Work Text:
“Cheers, sir.”
It burned down Tom’s throat, then the soothing warmth coursed through his body, making his head dizzy and loosening him up.
“The guy was dodgy from the start.” Troy took a sip. “But a gambling addict? Didn’t see that coming.”
“Neither did I.”
“He constantly borrowed money from his sister and came up with the most ridiculous excuses.”
“And of course he couldn’t give her any of it back,” Tom replied rather unimpressed. “He had already lost all of it. But his sister found out and wanted back what was hers. The argument got out of hand, she took the dagger...”
Troy shook his head. “And all because of gambling. Bloody stupid to get involved in something like that.” He snorted slightly.
“It can happen quicker than you think.”
“Then you just have to be more careful about what you come into contact with.”
Tom gave him a puzzled look from the side. “It’s not something you choose on purpose, Troy. Sometimes life takes you down unusual paths.”
“Well, some people just seem to have a weak mind,” Troy replied and finished his glass in one gulp.
“Don’t be so hasty with your assumptions again,” Tom said, staring into his drink. “Eventually, we all reach a point where we feel drunk on something. Doesn’t really matter what it is.” He took the last sip and put the empty glass back on the counter. “From time to time, we all need something to help us cope better.”
“Better cope with what, sir?”
“With life, Troy.”
“Oh.” He suddenly seemed more thoughtful. “So it’s about finding a balance between one thing and the other, right, sir?”
“I suppose so.”
Troy’s youthful recklessness often made Tom smile. Although sometimes he had to intervene and stop him when he went too far with his accusations or talked about things he simply had no idea about. But that was all right, he was still young, he still had plenty of time to learn.
As they left the pub, the biting cold stung Tom’s cheeks like a thousand tiny needles. Tom turned up the collar of his coat and pulled his scarf tight. The comforting feeling the alcohol had given him had already faded again.
“Where did I put them?” Tom searched impatiently in the pockets of his coat. “Ah, there they are,” he muttered and pulled out his keys, his breath fogging the air around him. He was just about to unlock his car when he felt Troy’s eyes on him. He turned to his sergeant.
Snowflakes lay on Troy’s dark hair, his cheeks had turned rosy, perhaps from the drinks or the cold... or...
Tom knew that look. He knew what it meant.
It had never worked out in the last few weeks. There was always something to do that took up all Tom’s time. And then he hadn’t been sure whether Troy... still wanted to.
They exchanged a look, a silent conversation that needed no words to convey their feelings. Tom just nodded, and they got into their cars and drove out into the cold night. Their destination was the same.
Tom couldn’t remember who had made the first move. One day they had ended up in the same pub as tonight to celebrate a little after a nerve-wracking but finally completed investigation. As the evening progressed, their words became less and less coherent. Their thoughts wandered, lost in a haze of lust. It was an evening like this one, only warmer.
“I’ve missed this,” Tom said huskily, his voice echoing in Troy’s bedroom.
“The way you taste, the way you feel.”
He was amazed again and again at how perfectly their lips moved towards each other, touched, and then gently parted again, and it felt so good, so right.
“Could hardly think about anything else today,” Troy hummed in between tender kisses. “I would have loved to do it right there in the pub.”
“Yeah? Where would we have done it?”
“Where nobody would have noticed. Somewhere further back, in an unlocked storeroom or something.”
Tom laughed. “Well, not exactly the best place for this.”
“Not really. But it wouldn’t have bothered you any longer if I had buried my face in your crotch.”
Tom swallowed.
“Your trousers would have been in the way, we would have had to get you out of them quickly.”
“Mhm.”
“Ahh I can imagine it so well, how you are bent over empty bottle crates, your legs spread apart.”
“And then?” Tom bit back a groan.
“And just one room away, the pub is packed and we can still hear the faint sound of music and laughter as I taste you,” Troy whispered in his ear and Tom felt his face heat up, “where I’ve never tasted you before. To get you nice and wet.”
The bed creaked under the weight of their movements. Tom could feel Troy’s smile against his chest, could hear the soft giggle that escaped his lips. It was a joyful sound, and it filled Tom with a sense of contentment he had never known before.
He looked down at Troy and watched as he sucked on his nipples. Tom arched his back, pressed his head back against the pillow and let out a low moan.
It had started to snow heavily outside and the world was freezing. But the sheets beneath them were soaked with sweat, their skin reddened with heat and passion. He held Troy tight and started to suck on the sensitive skin under his collarbone until it turned purple. Soft sighs escaped from Troy’s lips. However, Tom would never leave visible traces. But he knew that these small marks would still be there under Troy’s suit when he sat opposite him in the office again on Monday morning. It gave Tom a special kind of rush.
“But…” Troy began, suddenly becoming more and more timid as he continued speaking, “do you want to know what I would have rather done… than making out with you in a storeroom?”
“Tell me.”
“I wanted to kiss you right there at the bar. As if nobody was there, just the two of us.”
Tom leaned over him, cupped his face and looked at him closely. Troy’s eyes were full of longing. Longing for him. Yes, he had a sincere side too. A vulnerable side. His Troy was loving and loyal.
Tom wished he could give him everything he wanted, all of himself, no matter where they were or who was watching them. If only it were that easy...
He kissed his forehead, murmuring, “that would be lovely,” into his hairline.
Maybe all of this was about something else entirely. Something deeper. Something they both needed.
They kissed lazily, both too exhausted to do more than press close together under the blankets. Troy yawned and stretched and Tom put his arm around him, burying his face against his torso. Troy inhaled deeply, breathing in his scent, and nuzzled into the hair on his chest as he slipped a leg between Tom’s. He would be able to stay a little longer, enjoying the aftermath, before he had to leave Troy alone again.
“Sir, have you ever been addicted to something?” he whispered, his voice muffled.
Tom stroked his fingers through Troy’s soft hair and caressed him as his breathing deepened. Sighing, he closed his eyes and snuggled closer to him, into the warmth that would now last longer.
“Yes, Troy, I was. And I am still.”
