BLIPS by Annie P


[Thanks to Annie for kind permission to reproduce her story, and for giving consent to the writing of ECLIPSE which is the companion piece to this.]


J walks to the passenger side of the upgraded LTD and slides into the seat before he quite realizes what he's doing. When he does he winces and looks at K … Kevin. My God ... Kevin ... out of the corner of his eye. How is it a person he's known less than a week altogether affects him like this?

Why is he suddenly feeling … acting … like the rookie K keeps accusing him of being? He's been doing this for five years. Saved the world ... more times than is healthy to remember, even though he does, and had help on exactly four of those occasions. He works alone and, next to K, has the highest record of successful handling of intergalactic 'situations'. He's ... neuralyzed every partner he's had.

He feels a little cold, brittle around the edges. Realizes he's felt like this for ... a long time. He hazes over exactly how long. His hand slides into the front pocket on the inside of his suit. His standard issue, completely 'normal', MiB attire.

He'd only worn the other, more stylish suit until he'd neuralyzed L. That was after she'd been tossed into the golden arches at a McDonalds by an annoyed Xrieshall. They'd gotten word on the aliens tantrum late and the alien had already started ... when they'd gotten there ... carnage was an understatement and L, she'd looked so ... lost ... He hadn't had the heart to stop himself from flashing her. He hadn't gotten another suit made up after the Xrieshall's acidic blood burned six holes through the pants and three in the jacket.

He has scars from four of those burns.

He reaches for his neuralyzer and his fingers slide over his glasses. Heavy duty, block everything up to a nuclear blast, official MiB glasses. The fancy glasses he'd been trying to use before ... well, he'd only needed to get one partial blast from his own neuralyzer to switch back to the old glasses.

He'd had to stay at Headquarters for a week because the deneuralyzer had been dismantled to show an alien dignitary the mechanics. One of the worst weeks of his life. His memory had been full of so many holes he'd felt like an old sock.

He fingers his new and improved neuralyzer. Pulls it out and stares at it. Wonders.

"What do you think you're going to do with that, slick?" K's voice breaking through his thoughts and scattering them in the opposite direction. Why is he playing with his neuralyzer, anyway? And thinking Great Thoughts isn't something he normally does ... if he wants that he can turn on Oprah.

He thinks about it a minute and realizes why. "Well, hell. Trying to figure out if I have the strength to do this to you again, if you ask me." He looks out the window. "Are you going to ask me?"

Long pause in which J thinks about getting out the glasses but doesn't because even if K does want to forget again, he can't do anything about it now, can he? Not when K's driving. And damn it. What is he going to do this time? He already has Issues, note the capital I, from having to do it the last time, how would he feel this time? Then "No," pushes the silence back again and J is trying to pull his eyes away from the little yellow lines on the road.

"No?" Angry enough to pull his head up. "You aren't going to ask? Well, hell, let me find you ... I have one somewhere, I know I do ... " He pats his pockets, then remembers and opens the glove compartment and pulls out a small medal he'd pulled off the mastermind behind the Creelon invasion. Remembers what that was like and the anger just. Leaves.

And he's just staring at this little piece of metal. "Backstreet Boys of the universe, huh?" He screws his eyes shut a little and looks at K. "It was perfect, from an evil genius point, you know. Almost worked. No one was ready for it." He turned to look out the window again. Laughed a little. "Be like if Canada just up an' bombed the shit outta someone." He thinks about the Creelons. Seven feet tall and still managing to look like kittens, and they'd nearly overrun London. The England branch of MiB hadn't been ready.

He'd neuralyzed his third partner after that. Told him to try and succeed in the art world even though the man hadn't been able to paint worth a damn, because. Well, someone should get to be happy, right?

Last he heard, the guy's doing great as an abstractist.

He's looking at K again. Tries not to think about anything. Ends up thinking about Laura. "So was she your daughter?" He asks, and K just looks at him and what, he's supposed to be sorry? He wants to know, damn it. He wants to know if the only girl he's been interested in in five years is the daughter of the only man who.

Turns back to the road. Watches the yellow lines blip past.

"So you want to tell me why you don't have a partner?"

Thinks about giving K his own look back, but decides against it. What does he care? T was a nice guy, sort of, and he did the right thing neuralyzing him. "Last partner couldn't take it."

"Not tough enough?"

