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gonerunningaway) wrote2012-08-30 05:04 am
gonerunningaway) wrote2012-08-30 05:04 am
Tide-Water Dogs, Chapter Nineteen
Title: Tide-Water Dogs, Chapter Nineteen
Fandom: The Departed
Rating: NC-17
Word Count (this chapter): 1,813
Warnings this chapter (highlight to view): Explicit sex.
Chapter Nineteen
Sean takes the T to meet Robert in the Common where they plan to go for a run. They’ll probably get a quick lunch after before heading off; Robert has plans to go to the museum and do a little work, and Sean’s going to relax before diving into the week.
He’s a little early, so he stretches and paces where they agreed to meet, until Robert walks up to him. “Hi.”
Sean smiles. “Hi.”
“Let me stretch, and then we can go.”
At some point, Sean’s going to have to ask what Robert has against kissing in public. Now doesn’t seem like the time, though, so he just watches Robert stretch, and then they start off at a slow pace, enough for Sean’s breathing to stay even and steady, until they’ve stretched a second time and then really get going, setting a pace that quickens his breathing and makes him feel his heartbeat increase, steadily pounding against his ribs and in his neck at a familiar speed. He welcomes the stretch and force into his thighs and calves as he moves.
They slow when they’ve looped several blocks and back through the park, and Sean brushes his hand against Robert’s. He doesn’t pull away, which Sean takes to mean he’s not against all public touch. “You want to get lunch together?” he asks as they jog, slow and easy, and his breathing begins to even and get down to its usual frequency. He uses the back of a bench to stretch his quad and hip, and then switches legs.
“Sure. Not unless we can sit outside, though.” Robert grins at him. “It would be a little rude to go in somewhere.”
Sean laughs. “Yeah, it would, wouldn’t it?” He’s not the only one half-soaked in sweat.
“We should go out tomorrow night,” he says, too casually to be real.
“Why’s that?” They usually go out Wednesday and Friday, and then spend Saturday morning together.
“We met three months ago tomorrow.”
Sean hasn’t remotely been tracking that. He pauses. “Oh. Yeah, let’s go somewhere. Have anything in mind?”
“What do you think about Italian? Nice, though, not somewhere we’d usually go.”
“As long as I pay,” Sean says firmly. “You can make reservations, but I’m getting the check.”
Robert shrugs. “Fine with me. There’s a café a couple of blocks over with outdoor seating, if you want to go there.”
“Sounds fine,” Sean agrees. He pauses at a water fountain, and then Robert takes a turn, and Sean touches his arm absently. “Which way?”
“Over here.” Robert brushes against his hand as he turns, and Sean keeps pace with him.
He thinks, vaguely, that he sees someone he recognizes, but he’s not sure and it’s not like he’s going to stop to fucking socialize. He’s occupied. “What kind of café?”
“Sandwiches, soup, the basics.” Robert shrugs. “They basically have something for everyone.”
The menu bears that out. Robert gets some kind of eggplant sandwich; Sean goes for ham and turkey, and they both guzzle water, enough that the waiter looks annoyed to have to keep refilling their glasses. Running in early August can easily make for dehydration, and Sean for one doesn’t feel like having that happen.
Sunday stays as calm as planned, and the undercovers have the decency not to disrupt Sean’s anniversary dinner. He picks up Robert after work and asks, “Where are we going?”
“Baci. Make a right up here.” Robert gives directions the rest of the way, until Sean parks outside a building that looks almost like an old stone-walled church.
“Looks nice,” Sean says as they head inside.
“Messer, party of two,” Robert says to the hostess.
“It’s going to be about five minutes.”
They stand in the lobby; the seats are all taken. “So three months, huh?” Sean asks.
“You haven’t been paying attention.” It’s not a question, but it’s also not accusatory.
Sean shrugs. “I’ve been enjoying the ride. What can I say.”
“Yeah, three months.” Robert touches his hand, quick and light. “I’ve been enjoying it, too.”
They fall quiet while they wait to be called; when they are, they follow the hostess back and sit across from each other at a little table. Sean flips open his menu, scanning it. Assuming it lives up to the prices, the food should be good. “This place looks like an old church.”
“Probably because it is,” Robert says with a shrug. “A Quaker meetinghouse from the eighteen hundreds and then a Protestant church until the area turned too Catholic for it to be profitable.” At Sean’s inquisitive look, he shrugs again. “I’ve come here alone before.”
“So it’s good, huh?”
“Very. I especially like the pheasant papparedelle.”
Sean nods and keeps scanning the menu. Cacciucco looks especially good, as does pollo alla potentina. Either way, he’ll get a glass of white wine with it.
