Work Text:
It was hot. God, it was hot. March was sprawled out in his bed and it felt like hell. His window was wide open but all that flowed through his room was warm air. He didn't have a fan and he was miserable. He knew he needed to get up and dressed before Healy came over to talk a new case but fuck, he couldn't bring himself to. It was so hot.
March did eventually convince himself to get up, cream colored pants and a loose shirt thrown on. He would've really preferred to not wear anything at all, it felt like he was soaking through his clothes immediately.
March got out of his room just in time for the front door to open and he almost choked on his spit because Healy was wearing a tank top. No shirt over it, no blue leather jacket. Just a tank top and his arms, god, his arms. March knew he was staring. Healy turned in his direction and March did his best to tear his eyes away from the mans biceps.
"Healy!" A grin spread on his lips in an effort to seem 'cool'.
"March." Healy noticed the other man just standing in the doorway to his bedroom. "Did you just get up?"
March's grin faded and a scowl took its place. He waltzed past Healy and into the kitchen, a muttered "maybe" all that left his mouth. He needed a drink.
Don't ask March why Healy had a key to his house.
March was draped over his couch like a sack of rice. He had probably stared at Healy in that tank top at least 100 times and he was sure the other man had noticed for at least half of them. March didn't care anymore. The heat was unbearable.
"I'm getting a popsicle. Want one?" Healy grunted a no and March heaved himself up to grab what he wanted from the freezer. Surely this would save him from the heat both outside and simmering in his gut.
When he slumped back down on the couch, Healy started talking about their case, wanting to discuss their next steps. March was only half listening, the popsicle already shoved into his mouth. The cold was heavenly, his tongue swirled around it and he gave it a good suck before pulling it out of his mouth to respond to Healy.
"Well, surely if we just go follow the guy around we'll find what we need. Can't be that hard." And with that the popsicle went back in his mouth. March's head was resting against the back of the couch, facing the ceiling. Healy had lifted his eyes from some notes, argument dying in his throat at the sight.
His eyes dragged up the expanse of March's exposed throat. His slick lips wrapped around the popsicle and cheek bulging out a little where the younger man had pressed it. Jesus Christ. Healy tried collecting himself when March grabbed the stick to move the popsicle back to the center of his mouth and his cheeks hollowed when he sucked on it. When he pulled it out, his tongue dipped out of his mouth to give it a lick.
All completely normal when you eat a popsicle, not at all normal when you're Jackson Healy watching Holland March.
"You're disgusting."
March's head snapped up to stare at Healy, he looked offended, hell- he was offended.
"Excuse me?"
Healy tried to ignore how March's lips glistened. He tried to ignore the blood rushing down somewhere past his waistband.
"You tryna give that thing a blowjob?"
March all but choked on nothing, sputtering and sitting up a little straighter. The next time he spoke his voice was pitched higher than before.
"Excuse me?!" He repeated himself.
Healy tried to be normal about this. Keyword, tried.
"You're dripping." He didn't elaborate on his previous comment, he didn't have anything to elaborate with. Now it was March's turn to feel a flush rise up to his cheeks. Dripping?! He thought wildly. That sentence had no reason to make his gut churn as much as it did. His expression must've looked stupid. Eyebrows knit together, jaw slack and pupils blown wide.
"Your popsicle, March." Healy's eyes glanced down at said popsicle for a second to point it out further. March tore his eyes away from Healy's to look down at the sticky liquid coating his fingers. Oh, well, two could play that game. What game exactly, March didn't know. But he could play it too. Probably.
The popsicle was shoved back into his mouth to rid it of the dripping liquid and then replaced with his fingers. His eyes raised to look at Healy through his lashes and the man made a noise in the back of his throat. March grinned when his fingers popped out of his mouth. Healy was white-knuckling the arm rest. Just when Healy thought March's little display was over, the blonde licked the popsicle from the bottom to the top while holding eye contact.
"What the fuck are you doing, March." Healy all but growled out, he knew he was rock hard and his pants weren't doing much to hide it. March only had to glance down and he would see what his little show did to Healy. March gave Healy his best innocent look, fluttering his eyelashes for emphasis.
"What do you mean, I'm eating my popsicle."
"While staring at me?"
"I'm not staring at you."
"March, you've literally been staring at me since I came over."
Healy did his best to keep his voice even, not wanting to sound absolutely wrecked just from watching March suck off a popsicle. March's confidence faltered and he glowered at Healy. A little annoyed at being called out, he took the tip off his popsicle with a bite. He was about to throw his attempt at riling Healy up out the window and go back to talking about work when his eyes slid down and caught sight of the bulge in Healy's pants.
"Oh my god!" March squeaked, suddenly sitting up straight. "Oh my god, Healy— you're hard!"
Healy wanted to disappear. Or punch March in the face. Or both.
