It’s an off-duty shooting, something that no one expects to happen, least of all Greg.
You’d caught the bullet when you’d stepped out of the precinct, hurrying down the steps because you were running late to meet him at the observatory.
The stupid thing?
It wasn’t even meant for you; it was meant for the officer two steps behind you.
Greg remembers listening to the voicemail you’d left him that day. You’d been locking away your case files when you’d left it.
“Sorry Greg, I’m running late again. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Love you.”
He listens to that voicemail in the dead of night when he lies there in bed alone, staring at your pillow.
As he sits in the church, his gaze on the coffin in front of him, he recalls that morning. The sunlight playing across your bare skin as you made love to him for the last time. He remembers the way your fingertips traced over his scars, the noise that left your mouth when you hit that high. He relives every single one of those moments when he’s in the shower praying for a miracle.
When the curtain sweeps around the coffin, he feels the agony tearing in his chest because he knows what happens next. You’d made your wishes very clear when you’d talked about it one night.
Scatter me in the lake by the cabin, you’d told him.
His chest had gotten a little tight then because a lot of your special moments had happened up there. The first time he’d said I love you, the night he’d proposed.
I want to live in on those memories, you had explained.
Jay’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and he inhales, trying to stave off the stinging in his eyes. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry today, that he’d get through the funeral and grieve on his own terms.
A bottle of booze and a couple of pills to take the edge off. He’d slipped back into old habits since you’d been gone. He thinks about the gun in his nightstand, the one he’d bought from his dealer two days ago.
Tonight he’s going to do it, tonight he’s going to join you.
Hey, hey, hey. Have we considered……… Moustead + cockwarming?
take a break
Mouse could feel his teeth, and his eyelashes, and he could hear the fluorescent lights up above him. He wanted to cry by the end of the day of work, and he didn’t want anyone to look at him ever. On the ride home, he put on his headphones, with a calming sound of green noise playing, and ignored all the other passengers on the train with him. He couldn’t look at anyone, not without wanting to vomit if someone perceived him. He listened to his gentle noise and practiced his breathing, and he didn’t think about anyone or anything as much as he could.
The problem came when he got home and he had to do his laundry, and pay some bills, and make dinner, and – and – and -
It was a lot. Adulthood was a never-ending list of things that had to be done, ongoing and building even when one thing was finished, there were always things that needed to be tended to. He didn’t want to be an adult anymore, but being a child hadn’t been much better, not for him. He hadn’t had any agency, any say in his life, in who he hung out with, in what he studied, in what he wanted from the future. He didn’t even dress himself. His mother had controlled him in all facets of his life until he hadn’t even been sure who he was separate from her.
He still wasn’t sure who he was most days.
That day was one of them, and he just wanted his boyfriend.
Mouse: come over i need you
Jay: I'm at work for another hour can you wait or is this a now now thing
Mouse: now now
Jay: on my way
He puttered around his apartment, waiting for Jay to show up, picking up his living room coffee table and side tables, just out of nervous energy running manic inside of his mind. He just needed something to do until Jay was there.
He got so in his mind about where to put the books he’d taken out from the library that he couldn’t put anywhere else but they looked cluttered on his table and he couldn’t put them on his bookshelf if he wanted to ever return them, he didn’t even hear Jay enter until Jay’s hand touched him gently on the shoulder.
“Hey,” Jay said softly as Mouse jumped, ready to fight the intruder. “Just me, baby.”
“Oh, hey. Thanks for coming over.”
“Of course. What’s going on?”
“I feel bad,” he muttered.
“What kind of bad?”
“Brain buzzy,” he answered. “Brain - brain bad.”
“Okay, like, a nose dive into some mild queso dip brain bad or, like, a visit to the shadier side of Chicago for a different kind of treat brain bad?”
“Neither,” he answered honestly. “I can feel my arm hair kind of brain bad.”
“Okay, how can I help, then?”
Mouse hadn’t really thought that far ahead, but his mouth was moving before his brain could catch up.
“Can I warm your cock for a while?”
