted it to be, he had imagined something just like this before, but now it was real , William was really touching him like that, whispering things in his ear, practically pressing him into the table—
Finn nearly pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“William—” Finn breathed, then shook his head; now was not the right time for casualty. “ Dr. Birkin. This doesn’t seem appropriate.”
Having William’s hands off of him didn’t help. Finn could still feel his hands drifting over his body. The scent of antiseptic and cotton and musk lingered in his nose, so wonderfully dizzying.
William took a step back, raising his hands up as if he were defending himself. “Sorry.” His cheeks were starting to turn a shade of pink, too. He was apparently more embarrassed from being called out for his behavior than he was for doing it. “I didn’t mean.. I just—”
“It’s fine.” Finn said quickly. He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath, but now he was practically panting. “I mean, I..” I want you to touch me like that again . Finn bit his tongue, swiping his gaze down William’s figure. The glint of William’s wedding band, shining in the pale lab light, caught Finn’s eye and his stomach did a backflip. No, no, this is a horrible idea, don’t even think about it—
“You.. What?”
William was giving him a look, like he had no idea what Finn was talking about. How dare he pretend to not be complicit in this? He was the one who’d been touching Finn, breathing in his ear, sliding his hands all over his body, pressing his hard-on against his ass—
Bastard.
Finn hadn’t made the conscious decision to take a step forward. But he did — and then another, and another, until he was standing in front of William, nearly as close as they’d been before. He wasn’t going to get more explicit permission than this. It was wrong , but if Finn didn’t take his chance now, who knew if he’d ever get it again? It was something he’d fantasized about for years, and here it was, within reach.
Annette wasn’t there. Nobody was. It was two in the morning. Just the pair of them, alone together in the farthest reaches of the laboratory. No one had to know. No one would know. What was so wrong if it was just the two of them, taking comfort in each other?
William watched him like a hawk, expression unreadable, save for a glint of anticipation — amusement? — in his eyes. Suddenly, Finn grabbed William’s tie, yanking him down enough to capture his lips in a kiss. It was sloppy, open-mouthed, and Finn could feel William’s teeth bump ungracefully into his own, but Finn couldn’t have asked for anything more. William’s lips were soft and warm and tasted bitter; like cigarettes and shitty, stale coffee, but he was still nearly the sweetest thing Finn had ever tasted.
William’s hands were all over him as soon as their lips met. He wrapped his arms around Finn’s waist, pulling their bodies together so there was no space left between them. His presence was suffocating in all the right ways; blocking out the sharp smells and sounds of the laboratory, leaving them, only them , clasped in each other’s arms.
Finn let go of William’s tie, lifting his hands to clasp them around his face instead. William was more forceful than he’d been before, his worry of repercussion or Finn’s rejection shoved to the back of his mind. He pushed Finn against the table again, gripping his hips again to pull them closer to his own.
William was the first to pull away, groaning as he ground his hips into Finn’s. The friction did little for Finn, but even just the thought of William grinding against him had warmth spreading between his thighs. All of William’s little games throughout the day had left him a mess, and now his body was begging for attention.
Finn was the first to speak in the heavy silence between their kiss. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“I have some idea.” William replied, breathless. “Think I don’t notice the way you look at me? You aren’t subtle.”
“Says you.” Finn ran his thumb down William’s lips, wanting nothing more than to taste him again. “You’re the most oblivious man I’ve ever met.”
Irritation, then mild amusement, as the corner of William’s lips curled into a smirk. Finn had always dreamed about William looking at him like that; icy blue eyes warmed by lust, caressing his lips and neck and trailing lower and lower..
William peered over Finn’s shoulder. He scanned the table, an organized mess of cultures and half-written research papers, and scrunched up his nose. Finn could see William mentally cursing himself for not entirely thinking this through. A part of him knew better than to shove days worth of work aside, but the other had far more dire things on mind than neatly organizing everything to give William enough room to fuck him. Nothing, even this, would come in the way of their research. Obviously .
“My, uh.. Standards aren’t very high..” Finn nodded at the floor.
“Huh?” William followed Finn’s gaze, perking up with realization. “Oh. Oh . Yeah. O-Okay.”
William pulled him in this time. He was ungraceful; unskilled, maybe, or just desperate, but so was Finn, and neither seemed to care. They fell to the floor in an unrefined heap. William swiftly pushed Finn into the white tile and climbed on top of him, pulling away to run his lips over his neck. He left bright red welts and bitemarks in his wake, but Finn couldn’t bring himself to care. They were tangible evidence that William really was on top of him, that this wasn’t just some crazy hallucination induced by chemical fumes and sleep deprivation.