He was about to tell the younger man to fuck off when he noticed how he was squirming, the popsicle had long since been forgotten and started dripping down March's hand again. His other hand however was hovering over his lap, trying miserably to hide the tent in his own pants. Healy clicked his tongue. March flinched. Something hot and heavy settled in his gut.
"March…" Healy drawled, his voice dropping. "So are you."
March's cheeks started burning, this was not at all how he wanted this to go. He just wanted to rile Healy up a bit, annoy him so he would level him with that look— head tilted down, one eyebrow raised and mouth set in a frown, the stern "March." left unspoken —that always got March a little hot.
"No. No, I'm not." It was a lame retort, especially with how his voice wavered and how warm his face felt.
And March did get the look after all, a whimper clawing its way out of his throat. March slapped a hand over his mouth, embarrassment burning hot up his neck. He did not just make that noise.
Healy leaned closer, big hand wrapping around March's wrist to pull the hand covered in melted popsicle closer. And then Healy licked over his knuckles, up his middle and pointer finger before wrapping his lips around them and sucking them into his mouth— all while holding eye contact. The popsicle stick fell onto March's pants. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open behind his other hand. March felt like he died and went to heaven.
Healy's tongue swirled around the fingers in his mouth, licking off the sweet liquid before pulling off with a wet pop. If you were to ask him why he did what he did, he couldn't tell you. His grip on March's hand was gentle, the other man could pull his hand away if he wanted to but Healy had the feeling he wouldn't, if his dilated pupils and flushed cheeks were anything to go by.
"Healy..-" March sounded breathless, his voice cracking. He swallowed thickly. "I thought you didn't want a popsicle…"
Healy's eyebrows furrowed.
"Y'know, because my fingers taste like the popsicle? And you said you didn't want one earlier? So it's like you technically, kind of, almost— mmphf-"
Healy's lips were on his own. Healy was kissing him. Now March was sure he really died and went to heaven. The kiss didn't last very long and Healy pulled back moments later, March was still frozen in shock.
"March?" Healy squinted at the blonde, who had sagged against the arm of the couch so Healy was weirdly hovering over him, having scooted closer to kiss him proper. "Hey, March. If I had known all I needed to do was kiss you to shut you up, I would've done that ages ago."
March blinked at Healy owlishly. And then it clicked.
"Ages ago? Wait," his lips quirked up, a sly smile spreading across his face, "Healy… are you telling me you've wanted to kiss me before?"
Healy glared at March but it didn't have the effect he wanted it to have with his own cheeks flushed similarly to March's. He looked cute, March thought idly as he raised a hand to tangle his fingers in Healy's hair. Before Healy could argue and make up some lame excuse, March pulled him down to slot his lips against the other mans again. March was almost giddy with want, pulling his second hand from Healy's grip to bury both of them in his hair and tugging. The noise Healy made would be vehemently denied later. With Healy's lips parting, March pushed his tongue into his mouth, eagerly licking over his teeth and moaning into the kiss when Healy's tongue pushed against his own.
Healy had braced himself against the armrest, effectively caging March in. They eventually parted for air, panting into each others mouth and taking a good look at one another. March felt his chest tighten. Healy looked beautiful— kiss swollen lips, eyes hooded and hair sticking out in every direction from March messing with it.
It suddenly dawned on him that he liked Healy— like liked him, the 'wanting to wake up to Healy's arms wrapped around him, spending the evening cooking and eating dinner together, going to the beach with Holly like a family and sharing little goodbye and hello kisses' kind of like. Shit. March would do anything for another drink to magically appear in his hand right now. He was too sober to deal with this kind of realization.
The train of thought stopped dead in its tracks when Healy lowered himself to press a kiss to March's lips, trailing them along his cheek and his jaw before landing on his neck. March's breath hitched in his throat, craning his neck to the side to give Healy more room as his eyes slipped shut. Using one of his hands still in Healy's hair, he urged the man to keep kissing and biting at his neck, little high pitched noises falling from his lips. His 'liking Healy' crisis could wait. He didn't want to interrupt whatever they were getting up to, or worse, make Healy stop.
"Healy, Healy- please.."
Healy groaned against his neck and the noise went straight to his dick. Fuck, he needed to get out of these unnecessarily tight pants. March refused to let go of Healy's hair completely, fumbling with his pants one-handed and cursing under his breath. He eventually got the button to pop and hastily pulled down the zipper, all while Healy marked up his throat like he needed to make sure no one else would make a move on March.
"Okay, okay. Back off, big guy, it's like you're trying to eat my throat or something…" what March didn't mention was how much he loved it. He just needed to get his pants off, and preferably Healy's as well. His mouth salivated at the thought of the older mans strong thighs. Healy listened, because of course he did, like a well trained dog.
"A second ago you were begging and now you want me to back off." Healy said, matter-of-factly.