"Oh, physically he was fine. Mentally?" He's snorting. "He - no. Not tough enough. Didn't know what he was getting into."

"None of us do."

He looks over and makes some kind of sound. Agreeing, he hopes but he really doesn't want to talk about. Well, any of this if he's honest with himself. The subject of partners is something he slides around, over, under, past, any way he can, because. He doesn't want to think about it. He likes denial. It's safe and comfortable. Well worn. Easy.

He watches the lines. Blip, blip, blip …

"Did you, slick? When you walked into that elevator, talking about skills and names, did you have a clue?" K's voice breaking the pattern again, scattering his careful non-thoughts and pushing him back to the real world.

He thinks about it. Pulls his eyes away from K's hands and looks at him. Thinks about it some more. Says, "I handled it fine my first three days working." and winces because that's just. Way too close to things he's not thinking about and things he doesn't want to know and just. Shit. He sighs and tilts his head back against the seat and closes his eyes and just. Stops. Breathing. Thinking. Everything.

But that can only last so long and then he's gulping air down and thinking too much and, God, why does he have to feel like this? Why? What has he done, and can he just say he's sorry now and be done? Please?

There's no answer and he's turning the radio on before K can ask, and, fuck, he's thinking, fuck, don't ask. Turns up the radio and then he's realizing what song is playing and he's thinking fuck, fuck is a good word, lets stick with the trend and fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck! Why isn't someone putting him out of his misery out of sheer pity?

I'm fed up with my destiny

And this place of no return.

I think I'll take another day

And slowly watch it burn.

He's dropping his head forward and hitting the dashboard and hey, pain. Pain is good. He doesn't have to think through pain, just feel it. And fuck, there's feel again ...

It doesn't really matter

How the time goes by,

'Cause I still remember you and I

And that beautiful goodbye.

God this is corny. Like someone is watching his life and deciding on ways to make him more miserable. And then he's banging his head against the dashboard again, for good measure, because they aren't going Mach 3, racing to save the world and this is his radio, damn it, and he can turn it off if he wants.

"Want to tell me why you're slamming your head against the dashboard, slick?"

No, he's thinking, and, God, didn't you just hear me? I said don't ask. Why does his life have to be such a soap opera, anyway? And he's laughing at the idea, what, As the LTD Turns?, and he really should stop laughing now because he's probably worrying his partner, and God, that word again.

I've staggered through these empty streets

Laughin' on and on.

The night has made a mess of me,

Your confessions left me warm.

I don't really miss you-

Okay, he's thinking about the song as little as possible and is glad it's off because it was making him think, and really, that hasn't been a good thing for about five years.

Yeah, now he's thinking again, but mostly it's wondering what higher life form he pissed off and if the last forty eight hours could be considered as torture so he can arrest whatever it is. Stops himself from using his head to beat the car again because, really, what had the car ever done to him? It was a nice car. Wonders if petting the car is weirder then anything else in his life.

Remembers K asked a question and would probably like, you know, an answer, and soon, if you please. So he's shrugging, pulling his head up and wincing at the head rush and saying "No," nice and simple and oh, look. More yellow lines.


K's voice is in his ears again and Jesus fuck, he's done. Just, beyond it all right now. He's tired and aches and has just been thrown around twice in the last half hour, and Christ, is it too much to ask to let him get back to HQ and go to sleep for three and a half months, long enough, at least, for K to leave because.

"What are you thinking?"

Jesus H. Christ on a fucking rubber crutch. Now he's chatty? Now??? The only person in the world who answers every question with silence and he wants to talk, he's thinking, and, fuck me if I answer. And "I'm not," he's answering before he can stop himself.

"You're not."

The tone's negating the question, turning it into a statement, but he's too fucking tired to care and so there. And he's answering like it was a question and K can kiss his sexy black ass and call it a love story if he's got a problem. "Nope. See, thinking takes up valuable not-thinking time."

"Not-thinking time. I see."

"Yeah." He's sliding low in the seat, he realizes. Thinks about pulling himself up again, but, hell, everyone's allowed a little breakdown every now and then and he is so ready to cash his in. It wasn't like he hadn't earned it. The whole Geoff thing alone had bought him some serious freak-out time.

