Fic: Not a Desk Job
Title: Not a Desk Job
Author: interpretthis
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Mahone/Wheeler
Rating: Mature
Genre: Slash
Summary: Alex needs help of the sort drugs can't give him. Luckily for him, Wheeler is a perceptive man.
Notes: For
ginger_maya . Cross-posted to
pbslash and
fichtner_fans .
Alex looked up to the soft tap on his door, recognizing Wheeler through his own name written on the glass pane. He waved him in, setting the phone back into its cradle and busying himself with some loose, utterly meaningless paperwork.
“Yeah?” Alex’s voice was clipped. He didn’t look up. Scribbled something into the margin. He felt more than saw Wheeler move around to the far side of his desk, away from the window. He was silent, gaze on Alex’s hand darting around the papers. Alex squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, frustration flitting across his face before he sighed, looking up to meet Wheeler’s eyes. “Yes?”
Wheeler’s blue eyes looked unusual. Conflicted. Comforting. They drew Alex in, sparked something inside him. Wheeler’s hand reached out to trace the curve of Alex’s thumb, trail over the fleshy, sensitive underside of his wrist. Alex’s breath caught in his throat as he stood slowly to face Wheeler, completely astounded and enthralled, as if seeing the other man for the first time. Wheeler, wide-eyed but in control leaned forward to brush their lips together lightly, the softest touch possible, testing. Alex drew a sharp breath and sighed. Wheeler backed him against the wall slowly, lips pulling at his ear lightly. Breath curled together and mingled. Gentle lips left faint kisses all over. Sighs and whispers began and ended. Alex’s forehead fell to Wheeler’s shoulder and Wheeler held him there. Vulnerable. Completely and utterly vulnerable. They stood quietly, Alex gripping Wheeler’s arms until he’d gained his comfort. The human touch had taken its effect and they parted ways, arms falling to respective sides, sheepish glances exchanged, hasty departures taken. Alex felt strange. Better than he had in years. Strange.
---
The next day Wheeler was back. Alex’s mind had been working furiously all day, going over the past evening. The partial relief he often took in office work was not at all present today. Focus eluded him. His palms sweated, hands shook. These nerves had nothing to do with the company, his family, his job. He felt no relief to be in the office. This was not a desk job.
Wheeler knocked, waited for Alex to beckon before entering, moved to the desk and stopped. Alex chuckled, trying to pave over yesterday’s vulnerability with a quick joke or perhaps just by feigning complete ignorance. He hadn’t yet decided. He stopped short when he caught the look in Wheeler’s eyes. The man was not ready to take any of that. Alex decided perhaps he didn’t want him to. He sat, resolved. Let his pen fall from his hands and waited. Waited.
Wheeler crouched down, ever so slowly, carefully moving closer and closer to Alex, his lips moving closer and closer to the older man’s lips. Alex stiffened, too entranced to do anything but sit and watch as Wheeler touched his lips to Alex’s own, softly, a few small moments of flesh on flesh. He pulled away, face red and panting. Alex followed him up, standing in a rush of memos and meaningless papers to grab the lapels of Wheeler’s coat and bring his lips down upon his own again, backing him into the wall, kissing quickly, thoroughly. Alex broke away to allow Wheeler a small groan and his own breathy “What the?” before letting Wheeler spin them around and crush him against the wall. Alex clutched at Wheeler’s springy hair, trailed his hands across his suit-clad back, gripped his shoulders as Wheeler’s lips mouthed at the sensitive spot just between his neck and jawbone, grazing teeth along shuddering flesh.
This time around, it was over almost before it started. Whatever it was. Wheeler stepped back. Ran a hand through his tousled curls. Breathed heavily as he stared at Alex. Alex stared back, face bemused, his tie off-kilter, a red mark beginning to show in the soft dip of flesh just below the jaw. Wheeler gave a soft nod and turned, walking out of the room. Alex’s breathing slowed. He stared at the door. Walked back to his desk and lowered himself into his chair, leaning forward as he knelt to collect and restore the meaningless papers to his desk with an astonished little grin.