"Well- I-" March cleared his throat, "I just need to get these pants off." And with that March dug his fingers into the waistband of them, lifting his hips up to pull them off, struggling a little to get them off his ankles until Healy batted his hands away and almost bent him in half to pull them off for him. The startled moan the action ripped from him was humiliating. All Healy did was raise an eyebrow at him.
"Don't give me that look…"
"Whatever, March." And then Healy lowered March's legs, moving in between them and smoothing his hands up his thighs, appreciating the meat on them, digging his fingers in. March went to wrap his legs around Healy's waist before remembering he wanted the other man to take his pants off as well.
"Healy, hold on. Take your pants off."
The edge in March's voice sounded needy, almost whiny and Healy would've laughed if he didn't find his demand to be a great idea. Once Healy's pants were off, he had a lap full of March and fingers digging into his hair again. March's mouth slotted itself against Healy's hungrily, his teeth grazing against Healy's lower lip. March rocked his hips forward and it had both men moaning into each others mouths. It was like a dam broke and March kept rolling his hips in a steady rhythm, grinding their clothed erections together while Healy's fingers dug bruises into March's thighs.
When March pulled on Healy's hair, successfully tugging the mans head back to bare his throat and latching his lips onto the pale skin there, Healy felt lightheaded. He wasn't doing much except sit here and take whatever March gave him— but fuck, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. March bit down somewhere at the front of Healy's neck with a particularly hard thrust, making Healy buck his hips up with a low moan. March was almost delirious with the fact that he was reducing Healy to nothing but noises and twitches of the hip.
"Mmh.. look at you, Healy. Big, tough guy turning docile in my hands…" March spoke muffled against Healy's skin, he had left a couple marks and was pretty satisfied with himself. Healy managed to hide the noise climbing up his throat, grabbing a fistful of March's hair and yanking his head back. March's eyes snapped open, a startled moan torn from him. His back arched, desperate to keep his crotch pressed to Healy's.
"Docile?"
Healy nearly growled and March shuddered. Maybe he pushed his luck a little too far. A high whine was all March could manage in response and his hips twitched forward, searching for the press of Healy's crotch against his— the man below had separated him successfully with more tugs on his hair and an insistent hand on his hip. March opened his mouth to speak just as Healy cruelly dragged a finger over his clothed dick and his complaint warped into a small 'please'.
"Use your words, March."
March's hands were now fisted in Healy's shirt, holding on like he'd fall off the couch if he let go. His hips gave another useless twitch, Healy's finger still lightly dragging over his cock. It was driving March insane, it wasn't enough and yet it shot sparks of pleasure up his spine. Healy eventually let go of March's hair, sliding his hand to the front of his throat and holding it there. The blonde dropped his head a little, vision swimming and a whimper falling from his lips as he failed to properly focus on Healy. His eyes were glazed over and a pleased smile tugged at Healy's lips.
"Healy, please..- I- please," March couldn't form a coherent thought. Healy's hand on his throat was making him dizzy and he wished he would squeeze, cut off his air. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, leaning forward a little to press his neck further against Healy's hand. Healy raised an eyebrow in response before closing his hand tighter around March's throat, cutting off most of his airflow. March wheezed out a 'thank you'.
Healy took some pity on March and muttered a quiet 'alright, come here' with a hand on his lower back, pushing until March's crotch was pressed against his again, a strained moan coming from the younger man. Healy released his grip on March's throat for a second to let him suck in a breath before his fingers tightened again and March started desperately rolling his hips, grinding their cocks together. It only took a few more hard thrusts and March was cumming in his pants with an embarrassingly high whine, his mouth falling open as much as it could with Healy's hand still at his throat.
Healy was watching March, his cock throbbing with every little noise the man made. March's hips kept rolling, chasing the last sparks of pleasure and eventually going boneless, slumping against Healy's hold. Healy released his grip on the blondes throat, smoothing his fingers up and down a few times. March looked so beautifully fucked out from just a bit of dry humping and Healy felt his breath catch. In a haze he grabbed onto March's waist, twisting him around so he was ass up on the couch.
March let out a half hearted yelp, hands fumbling to grab at the couch. He was about to ask Healy what he was doing when he felt the older mans hard dick press against his ass, a strained 'holy shit' fell from his lips. Healy had a tight grip on March's hips, holding him in place as he began grinding against him, his mind occupied by thoughts of actually sinking into the pliant body below. March wanted to see, needed to see how Healy looked behind him. He twisted himself around a bit, arching his back and craning his neck to catch a glimpse.
Healy's cheeks were flushed, eyes trained down on March's ass as he rolled his hips forward, his hair was mostly covering his forehead and sticking up at odd angles and he looked gorgeous. March cursed under his breath when his neck started hurting, dropping his head back down on the couch with a whimper. He pushed his hips back a little and his dick gave an interested twitch when Healy moaned— a shame he wasn't 20 anymore. It didn't take Healy long to get close, he folded himself over March's body and nosed at the hair at his nape.