So he's sliding down into the leg room and waiting for his freak-out time and wondering vaguely if he looks as big a mess as he thinks he does when he feels the car. Or, actually, stops feeling the car. Which means either he's been transported into some kind of silent film - which had happened twice already, didn't need a threepeat - or the car's stopped. Doesn't think which is more likely because he already knows his life is weird and doesn't need another reminder, thanks. Keeps sliding down. Blinks stupidly when his door is pulled open and when did K get out of the car?

"Come on, kid, get up."

Thinks about it. Peers around K. Slides low enough that he slips off the seat and is in as much of a fetal position as he can be, as tall as he is. "Nah, don't think so. I'm good."

"That's funny, because you look like a Grethem on downers."

"Low blow, man." He wonders how much more banter he has stored away. Looks up at K and hopes it's enough to get him through this conversation without actually saying anything. Tries not to think the things he doesn't want to say.

And apparently K isn't even going to give him the chance because "Get up" is in his ears and his body doesn't wait for his head to say no, so when his head catches up he's half standing, half out the car, and his brain tells his body to stop and he's tumbling out of the car. "God damn." At least his voice sounds cool. He's not thinking about what he looks like sprawling out against the LTD and just. Sits. He's not thinking, he's good.

Except now K's there and his eyes are ruining all of J's careful not thinking. And "Damn it," why is he doing this, anyway?

Doesn't realize he'd asked the question until K says, "You're my partner." And, well, isn't that nice? Now they're partners. "Partners?" God, that word. That word is ripping through his careful not-thinking and he's got his arms wrapped loosely around his knees and his head is thrown back and he's laughing. Sees K isn't laughing. Wonders why. Doesn't he think this is funny?

"Partners. That's sweet. Now you wanna be partners. I'm speechless. Oh, wait, no I'm not. Fuck you, K." And good, anger is good. It's better than thinking and he's not laughing anymore, he's on his knees and in K's face. "Just. Fuck you, man. I don't need a partner." Not true but close enough that he doesn't mind the lie under the anger.

"Oh, that's right, you work alone. How long now?"

And for such an emotionless tone K sure sounded annoyed, almost angry. He thought about it. Grinned. "You know, this is the first time I've heard you act pissy." Rolls his eyes up from the dirt between K's feet. "My heart's bleeding for you, man, it really is." His tone is maybe a little more sarcastic, has a little more bite then he intended, but K doesn't blink.

"What happened to the doctor?"

"L? She was happier with the bodies after they were dead. Man, that girl was weird." He's standing now, because he feels like an idiot kneeling in the dirt on the side of a small country road in the middle of. He doesn't even know where.

"Why don't you tell me why you don't have a partner."

Again, not a question, again J's answering like it was. "No, don't think so." Sees K raise an eyebrow and wonders if he's drunk or high or something, because he's answering again. "See, talking about it means I have to think about it. Not a good thing. Best to just leave it be."

"Leave it be." K's voice really doesn't sound happy. "Huh. Well, that's an option, yeah." And now there's K, definitely angry and way too close for comfort and the LTD is preventing him from backing away more then a step. "Back off, K."

"No." Back in his face and he's against the LTD and now there really is nowhere to go and K's still talking. "You're going to talk to me."

"I thought that's what we were doing." Scraping the bottom of his banter barrel, here, and doing a piss poor job of it, but still successfully not thinking.

"Kid, if you don't start talking right now I will - "

"What, neuralyze me?" He can't stop thinking about it now, and damn it, fine. If K wants him to talk, he'll talk. "Yeah, cause I gotta tell you, that ain't fun. I haven't wanted a partner since you ... left. I thought that's what we were, and then you ... and damn it, they kept giving me these, these kids, and what was I supposed to do? I ain't a fucking baby sitter and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I never got any formal training, so I don't know how I'm s'posed to act, which is your fault, by the way, and all I could do when I knew they were ready to crack was make 'em forget."

"What about you? What did you do when you were ready to crack?" K's voice quieter now, less annoyed, still angry.

"I worked out. Concentrated on the job. Didn't think. Got real good at denial." He's looking at the stars now, the tree to the side of the car, a piece of litter he should pick up later. Anywhere but K. Says quietly, "Didn't want to have to relearn how to depend on myself when whoever I was counting on left again, you know. That's why I don't have a partner. That and well." But the rest of the sentence is to much to soon and he stops himself from finishing it. Then, in case K thinks this is because of MiB and the aliens and all, adds, "Don't worry, man, I was fucked up before MiB. Y'all didn't do nothing special."