---
From then on, work went on as typically as ever before. The hunt for Scofield and Burrows was still raging. The brothers were still winning. Alex knew it. Everyone knew it. Nothing was spoken of the kiss. Alex decided it was better that way. His life was complicated enough as it was.
After finding and subsequently losing Scofield for a fifth time, Alex fell into his worst low ever. The anxiety overwhelmed him, set itself into his breastbone, determined to become a permanent resident. He was downing Midazolam like candy. Little, blue, addictive, useless pieces of candy. Candy he wouldn’t give to his child in a million years. Candy he popped frequently, hoping to god Cameron would still be alive in the morning. Pam. He’d pop enough to end it, if only he knew for sure his family would be better off without him.
Bagwell killed again, a nine-year-old girl this time, and Alex nearly lost it. He was responsible. Bagwell was the one man out of eight Alex would not think twice about bringing down in cold blood. But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Another body made the charts. Another body in the ground. Only three years older than his own son. His own son.
---
Jeffery Wheeler was far from Alex’s mind when the younger man appeared in his office two days after the Bagwell murder. Alex looked up warily, letting the pen he’d been gripping slip from his fingers to land on the case file. Wheeler looked uncomfortable. Concerned.
“You’re not well.” Three simple words. Three words Alex had not been expecting to hear. Overlooking their glaring truth, he did not find them unwelcome.
He raised his eyebrows, trying to look unconcerned, unimpressed. “Anything else?”
“You’re killing yourself.” Three more words. Less simple this time. Not nearly as welcome. Alex narrowed his eyes.
“Anything else related to the case?” He was pleased to hear the hard edge in his voice, whether he felt his attitude matched it or not.
“Fernando Sucre was apprehended this morning after a tussle with another man outside his aunt’s house in Ixtapa. The man was breaking and entering, and upon recognizing Sucre, he shot him in the leg and kept him at bay until the authorities arrived. The man has been pardoned for the break in. Sucre is being held in Mexico City before he can be transferred back to the states.”
Wheeler watched Alex’s eyes as they betrayed what his face would not. Fear. Fear for his family. Fear of the consequences if Sucre did not make his way over the borderline breathing less and a lot more dead. Wheeler hesitated for a moment, fingering something in his right hand before placing it on Alex’s desktop and departing.
Alex tore the envelope’s seal quickly, a slight shake to his fingers. On the envelope’s top half was scrawled an address. Alex dumped the contents onto his desk, staring down at the dull key lying over the top of Bagwell’s birthday and hometown. Alex stared. Stared. Sighed. Knew he wouldn’t be going home that night.
---
Wheeler’s apartment was a neutral, not too shabby, not too classy sort of place edging Lake Michigan. The tweeny-looking brunette twirling in her chair at the security desk nodded him in, and he rode the elevator up to the seventh floor. He found the room just across from the lift and fitted the key into the lock hesitantly, twisting it to the wrong side on purpose to dawdle before slowly easing it in the opposite direction. He laughed at himself inwardly, first at the piddling whole two seconds time he’d bought himself, before laughing somewhat half-heartedly at the fact that he was afraid in the first place. Of what? He wanted to know. He knew. He cringed inwardly and tried to force the palpitating of his racing heart down with a deep breath. Failed. Pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Wheeler was waiting in a living room chair, looking surprisingly composed, only the slightest bit peaked. Alex lowered himself onto the couch at Wheeler’s motion, perching himself on the sofa’s edge. He looked out onto the balcony, studying the peachy, burnt-orange reflection of the setting sun on the water outside with unseeing eyes.
“So…” Alex’s voice was forcedly nonchalant.
“Would you like anything to eat?” Wheeler studied him openly, watching the curious way the sun outside fanned over the contours of the older man’s face, leaving just the right areas in a comfortable shadow.
Alex twisted his fingers into the knee of his pants unconsciously. He glanced at Wheeler and sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back into the cushion. “No. I’m not…I don’t think I can eat.” He paused before adding “thank you,” as an afterthought.
“I understand.”
He did. Alex could feel he did. He let some nerves out with the next breath. Sat up again to look at Wheeler. Really look at him. He saw nothing that brought the nerves back. Sincerity. Caring. Concern. Desire, even. Alex flexed his jaw. Started to speak. Stopped. Rethought. Started to speak.