It wasn’t anything they hadn’t done before, but it had been a bit since Mouse had asked. It was always for him more than Jay, because there was something soothing about having his mouth filled without expectation, just keeping Jay’s cock warm inside of him.
“Yeah, baby, of course,” Jay said with a small smile. “Couch or bed?”
“Couch? We could watch a movie.”
“I love the sound of that. Do you have a preference?”
Jay took Mouse by the hand and guided him over to the couch, and had him get a blanket and set up the TV while Jay kicked off his boots and undid his jeans. He stripped off his jeans and left them, with his socks and boots, by the side table. There was still a mug from Mouse’s tea that morning, and Mouse reached for it to take it into the kitchen.
“No,” Jay said firmly enough that it dropped Mouse’s hand. “We’ll deal with that later. Sit down.”
It didn’t leave any room to argue without making Mouse feel boxed in, and Mouse sat down at the command.
“That’s better,” Jay said softly, and he sank onto the couch beside Mouse, settling back against the cushion. “Find something to watch?”
“Yeah, how do you feel about Iron Chef America?” Mouse asked.
“Whatever you need, baby,” Jay said, and he tugged the waistband of his boxers down so his cock was freed. He was soft, but Mouse didn’t need him aroused for this to help, since Jay was certainly more of a shower than a grower. Besides, even if he were hard when he slipped in, the lack of friction or stimulation would flag his erection anyway. “C’mere and keep my cock warm.”
Mouse let himself fall into Jay and cuddle into Jay’s lap, head back against his belly while he lounged. Jay took his cock in hand and rubbed the tip against his lips until Mouse let his mouth fall open, and Jay slipped inside. He let out a soft hum above Mouse, and ran his fingers softly through Mouse’s hair, gentle strokes with his fingernails whispered against his scalp. It was one of the few times that Mouse felt comfortable being touched without it being sexual, and Jay took advantage of that every time. He stroked patient hands over Mouse’s face and neck, rubbed his shoulders and arm, wherever he could touch him, and for once, it soothed him.
“Let it all go,” Jay murmured while he turned on the first season of Iron Chef America that was streaming.
Mouse let his body relax, focusing only on the feel of Jay’s cock between his lips, against his tongue, the silky-smooth skin with that Jay taste. He let the buzzing thoughts fade away as Alton Brown explained how Iron Chef had taken root in America and how they had their own Kitchen Stadium now. He couldn’t be stressed here, this is where he felt safest. All he could smell, and taste, and feel was Jay Halstead, his belly pillowing Mouse’s head and the waistband of his boxers tickling Mouse’s chin a little where he rested, cheek pressed between his hips.
“Mm, good boy,” Jay breathed.
Slipping would imply that he didn’t do it intentionally, but Mouse eased into a blissful state, some would call it a subspace, but he wasn’t submissive to Jay. They only did this when Mouse wanted it. It wasn’t a punishment, it wasn’t a reward, it was simply Mouse needing the intimacy that came along with the act. So, it wasn’t a subspace, but it was something that he could sink into, a place where he felt at ease, where he felt loved and cared for, where he didn’t have to worry about anything or anyone, just got to lay with his head in his boyfriend’s lap, cock cradled in his mouth, and didn’t have to think about the drugs he craved constantly or his ever-present aches or his shattered mirror confidence. He got to be nothing for once.
It was perfect.
It was all so perfect.
The brushing of fingernails against his scalp lulled him even further down, and he was so content to stay there. Two and a half episodes passed before Jay spoke up.
“Do you want to come up yet?”
Mouse blinked and glanced up at him, Jay still pleasantly soft in his mouth.
“It’s okay if the answer’s no, sweetheart. I’m in no rush.”
Mouse closed his eyes and rested his head back down, and Jay sighed a happy, fond sound, hand still making a slow, purposeful trek through his hair.
“That’s it, Mouse. Take a break. I’ll be here when you want to surface.”
what if you were GAY and a victim of the MILITARY INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX and a DRUG ADDICT and were in a situationship with a COP who was experiencing COMPHET with a LESBIAN so you RE ENLIST IN THE ARMY.
