Work Text:
“Gonna run to the corner store and grab coffee. You want some, Kitsuragi?”
Kim waves a hand, the other one flipping between pages in his notebook to compare his notes to his official documentation. “No, thanks. Are you staying much later? You should get some sleep.”
A scoff. “Okay. Pot calling the kettle.” Satellite-Officer Vicquemare quickly downs the rest of his cold coffee, puts the mug down on the only flat surface on his desk- another pile of papers. “Well, I need a coffee. A real one. Be right back.” He walks off into the empty precinct, his footfalls and the shift of his ill-fitted trousers the only sound accompanying the flit of papers at this time of night.
Kim immediately regrets not accepting the offer for coffee as he raises his pen to correct his spelling of a witness’s name. He barely hears the creaking of a nearby office door slowly opening.
“Psst. Kim.”
Kim doesn’t look up. “Yes, Lieutenant-Yefreitor?”
Harry hangs over the back of his rolling chair, peering out at Kim from behind his office door.
(When he returned to the 41st, he found he was one of the few officers with a private office. He was more surprised to find the office clean and orderly, though Officer Vicquemare was quick to explain that was because Harry never really used his office, and avoided doing his paperwork whenever possible. A year’s worth of backlog greeted him when he returned, some poor junior officer assigned to the sole task of reminding Lieutenant DuBois to finish it every few hours.)
“Could- Could you come in here? It’s important.”
“Sure.”
When Kim enters Harry’s office, he expects to explain some MoralIntern terminology, to troubleshoot a broken desk lamp. So it comes as mildly surprising when Harry stands to close the door behind Kim and slink his arms around Kim’s waist. Harry buries his nose in the stubble at the back of Kim’s head and sighs contently. Kim hums softly and thumbs one of Harry’s hands at his waist as it begins to undo Kim’s trouser belt.
“We’re at work, Detective,” Kim warns, but makes no move to stop him.
“I can’t wait another minute. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Harry breathes low on Kim’s neck. “Please.”
Kim sighs, leaning back into Harry’s mouth. “I have to finish these reports. Tomorrow’s my only day off this week.”
Thick masculine fingers hold Kim’s chin and tilt his head back, giving Harry’s lips easier access to the delicate skin across Kim’s pulse. Kim moans softly at being handled. “You can finish when you get back.” The clink of the belt as Harry pulls open Kim’s trousers and palms him through his y-fronts.
Kim’s breath catches. He adores how large Harry’s hand feels around him. “I can’t. Stop,” he protests, weakly. His hands find their way to grip Harry’s large forearms and he squeezes the muscle there. “I have to stay- ah-” A bite, slightly too hard, on the shell of his ear, “-focused.”
“Don’t you always tell me it’s better to take extra time and do it right the first time?”
Kim chuckles, grins to himself at that. “So you have been paying attention.” How sweet. “Ahh—!” His legs buckle as Harry tongues the the inner shell of his ear. His heart is pounding. “No, no, stop…” A soft prayer. His protestations get more desperate, more heated as it becomes clear he’s not going to get his paperwork done tonight after all, as Harry pulls his lovely brown cock from the opening in his y-fronts and thumbs the wet slit. He pushes the cleft of his ass up against Harry’s clothed erection, relishing in its girth and uncontrolled heat. He thinks to himself, ‘Is that for me?’ “Stop, stop, I can’t. Yefreitor…” he moans.
Hearing his title sung like Kim’s a coquetteish little patrol officer attempting to placate his superior officer makes Harry laugh. “Fuck, you’re amazing, Kim,” he coos, because he knows he can’t get away with calling Kim ‘officer’.
--
First came a few weeks of Kim taking charge during sex, commanding Harry like a dog and thrilling in Harry’s eager responsiveness. A few fights in between— Harry overtly asked out multiple women right in front of Kim. Then Harry outed them to one of Kim’s younger coworkers at the 57th. The both of them wondered: Will this work?
Then, Kim farted for the first time in front of Harry, right in the Coupris Kineema as Kim was about to drive Harry home. He flushed and apologized right after. A few times, Kim said he was tired, and asked Harry to take the lead, prepare him and pound into him until he came silently. And once, when Kim was staying over at Harry’s, he knocked on the bathroom door, wanting to ask a question. When Harry said, “I’m shitting!” Kim waited for a few seconds before he opened the door a crack and asked his question anyway. Jean was right, Harry realized— Kim was bewitched.
