It had been a puzzling couple of days. No pun intended.
Kevin took Cheddar in from his slightly-later-than-usual evening walk -- a welcome respite from Kevin’s oddly stressful home life, since Cheddar didn’t care about statistics, or have any tendencies toward weirdly escalating what Kevin thought was an interesting tidbit into a full-blown multi-day argument. He settled in the study to revisit a well-thumbed copy of Homeric text, complete with his argumentative notes on translation penciled in the margins, because he figured he deserved some relaxation time.
About thirty-five minutes later, Raymond came practically barrelling in, shutting the door 15% more loudly than normal (although Kevin was in no hurry to go quoting numbers around Raymond anytime soon), nearly knocking the coat hanger over while hanging up his coat, muttering to himself while he unlaced his shoes and jammed them into his weekday evening slippers. Kevin turned his head toward Raymond slowly, readying the most withering of sighs to direct toward this even still being a thing, when Raymond noticed the unopened bottle of wine on the table.
“Is that a Medeira?” Raymond said, eyeing the bottle of red. “On a Wednesday?”
Good, Kevin thought. A conversational start that had nothing to do with Monty Hall.
“It was...peculiar,” Kevin said. “You know Geraldine, the staff assistant from my department? She insisted I take it. I thought it was slightly inappropriate, considering our professional relationship, except, well, it wasn’t for me,” Kevin explained, proffering the bottle. “She said it was for you .”
“I didn’t think Geraldine and I were particularly close,” Raymond mused.
Kevin let Raymond puzzle over this while he slipped to the dining area for a corkscrew.
“She’s a friend. She knew I was worried about you, and she knew you’d come home after being away for a long time.” Kevin omitted the part where she’d been privy to an embarrassingly personal series of slips of his, after their most recent faculty wine-and-cheese reception.
"Oh, if that's all," Raymond said, with his eyebrow quirked in a way that Kevin knew meant he didn’t quite mean it.
Kevin affected the subtlest of shrugs. “It’s a very nice wine. I think you should have some.”
Kevin took back the bottle, delicately, and began to pour Raymond a glass. Then he had a thought, swapped out their regular wine glasses for a set of comically large goblets, and started over.
“You would not believe the day I had at work today,” Raymond said, settling on the couch next to Kevin. He took a larger-than-advisable sip of wine, aided by the larger-than-advisable glass.
Kevin was temporarily distracted by the shape of Raymond’s fingers. “Oh?”
“Full of insubordination and intrusions into our personal lives."
"Oh?" he said, eyebrows climbing even higher.
"Lieutenant Diaz said that we had been arguing over math problems because we are..." Raymond's voice lowered half an octave, "sexually frustrated."
"Oh," Kevin said, eyebrows coming together in consternation.
"She said," Raymond said, enunciating every word, "we needed to bone ."
"And she used that phrasing?" Kevin asked. "A bit coarse for the workplace."
"Exactly!" Raymond said. "Moreover, it was an unbelievable breach of protocol."
"Agreed," Kevin said, eyes fixed on Holt's lips as he enunciated every word. "I trust you made that clear to her?"
"Oh," Raymond said, looking up at him with hooded eyes, his voice once again descending. "Yes."
Kevin did not exactly picture Raymond roaring “BONE?!” as he had to the precinct earlier that day. Kevin pictured something a bit sterner, darker, more controlled. The sort of thing that, incidentally, would really do it for him were Raymond’s mouth up to his ear.
Raymond looked down into his drink. “Those goblets are comically large,” Raymond observed.
“Hm,” said Kevin, faking nonchalance. “They are, aren’t they.”
“I told Rosa,” Raymond continued, “at a volume I believe sufficient for all the office to hear, she, and everyone else in the precinct, was to immediately cease speaking or even thinking about what I, and my husband, do in our bedchamber.”
Kevin thought for a moment. “How about in our kitchen?”
“They were not exactly interested in recipes...oh.” Raymond said, remembering around last Christmas, when a series of Kevin’s kiss-the-cook quips had escalated into more-than-kissing. Raymond blinked quickly. “Oh, yes. They would do well to stay out of our kitchen as well.”
Kevin leaned to get his glass, taking the opportunity to press his thigh against Raymond’s. “Might they discuss my hand upon your knee here, in the living room?”
Raymond met Kevin’s eyes, and regarded their mischievous turn. “Any discussion would be extremely inappropriate.”
“Then perhaps I should cease and leave you be?”
“That would also be inappropriate.”
“Your hand has found mine, I see,” Kevin said, setting down his comically large wine glass.
“I believe it is you who is entwining your fingers bedevilingly in mine.”
“Would you like me to let go?” Kevin asked, sliding his free hand from Raymond’s knee to further up his thigh.
“No, no I would not,” Raymond said, his voice reaching the lower pitch again.
Kevin held him just a little tighter.
Raymond was again slightly distracted by the contents of his glass. “Well, will you look at the legs on this one,” Raymond said swirling the wine in the comically large goblet before setting it down. “That’s a wine term.”
“You know I know that’s a wine term.”
Raymond raised both his eyebrows, again. “And I know you’re --”
He was about to say ‘trouble’ when Kevin ambushed him with a kiss.