Mouse was an army ranger who was discharged and got a substance abuse issue from his time in the army. He was frequently abused by the team he joined and then canon decided to butcher him further by having him rejoin the military, the very thing that caused his initial addiction, and even acknowledged how bad of an idea it was, then sent him off anyway, and NEVER MENTIONED HIM AGAIN despite multiple opportunities and the fact that he supposedly was a main character's best friend.
It starts with a phone call in the middle of the night, Amelia panicking so much that Gregory can't understand her, at least until she says "Greg, I'm pregnant!" It's not his, he knows that because he's gay and she's gay and she has a wonderful girlfriend named Dinah that she loves, but some small part of him wants to ask if it is anyway. He slips out of the party he was planning on getting so high at that he forgot everything except the taste of some dude's mouth on his own, and he drives over to Amelia's place to talk her down.
She's pregnant, the test on her bathroom counter confirms it, and she doesn't know what to do, because she can't be pregnant, she and Dinah have been so careful with condoms and birth control, but there was that one time during Pride where they maybe hadn't been so careful, Dinah glowing from being around so many trans people just like her, and then, two months later, Amelia's pregnant.
"What's the plan?" he asks, sitting on the bathroom tile with her as she sniffles. "Do you need a ride to a clinic or to Babies R Us?"
"I want to keep it," she says, "but my parents will not accept that my trans girlfriend knocked me up, not if I want to keep my inheritance. They're okay with her being a woman, but not that she wasn't born a woman, so - I don't know what I'm going to do."
"Well, what if we said it was mine?" Gregory offers. They've joked for so long that they might as well just get married to each other to make it easier on their families. "We say that we've been dating quietly for a while, and we're expecting a child so we're going to get married. Our parents would die of happiness, we get them off our backs, we can have Dinah live with us, and we can have the family we've always wanted, where we get to choose our own happiness."
"Greg, that's -"
"Genius," he says.
"Insane is what I was going to say."
"Think about it, Ames. Our parents would be thrilled. We could get a house big enough for the four of us, Dinah could move in, and this kid would be so loved. So loved. They could be or do or love whoever they want, and they'd never have to grow up like we did, like Dinah did."
They announce their engagement and their wedding plans, a small ceremony hosted at the Sheffield's mansion with just their family and a few close friends, a few weeks later, before Amelia starts to show. They find a house that's suitable, and with both of their trust funds, it's the easiest choice they've ever made, and when their daughter is born, she is given the Gerwitz name.
Charlotte Frances Sheffield Gerwitz is born on a damp March afternoon, and she's perfect, with a full head of dusty brown hair and dark blue eyes, all ten toes and all ten fingers, and she is so loved, so so loved, by all three of her parents.
For @gregorygerwitz, while we were watching Gilmore Girls and playing with me in the "is there an au where..." space :)
Mouse knew he was gay first; sometime in high school, he realized that he's always been drawn to men, and it's difficult to grapple with at first. He doesn't believe it, especially with the way that his mother always spoke about the gays, but it's harder and harder to deny with the way his heart races and his pants get tighter when he sees a man with the perfect arms and toned stomach. He had come to terms with it and even accepted it, celebrated it, when he got blindsided with the gender crisis. Okay, so, he's not a man. That's -- well, that's something. It takes a little bit, but okay, that settles in his chest.
He's a little bit blindsided when he realizes that his aversion to commitment isn't just that. He's never wanted a romantic relationship, not because he's afraid of getting close to someone but because he has no attraction for people that way. His closest relationship is a platonic one, and that's okay with him. He likes hooking up with men for the night, and spending the day hanging with his friends. It makes sense when he finally has a word for it, a label to go with his collection. Aromantic. It slots the rest of his identity back into place, and he feels at peace for once in his life.
For @gregorygerwitz who said, and I quote, "our AU"
Since he was a child, Gregory has been raised to take over his father's position, not just at the company but also with their family business. It didn't matter that Gregory didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps and take over as the company's CEO, and certainly not as the head of the notorious Gerwitz family. He wanted to go to school and lose himself in technology, the one thing in his life that had always made sense. No matter what he tried to argue, his father didn't want to hear it. He had one path forward and it was the one that his parents had paved for him.