Then in the middle of a case, Harry caved to an impulse to slam Kim up against a wall and kiss him roughly. He expected fully to be shoved aside and scolded, prepared yet unprepared to be put in a terrible mood and ride through his guilt for the next few hours.
He didn’t expect Kim to moan wantonly in his arms and grind their clothed erections together. “Detective,” he hissed. “We can’t.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s okay,” Harry nodded, licking his lips, mouth hanging open with arousal. “We can stop. It’s no problem.” But when he tried to pull away, Kim grabbed his hips and shoved them back together. “Oh.” Harry slowly put the pieces together. He experimentally dipped his hand under Kim’s bomber jacket and pinched one of his nipples, rolled it in his fingers. “Is this okay?” Kim said nothing then, just looked away shyly. And when Harry asked, “Do you— You want me to fuck you up against this wall?”
He couldn’t miss how Kim’s ears burned red with embarrassment before he crushed their lips together. Harry stroked them together with one hand, his lungs searing as Kim gasped against his lips in between hitched breaths, “We can’t, we can’t.” And Kim came quicker than Harry had ever seen him. That’s how Harry learned.
--
Kim isn’t shy to tell Harry what he doesn’t like. Harry can check in, but he can’t tell Kim what to do. He can be rough, but he can’t try to embarrass Kim. He can manipulate Kim, but he can’t make him feel guilty.
And here, in the dim light of Harry’s desk lamp, another unspoken rule becomes obvious: Kim can treat Harry as a superior, but Harry can’t treat Kim like a subordinate. “You’re so hot. You’re all I can think about. I’ll do anything. Please, let me fuck you.”
“Yefreitor, please. Stop.”
Harry lets go of Kim’s cock and crowds Kim into the paperthin wall adjoining Harry’s office to the rest of the C Wing, presses his weight into him until he can hear Kim’s breath get thin. Kim moans as he realizes Harry’s so heavy he literally can’t fill his lungs up any further.
“Be quiet, or someone will hear you,” Harry rumbles into Kim’s ear, which, Harry’s thrilled to learn, makes Kim moan even louder.
“Stop, I can’t,” Kim breathes.
“Please, please, please, Kim. Please, let me.” Harry can’t hold back his gasp when he pulls Kim’s trousers down to the floor and feels the cool glass of a plug between Kim’s ass. “Wait— you— Seriously?”
Kim laughs, nods with his nose against the plaster of the wall. “When I was on the way back from dinner.” He shrugs. “I was bored.” And he’d hoped.
“So this whole time—”
“Detective. It’s only been an hour.”
“In front of Jean! And you— Didn’t you drive, too? The 8/81 isn’t exactly a smooth ride.”
“Mmhm.” Kim coughs. “It was… It was nice.”
“Fucking hell, I love you. Oh.” Harry blushes, realizing it’s the first time he’s ever said he loves him and it’s over a buttplug. Kim chuckles lightly. “Forget I said that. Do-over. I’ll get a more romantic do-over later,” he recovers, pulling the plug slowly from Kim’s ass. He pulls a napkin from one of Kim’s jacket pockets (because he knows where Kim keeps them) and sets the plug aside on his desk, keeping Kim pressed firmly against the wall all the while.
There’s a sound. And they freeze. Soon, they hear Jean and another officer come into the C Wing. They hear the unmistakeable sound of Judit’s voice as she mutters, “Guess they went home,” and pulls her chair to sit in.
The weight of what they’re doing sinks in. “Okay, seriously, be quiet now,” Harry whispers. “Should we stop?”
Kim doesn’t answer right away. Presses his forehead against the wall. “…We should stop,” Kim sighs. But then he pushes his bare ass against Harry’s clothed erection, the wet spot of Harry’s precum. Harry gasps.
“We should stop,” Harry breathes, fumbling with his briefs. “We should stop, we should stop…”
Kim moans quietly as Harry presses the warm, fat head of his cock to Kim’s entrance. “We should stop. Fuck, this is a stupid idea.” He loves how thick Harry is. It always challenges him, and he adores the thrill of panic as Harry slides it inside, and he wonders if it will fit. “Please,” he sighs. He can’t help the sound he makes as he feels Harry’s tip breach his sensitive entrance. “Please, please, please,” he gasps, his face heating up as Harry pushes inside and pleasure consumes him.