“Are you gay?” Alex didn’t even mean to ask it. He didn’t know why he did. Frankly, he didn’t much care what the answer would be. It was just something to say.
Wheeler’s eyes twinkled. He studied Alex’s face.
“Would I kiss you if I weren’t? Invite you to my apartment?”
Alex flushed. “I know. I just…I thought…maybe you were just…”
“Deluded? Too set on sympathy to care how I comforted you? I like you Alex. I can see you need help. If you don’t need that help from me, that’s fine. I’m not here to make decisions for you. You’re here to make decisions for you. I want to help you, and if you want me to help you then…you’re in the right place. If not? Key works both ways.”
“I…” Alex looked into the sun. Eyes swept the coastline. The skyscrapers reflected the orangey light on their shiny panes. He looked back at Wheeler. Down to the off-white carpet underfoot. “You’re the only one who’s…I don’t know…” He gave a quick, nervous laugh. “Asked? Noticed? Cared?” He paused again. “To be honest, I’m not sure I’d go for anyone else after what’s happened between…you and me. Not if I walked out now and goddamn Claudia Schiffer came after me tomorrow. Or,” Alex allowed himself a grin. “That DiCaprio kid.”
Wheeler laughed. Alex flushed. Wished he’d do it again.
“And there’s something else.” Alex ran a hand through his hair. Wheeler looked on expectantly.
“Why did you tell me I was being supervised? It wasn’t required.” Alex looked up, waiting quietly for an answer.
Wheeler smiled softly. Looked down to the carpet.
“Just a warning. I wanted you to know so you could make the best of the information. Watch yourself.” He looked somewhat embarrassed.
Alex laughed quietly.
“At the time I figured you were just being a snooty little jerkoff.” He looked up, eyes twinkling. “Thank you.”
The air fell silent and thick. Wheeler rose to move from the chair to the couch. Sat beside Alex and gripped his hand, pulling it up to press his lips to each of his rough knuckles. Their lips came together quickly, working and nipping, teeth bumping, tongues running along lips, tongues. Wheeler pulled Alex to him as they stood, slowly finding their way to the bedroom, stopping along the way to kiss fiercely against a wall or fumble out of a jacket.
---
In time, Alex was eased back into the bed to rest against the pillows. Wheeler smiled as he removed his own shirt, glancing down to take in his boss’s unclad torso, the sun splashing in a triangle across his abdomen, the point ending on his shoulder. He lowered himself into the bed, brushing fingers over Alex’s cheek before trailing his lips down the older man’s neck, leaving open kisses along the length of his collarbone. Alex drew breath in heavy, even pants, eyes closed and fingers fisted in Wheeler’s hair. Wheeler trailed down further, tongue dipping into groves and hollows, swathing over Alex’s nipple, teeth running over the other, eliciting a breathy gasp from the older man. Wheeler grinned against Alex’s chest, sending wisps of warm breath skimming over his flesh. Alex pulled Wheeler up, tugging softly with his hands cupped around Wheeler’s head, reaching for another kiss. Wheeler delivered gladly, pushing back up Alex’s body to meet his lips in a series of light, desperate kisses. Wheeler reached down between them to unfasten Alex’s belt as Alex bucked his hips up instinctively, urging for his touch. After a few moments of fiddling the buckle slipped free. Wheeler’s warm, slightly rough hand came around Alex’s cock, pulling softly but tantalizingly, warm flesh against warm flesh.
“Wheeler…” Alex let out in a hiss, his grip on the younger man’s shoulders shaky.
Wheeler smiled against Alex’s ear, whispering “It’s Jeffery,” before laving the shell with his tongue, drawing another shudder from the man beneath him.
“Jeffery.” Alex gave a soft, barking laugh. “Sleeping together and not even on a first name basis.”
Wheeler gave a soft chuckle, continuing to run his fingers along Alex’s straining cock.
“Fuck. Wh-Jeffery. You’ve got to stop that if you want this to go anywhere.”
Wheeler gave a coy grin. “It’s your night Alex.”