The air cooled on Finn’s damp skin as William sat back on his haunches, working eagerly at Finn’s clothing. His shoes came off first, then his belt and jeans and boxer briefs until he was left in only his white button-up. He felt exposed while William was still fully dressed, running his hands all over his bare thighs. The air nipped at his flesh, spreading goosebumps across his skin — though that could’ve just been from William touching him.
“You want this,” William murmured, “Right?”
Finn slowly parted his legs.
William leaned over him again, a hand pressing against the floor beside Finn’s head. His lips were on Finn’s neck again, kissing his jaw as his free hand quickly undid his belt. He only bothered to undress as far as pulling the front of his slacks open and tugging his boxers down; just enough to pull out his hard cock.
A startled gasp escaped Finn as he felt the warm head sliding against his heat, followed by a strained whimper. William wasn’t teasing, Finn was sure of it, but it certainly felt like he was.
“Fuck,” William breathed out, voice muffled against Finn’s skin, “You’re wet.”
“S’ your fault.” Finn forced out a breathless laugh in an attempt to calm his nerves. “Bastard.”
William mumbled something Finn didn’t catch and pressed forward. The head of his cock pushed against Finn’s slick entrance, his body offering little resistance to the intrusion.
Finn hadn’t realized how much he’d been shaking until he lifted his hands and gripped William’s waist. Was it fear? Excitement? Anxiety? He was panting, heart pounding in his ears, so overwhelmingly hot that Finn was sure he was on the verge of a heatstroke. His emotions blurred together so incomprehensibly that he wasn’t sure what to think , let alone do.
So Finn settled for staring up at the ceiling, breathing hard as William stretched him open with his thick cock, filling him up in ways he’d only ever dreamed of. When he finally bottomed out, their hips pressed flush together, he let out a shuddering sigh, pulling away to look at Finn.
Finn still couldn’t look at William, but he heard the worry in his tone when he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Finn replied quickly, stifling a whine as William shifted, his pelvis grinding against his clit, “This is just, a-a lot—“
“Do you want to stop?”
“No!” He gasped, “No, no, please, just—“ Exhaling, Finn tore his gaze away from the ceiling to face William and immediately felt another wave of heat wash over him. William was flustered, swollen lips parted as he panted, his pupils blown wide. Afraid it was a dream that could end at any moment, Finn grabbed William’s face and pulled him down into another kiss. He tucked in a knee, soft inner thigh brushing against William’s waist as he wrapped it around his hip.
“Please fuck me,” He whimpered against William’s lips.
William didn’t need more encouragement than that. He pulled out, only partially, before thrusting into Finn’s soft, pliant body once more. He set a pace; neither gentle nor slow, rough without meaning to be. He pounded into Finn with short, sloppy thrusts that rocked him into the floor. Any finesse or skill was dulled by a sense of desperate urgency. Finn wasn’t used to that kind soft, adept lovemaking anyways; all that mattered was who was on top of him.
Finn felt the knot of tension, built up and pulled tighter by years of yearning and aching , unraveling with each thrust. After so many years of pining, of little looks, of hunger , William was really here, really fucking him . It wasn’t something Finn had ever let himself think would be real, yet..
William slid his digits between Finn’s wet slit, fumbling for a few moments until he found his clit. He pressed his fingers flat against it, rubbing in quick, rhythmic circles. An all-too familiar pressure began to grow in Finn’s groin, the sensitive nub throbbing eagerly at William’s touch. Finn choked on sob and shook his head, squeezing William’s waist with his thighs. God fucking help him if he was going to cum so soon after they’d just started.
“No?” William was breathless, panting hard.
“Not now.” Finn replied, just as winded. “N-Not yet.”
William, though confused, nodded and settled for gripping Finn’s thigh instead. He squeezed the soft flesh in his palm and Finn found himself praying William would leave his fingerprints bruised into his thighs.
The sound of sweaty skin-against-skin was enough to drive Finn mad alone. But with William’s hands on him? The deliciously suffocating weight holding him down, the bittersweet lips moving desperately against his own— Whether he liked it or not, the threat of orgasm began rising again, threatening to electrify his nerves and spill over into oh-so-sweet release.
