#rosselijah

[mcdeforyou]

[ STEADY ]:     sender gently catches and guides the emotionally distressed receiver against a wall in order to physically steady them.

difficult cases never got easier. as a police officer, you just learned to compartmentalise better. after many years on the job, chloe liked to think she had gotten pretty good at compartmentalising, but that didn’t mean that the odd case didn’t still get to her. 

she hadn’t realised when they’d gotten the call, the address hadn’t stood out to her. it had just been another job, but it wasn’t until she’d pulled up in her cruiser that she realised exactly where the body had been called in. 

compartmentalise.

detective ross was already on the scene, the body that had turned up had been a missing person, so she supposed he had to wrap up his case so homicide could take over. several other officers were spread around the area, and if anyone of them had inkling of where they were, they hadn’t mentioned it to chloe as she walked towards the scene. 

compartmentalise.

“what have we got?” chloe asked the uniformed officers stood over the body. she flashed detective ross a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, before clearing her throat. 

of all the places, in all of los angeles, why did it have to be here? she could never forget the last time she was here, the scent of blood thick in the air. 

compartmentalise. compartmentalise. compartmentalise.

she doesn’t realise she’s being spoken to, the buzzing in her ears is drowning out the noise around her. she’s trying. to push it to the side, to just do her job, but she can’t breathe. she can’t-- she can’t be here.

a solid wall appears behind her, and she realises a few seconds later that detective ross’ arms around braced against her shoulders, holding her up against the bricks. a few of the officers are looking at her oddly, a few others looking away as if they’ve just realised it what this place means. 

“i’m sorry-- i’m sorry. i was ” she gasps, closing her eyes against the memories for a moment. “this is--” this was where the worst thing that ever happened to chloe, happened. this is where her family was torn apart. 

“this is where dan died.”

[sinnermantm]

you’re laughing. elijah ross is going to be boyfriends with an immortal crime lord and you’re fucking laughing. unbelievable. 

[sinnermantm]

❛ hey, uh. i ... i brought you some coffee. you look like you could use it. ❜

there is no shortage of work that can be found when it comes to this job   —   and that is exactly why cain has stuck to it for so long. the paperwork is endless; there’s always something that requires his attention. busy. if he wants, he can always end up busy. it helps pass the time that he’s trapped with. it helps keep his mind off of certain things, keeps darkness from flooding his every thought. cases have become more and more tedious over time   —   laws have changed, most of them for the better, but every once in a while cain can’t help but feel like humans are trying to take a few steps backward, like they are trying to make things all kinds of difficult just for the sake of doing so. he spends most of the morning tied up in court. cold. precise. specific. his time on the stand is always quick, to the point. people find him intimidating and things fall into place easily enough   —   another day, another run-around, another attempt at putting those guilty of his own sins behind bars. marcus pierce is well known and respected and there is nothing for the defense to try and sink their teeth into. today’s lawyer is new. fresh. a little nervous, despite having the education necessary to pass the bar. cain doesn’t go easy when questions come. there’s something of a reputation for that, now   —   for snapping at the dumber questions, for being short when he can. details are given. his officers are protected. the case gets one day closer to being done and the day itself moves on. that means returning to the precinct. and that means avoiding one detective elijah ross, at all costs. to his credit, he’s done very well so far. kept himself from reaching out. from trying. from doing anything too foolish. hazel eyes keep haunting him, but they are a ghost he’s well-acquainted with. sometimes he goes out of his way to glance into his office. sometimes he makes a point of looking for his files first in the piles on his desk. sometimes he stops to listen when he hears him chatting with one of the other detectives. deja vu. it hits him every single time and it’s never kind. it’s been a few hundred years. it’s been so long and yet cain’s heart falls into its old patterns   —   its old habits. elijah. that’s his name, this time. a new name. a new face. but it’s the same soul. cain knows this; he’s always known this, whenever they manage to cross paths. there have been times before, times where cain has done everything in his power to run from fate   —   to avoid the pain of losing this soul before it makes a new round again, but he’s found that the harder he fights, the worse things manage to turn out. god has his plans and elijah ross is one of them   —   a cruel joke, a punchline that cain is always the target of. over and over again. they do this. inevitable. his heart is too soft, even after all this time. his own soul begs. it nears elijah’s and it’s like hearing the notes of a favorite, forgotten song. it all comes back in a rush and cain feels foolish to love so easily, every single time. so many lives. so many deaths. cain thinks he’s changed until he finds himself staring into hazel eyes. until there’s a coffee on his desk and his mind is blanking.

