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Strahm unlocked the door to his apartment with a click, untying the knotted laces of his shoes and leaving them at the entrance. His socks padded softly across the wooden floors as he made his way to the bedroom, pausing down the hallway when he saw that it was partially open. He could’ve sworn he closed it earlier that morning.
What the fuck.
Strahm crept closer and slowly creaked the door open, jumping out of his skin as he saw a figure standing next to the window. The blinds were closed, bathing the room in darkness except for a faint glow that crept through. It did nothing to help Strahm decipher who was standing there. Not that he needed any assistance clueing in on who’s broad back was facing him.
Strahm tensed as the figure turned around to look at him.
“What the fuck.”
Hoffman’s face was unreadable, a fresh scar now adorned his right cheek. Strahm had heard that Jill had put him in a reverse bear trap, and with some quick thinking he had somehow managed to survive and get it off before it could snap his jaw open. Strahm had wondered how someone so idiotic could pull off a stunt like that. But it wasn't like hooking up with someone he knew was a jigsaw accomplice once or twice was a smart move either.
Definitely more than once or twice.
“Hey, Strahm.” He greeted cooly, walking forward to close the gap between them. He was immediately sent reeling a few steps back before he could get another word out, clutching his face where Strahm’s knuckles had made contact with it.
“Why are you here.” Strahm hissed. Hoffman had been missing since the whole Jill fiasco, the last Strahm had heard of him was during a tense interrogation with John Kramer’s ex-lover. He had relentlessly questioned her, desperate for any clue that would help him track down where he disappeared to. Now he just wants to show up to his home like this? Two months later?
“Nice to fucking see you too.” Hoffman barked, dropping his hand from where he had gingerly been touching his cheek. Strahm scowled.
“Sorry, didn’t know you were coming or else I would’ve stopped and gotten you a welcome home gift on the way here.”
“I had to wait for things to cool off. Didn’t think you would miss me so much or I would’ve left a note or something.”
Strahm scoffed. Miss him. What was there to miss about this oaf and his snarky attitude. Not to mention that he was a murderer, one Strahm was supposed to catch.
“Oh great, well now that you’re here let’s get you turned in.”
Hoffman grinned at that. It pissed Strahm off some more.
“Ok.” He shrugged his shoulders as he once again made his way to stand in front of Strahm. He looked up at him expectantly. “Turn me in then, Peter.”
Strahm didn’t reply, instead grabbed Hoffman roughly by his jacket as he pulled him into a desperate kiss. It was a dumb thing to even try and threaten him with. They both knew, much to Strahm’s dismay, that he would never do the right thing. Never slap a pair of handcuffs onto Hoffman’s wrists and drop him off at the station nice and gift wrapped. The amount of times this scenario had played out was getting embarrassing. Strahm threatening to drag his ass out of Strahm’s apartment or whatever shitty motel they were in and dump him off at the police’s feet, just to end up with Hoffman’s body against his as they clung onto each other like they were drowning and needed the other to stay afloat.
Strahm felt his face grow hot with flush as he smashed his lips against Hoffman’s, teeth nearly crashing against the other’s. The kiss was far from soft and pleasant, but nothing with them ever was. Everything had to be hot, an angry red as they clawed and bit and shoved. Pain was a show of passion, the burn of nails raking across skin and noses pressed too firmly against one another as their lips collided with a need.
They didn’t break apart as they made their way to the bed, Strahm sitting on the edge before falling backwards on the mattress as Hoffman climbed over him. Strahm slipped his tongue into Hoffman’s mouth, reaching a hand up to cup the side of his cheek. His fingers grazed over the textured skin of his scar, an angry stripe that served as the only evidence that it had been ripped open not long before. Strahm wondered if it was textured on the inside too.
He tilted his head as probed his tongue in the direction of his right cheek. Hoffman grunted, missing the warmth of the muscles pressing together. He began to move his head to chase after it, causing Strahm to grip his chin and hold him steady. His tongue flicked experimentally against the inside of his cheek, feeling the raised indent. He pressed his tongue against it again, running it over the lines and creases. Hoffman moaned into his mouth as he realized what the other was doing. Of course he’s fucking turned on by this.
Strahm pulled back, pressing a chaste kiss to Hoffman’s lips between pants.
“Get down.” He whispered, immediately followed by another hungry kiss. Hoffman kissed back with a grunt of acknowledgement, peppering kisses down Strahm’s body as he made his way down.
Strahm sat up as Hoffman slid off the bed. He pressed his lips into the crook of Strahm’s neck, who was fumbling with the buckle of his belt. Hoffman’s large hands slid down his torso before reaching the hem of Strahm’s pants, sliding his thumbs into them and shucking them, and his boxers, down as he knelt onto the floor. Hoffman rubbed along Strahm’s thighs, kneading and squeezing the flesh roughly as he kissed along the insides of them. Strahm’s hips twitched in a poorly concealed buck before grabbing Hoffman’s hair roughly, yanking his head away from where it was leaving a hickey, now blooming into a sickly purple color.
“Don’t forget who’s in charge here, you damn mutt.” He hissed as he roughly pulled his face into his crotch.
Hoffman slid his hands upwards to help hold himself up as his jaw went wide, lowering it down onto Strahm’s dick. Strahm let out an embarrassingly loud moan as his hand shot up to curl his fingers into Hoffman’s dark hair. Hoffman began bobbing up and down, hollowing his cheeks to further envelop Strahm’s cock in the wet warmth of his mouth. Strahm bucked into his mouth at the contact, the texture from Hoffman’s scar gingerly brushing against his length. It felt so good that Strahm thought he would happily tear Hoffman’s cheek to give him a matching one on the other side.
He wanted more. He grabbed Hoffman’s chin with his left hand so that his thumb was placed over the scar, pushing the cheek further in until it was rubbing right up against his cock. It felt delicious, causing Strahm to start face fucking the man beneath him at a brutal pace. Hoffman squeezed his thighs harder to hold himself still as Strahm thrusted up into him, letting out breathy pants and moans that caused Hoffman’s dick to twitch painfully against his pants.
“Fuck.” He gasped. “Your mouth is so perfect for me Mark. You should stop fucking talking so much and swallow my dick more instead.”
Hoffman furrowed his brows in anger at the remark and Strahm pushed his head all the way down before he could even think about pulling off, replacing the furious expression with one of surprise as he tried not to gag. Hoffman tried to focus on regaining his breathing rhythm as Strahm’s thrusts grew more sloppy, a sign that he was close.
Strahm came with a moan, shooting down into Hoffman’s throat. Hoffman pushed himself off with a gasp, sputtering as he caught his breath. He wiped the mix of cum and drool from off his chin as Strahm leaned back on his arms, chest heaving as he came down from his high. Hoffman rose to his feet and clambered onto the bed until he was practically straddling Strahm, pulling him into another filthy kiss that Strahm couldn’t refuse.
“I missed you too.” Hoffman murmured against his lips.