"Fuck, March.. you like this, yeah? God," Healy groaned against his sweaty neck and March reached back with a hand to grab onto Healy's hair again, "just.. just imagining you taking it. So good, made for me…" March openly moaned at those words, if he could cum again this quickly he certainly would've. Healy slid one hand off March's hip, dragging it over his stomach and splaying it on his chest. Healy was grinding against his ass as if he was actually fucking him. March wished he was.
"Healy.. Christ, come- come on… need it so bad, please-" March felt heady with want, tugging on Healy's hair. It felt like he was begging Healy to fill him up. Maybe he was. Healy's hips stuttered as he pressed his lips against the back of March's neck, a low groan bubbling up from his chest and then he stilled behind him, spilling in his underwear. A few shaky grinds later Healy slumped against March, breathing heavily against his skin which sent a shiver down March's spine.
March buried his face in the crook of his arm, "Oh my god." His voice was high and it dawned on him that they probably had to talk about whatever this was. He'd rather not. Healy let out a long breath, the air tickling March's ear and he realized he still had his hand buried in the older mans hair. When March let go, Healy slowly lifted himself off of him and slumped back onto the couch with a grunt. March stayed in his position for a while longer, feeling his face heat up all over again.
"Not that I don't appreciate the view, March, but that can't be comfortable for much longer."
March let out an embarrassed noise, slowly lifting himself up and turning around so he could flop down on the couch facing Healy. March didn't know what he expected but Healy smiling almost softly at him wasn't it. March blinked stupidly, communication wasn't his thing even if his mouth never stopped moving. So he did the next best thing, deflect.
"So, um. I think I… uh, need a shower." March pointed towards his bedroom with a lopsided grin on his face and moved to push himself off the couch. Before March could run off, Healy leaned forward to grab at his wrist.
"Absolutely not, March. I mean," Healy glanced down at March's crotch and wrinkled his nose, "yeah, a shower is a good idea but we need to talk first."
March visibly deflated and sunk back down onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. Healy didn't really know how to talk about this either, if he was honest with himself. He kept his gaze on March, trying to come up with a way to start the conversation while the blonde just sat there, hiding himself. An agonizingly long minute passed before Healy opened his mouth, snapping it shut again when he heard March mumble something.
"March, I can't hear you from behind your hands."
"I like you!"
Healy was the one blinking stupidly now. March hadn't pulled his hands away from his face but he spoke louder so Healy could hear. When Healy didn't respond, March carefully splayed his fingers to squint at him through the gaps. He swallowed thickly as panic set in— and what else did Holland March do when he was panicking besides talk. His hands dropped and he stared off somewhere behind Healy.
"I- okay, don't hate me. I know you probably won't, given that you just had your dick shoved against my ass-"
"March?"
"-but maybe you just did that because you wanted to blow off some steam and you just thought I was good enough for that. Y'know, I wouldn't blame you! I mean, look at me, right?"
"March."
"A good for nothing, alcoholic that fucks everything up and can't even raise his daughter right. Why would you like me, let alone—"
"Holland."
March's mouth snapped shut at the use of his first name. His eyes flicked to meet Healy's and his heart was pounding. This is where he tells me 'it's not you, it's me' and leaves. Except Healy didn't. He leaned back into March's space and raised a hand to his cheek, hovering before making contact and brushing his thumb just underneath March's eye. Oh. He had started tearing up sometime during his ramble.
"Listen, no- listen to me. I don't hate you. I don't think I could even if I tried," a gently smile spread across Healy's face and March was overcome with the need to kiss him again. "I wouldn't have done this, whatever this was, if I didn't like you. I don't just… hook up with people. Especially not with people I care about." March felt his stomach twist. And then Healy was kissing him— really kissing him, a soft press of lips with no sense of urgency or hunger and March practically melted. The earlier panic was quickly forgotten when March wrapped his arms around Healy's shoulders to kiss him back properly.
Healy pulled back way too quickly, if you asked March. The beautiful smile March was greeted with made his heart skip a beat and he grinned back. Maybe talking, communicating, wasn't so bad if it meant Healy would say things like that to him.
"Sooo… this mean I don't have to shower alone?" March ended the sentence with a wink.
Healy huffed out a laugh, shaking his head before getting off the couch with a small grunt. He pulled March up by his biceps and then slipped his hands down to his ass, squeezing and eliciting a squeak from March who batted at his arms. Healy grinned and March was love-struck for the millionth time tonight.
"I guess I could join you."
March hissed out a triumphant 'yes' and pressed a wet kiss to Healy's lips before dragging him off to his bathroom.