Alex groaned and fumbled with Wheeler’s shoulders, pushing him off. He kissed his forehead and looked at Wheeler’s shoulder as he fiddled with the sheet.
“I want it to be…both of us. It’s been so long since I’ve felt…anything like this. Had reason to be the least bit cheesy. So,” he smirked, meeting Wheeler’s eyes, “if you wouldn’t mind…”
Wheeler’s laugh was liquid. He flipped Alex back onto the pillows, capturing his mouth quickly and hungrily. Alex kissed back fiercely, reveling in the utter carefree joy, desire. Wheeler ran a hand down Alex’s chest, rubbing over nipples and secretly sensitive areas. He pushed two, three fingers inside, receiving a low groan from Alex as he spread them carefully to prepare him.
Wheeler’s forehead fell to Alex’s shoulder in a pant as he pushed in gently. Alex leaned his head back into the pillow, digging his fingernails into Wheeler’s back, letting out a quiet moan. Wheeler worked his way into establishing a rhythm, thrusting in and out, each time brushing Alex’s prostate and drawing a delicious moan from the older man. Wheeler squeezed his eyes shut, tangling his finger’s in the Alex’s already mussed hair, running the pads of his toes along Alex’s inner ankle in a soft gesture that pulled a shiver from Alex. The act was marked by quiet groans, light touches, and wet, open-mouthed kisses. Alex came first, exhaling and whispering incoherently under his breath, eyes slipping shut and back arching. Wheeler came just seconds later, losing control at the look on Alex’s face and groaning as he emptied himself into the man below him. They stilled, panting, regaining their breath slowly.
Wheeler kissed Alex lightly before rolling off to the side, pulling Alex with him until he rested against his shoulder. He traced circles into Alex’s lower back in time with their evening breaths. They sank into the quiet of the room, slowly letting sleep take them as the dusk outside gave way to deep, blue night.
---
Alex woke in the middle of the night, surprised to find himself still entangled in Wheeler’s arms. He grinned, finding the scene both amusing and strangely wonderful. He pulled Wheeler closer, watching his calm face in the sparse moonlight filtering through the windowpane. Freckles stood out on pale skin. Alex brushed the back of his hand down the younger man’s cheek, up through his springy curls, back down his neck to rest against his chest.
Wheeler opened his eyes slowly. He smiled, kissing Alex on the forehead.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” Alex was only half-lying.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you did.” Wheeler brushed his thumb across Alex’s collarbone.
They lay there for a few minutes. Quiet. Delicate touches fluttering over backs and necks and arms, each slowly growing accustomed to the other.
“I’m glad you came here.” Wheeler whispered finally, meeting Alex’s eyes as best he could in the limited light.
Alex laughed softly. “You’re just in it for the sex,” he quipped.
Wheeler grinned. “Ha. Well it’s not often I invite crotchety old men into my bed.”
“Oh? Crotchety? That’s how it is? Well I’ll have you know that being crotchety is rather important when it comes to sex,” Alex deadpanned, the laughter sneaking into his voice.
“Is that right? Crotchety? I do believe you’ve got your words mixed up old man, but I take your point.” Wheeler chuckled, kissing Alex’s temple and gripping his fingers, pulling them to his mouth, pressing his lips against the older man’s palm.
“I’m glad I came too.” Alex’s voice was quiet.
Wheeler pulled him in for a kiss. Soft but hot, it sent a warm shiver up Alex’s spine. The younger man broke away slowly, pulling Alex to him once again. Alex settled in, nestling his head into the hollow of Wheeler’s shoulder. This time when sleep took them, it stuck till morning.
---
They woke to find sunlight streaming through the window, reflecting brilliantly off the lake below. Through coffee they watched the daily news. A young reporter was talking animatedly. Alex caught six words “Burrows, Scofield, innocent, Reynolds, arrested, conspiracy” before choking on his coffee. He coughed quickly. He and Wheeler stared at the television, letting the news flood over them. Alex gazed down into his coffee cup, eyes alight with amazement. He looked to Wheeler. They shared a shy, happy grin. Alex gripped Wheeler’s hand across the table. He supposed they wouldn’t be going in to work today. Perhaps a swim.