He ends up going with the cacciucco, and Robert gets the papparedelle he mentioned, and they end up ordering glasses of the same wine. When their waiter asks, “Would you like a bottle instead?” Sean shakes his head.
“We drove.”
Their waiter nods and vanishes. Robert says, “I have a question.”
Sean looks at him. “Yeah?”
Robert glances down at his lap, something Sean’s seen him do before when he’s getting up his nerve, and then back at him. “I’m in love with you.” That is not remotely what Sean could have expected. “And I’d like to be able to spend more time with you than a couple of nights a week, so I was wondering if you’d like to move in with me.”
Sean takes a drink of his water for lack of any words.
“You’ve been talking about moving out of your apartment,” Robert continues, and now he looks nervous. “There’s no point in putting down another deposit and living alone when we could live together.”
“First,” Sean says, “I love you too.” The words are more difficult to get out than they probably should be, but he hasn’t really been in love with anyone since the girl he dated his junior year of college, and he sure as hell hasn’t said it since then. “Second, I need to think about it.” Of all the questions Robert could ask, that’s not what Sean expected. Not that he knows what he did expect, but it wasn’t that.
“That’s fair,” Robert says. “Your lease isn’t up for a couple of months anyway, right?”
“Right, October. I was planning to move then.” Sean shakes his head, just once, to clear his thoughts. “I’ll think about it,” he reiterates.
“It’s an open offer.” Robert picks up his water just as the waiter comes by with their wine. “No deadline or anything. But I have plenty of room, and I was planning to replace the bed in the guest room at some point.”
“Your bed is more comfortable,” Sean muses. “I might move in just for that.” He smirks, and Robert smirks back.
“At least I’d be sharing it.”
“I’d say we could add another date night, but two’s probably my limit a week. Paperwork, meetings, other unexpected stuff, all that shit interrupts it.”
Robert nods. “I understand. It’s too bad you’re salaried. You could make excellent overtime otherwise.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Sean mutters. “I’m still making more than I did when I was undercover, which is nice.”
Robert quirks a smile. “What, you’re telling me Frank Costello doesn’t pay generously?”
“Not exactly a perk of the position,” Sean says dryly. “I was a low pay grade, so to speak.”
“You haven’t told me much about that still.”
“It’s not exactly full of happy fucking memories, so I probably won’t tell you a lot more,” Sean says with a shrug. “Nothing against you, just not something that was a joy to do.”
Robert nods after a moment. “That’s fair. If you ever want to talk about it, though.”
“You’re making all kinds of offers tonight. I’ll end up taking advantage of you.”
He leers at Sean. “There’s another open offer.”
Sean laughs and sips his wine.
The cacciucco, when it comes, is as good as it sounded from the menu description. It probably helps that Boston has so fucking much fresh seafood available, but Sean can’t even identify all the seafood in it, just that it’s flavorful and the sauce is the perfect level of spicy.
Robert has two more glasses of wine than Sean does; Sean sticks to one. Robert isn’t remotely drunk, not even tipsy, when they leave, but he is looser, more relaxed about touching Sean’s shoulder, his back, his arm. Sean likes it. When it comes down to it, he just likes touching and being touched by Robert, something he wouldn’t have thought would happen three months and a day ago. He touches too, unnecessarily guiding Robert to his side of the car with a hand on his arm, and then gets in and starts the car. Robert trails his fingers up and down his arm as he drives, and Sean comments, “You’re touching more.”
“Should I not be?”
“No, it’s fine. You don’t usually.”
He glances over to see Robert staring ahead. “I didn’t know if you cared about the possibility of other cops seeing.”
“Fuck ‘em,” Sean says freely. “If they have a problem, they can say it to my face. I like you more than all of them combined, minus Queenan, anyway.”
He catches Robert’s wide smile from the corner of his eye. “I will keep that in mind.”
“That means we can kiss in public,” Sean adds.
“Glad to have that cleared up.”
Sean parks in front of Robert’s and glances over at him. “Want me to come in?”
“I need to repay you for dinner,” Robert says, flicking a glance over him, and Sean smirks.
“Taking that as a yes.”
He’s repaid with a blowjob; Robert breaks out the tricks he’s learned Sean likes, where to press his tongue and how hard to suck. That makes it unsurprisingly excellent. Once he catches his breath, he drops to his knees, puts a condom on Robert, and the one he gives, with everything he’s learned to do over the last three months, wrings moans and curses out of Robert. When he’s caught his breath again after Sean’s finished, he says, “You’ve gotten a lot better over the last three months.”
“I’ve gotten more practice than my previous none.”
Robert smirks. “Glad to be an exception, then.”
Sean doesn’t have a good answer for that, so he kisses him hard.