At least until Gregory makes the mistake of talking back, of questioning his father, of pushing against the life they'd built for him like a prison around him.
"I scheduled you a meeting with Gunther," his father said. "He'll remind you of our mission and our building blocks. I've coddled you too much. It's time for you to build a backbone."
His backbone is built with fists, apparently. Gunther was a big, hard man with a scar across one cheek and hammers for hands, and he didn't pull any punches. Gregory had never been taught to defend himself, never had to fight for his reputation, or his resources, or his opportunities.
When he escaped, it was barely with his life, managing to slip away from Gunther who thought he had blacked out from the assault. Gregory, a little bit, wished that he had, that Gunther had hit him hard enough to wipe away all the pain he'd been through so far, not just the hard hitting blows but the snipes from his mother and the sneers from his father, the things that even the pills couldn't take away. When he escaped, he found himself at a bar nearby, not controlled by his family, digging the pills out of his pocket to toss back with a gulp of beer.
There was a guy beside him, who touched his arm and spoke to him softly, and asked if he was okay. Greg didn't want to be touched, but the man was cute - no, the man was beautiful with grey-green eyes and a jaw that Greg wanted to trace with his tongue.
"You're bleeding," the man said, and Greg wanted to tell him to lick it off him. "I live upstairs if you want me to clean that up for you."
Greg would follow him anywhere. Somehow, Greg followed him upstairs, and the man introduced himself as Jay Halstead, and Greg told him everything, everything about his dad, and the organization, and the business as a front, things that he'd be killed for even saying out loud to someone inside the organization let alone outside of it. He wasn't sure why, but he felt safe here. He felt okay here, with Jay specifically, and he couldn't really place a finger on why that was, but his hands felt warm on his skin as he cleaned Greg's split lip and his bruised knuckles.
"I don't want to go home," Gregory said.
"Then don't," Jay replied. "Stay here with me."
Soft touches turned into soft kisses turned into followed Jay from the kitchen into his bedroom turned into Jay pressing him into the bedspread into Gregory gasping Jay's name as he fell apart in a safe space. They laid in bed after and Jay traced a bruise on his chest and ribs.
"I hope this doesn't change things for you, but you know that I'm a police officer, right?" Jay asked.
"No. I didn't. Are you going to arrest me?"
"No, no, I'm not going to arrest you, but I have to do something with the information you gave me, especially if your father is hurting people, putting drugs on the street."
"Do what you need to do, but I don't want to be involved."
In the morning, Gregory climbed out of bed aching and sore to find Jay starting a pot of coffee while on the phone. He knew it was coming, Jay sharing the information with someone, a supervisor or a superior officer, someone that Gregory didn't know and didn't trust. But somehow, somehow he did trust Jay. In the last twenty-four hours, he'd been belittled, hurt, betrayed, and beaten almost senseless. However, Jay had done nothing to hurt him. He'd cared for him, and pleasured him, and as he sat there, Jay pushed an extra cup of coffee in front of him without Greg needing to ask.
"Thank you, ma'am. I'll ask him but I can't guarantee he'll be up for it. What you're asking is -" Jay said, and Gregory sat forward.
"What do you need?"
"Get me inside, and I'll get the rest of what we need to take your father and the rest of his organization down so what happened to you last night will never happen again. So that you don't dread going home."
He didn't have to convince Gregory. He'd already proven himself with the touch of his fingers against his jaw as he swiped an alcohol pad over his scraped cheek, with the brush of lips against all the spots Gregory was battered like feathers against the aches, with the gentle press of his body all along Gregory's like a promise in the middle of the night that nothing could harm him when Jay was between him and the world. It seemed insane to feel like this for a man he barely knew, but in Gregory's life, he'd never seen someone so kind and he'd never been held like he mattered. He'd do anything for Jay, and if what Jay wanted was to rip apart the family business that Gregory had been molded to run someday, he'd do anything to destroy his family legacy for him.
"I'll do it."
