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Soft tappings of rain hit the window in an inconsistent rhythm as clouds rolled in over the streets of Edinburgh. Freshly stepped tea sat on the counter untouched, and there might have been music playing from the small radio on the windowsill. Simon was comfortable on the couch, wrapped in a worn hand-knit blanket from Johnny’s grandmother. His hair was starting to grow out of regulation with his time on leave, and the tips of the locks were beginning to brush his ears.
Quiet footsteps echoed from the kitchen behind him, the gentle clattering of pots and pans as Johnny looked for something unknown. His voice was a constant low hum as he rambled on about anything: his nan’s new flower garden, his nephew winning an award at school, the new journal he’d found at a corner shop. Simon felt at peace in the small apartment, safe from the rain and the outside world.
Johnny wandered in, holding a fresh cup of coffee in his hands to stave away the chill of the autumn rain.
“I was working on a new compound before leave started; I’m eager to return and finish it.” He mentioned offhandedly, sitting down across from Simon on the threadbare sofa. He hummed softly, gently moving the small blanket to rest on them.
“Does the Captain know?”
Johnny got that cheeky smile when he knew he was technically doing something wrong but knew he was too bright to make it cause trouble. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”
Simon huffed softly, shaking his head in fond exasperation. Johnny leaned over and brushed a slight curl back into place, his expression achingly soft.
“Tell me about it.”
The Scotsman brightened, an eager gleam in his eye now that he had permission to ramble to his heart's content. He began talking about everything pertaining to the compound he was developing: the optimal conditions for the most controlled explosion, exactly what ratio of bleach to use, and what structure points it can be used to knock down a building. Slowly, it devolved into him rambling about his favorite explosives.
“I had this mission before the 141 in Bristol.” Johnny was wildly motioning with his hands, excited. “Someone had put a set of charges on the Clifton bridge and called out my team to take care of it.”
Simon hummed, watching the way Johnny’s eyes creased with his smile, the lines of his face showing how far they’ve come, that they’re old enough to have crow's feet. So much of the world loathes the symbols of age, using surgeries and supplements to eliminate wrinkles and grey hairs. Soldiers long for them, yearn for them.
The man’s mohawk was splattered in soft grey, his stubble even more. Proof that they’ve lived, proof that they are alive. It’s something so subtle in your face that it makes Simon relax even further.
“I hadn’t realized the man was there until the charge only had a few minutes left.”
Simon took a sip of the tea, only lukewarm now, as he listened to the man ramble on. Still, it warmed him, a steady hum of comfort filling his core as he watched the man he loved talk. When Johnny looked at him, he could see the ocean in his eyes and the stars in his smile. He was by no means model perfect, with a slightly crooked nose from one too many breaks and a splatter of scars across his skin, but he was perfect to Simon.
“With only a few seconds to spare, I heard the explosive disengage, and I nearly pissed myself. I was so relieved!” And suddenly, Johnny was laughing. A bright, colorful laugh that could render anyone defenseless. “I hobbled away with-”
“You’ve told me this one before,” Simon commented softly, absentmindedly.
Johnny blinked as his concentration had broken. “Oh, I have?”
Simon hummed, taking the sergeant’s arm and pulling him closer to rest on his chest. “Tell me more.”
“You sure? I’ve been talking for nearly an hour.” Johnny commented, glancing at the clock as the sun set, bathing the room in golden light.
“Keep talking, love.”
Johnny waited a moment before beginning to retell a story of when he’d stolen Gaz’s hat and switched it with Price’s. Simon chuckled softly, already knowing the story well, too. He leaned back against the sofa cushions, listening to his sergeant’s steady tone. He slowly raised a hand, carding it through the grown-out mohawk with practiced ease.
Johnny’s head rested against his chest, pausing occasionally to enjoy the moment.
“Keep going,” Simon murmured. “You said he’d made a bet with you?”
Johnny nodded softly, his eyes closing as he kept talking. The lines on his face had smoothed out, making him appear younger in his arms. It reminded him of the baby-faced private he’d met all those years ago; he couldn’t believe there was ever a time before he was hopelessly in love with the man in his arms.
Simon leaned down and kissed the soft smile on the sergeant’s face, feeling the man relax into him further and lean up for more. It’s quiet in the apartment again, only quiet rain taps and a low humming on the radio. It’s peaceful, but Simon’s had enough quiet in his life.
He pulls back to kiss the man’s browbone, murmuring against the skin, “What happened next?”
Johnny chuckled faintly in his arms, his voice as soft as a whisper as he began talking again. Simon cupped his face in a tender hold, moving his face to the side to kiss the scar on his forehead. It was a bitter reminder of how human they were but also a beautiful testament to the strength of the man he loved so dearly.
Johnny looked up at him with those bright eyes; Simon could hear the waves in his head and the sand under his feet. He kissed the man’s forehead again.