And apparently K's ignoring that, because, "You're saying that me leaving is what's been making you so stupid?"

Thinks about that for a minute before grinning up at the stars. "Naah, I've always had my moments." Then he sobers up and the brittle feeling is back. "Just. Hell, man, what was I supposed to feel?"

And K's blinking like he just thought something extremely surprising and J's need to be anywhere but here doing anything but this grows and K's opening his mouth again and he's wishing he could turn off his ears.

"What do you want?"

And a really short question to turn a world on its ass over, but that's what J's wishing. A nice evil genius interrupting this little conversation. Too bad he'd blasted Jarra into the next millennium. What does he want? To be anywhere but here. Again. To not answer that question. To stop the world and turn it back a few days like a clock. To stop thinking, to not do what he knows he's going to and, "God," it's to late to completely stop himself, but he can turn the grab into a hug and hide his face in a semi-stiff shoulder and just. Hold on. Push impulses far enough away that he doesn't have to think about them and glad for it.

His arms tightening around K's shoulders and his legs have finally decided to shut down now because he's sinking and it looks like he's bringing K with him. Muttering against black fabric and not knowing what he's saying isn't so bad, especially when there's someone hugging him back. Realizing he's saying "oh, God, oh God" over and over and not caring.

"You have to tell me what you want, kid. I'm not telepathic."

That voice tearing through his not-quite panic attack and J knew what he wanted, admitted it to himself, but he couldn't say it. Couldn't talk about it after so long of. Not. And why did K suddenly want to talk now, anyway? He's thinking, not enjoying it, and wonders how long they can just stay like this.

Apparently five more seconds, because K is talking again and can't he just shut up and let himself be hugged?

"J, talk to me. Now. What is it?" And God, why does he have to say this? Why does he have to think about it? He's looking at K now, even though he really, really liked keeping his head on the other mans shoulder. Too close to avoid locking eyes and he knows he's got his entire fucking world showing right there and that's a hell of a lot to show anyone, even K. Wants to close his eyes but doesn't because it's too late for damage control now, and fuck songs talking about people and their hearts on their sleeves, like it's that fucking easy.

Feels like he's got a sucking chest wound and just invited someone to plunge his fingers in and feel around and why isn't K saying anything? Eyes sliding closed before he can stop them and not opening even though he knows they should. Dropping his forehead back to K's shoulder because he hadn't moved away and waited.

And kept waiting. And waited some fucking more, and isn't K going to do something besides stare at him? No? Okay. That's cool, he can handle staring. Because, you know, he's J. The man. The total package, alien-ass-kicking machine and all. Who is in serious need of good freak-out time and possibly therapy. Yeah, therapy would be good.

And when he looks up, surprise surprise, K isn't staring. Which is odd, because J knows he felt somebody watching him and he knows how K's stare feels. And hey now, isn't that fun to know?

K is ... sitting there with his eyes closed. Just like J. And again ... the whole wow thing.

The neuralyzer is starting to look like a pretty good option right about now, erasing the last ... oh, half hour or so of conversation from both their minds and wait ... no, wait, someone would have to remember what they're doing and why. Well, fuck. It was his turn last time, K can step up this time.

And hey, wait. K's not talking any more. And that's a good thing, right? J can't quite figure out if it's good or not. And what he really wants to do he knows he probably shouldn't, so instead, he does what he doesn't want to do and tries to move so he can see what's going on in K's head.

Only K doesn't let go.

The wow thing again, and then one more time as J realizes okay, I really didn't want to move in the first place, and K seems to be doing this whole not letting go thing. And he really wants to know what's going through K's head right now because, damn, it would be a very bad thing if he's totally misinterpreting the situation. So, "K?" and he hadn't realized his voice could still get that small.

And K is doing ... nothing. Absofuckinglutely nothing. Hasn't moved at all and J wants to laugh, really he does, but is afraid he wouldn't be able to stop. So he makes his voice stronger, tries to project manly-man instead of scared-five-year-old. "K?"

There we go, his eyes are open and that's not necessarily a good thing because, God, he really, really wants to just lean in and just.

Doesn't matter because K lied earlier and is telepathic apparently, because he's being kissed like he's going out of style and, God, where did K learn that and should he shoot whoever taught him or thank them?