FIN
Author: interpretthis
Fandom: Prison Break
Pairing: Mahone/Wheeler
Rating: Mature
Genre: Slash
Summary: Alex needs help of the sort drugs can't give him. Luckily for him, Wheeler is a perceptive man.
Notes: For
ginger_maya . Cross-posted to
pbslash and
fichtner_fans .
Alex looked up to the soft tap on his door, recognizing Wheeler through his own name written on the glass pane. He waved him in, setting the phone back into its cradle and busying himself with some loose, utterly meaningless paperwork.
“Yeah?” Alex’s voice was clipped. He didn’t look up. Scribbled something into the margin. He felt more than saw Wheeler move around to the far side of his desk, away from the window. He was silent, gaze on Alex’s hand darting around the papers. Alex squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, frustration flitting across his face before he sighed, looking up to meet Wheeler’s eyes. “Yes?”
Wheeler’s blue eyes looked unusual. Conflicted. Comforting. They drew Alex in, sparked something inside him. Wheeler’s hand reached out to trace the curve of Alex’s thumb, trail over the fleshy, sensitive underside of his wrist. Alex’s breath caught in his throat as he stood slowly to face Wheeler, completely astounded and enthralled, as if seeing the other man for the first time. Wheeler, wide-eyed but in control leaned forward to brush their lips together lightly, the softest touch possible, testing. Alex drew a sharp breath and sighed. Wheeler backed him against the wall slowly, lips pulling at his ear lightly. Breath curled together and mingled. Gentle lips left faint kisses all over. Sighs and whispers began and ended. Alex’s forehead fell to Wheeler’s shoulder and Wheeler held him there. Vulnerable. Completely and utterly vulnerable. They stood quietly, Alex gripping Wheeler’s arms until he’d gained his comfort. The human touch had taken its effect and they parted ways, arms falling to respective sides, sheepish glances exchanged, hasty departures taken. Alex felt strange. Better than he had in years. Strange.
---
The next day Wheeler was back. Alex’s mind had been working furiously all day, going over the past evening. The partial relief he often took in office work was not at all present today. Focus eluded him. His palms sweated, hands shook. These nerves had nothing to do with the company, his family, his job. He felt no relief to be in the office. This was not a desk job.
Wheeler knocked, waited for Alex to beckon before entering, moved to the desk and stopped. Alex chuckled, trying to pave over yesterday’s vulnerability with a quick joke or perhaps just by feigning complete ignorance. He hadn’t yet decided. He stopped short when he caught the look in Wheeler’s eyes. The man was not ready to take any of that. Alex decided perhaps he didn’t want him to. He sat, resolved. Let his pen fall from his hands and waited. Waited.
Wheeler crouched down, ever so slowly, carefully moving closer and closer to Alex, his lips moving closer and closer to the older man’s lips. Alex stiffened, too entranced to do anything but sit and watch as Wheeler touched his lips to Alex’s own, softly, a few small moments of flesh on flesh. He pulled away, face red and panting. Alex followed him up, standing in a rush of memos and meaningless papers to grab the lapels of Wheeler’s coat and bring his lips down upon his own again, backing him into the wall, kissing quickly, thoroughly. Alex broke away to allow Wheeler a small groan and his own breathy “What the?” before letting Wheeler spin them around and crush him against the wall. Alex clutched at Wheeler’s springy hair, trailed his hands across his suit-clad back, gripped his shoulders as Wheeler’s lips mouthed at the sensitive spot just between his neck and jawbone, grazing teeth along shuddering flesh.
This time around, it was over almost before it started. Whatever it was. Wheeler stepped back. Ran a hand through his tousled curls. Breathed heavily as he stared at Alex. Alex stared back, face bemused, his tie off-kilter, a red mark beginning to show in the soft dip of flesh just below the jaw. Wheeler gave a soft nod and turned, walking out of the room. Alex’s breathing slowed. He stared at the door. Walked back to his desk and lowered himself into his chair, leaning forward as he knelt to collect and restore the meaningless papers to his desk with an astonished little grin.