“ Fuck ,” Finn cried, draping his arms around William’s neck, “You feel so good.”
Finn could feel William grin against his lips. He opened his mouth to respond, only to shut it again quickly in an attempt to stifle a strangled groan.
“Let me hear you,” Finn squeezed William’s waist between his legs, sucking in short, whiny breaths, “ Please, Will.”
He shook his head, sharply inhaling, pinching his lip between his teeth as he teetered on the edge of self-control — only for an ungraceful whine to tumble from his throat. He looked embarrassed, if only for a moment, before he whimpered again, gasping and moaning. His head dipped down to rest against Finn’s shoulder, his voice muffled against the fabric of his shirt.
It wasn’t the kind of noise Finn had ever imagined William making, but he was not complaining.
Finn moaned back, sliding his hands across William’s body hungrily. One traced up the back of his neck, tangling in his sweaty, sandy-blond hair; the other wrapped around William’s torso, pulling him as close as he could. The sharp dagger of need pressed further into Finn’s belly. William couldn’t contain himself now that he’d let himself slip. Sharp, helpless, needy noises escaped him in tandem with his thrusts, sending Finn closer and closer to his release.
“ Finn, ” William groaned.
“Oh, Will, P-Please— Please say my name again—”
“Jesus Christ, Finn, fuck —”
“Don’t stop.” The muscles in Finn’s body drew tenser and tighter by the second. His thighs squeezed around William’s hips, pulling him as close as he could. “Just like that, please —”
Heat and pleasure overwhelmed him, the feeling growing thinner and thinner until he couldn’t take anymore and he overflowed . Seizing, body squeezing around William, Finn came with a helpless cry. The waves of pleasure lapped at his nerves, radiated heat all throughout his body as William continued to pound into him.
“That’s— That’s right. Fuck ,” William buried his nails into Finn’s thighs, panting hard , “you feel so good—”
William desperately shoved his hips into Finn’s as deep as he could as he came, weight pressing, pinning him into the tile. Warmth pulsed within Finn as William ground into him; the thought alone of William using his body to get off like that sent Finn spiraling, and here he really was, buried so deep—
Finn pulled William’s head up by his hair and kissed him hard .
He could’ve laid there forever, William’s cock inside him, groin sticky and cum dripping down his thighs; their lips molded together in a lazy warm kiss. But eventually, William moved; sat back on his haunches and tucked himself away. Finn could breathe again without William’s weight on him, but it didn’t feel good — it was too easy. Fighting off the dizzy feeling, Finn sat up, squeezing his legs together. Quite suddenly, he felt very exposed.
Why wasn’t William looking at him?
The lingering tendrils of pleasure dissipated quickly. Finn grabbed his discarded clothing and followed William’s lead, re-dressing and rising to his feet, albeit shakily.
“Did I do something wrong?” Anxiety clawed at him — only made worse when William barely glanced up to acknowledge him from the other side of the room.
“No— No , Finn,” William exhaled, voice shaking. “I— I think you should go home.”
“W-What?” Finn leaned against the desk — the desk William had nearly fucked him against — for support. “Really, Will. A-Are you upset with me?”
“I’m sorry. I—” William cleared his throat. Still, he wouldn’t look at Finn. “I think I made a mistake.”
Sorry? A fucking mistake? Finn felt a spark of anger, only for it to immediately be smothered by a much more nauseating feeling — disappointment. Disappointment and guilt and worry that he’d ruined everything , just after it had all gone right for just one moment—
“I-I’ll go,” Finn said softly, swallowing the urge to cry. The good feeling was gone, suffocated by just a few words. Nothing felt quite right; his lips were puffy and red, hair disheveled, and the crotch of his boxers were uncomfortably wet. Red welts speckled his sore neck. Finn donned his lab coat and popped the collar to conceal them.
“I’m sorry, Finn—” William tried to say again, but Finn was already hurrying out of the lab.
That was it, then. A fucking mistake. Finn scolded himself, Of course it was a mistake. He’s married. How could I ever think…
Finn pressed on, down the halls, past the lobby and on to the employee tram. His mind raced between anger and betrayal, guilt and sadness. Five years of friendship hadn’t been worth ten minutes of fulfilled fantasy.
How can we ever come back from that?
Later, Finn undressed and slipped into the steaming shower; ran his fingers down his pale thighs, tracing the soft red bruises imprinted on his skin. He studied the pattern of William’s sporadic touch, sighed softly, and slipped his fingers between his legs.