Decides it's against either in favor of kissing back, and really, for an old stoic guy, K is fucking hot, on fire even and J's already been burned once but isn't afraid to get closer. If that's even possible because he already seems to have crawled into his freaking lap, but K's not complaining so J slides farther forward, straddling his partner and just. Kisses him. Does his best to make both of them forget the five longest years of his life.

And while J is really, really happy with where he is right now, the side of some damn dusty two-lane road is not where he wants to be doing this. Pulls away and gasps for air because breathing, breathing is good too, gasps out on an exhale, "K" and doesn't get farther because K seems to have regained his sanity and is trying to get up, looking anywhere but at J and aw, Hell, no!

Slides hands into the hair on the side of K's head and holds him close enough to kiss him again before he's talking. "God, K, don't you dare, don't you fucking dare!" He grinds down and is gratified by the quick groan before he's doing the same thing. Shit, he was talking, what was he talking about again? Oh, right. "We are going back to headquarters and we are settling this." He locks eyes again and waits until K nods before grinding again. "Then we'll hopefully settle this, but let's go now 'cause I really don't wanna have to flash some country bumpkin sheriff cause he caught us makin' out."

K's nodding and J remembers he has to get up so the other man can, but doesn't quite want to yet so he leans down again and steals another quick kiss before jumping up. "You coming?" And isn't that a loaded statement now, but he's trying to avoid exploring his inner exhibitionist right now so gets into the car to avoid any further thoughts on the good points of the great outdoors.

Most of which were along the lines of 'we're here right now' anyway. And oh, good, K's getting in the car before his inner exhibitionist can change his mind about exploring. Weirdness creeping in because, Christ, he and K just made out, for the love of God, on the side of a road. Squirms a little and finally can't help it and is asking, "Who the hell taught you how to ... I mean, damn, how ... " Wincing when he realizes that might not have been the best question to ask but K is giving him the look. This look that's not quite an expression but so close that he gets right before he gets a dig in and J is almost ready for him this time.

"Natural skill, kid. No need to feel inadequate."

"Inad- ohho." Pause while he gets his feet under him. "I didn't hear any complaints earlier. Skills ... " He's got his bearings now and the familiar banter is going so far to displace the weirdness. "I got skills. I got lots of skills. Talk like you know. Inadequate ... "

"OK, kid. After we have your talk, you can show me your 'skills'. I expect to be impressed."

And J's, well, floored, for lack of a better word, because that came out of K's mouth, he knows it did ... Thinks about it and swallows a little. Looks over at K whose eyes seem to be firmly focused on the road and licks his lips. Being honest, and he doesn't have that many skills, in this area, at least, but is so ready to learn new ones ...


Pulling into the underground parking lot and gesturing K to stop before he spends twenty minutes finding the only empty space in the lot. Getting out of the car and waiting until K does too before leaning in and pressing the autodriver active and telling it to park. And, okay. So maybe he doesn't have to bend over that far or stay that low to give the instructions but it's been, what, almost three and a half years since he's gotten laid, and, emotions not withstanding, he's horny, damn it.

Straightening before the car takes him with it and turning to his partner, surprised the word isn't a dull throb in the middle of his back like it's been for half a decade. Not surprised that K picked up on his showing off apparently, because he's getting an entirely new and unreadable look. Raises an eyebrow, "We gonna do this?" and tries not to shuffle his feet like an impatient kid at the carnival, and, God, what a mental image …

Then K's nodding and they're walking through headquarters and it's a little strange how normal it feels. They've done this maybe four times together and J resists the urge to say 'your place or mine' because he isn't sure what K would do and his mouth is a little dry for the banter.

Then it's Z walking up to them and congratulating them and trying to say something and K interrupts smoothly and J is glad to sit back and watch someone else on the end of that stare, because even focused on him, making him uncomfortable, it's a beautiful thing. With it centered on someone else, J's deciding, it's a work of art.

Considers rethinking that when it's turned back on him, but takes one look at Z's expression, he decides against it and is grinning at K. "You have got to teach me that." And they're walking through the hallowed halls of the MiB.

"That is one of my skills, slick. I'll think about it."

And J is wondering when he'd gone from thinking K's voice monotonous to tightening his control when he hears it, and he's thinking, K probably doesn't want to start making out in the middle of the training sector and if he doesn't, he should really stop doing ... whatever it is he's doing with his voice that's making J clench his fingers. And they really, really do need to talk before any more kissing and, God, he's hating this talking thing more and more …

Turning down the hallway to his quarters and saying, "Shoo', and how long did that one take to learn?" He's pausing by his door "Or is it another one a your 'natural skills'?" and suddenly he's against the door and K's in his face again with that new look on his face. "All my skills are natural, kid." Finding it hard to breathe right before K leans back a little and he's stumbling backwards into his own quarters when the door slides open behind him.

