(no subject)
“Roy you smell of wee. Did you know that you smelt of wee?”
Roy sat unresponsively shaking in his chair while Moss asked him various questions. Jen looked at them from her office and shook her head again. They needed her. It wasn't rewarding and it wasn't glamourous, but they were her boys. Who else would remind Moss not to talk in Klingon when he got nervous?
“I'm going out for fifteen minutes, will you be ok?” she asked them.
Roy shook convulsively and shook his head. Moss looked at her with wide scared eyes.
“I can stay,” she said gently.
“Can you get me a bag of monster munch?” Moss asked, blinking.
Jen sighed and left the room, with a worried backwards glance. The door closed with a click. Roy jumped at the sound. Moss turned to look at him.
“You should have a shower, you know.”
Roy let out a whine. Moss got up and dragged Roy off his chair and lead him back to his own chair. He sat down and pulled Roy onto his lap. He kissed his neck and rubbed his arms.
“This is my happy place.”
Because there just wasn't enough filth in the last one...
"Clear off, you poofs!" an angry copper shouted from his car as Moss pressed himself as close as he possibly could to Roy.
"We could have just hidden behind those bins," said Roy, when they broke apart, looking more than slightly shell shocked.
"Oh yeah."
More squad cars drove past and Moss pinned Roy to the garage door again and kissed him like his life depended on it. For all he knew, it did. He'd never last in prison.
Somewhere in the middle of the kiss a gear shifted and they started to fit together more naturally and folded in together. Roy found himself moaning against Moss' lips and sucking on his tongue. Moss' leg, awkwardly hooked over his hip, moved just so and their crotches were flush against each other. Moss started to rub himself, shamelessly, against Roy and before long they were both hard.
It was terrifying, neither of them were sure how much of what they were doing was performance and how much was just pure unadulterated lust. What would be crossing the line.
Roy raised a shaking hand to Moss' fly and rubbed the heel of his hand against the bulge there. He opened the zip slowly and slipped his hand into Moss' pants, squeezing and fondling the hard cock inside them. Moss whined into his mouth and hastily started to undo Roy's trousers and within seconds, they were jerking each other off in public against a garage door.
"Roy, I'm-" Moss squeezed his eyes shut and came onto the tarmac, panting against Roy's shoulder.
He took a second to compose himself and zip everything back in before returning his attentions to Roy, in earnest. Before too long, Roy's eyes tuned glassy and he came with a whispered obscenity.
They looked at each other for several minutes without talking. Eventually Moss leaned over again and kissed Roy gently on the lips and put his hand on the Irishman's cheek. Roy reached up and covered Moss' hand with his own and smiled back at him.
"I'm terrified," he admitted.
Of what? The "real" men they'd befriended that had turned out to be bank robbers? The police? Moss? All of the above?
Moss kissed him again and he closed his eyes and sighed gently into the other man's mouth in surrender.