As Harry fills him up, he reaches back and finds Harry’s hand, and holds it, squeezing.
Harry begins thrusting in and out, and Kim huffs desperately against the wall as each thrust pushes on his lungs and drags across his prostate and takes his breath away.
“Fuck, you really like this, huh?” Harry’s in awe. Kim’s ears burn with embarrassment. Harry’s always amazed that Kim would deign to fuck him let alone- this. “You really like this. I thought you really wanted to finish your work. You’ve wanted to fuck me all day, too, haven’t you?” Kim shakes his head. “I can tell. Look at how your body’s reacting. You want this so bad.”
Kim whimpers. That did it. Harry begins pounding into him, faster. “No, no,” Kim gasps urgently, glasses askew, trying not to drool on plaster. An incantation, each breathy refusal stains his cheeks red and gives the horny little Dolorian boy in him more power. They can hear you, they can hear you through the wall. Everyone knows how badly you want this. “No, please. No…” Each move of Harry’s hips rubs his bare cock against the cool wall and he’s going insane. “Please…!” Kim’s breath begins to catch, and Harry knows he’s about to come.
“Go on, it’s okay. You’re doing so good. I’m here,” Harry murmurs right before he bites the back of Kim’s neck, hard. Then harder, then even harder until he feels Kim’s nails digging into his hand. That’s how he knows Kim can actually feel it.
“Ha-arry…! Fuck!” Kim hisses quietly as he barrels over the edge with Harry’s teeth in him and he shoots all over the wall. His cum dribbles down the plaster. It’s humiliating and he basks in it. Moments later, Harry pulls out and finishes into the condom, burrowing his face affectionately into Kim’s back as he moans loudly through his orgasm.
“Shut the fuck up, shitkid!” he hears through the wall. Kim closes his eyes and hopes they weren’t too obvious.
Harry tugs off the condom and tosses it into his wastebasket, then cleans himself off with a napkin. Kim gets dressed and takes a few extra napkins from his pocket as he cleans off the wall. He frowns thoughtfully as he places the soiled napkins on top of the condom, feebly obscuring it from plain view. Like a funeral.
“Sorry for dropping the L bomb on you like that,” Harry laughs, cleaning off Kim’s plug. “I’ll take you out somewhere nice and give you a proper romantic dinner soon. Then we can fuck like dogs.” He does a comical hip thrusting gesture. Kim looks away. “You said you wanted to visit Couron, right? We can walk the pier. I heard they have some galleries. I know you’re not that into galleries, but they have one right now: Artificial limbs made of motor carriage pieces or something. You might get a kick out of that.” He finishes cleaning the plug off. A cloudy blue swirl of glass. Elegant and devious.
He holds out the plug to Kim. Kim looks at it thoughtfully.
As Kim takes the plug from Harry, he takes in a deep, shaky breath. Harry is certain for a fraction of a second that Kim is going to break up with him. “Harry…” He tucks the plug away in a handkerchief and sets it in his pocket. Then he takes Harry’s hand in his. He looks up at Harry with dark eyes and suddenly Harry can’t breathe. “You’re the only person I’ve ever… been like this with.”
“Like what? A bottom?”
Kim snorts. And winces. He covers his mouth with his fist as he shakes with laughter. Tears start to gather at the corners of his eyes from the effort of not laughing. He shakes his head, embarrassed, refusing to smile.
“It sounds ridiculous when you say it like that. No, not exactly.”
He gently rubs circles across the back of Harry’s hand.
“I’ve never been with anyone and had it been… Like this. I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Open,” he finally settles on.
“Oh. Cool. Like vulnerable. Yeah.” Harry smiles, his stomach doing backflips. “Vulnerability’s cool.”
“Very cool.” Kim lets go of Harry’s hand. “There. Now you’re not the only one who ‘dropped a bomb’ tonight.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Harry bites his lip, the gap in his front teeth showing, and he winks. “You still want to go to Couron?”
“Mmhm.” Kim grabs Harry by the chin and kisses him on the cheek. Lightning bolts ripple through Harry’s skin. “Let’s go tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
Jean and Judit are already gone by the time they leave. Harry has work tomorrow. But it doesn’t matter. It’s Kim’s only day off this week, and he’s going on a date.