Wonders why he's surprised K when walks in, pretty as you please. No bolts of lightning or cracks of thunder and K definitely hadn't been struck down where he was standing, and when exactly had he become convinced that there was some sort of cosmic conspiracy against them getting here?

Shaking his head and pulling out a chair and K standing in the middle of the room looking completely comfortable. Wishing he could do that and just. Staring at each other and "Well?" and he's not sure where to start.

"This was your idea, slick. What do you want to talk about?" K's voice not making it easier and clenching his hand into a fist to stop himself from. Getting what was shaping up to look like really good sex.

When had he become an idiot, again?

Can only think of one question, really, that he wants answered yesterday. Can't think how to phrase it for a galaxy. Thinking, and "How long?" seems to be the safest one.

K not even pretending to misunderstand. "Not sure how long exactly. I realized it after I'd called Z and told him we had the Arquillians galaxy and you were telling me about how you were taking care of things while I was getting my gun. First time I'd laughed during that kind of situation in God knows how many years."

Frowning a little because, hey, that's right. Confused "So ... why did you still want...?" and getting up because he has to move and now he's pacing restlessly.

"Remember what happened right after that, kid? The Bug nearly got the galaxy because I wasn't paying attention when I should have been." K's voice sounding more subdued then usual and J's passing him anyway, so he's stopping his pacing and looks at K. "An' who said you had to be perfect, huh?"

Shrugging off the look he gets. "So, since the start, huh?" Nods. "That's good." Toeing off his shoes and sliding out of his jacket, eyes locked with K's again. "Me too." Knows it's not the most romantic thing he could say, but he's never claimed to be Casanova, has he?

Loosening his tie and then dropping his hands before they get the chance to do the same thing for K. Asks "Any questions from your end?" and knows that because he's not expecting an answer he'll get one.

And "Why?" is proving him right again and someone should really be keeping count. Deciding K means why he'd fallen for his grumpier old man and answering in the same tone. "'cause I couldn't resist your animal magnetism?"

Nodding his head halfway at the look and answering again, serious "Why?" repeated and he's sitting on the bed, staring up at K. Hears his voice get softer and blames it on those romance novels Z insists are for educational purposes. Right. "Because." Stopping and starting again because he hasn't put this into words before. "Because. Even when you were a neutral you called me kid and slick." Leaning back onto his elbows, stares at the ceiling. "Because the first time you neuralyzed me you didn't just tell me to be at HQ and leave, you waited until I was aware again. Because you get this look sometimes..." Tilts his head down and he's looking at K again. "Because for the leading contender for the starring role in the next 'Grumpy Old Men' movie, you're damn sexy. And you have this. Imposing ... thing around you. Like a - I don't know, man - a - a bubble!" Waving his hands, trying to explain. "And I'm allowed in."

"Hm. You done?" Nodding because he really doesn't want to open his mouth and have something else embarrassing come out. God, he's said he likes the nick names. He'd never get rid of them now.

And K was staring again and hey, feeling weird again, half like a lab specimen, half like a treasure, and definitely not feeling the K-vibe. "Um ... K ... You can put me out of my misery any time here, man ... " Nodding, because he'd rarely in his entire life felt more uncomfortable then he felt now, and hey, most of those times had happened in the last forty-eight hours, anyway.

"Misery, slick? Well now, we'll see what we can do about that."

Oh. And oh. Yeah. He's liking the sound of that only ... yeah. Says something that sounds a lot like 'gulp' and sexy doesn't even cover it. And that look should be illegal. Maybe is, but he's not saying anything and, God, has an urge to ... wants to see so bad he can barely think straight, and that's a funny thought considering what he wants to do more than just about anything else right now is suck another man off. Suck K off. Thinking it alone is almost too much and that should be proof enough that he needs to get laid.

Is going to get laid. Soon, he hopes. There's just one little … God, hope it's not little … thing he has to do though. Bites his lip and just asks. "K, I know this is a little fast ... " OK, so maybe he doesn't just ask, but a man's allowed a little beating around the bush, and, God, even his own head is against him. Ooohkay. End that right there, okay. Stop. "Um ... K, we gonna ... or do you need a little help there?"