“is there sugar in that?” it comes instead of a ‘thank you’    —   a bit accusatory. a bit of a bite. being unkind won’t help his case and he knows it; in the instances where he has tried to prevent them from circling each other in the past it’s only made him all the more miserable until he’s able to try again. it’s better to let it run it’s course. sometimes? things don’t even end up going the way his heart aches for. sometimes he’s only a small part of this soul’s life. he doesn’t know if that’s better    —   doesn’t know if that’s easier. he just knows he’s missed this. the slight smile comes, a little rare around the precinct itself. “i’m testing you. should there be sugar in that?”

[hellshoundtm]

❛ did you try to pet saturn again? ❜ he's trying not to smile. ❛ she's never gonna like you if you keep pushing her. ❜

he’s coming out of the kitchen after washing a fresh scratch in the sink   —   fingers against his mouth out of instinct to try and get them to stop stinging. oh, he’s wearing a defeated look, for sure; elijah knows what he’s been up to and is amused by the results despite it being nothing new. this is the fifth time he’s tried with her. it always starts the same, always starts with eye-contact that draws him in. the first time, he foolishly went straight for it. but he’s learned to approach her slowly since then. not that it matters. it’s always the same. no matter what he does, she swipes at him. at first he thinks it’s for obvious reasons   —   he thinks it’s because of the cliche cat vs. dog dynamic but then venus warms up to him so easily and he gets it in his head that it’s somehow personal. that saturn, in her little kitty wisdom, has decided that he is not worthy of her affections. and that drives him a little wild. maybe it’s the dumb dog in him that makes him continue trying to make this friendship blossom, but he can’t seem to stop. he’s determined, now   —   even with fresh wounds, even with another battle lost.

“i didn’t push.” there’s a slight huff and something like a pout on his features. “i asked her very nicely if i could touch her sweet little head and she gave no indication that she was gonna turn on me ‘till it was too late. she tricked me. made a damn fool outta me. i’ll fall for it again, m’sure.” wounded, he finds comfort in petting venus with his other hand, instead. it’s a tender moment, one that ends in his bumping heads with her in a language they seem to understand well. “she’s just tricky.” he decides, glancing over. “reminds me of someone, actually.”

[hellshoundtm]

@rosselijah​ hit the ♡ and my hand slipped a little but you started it.

behavior has never been one of the hound’s stronger suits   ---   he manages to sniff out trouble constantly at the precinct as it is; occasionally flirting to get information or finding little distractions in the form of other people’s lunches. generally liked, there is an energy about him that most find endearing to an extent and the fact that he’s been so helpful on cases aids in keeping those around him rather fond. he and ross are gaining a reputation in california. it’s been exiting. it’s kept them busy   ---   what with other precincts sometimes calling to ask for their aid, and sometimes the extra workload puts a tension in elijah’s shoulders that ramsey makes a point to chase down and undo.  it happens, today   ---   when they end up way too close in room where much of the evidence is held, boxes towering but completely forgotten when he gets his mouth on his partner’s neck. his name is perfect as it falls from elijah’s mouth   ---   as the other man tries to warn him in ways he’s done before. shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t. the word makes ramsey grin, teeth sharp against skin he wants to mark so badly. to his credit? he’s done well to keep their relationship quiet around the rest of the precinct. little comments, here. longing stares, there. but hands are kept to himself until the moments they aren’t   ---   until he caves and goes a little wild.

“i hear yah, i hear yah.” his voice is low under an ear where skin is turning red, agitated by the heat from his mouth alone. “y’don’t want me to fuck yah in the evidence closet. y’don’t want my fingers in yah. y’don’t wanna get off. y’ain’t wet for me   ---   ain’t squirmin’ or thinkin’ about it. ain’t slowly givin’ in. y’just wanna go back t’work. my mistake.” but he’s still kissing skin, hand on that hip moving to give the other’s belt a little tug. “go getcher box, then. walk away from me.”

[mcdeforyou]

for @rosselijah​, continued from here 

chloe liked to pride herself on the fact that she tried to get to know everyone in the precinct, from the higher ranks detectives, to the uniformed beat officers. she never wanted to be in the position of being called out on someone’s name and having absolutely no idea. she knew certain people more than others. one of those being detective ross. their paths crossed often. missing person cases often turned into homicide cases, and similarly what they sometimes thought was a murder, ended up being a missings person case instead. 

“oh, i was just coming to check on you. you do know you have a desk, right?” she asked with a small lopsided smirk. it wasn’t often she saw a detective just sitting on the floor of the bullpen, but she supposed everyone had their way of working, and she wasn’t one to judge. “long day?”