Of course, Raymond would have said, were he in any position to speak out loud. Of course we needed exactly this. But he was too absorbed in the sensation of kissing Kevin back, of muscle memory returning from -- had it been the better part of a year? Had Kevin’s time in Paris and Raymond’s in Florida actually kept them apart that long? It couldn’t be, not with the way his hands found Kevin’s hips, waist, chest, unbuttoning him easily. He kissed lips again, then neck, then the very specific spot beneath the left side of his collarbone where Kevin liked to be kissed.
“Raymond,” Kevin almost-whispered, and then his voice grew stronger. “Raymond. Take me upstairs.”
“Take me upstairs,” Raymond repeated, “Or take me, comma, upstairs?”
In the bedroom, Raymond ran his hands over Kevin’s body, undressing him easily. Kevin returned the favor and, once he pulled Raymond’s clothes off, knelt. He held Raymond by the hips and kissed them, then the top of his thighs, then his cock, nuzzling it as he went. It was adorable, and sweet, and, Raymond noted as he sucked air through his teeth, entirely too gentle.
Raymond pulled Kevin to standing on the pretext of another kiss, and then tackled him to the bed. Kevin gasped at the momentary display of force, flushed with arousal, but still wily. He played at wriggling away, and Raymond pinned him to the bed with his hands. You push my buttons, I’ll push yours.
Raymond kissed his way down Kevin’s stomach and then swallowed his cock much too fast, gripping his hips much too tight, applying pressure much too quickly. Kevin’s hips jolted forward and Raymond pressed them back down, working him over with his mouth and tongue. Kevin made a sound that could have been a swear, or literal Greek, or both, as he came into Raymond’s mouth. Raymond swallowed it, relishing. Mine .
When released, Kevin rolled over on his side. The please-spoon-me position. “That was mean, Raymond.”
“Was it?” He knew it was. He knew a post-orgasmic Kevin was intensely sensitive to touch, and yet wouldn’t be able to bear not-touching. Raymond fit his hand in the cleft of Kevin’s ass, not entering yet. “Would you like me to stop?”
“Please don’t stop.”
Raymond massaged with his hand, turning Kevin onto his stomach. He ran both hands over Kevin’s ass, appreciating its shape. He began massaging with his tongue instead, and Kevin jolted, but Raymond held him firm.
“ὣς φάτο,” Kevin gasped. “τὸν δ᾽ ἄχος ὀξὺ κατὰ φρένα τύψε βαθεῖαν.”
Darling Kevin, so overwhelmed he’d fallen into recitation. Raymond rested his cheek on Kevin’s cheek. “In English, please.”
“ Forthwith he seized Ate by her bright-tressed head --”
“Hmm,” Raymond nodded approvingly, his tongue back to work, though Kevin’s bright-tressed head was too far away to reach.
“ wroth in his soul --”
Certainly, Raymond thought, though his soul was decidedly less wrothful at the moment.
“and sware a mighty oath that never again unto --” Kevin became unintelligible here, for a few syllables.
“ ...the starry heaven should Ate come.”
Oh, hardly .
Raymond raised his head and climbed over Kevin to reach the bedside table drawer. He raised his eyebrows at the somewhat depleted bottle of lubricant, and what it suggested about the frequency of Kevin’s self-stimulation in his absence. Kevin moved underneath him, desperate for more touch. Raymond turned Kevin’s body to his, hugging him close for a moment, kissing him again. Kevin ran his hands over Raymond’s back, neck, and petted his face, asking both please soothe my body and let me take care of you.
Raymond started with his fingers but Kevin was ready quick. He breathed deep as Raymond entered him. Raymond lay his head on Kevin’s shoulder and thrust his hips, as close as they could be after being apart for so long, out of sync at first but finding a rhythm. He found Kevin’s arm and squeezed it, hard; fucking meant my body needs you but also I need you and be here.
Raymond came with a loud, rolling, near-choking sound that Kevin felt inside and out. They lay still, holding each other for a long few minutes.
With Raymond still immobile, Kevin slipped off to the bathroom and a fresh pair of underwear. When he stirred several minutes later, Kevin passed him a clean pair of pajamas.
“What about your pajamas?” Raymond asked.
“You might recall,” Kevin said, “when I was in Paris, the dog literally ate them.”
“He missed you very much,” Raymond said, with more weight in his voice than he intended. “He...expressed it in an inappropriate manner.”
Kevin nodded, reflective. “The passage I was quoting,” he explained, “was about how humans were cursed to have their judgment clouded sometimes.”
“One could say,” Raymond started, in his way that betrayed a joke was coming, “that your recitation was... Homer-erotic.”
“Oh my,” said Kevin.
“Oh my,” said Raymond.
“Perhaps you are,” said Raymond. He could tell Kevin was genuinely flattered. “Would you like to wear a pair of my pajamas?”
“Not tonight, actually,” Kevin said, pushing aside the pair Raymond was holding as well. “Just this once.”
They usually slept comfortably separate, even on the best nights, but tonight they slept close, holding hands. There were words they hadn’t said out loud yet, about how dare they take you away from me and I’ve never in my life been more afraid of losing you and I love you, please forgive me, but there would be time.