"I'm up for whatever you want, slick."

Slick and fucking Christ on a cross he's never gonna hear that nickname the same way again. Ever. And anything he wants? And yeah, knowing is happening but damn, how exactly do you ask someone if you can suck them off, and why the fuck isn't K out of that damn suit? Thinking about it and he's one to talk. He's not exactly a shining example of nakedness and yeah, there's a real quick way to remedy that.

Funny how when they tell you it's the last suit you'll ever wear they never mention you taking it off. Then again, outside of Serleena, J had never exactly seen anyone as remotely interested in Z and so maybe that thought had never occurred to him and what the fuck! Oh, sweet Jesus, the mental images and, God, get out of my head, Z! Okay, so not helping at all but at least he's breathing a little easier now, and doesn't look like he has an erector set shoved down the front of his pants, and it was a little easier to start taking clothes off.

Down to his boxers and looking up. K is very much not naked and damn it, what is so hard about this concept? Does he need a set of directions? Maybe a pamphlet or two?

Rolling over to the edge of the bed and sliding off so they're standing even, more or less, and he raises an eyebrow. "So, what's the hold up? I realize it's been a while, but damn, I didn't know your memory was gone, too ... "

Backing back up that step and he really wasn't kidding when he'd talked about that bubble, damn it, and "My memory is fine, kid, I'm just waiting to see what you got. Where are those skills you were talking about?" is very much not helping.

Isn't out of the running yet, "Well, I was gonna wait for you to take your clothes off, but if you really want me to do this through the suit ... " and sliding down the back of the bed until his knees hit the floor and he's thinking, yeah. And, there's the damn erector set again.

Looking up and grinning at the look on K's face and gesturing to the pants, licks his lips to see what happens. Does it again when K makes this little noise and whoa, K's dropping next to him and, whoo, there's the bed and oh, yeah kissing. Kissing is good. We like kissing.

And pulling away when he starts thinking of himself in third person because, really, he's already fucked up enough, and he doesn't need to add crazy on the end of the list, thanks. Drops his head to K's shoulder and hey, surprise, white. Notices the jacket on the floor from the corner of his eye and mentally cheers before his eyes fall down onto. A rather impressive erection. Damn, now he's going to have some weird ass Pavlovian conditioning - see a bulge, your mouth waters. Mountains were gonna be hell.

Says softly, because he can't wait for K to pick up the fucking huge ass hints he'd dropped, "K?" Pulling back a little so they can do the eye contact thing, makes sure he's definitely watching him and he's dropping his eyes to K's crotch and back up. "Need some help with that?"

Then he's snickering at the look on K's face, "Well, I could have said 'come here often, sailor?' But I didn't think it would convey the right amount of I-want-to-suck-you-now-please, and that was important to me." And why is he talking when he could be helping K with that big problem and making himself happy at the same time and, really, these bouts of stupidity should be professionally looked at later. Much later.

And okay. K's not stopping him and he's going to just do this because waiting really is overrated and shut the fuck up. Can't stop his hands from shaking when they end up not on the waist of K's black pants, but the big - okay, huge - bulge is right there, and back to the whole Pavlov thing because he's definitely going to be drooling if that's any indication of what's hiding there.

Zipper ... where the fuck is the zipper, know there's a zipper and ha! There it is and somewhere there's a chorus of angels singing as holy shit, and, it's K, and yeah. Now that the zipper is done the button is really easy to find and lookie there, the pants are on the floor! See how easy that was, K? All you have to do is ask and, God, and lookie again, K is a commando man and isn't that something every agent should know about their partners!

Face to ... well, face to cock and that's cool too, and J's really not sure what the hell he's doing but he's had blow jobs before and it can't be that hard, right? And now would be the time to stop thinking and just suck in and oh ... what the fuck was he thinking again? Oh yeah. K's cock. That's it. How ... okay yeah, this could get real addictive. Those little moaning sounds are so far from bad, too, and God, why had he never done this before? Oh, right, the whole heterosexual thing. Well. Shot that to hell and he's sad, really, he is, see? This is sad sucking here. Totally mournful little licks and he has the feeling he's a natural at this.