---
From then on, work went on as typically as ever before. The hunt for Scofield and Burrows was still raging. The brothers were still winning. Alex knew it. Everyone knew it. Nothing was spoken of the kiss. Alex decided it was better that way. His life was complicated enough as it was.
After finding and subsequently losing Scofield for a fifth time, Alex fell into his worst low ever. The anxiety overwhelmed him, set itself into his breastbone, determined to become a permanent resident. He was downing Midazolam like candy. Little, blue, addictive, useless pieces of candy. Candy he wouldn’t give to his child in a million years. Candy he popped frequently, hoping to god Cameron would still be alive in the morning. Pam. He’d pop enough to end it, if only he knew for sure his family would be better off without him.
Bagwell killed again, a nine-year-old girl this time, and Alex nearly lost it. He was responsible. Bagwell was the one man out of eight Alex would not think twice about bringing down in cold blood. But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. Another body made the charts. Another body in the ground. Only three years older than his own son. His own son.
---
Jeffery Wheeler was far from Alex’s mind when the younger man appeared in his office two days after the Bagwell murder. Alex looked up warily, letting the pen he’d been gripping slip from his fingers to land on the case file. Wheeler looked uncomfortable. Concerned.
“You’re not well.” Three simple words. Three words Alex had not been expecting to hear. Overlooking their glaring truth, he did not find them unwelcome.
He raised his eyebrows, trying to look unconcerned, unimpressed. “Anything else?”
“You’re killing yourself.” Three more words. Less simple this time. Not nearly as welcome. Alex narrowed his eyes.
“Anything else related to the case?” He was pleased to hear the hard edge in his voice, whether he felt his attitude matched it or not.
“Fernando Sucre was apprehended this morning after a tussle with another man outside his aunt’s house in Ixtapa. The man was breaking and entering, and upon recognizing Sucre, he shot him in the leg and kept him at bay until the authorities arrived. The man has been pardoned for the break in. Sucre is being held in Mexico City before he can be transferred back to the states.”
Wheeler watched Alex’s eyes as they betrayed what his face would not. Fear. Fear for his family. Fear of the consequences if Sucre did not make his way over the borderline breathing less and a lot more dead. Wheeler hesitated for a moment, fingering something in his right hand before placing it on Alex’s desktop and departing.
Alex tore the envelope’s seal quickly, a slight shake to his fingers. On the envelope’s top half was scrawled an address. Alex dumped the contents onto his desk, staring down at the dull key lying over the top of Bagwell’s birthday and hometown. Alex stared. Stared. Sighed. Knew he wouldn’t be going home that night.
---
Wheeler’s apartment was a neutral, not too shabby, not too classy sort of place edging Lake Michigan. The tweeny-looking brunette twirling in her chair at the security desk nodded him in, and he rode the elevator up to the seventh floor. He found the room just across from the lift and fitted the key into the lock hesitantly, twisting it to the wrong side on purpose to dawdle before slowly easing it in the opposite direction. He laughed at himself inwardly, first at the piddling whole two seconds time he’d bought himself, before laughing somewhat half-heartedly at the fact that he was afraid in the first place. Of what? He wanted to know. He knew. He cringed inwardly and tried to force the palpitating of his racing heart down with a deep breath. Failed. Pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Wheeler was waiting in a living room chair, looking surprisingly composed, only the slightest bit peaked. Alex lowered himself onto the couch at Wheeler’s motion, perching himself on the sofa’s edge. He looked out onto the balcony, studying the peachy, burnt-orange reflection of the setting sun on the water outside with unseeing eyes.
“So…” Alex’s voice was forcedly nonchalant.
“Would you like anything to eat?” Wheeler studied him openly, watching the curious way the sun outside fanned over the contours of the older man’s face, leaving just the right areas in a comfortable shadow.
Alex twisted his fingers into the knee of his pants unconsciously. He glanced at Wheeler and sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back into the cushion. “No. I’m not…I don’t think I can eat.” He paused before adding “thank you,” as an afterthought.
“I understand.”
He did. Alex could feel he did. He let some nerves out with the next breath. Sat up again to look at Wheeler. Really look at him. He saw nothing that brought the nerves back. Sincerity. Caring. Concern. Desire, even. Alex flexed his jaw. Started to speak. Stopped. Rethought. Started to speak.