He only dresses to go home instead of staying over at Robert’s because he has to work in the morning, and it really would be easier if he just lived at the house. There are other arguments to be made, but he’ll think about it more later, maybe get Mrs. Queenan’s input next time he sees her.
Fandom: The Departed
Rating: NC-17
Word Count (this chapter): 1,813
Warnings this chapter (highlight to view): Explicit sex.
Sean takes the T to meet Robert in the Common where they plan to go for a run. They’ll probably get a quick lunch after before heading off; Robert has plans to go to the museum and do a little work, and Sean’s going to relax before diving into the week.
He’s a little early, so he stretches and paces where they agreed to meet, until Robert walks up to him. “Hi.”
Sean smiles. “Hi.”
“Let me stretch, and then we can go.”
At some point, Sean’s going to have to ask what Robert has against kissing in public. Now doesn’t seem like the time, though, so he just watches Robert stretch, and then they start off at a slow pace, enough for Sean’s breathing to stay even and steady, until they’ve stretched a second time and then really get going, setting a pace that quickens his breathing and makes him feel his heartbeat increase, steadily pounding against his ribs and in his neck at a familiar speed. He welcomes the stretch and force into his thighs and calves as he moves.
They slow when they’ve looped several blocks and back through the park, and Sean brushes his hand against Robert’s. He doesn’t pull away, which Sean takes to mean he’s not against all public touch. “You want to get lunch together?” he asks as they jog, slow and easy, and his breathing begins to even and get down to its usual frequency. He uses the back of a bench to stretch his quad and hip, and then switches legs.
“Sure. Not unless we can sit outside, though.” Robert grins at him. “It would be a little rude to go in somewhere.”
Sean laughs. “Yeah, it would, wouldn’t it?” He’s not the only one half-soaked in sweat.
“We should go out tomorrow night,” he says, too casually to be real.
“Why’s that?” They usually go out Wednesday and Friday, and then spend Saturday morning together.
“We met three months ago tomorrow.”
Sean hasn’t remotely been tracking that. He pauses. “Oh. Yeah, let’s go somewhere. Have anything in mind?”
“What do you think about Italian? Nice, though, not somewhere we’d usually go.”
“As long as I pay,” Sean says firmly. “You can make reservations, but I’m getting the check.”
Robert shrugs. “Fine with me. There’s a café a couple of blocks over with outdoor seating, if you want to go there.”
“Sounds fine,” Sean agrees. He pauses at a water fountain, and then Robert takes a turn, and Sean touches his arm absently. “Which way?”
“Over here.” Robert brushes against his hand as he turns, and Sean keeps pace with him.
He thinks, vaguely, that he sees someone he recognizes, but he’s not sure and it’s not like he’s going to stop to fucking socialize. He’s occupied. “What kind of café?”
“Sandwiches, soup, the basics.” Robert shrugs. “They basically have something for everyone.”
The menu bears that out. Robert gets some kind of eggplant sandwich; Sean goes for ham and turkey, and they both guzzle water, enough that the waiter looks annoyed to have to keep refilling their glasses. Running in early August can easily make for dehydration, and Sean for one doesn’t feel like having that happen.
Sunday stays as calm as planned, and the undercovers have the decency not to disrupt Sean’s anniversary dinner. He picks up Robert after work and asks, “Where are we going?”
“Baci. Make a right up here.” Robert gives directions the rest of the way, until Sean parks outside a building that looks almost like an old stone-walled church.
“Looks nice,” Sean says as they head inside.
“Messer, party of two,” Robert says to the hostess.
“It’s going to be about five minutes.”
They stand in the lobby; the seats are all taken. “So three months, huh?” Sean asks.
“You haven’t been paying attention.” It’s not a question, but it’s also not accusatory.
Sean shrugs. “I’ve been enjoying the ride. What can I say.”
“Yeah, three months.” Robert touches his hand, quick and light. “I’ve been enjoying it, too.”
They fall quiet while they wait to be called; when they are, they follow the hostess back and sit across from each other at a little table. Sean flips open his menu, scanning it. Assuming it lives up to the prices, the food should be good. “This place looks like an old church.”
“Probably because it is,” Robert says with a shrug. “A Quaker meetinghouse from the eighteen hundreds and then a Protestant church until the area turned too Catholic for it to be profitable.” At Sean’s inquisitive look, he shrugs again. “I’ve come here alone before.”
“So it’s good, huh?”
“Very. I especially like the pheasant papparedelle.”
Sean nods and keeps scanning the menu. Cacciucco looks especially good, as does pollo alla potentina. Either way, he’ll get a glass of white wine with it.
He ends up going with the cacciucco, and Robert gets the papparedelle he mentioned, and they end up ordering glasses of the same wine. When their waiter asks, “Would you like a bottle instead?” Sean shakes his head.
“We drove.”