Definitely bragging later, but right now sucking. And licking. Maybe a nibble or two, depending on K's reaction ... oh yeah, definitely a little nibbling. Remembering how good flicking this little spot just under the head of his own cock feels and flicks his tongue over it and yeah, another good spot. And, hey, sort of like sucking a lollypop but without the nauseating cherry flavor.

And you know, his hands should really be doing something right about now. Maybe. Yeah, let's play with his balls see how that feels and yeah, yeah, K likes that too. Damn but he's an easy man to please. More brag and yeah, more suck.

Moans are nice. Moans are very nice, 'cause it means we're on the right track here together and yeah, lots of nice here. And oh, man. Okay, coming soon, and, God I hope so 'cause I need a little help myself here.

Okay, so feeling that jerk and oh, yeah. It's about that time, and thinking that yeah, pulling off is good cause he wants to see this first, and, jacking, tightening his grip a little and jacking is good, jacking is what I should be doing to myself and if he doesn't stop that, I won't need to, and fucking Jesus. Okay, he doesn't have to stop that because it's just totally hot to watch K not have control and fuck your hand like that and yeah. Did I say addictive?

Watching K and aw, hell yeah and stroking faster and hello, should be doing himself but it takes two fucking hands here and oh no, not complaining, not a single word, nosirree. And, yeah, come on, K, that's it, and fuck. Okay, he's not only hot but gorgeous and oooh, that was my name - yep, me, J - that just came out of his mouth and yes. Okay. Yes. Lots of humping here and oh God, and fuck this, next time, I'm not letting this go to waste like that again. No sir. Not that. And okay ... now I'm smirking. And damn it, I have a right to smirk. He's leaning back against the bed and that must mean I did pretty damn good for my first blow job.

Sitting down is very good, and hey, hello, what's this? K watching him with that new look he's coming to really, really like, and "Get over here." like he's going to say no. Soon as ... holy fuck! "K!" Son of a bitch, the man has rough hands!

"That's my name, kid." And, okay, he's just being an asshole now. "Can we ... little faster, here, please?"

"Sure thing, slick."

And oh, yeah, now that's. Yeah. Fuck and God, and damn it, and where the hell did he learn to do that? Okay, maybe he jerks himself like this and oh. Images I do not need to be seeing right now, except. Shit. Yeah. Oh, hell yeah, and we're gonna do that too, right after we do this. Yeah. "Christ. K ... I'm going ... "

"No you're not."

Fucking Jesus! "What the fuck, man!" That little twist was out of this fucking world and now is very much not the time for bad puns, now is the time to thrust up and stop fucking thinking and think fucking!

"Open your eyes, kid, not doing this until I can see you." And aw, hell no, and he isn't gonna get all bossy on me, now, damn it. But the man's got my dick in his hand and yeah. He is, and okay, and yeah, I seriously think I could be in love here.

"That's right, kid, come on now."

Oh fuck, he's thinking, and, not with those eyes, you don't look at me like that, K, not unless you want some serious fucking Issues here, man, and Christ, they're gonna come anyway, and you can keep looking at me like that and okay, kissing. Kissing is good because tongues and, yeah, and sucking, and if he's sucking my tongue I can't scream the place down and God!

Okay, and God, and no more thinking. My brain just splattered out through my dick and no. No more thinking. Just. No. Not thinking, just holding on, and who the hell knew K was a cuddler anyway, and why the hell wasn't he told? Need to know information, here, people.

And there's thinking now, and a little laugh because, yeah, they'd gotten the jacket and pants off, but K's still wearing his shirt and, God, he was going to get that man out of that suit if it killed him. Brushing off the idea of letting him keep it on and role playing Interrogator and Suspect because, God, he just did not need to know the depths his kinks had sunk to.

Then K tapping his shoulder and they're standing and he's getting the message and crawls over the bed and worms under the covers and why isn't K doing the same thing? Giving his own look and good, and yeah, see, this cuddling thing works better with two of us and it's even better on the bed, and who's a clever boy, then?

Thinking again and dreams. Dreams have not been good lately and wondering, will they be the same, and, should he warn K? Decides he probably should, and, "If you're staying here, I should warn you. Weird dreams, man. Just. Not good times." And he tightens his arms a little in case K tries to leave.

But, arms tightening around him, and "I'm not going anywhere, junior," and that's. Nice. Very nice, even, and all the Issues in the world can't stop him from just enjoying tonight right now.



* * *

Click for companion story ECLIPSE