“Are you gay?” Alex didn’t even mean to ask it. He didn’t know why he did. Frankly, he didn’t much care what the answer would be. It was just something to say.
Wheeler’s eyes twinkled. He studied Alex’s face.
“Would I kiss you if I weren’t? Invite you to my apartment?”
Alex flushed. “I know. I just…I thought…maybe you were just…”
“Deluded? Too set on sympathy to care how I comforted you? I like you Alex. I can see you need help. If you don’t need that help from me, that’s fine. I’m not here to make decisions for you. You’re here to make decisions for you. I want to help you, and if you want me to help you then…you’re in the right place. If not? Key works both ways.”
“I…” Alex looked into the sun. Eyes swept the coastline. The skyscrapers reflected the orangey light on their shiny panes. He looked back at Wheeler. Down to the off-white carpet underfoot. “You’re the only one who’s…I don’t know…” He gave a quick, nervous laugh. “Asked? Noticed? Cared?” He paused again. “To be honest, I’m not sure I’d go for anyone else after what’s happened between…you and me. Not if I walked out now and goddamn Claudia Schiffer came after me tomorrow. Or,” Alex allowed himself a grin. “That DiCaprio kid.”
Wheeler laughed. Alex flushed. Wished he’d do it again.
“And there’s something else.” Alex ran a hand through his hair. Wheeler looked on expectantly.
“Why did you tell me I was being supervised? It wasn’t required.” Alex looked up, waiting quietly for an answer.
Wheeler smiled softly. Looked down to the carpet.
“Just a warning. I wanted you to know so you could make the best of the information. Watch yourself.” He looked somewhat embarrassed.
Alex laughed quietly.
“At the time I figured you were just being a snooty little jerkoff.” He looked up, eyes twinkling. “Thank you.”
The air fell silent and thick. Wheeler rose to move from the chair to the couch. Sat beside Alex and gripped his hand, pulling it up to press his lips to each of his rough knuckles. Their lips came together quickly, working and nipping, teeth bumping, tongues running along lips, tongues. Wheeler pulled Alex to him as they stood, slowly finding their way to the bedroom, stopping along the way to kiss fiercely against a wall or fumble out of a jacket.
---
In time, Alex was eased back into the bed to rest against the pillows. Wheeler smiled as he removed his own shirt, glancing down to take in his boss’s unclad torso, the sun splashing in a triangle across his abdomen, the point ending on his shoulder. He lowered himself into the bed, brushing fingers over Alex’s cheek before trailing his lips down the older man’s neck, leaving open kisses along the length of his collarbone. Alex drew breath in heavy, even pants, eyes closed and fingers fisted in Wheeler’s hair. Wheeler trailed down further, tongue dipping into groves and hollows, swathing over Alex’s nipple, teeth running over the other, eliciting a breathy gasp from the older man. Wheeler grinned against Alex’s chest, sending wisps of warm breath skimming over his flesh. Alex pulled Wheeler up, tugging softly with his hands cupped around Wheeler’s head, reaching for another kiss. Wheeler delivered gladly, pushing back up Alex’s body to meet his lips in a series of light, desperate kisses. Wheeler reached down between them to unfasten Alex’s belt as Alex bucked his hips up instinctively, urging for his touch. After a few moments of fiddling the buckle slipped free. Wheeler’s warm, slightly rough hand came around Alex’s cock, pulling softly but tantalizingly, warm flesh against warm flesh.
“Wheeler…” Alex let out in a hiss, his grip on the younger man’s shoulders shaky.
Wheeler smiled against Alex’s ear, whispering “It’s Jeffery,” before laving the shell with his tongue, drawing another shudder from the man beneath him.
“Jeffery.” Alex gave a soft, barking laugh. “Sleeping together and not even on a first name basis.”
Wheeler gave a soft chuckle, continuing to run his fingers along Alex’s straining cock.
“Fuck. Wh-Jeffery. You’ve got to stop that if you want this to go anywhere.”
Wheeler gave a coy grin. “It’s your night Alex.”