“I told him I had it under control, but he still insisted I was a blathering idiot.”
Simon hummed, leaning down to press fond kisses down the sergeant’s jaw. He heard the man sigh quietly, tilting his chin up for more room while he kept talking. Simon caressed the man’s throat, feeling the hum of his vocal cords under his touch. He reached down along the hem of the man’s shirt, glancing up for permission.
He was met with Johnny’s affectionate smile and a steady raise of arms, asking him to pull it off. The fabric was carefully discarded and placed on the coffee table to be dealt with later.
“What happened next?” Simon leaned down to kiss the man’s chest, feeling his stuttered breath under his lips, and smiled.
“She said I wasn’t supposed to be at the gun range after hours without an appointment.” Johnny’s hands gently tangled into the man’s golden locks, curling them around his fingers as he continued rambling. “So I lied and said I did have an appointment.”
“Why?”
Johnny chuckled, a subtle flush settling over his cheeks. “I was… pent up.”
Simon hummed, slowly undoing the man’s belt buckle. “From the op?”
“You could say that.”
Simon slowly pulled down the man’s jeans when the sergeant didn’t stop him, kissing along the hem of his boxers. He could already feel the heat of the man’s body rising the more he revered it, quiet worship in the small apartment.
“I was on that mission, no?”
Johnny chuckled, cupping the man’s cheek and bringing him to look at him. “Why do you think I was pent-up?”
Simon flushed softly, blinking softly at him before scoffing quietly. “Sap.”
“You make me sappy, Simon.”
They giggled intimately together, Simon’s hands still holding the man’s hips in a firm hold yet so gentle.
“Keep talking?”
Johnny leaned back, enjoying the man’s touch as he recalled his time trying to enlist. Simon kissed the space between the man’s boxers, feeling him twitch under the kiss. He looped his hand around the hem and pulled down, exposing the man in all glory.
“He called my hair dumb so-”
“It is dumb.” Johnny scoffed before it tapered into a choked gasp when Simon kissed the tip of his cock. “Wouldn’t be surprised if you shaved your pubes into a mohawk at this point.”
“I wouldn’t-”
His hands tightened around the man’s curls as Simon took him into his mouth, licking along the man’s trembling form.
“Don’t go quiet on me now, love. Wanna hear you.”
Johnny stifled a weak moan as he kept talking, “H-He… called my hair dumb, so we got into a-a bit of a scuffle.”
Simon hummed around the man’s cock, feeling the man’s hips stutter at the sensation, and a sharp inhale escaped him. Johnny arched into the touch, pushing the lieutenant’s mouth further onto his weeping cock. Simon chuckled, bobbing him head as he pulled more pleasured moans from the trembling man. He pulled off for a moment, kissing the leaking tip.
“Come on, love. I wanna know how the story ends.”
Johnny gasped, his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as he pulled at the man’s hair.
“Y-You’re killing me, Si-”
Simon wrapped a sizeable calloused hand around the base of the man’s cock, sitting for extra slick as he slowly moved it along the shaft. “That so?”
“Simon!” The man whined, jerking his hips for more.
“Keep talking, Johnny.”
The sergeant bit his lips, quivering as he sucked in a shaky breath. “H-He punched me-”
“Mmhmm,” Simon smirked, kissing the man’s thighs as he ran his hand from the base of the man’s cock to the tip, swiping a thumb through the pre-cum. “So what did you do?”
“I-I-” Johnny gasped as his cock twitched in the man’s hold. “I s-shoved him into h-his car-”
Simon chuckled, leaning down to take the man into his mouth again. Johnny pulled at his hair, forcing him down until Simon’s nose was buried into the man’s hair. The lieutenant could feel his eyes fluttering as he let out a quiet moan.
“S-Shit, Simon-” He knew the man was close, just on the edge of finishing. He raised a hand to tap on the man’s mouth, silently demanding to keep speaking. “I-I locked him i-in the car, a-and left-”
Simon hummed, proud he finished the entire story and put more effort into sucking the man, swirling around the tip as he bobbed down. Johnny gasped, his legs scrambling for purchase as he felt himself finally hit the edge. Salty heat filled Simon’s mouth, and he struggled to swallow it all down.
Johnny collapsed back onto the sofa, panting weakly. The lieutenant chuckled, pulling off the man’s cock and licked away any remaining cum.
“Shit, Simon… Why’d you do all that?”
“I like hearing you talk, love.” He reached up and kissed the man, Johnny smiling into the kiss.
“Usually, people get annoyed when I talk for that long…”
Simon leaned down to rest his head on the man’s chest, wrapping a hand around the man’s throat to feel his vocal cords vibrate and feel the sergeant’s heartbeat under his head.
“Never me… tell me another?”
Johnny just smiled, sighing in content as he began retelling another story Simon had heard a thousand times.