Their waiter nods and vanishes. Robert says, “I have a question.”
Sean looks at him. “Yeah?”
Robert glances down at his lap, something Sean’s seen him do before when he’s getting up his nerve, and then back at him. “I’m in love with you.” That is not remotely what Sean could have expected. “And I’d like to be able to spend more time with you than a couple of nights a week, so I was wondering if you’d like to move in with me.”
Sean takes a drink of his water for lack of any words.
“You’ve been talking about moving out of your apartment,” Robert continues, and now he looks nervous. “There’s no point in putting down another deposit and living alone when we could live together.”
“First,” Sean says, “I love you too.” The words are more difficult to get out than they probably should be, but he hasn’t really been in love with anyone since the girl he dated his junior year of college, and he sure as hell hasn’t said it since then. “Second, I need to think about it.” Of all the questions Robert could ask, that’s not what Sean expected. Not that he knows what he did expect, but it wasn’t that.
“That’s fair,” Robert says. “Your lease isn’t up for a couple of months anyway, right?”
“Right, October. I was planning to move then.” Sean shakes his head, just once, to clear his thoughts. “I’ll think about it,” he reiterates.
“It’s an open offer.” Robert picks up his water just as the waiter comes by with their wine. “No deadline or anything. But I have plenty of room, and I was planning to replace the bed in the guest room at some point.”
“Your bed is more comfortable,” Sean muses. “I might move in just for that.” He smirks, and Robert smirks back.
“At least I’d be sharing it.”
“I’d say we could add another date night, but two’s probably my limit a week. Paperwork, meetings, other unexpected stuff, all that shit interrupts it.”
Robert nods. “I understand. It’s too bad you’re salaried. You could make excellent overtime otherwise.”
“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Sean mutters. “I’m still making more than I did when I was undercover, which is nice.”
Robert quirks a smile. “What, you’re telling me Frank Costello doesn’t pay generously?”
“Not exactly a perk of the position,” Sean says dryly. “I was a low pay grade, so to speak.”
“You haven’t told me much about that still.”
“It’s not exactly full of happy fucking memories, so I probably won’t tell you a lot more,” Sean says with a shrug. “Nothing against you, just not something that was a joy to do.”
Robert nods after a moment. “That’s fair. If you ever want to talk about it, though.”
“You’re making all kinds of offers tonight. I’ll end up taking advantage of you.”
He leers at Sean. “There’s another open offer.”
Sean laughs and sips his wine.
The cacciucco, when it comes, is as good as it sounded from the menu description. It probably helps that Boston has so fucking much fresh seafood available, but Sean can’t even identify all the seafood in it, just that it’s flavorful and the sauce is the perfect level of spicy.
Robert has two more glasses of wine than Sean does; Sean sticks to one. Robert isn’t remotely drunk, not even tipsy, when they leave, but he is looser, more relaxed about touching Sean’s shoulder, his back, his arm. Sean likes it. When it comes down to it, he just likes touching and being touched by Robert, something he wouldn’t have thought would happen three months and a day ago. He touches too, unnecessarily guiding Robert to his side of the car with a hand on his arm, and then gets in and starts the car. Robert trails his fingers up and down his arm as he drives, and Sean comments, “You’re touching more.”
“Should I not be?”
“No, it’s fine. You don’t usually.”
He glances over to see Robert staring ahead. “I didn’t know if you cared about the possibility of other cops seeing.”
“Fuck ‘em,” Sean says freely. “If they have a problem, they can say it to my face. I like you more than all of them combined, minus Queenan, anyway.”
He catches Robert’s wide smile from the corner of his eye. “I will keep that in mind.”
“That means we can kiss in public,” Sean adds.
“Glad to have that cleared up.”
Sean parks in front of Robert’s and glances over at him. “Want me to come in?”
“I need to repay you for dinner,” Robert says, flicking a glance over him, and Sean smirks.
“Taking that as a yes.”
He’s repaid with a blowjob; Robert breaks out the tricks he’s learned Sean likes, where to press his tongue and how hard to suck. That makes it unsurprisingly excellent. Once he catches his breath, he drops to his knees, puts a condom on Robert, and the one he gives, with everything he’s learned to do over the last three months, wrings moans and curses out of Robert. When he’s caught his breath again after Sean’s finished, he says, “You’ve gotten a lot better over the last three months.”
“I’ve gotten more practice than my previous none.”
Robert smirks. “Glad to be an exception, then.”
Sean doesn’t have a good answer for that, so he kisses him hard.
He only dresses to go home instead of staying over at Robert’s because he has to work in the morning, and it really would be easier if he just lived at the house. There are other arguments to be made, but he’ll think about it more later, maybe get Mrs. Queenan’s input next time he sees her.