Alex groaned and fumbled with Wheeler’s shoulders, pushing him off. He kissed his forehead and looked at Wheeler’s shoulder as he fiddled with the sheet.
“I want it to be…both of us. It’s been so long since I’ve felt…anything like this. Had reason to be the least bit cheesy. So,” he smirked, meeting Wheeler’s eyes, “if you wouldn’t mind…”
Wheeler’s laugh was liquid. He flipped Alex back onto the pillows, capturing his mouth quickly and hungrily. Alex kissed back fiercely, reveling in the utter carefree joy, desire. Wheeler ran a hand down Alex’s chest, rubbing over nipples and secretly sensitive areas. He pushed two, three fingers inside, receiving a low groan from Alex as he spread them carefully to prepare him.
Wheeler’s forehead fell to Alex’s shoulder in a pant as he pushed in gently. Alex leaned his head back into the pillow, digging his fingernails into Wheeler’s back, letting out a quiet moan. Wheeler worked his way into establishing a rhythm, thrusting in and out, each time brushing Alex’s prostate and drawing a delicious moan from the older man. Wheeler squeezed his eyes shut, tangling his finger’s in the Alex’s already mussed hair, running the pads of his toes along Alex’s inner ankle in a soft gesture that pulled a shiver from Alex. The act was marked by quiet groans, light touches, and wet, open-mouthed kisses. Alex came first, exhaling and whispering incoherently under his breath, eyes slipping shut and back arching. Wheeler came just seconds later, losing control at the look on Alex’s face and groaning as he emptied himself into the man below him. They stilled, panting, regaining their breath slowly.
Wheeler kissed Alex lightly before rolling off to the side, pulling Alex with him until he rested against his shoulder. He traced circles into Alex’s lower back in time with their evening breaths. They sank into the quiet of the room, slowly letting sleep take them as the dusk outside gave way to deep, blue night.
---
Alex woke in the middle of the night, surprised to find himself still entangled in Wheeler’s arms. He grinned, finding the scene both amusing and strangely wonderful. He pulled Wheeler closer, watching his calm face in the sparse moonlight filtering through the windowpane. Freckles stood out on pale skin. Alex brushed the back of his hand down the younger man’s cheek, up through his springy curls, back down his neck to rest against his chest.
Wheeler opened his eyes slowly. He smiled, kissing Alex on the forehead.
“I’m sorry I woke you.” Alex was only half-lying.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you did.” Wheeler brushed his thumb across Alex’s collarbone.
They lay there for a few minutes. Quiet. Delicate touches fluttering over backs and necks and arms, each slowly growing accustomed to the other.
“I’m glad you came here.” Wheeler whispered finally, meeting Alex’s eyes as best he could in the limited light.
Alex laughed softly. “You’re just in it for the sex,” he quipped.
Wheeler grinned. “Ha. Well it’s not often I invite crotchety old men into my bed.”
“Oh? Crotchety? That’s how it is? Well I’ll have you know that being crotchety is rather important when it comes to sex,” Alex deadpanned, the laughter sneaking into his voice.
“Is that right? Crotchety? I do believe you’ve got your words mixed up old man, but I take your point.” Wheeler chuckled, kissing Alex’s temple and gripping his fingers, pulling them to his mouth, pressing his lips against the older man’s palm.
“I’m glad I came too.” Alex’s voice was quiet.
Wheeler pulled him in for a kiss. Soft but hot, it sent a warm shiver up Alex’s spine. The younger man broke away slowly, pulling Alex to him once again. Alex settled in, nestling his head into the hollow of Wheeler’s shoulder. This time when sleep took them, it stuck till morning.
---
They woke to find sunlight streaming through the window, reflecting brilliantly off the lake below. Through coffee they watched the daily news. A young reporter was talking animatedly. Alex caught six words “Burrows, Scofield, innocent, Reynolds, arrested, conspiracy” before choking on his coffee. He coughed quickly. He and Wheeler stared at the television, letting the news flood over them. Alex gazed down into his coffee cup, eyes alight with amazement. He looked to Wheeler. They shared a shy, happy grin. Alex gripped Wheeler’s hand across the table. He supposed they wouldn’t be going in to work today. Perhaps a swim.
FIN