Ordinarily, when someone instructs him to ignore the mess, Orion at the very least expects an organized chaos, if not an outright display of clutter and discarded coffee cups or takeaway containers. What he sees upon stepping into the quaint beach house is... not that. Arceus. If he thinks this is mess... Orion makes a mental note to tidy up the ranch before ever letting his captain grace the home with his presence.

His thoughts soon graduate to other concerns, namely the spark of electricity that shivers up his arm when Tam takes him by the hand. His stomach swoops, butterflies furiously beating their wings as glances back at him. In spite of the nerves, he holds the sky blue gaze with his own. What effects the alcohol had have dulled in the walk between the bar and Tam's place, but he finds himself no less willing to follow as the captain draws him deeper into the house.

Anxiety needles in the back of his thoughts (what if he changes his mind?) but Orion does his best to ignore.

notes

Lips part easily to offer access, the graze of tongue and teeth a reassurance for his insecurities that words alone will never offer. He tilts his head up when Tam kisses his jaw, eyes fluttering closed.

Anxiety returns with skin-prickling insistence when the captain pauses, still so close that Orion can feel the feather-light touch of his lips. What's wrong? he wants to ask, but he's paralyzed in the moment. Blessedly, Tam doesn't make him wait long.

"Yes," he chokes out, whispered, but opens his eyes to meet that sky blue gaze with intensity. "Please."

He's so tired of feeling alone.

notes

Tam's smirk makes him shiver, not unpleasant.

Breath escapes him in a soft huff as he's pushed back against the wall. He doesn't question the proximity of the bedroom, of comfort — it's Tam's proximity that matters, Tam's hands roaming as they work him out of his uniform.

He's my boss is distantly registered as he shrugs the Ranger's jacket from around his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. His own touch is more hesitant as he reaches to unbutton the captain's shirt, the kiss of metal fingers no doubt cool against now-exposed skin. It's been so long, who cares? The lingering boldness of alcohol spurs him onward.

notes

Gloves brush soft against bare skin, the kiss of cool night air barely felt beyond a flush of heat that follows the path of Tam's searching fingers. Orion lets his own hands wander with more confidence, now, thumbs hooked through Tam's belt loops as he leans up to meet another kiss. Tam tastes like whiskey and cigarettes, an oasis in the desert of Orion's overbearing loneliness.

Yet the other man isn't simply any port in a storm; he's sweet, in spite of his aloof demeanour and the demanding way in which his hands seek to uncover the night's final mysteries.

Through a curtain of dark hair, Orion's emerald gaze searches for guidance, quietly inviting the more assertive Tam to take the lead.

notes

A soft gasp whispers past parted lips, head jerking back to thud against the wall. A burst of pain is overwhelmed by heat and pleasure, fingers curling against Tam's back as the captain marks him for his own.

Whatever he expects, it's not Tam on his knees, blue eyes full of a selfish hunger. Orion's flush spreads lower, lip caught between teeth as he bites back the sound that bubbles in his throat. Earlier concerns of the night vanish beneath careful ministrations, Orion's fingers finding purchase in the captain's soft locks. Whatever he wants is given freely, eagerly, for a simple chance to feel human again.

A name, whispered in reverence. "Tam."


Curled in the bed they would have one point sought, the warmth and comfort of another's steady breath nearby, the sun fails to wake Orion no matter how deeply it invades the room. So, too, do the sounds of the ocean and the distant cry of gulls go unnoticed in the depths of slumber.

It's something cold and damp against his foot that rouses him, the ranger coming to consciousness with an awareness of pain in his shoulder. Wincing, he rubs at the ache. You weren't supposed to sleep with prosthetics, but his mind had been wholly occupied the night before. He opens his eyes, squinting in the sun, to an unfamiliar room.

Panic, illogical and sudden, makes him bolt up in a bed that is not his own.

Oh. It takes only a few seconds to orient himself, to remember. This was no dungeon of torture. This was a house. A house belonging to his boss, Tam Fawley. With whom he'd just spent the night.

"Sorry." His voice is hoarse as he feels the bed shift, glances over at Tam. "Did I wake you up?"

The culprit for his own rude awakening appears to be a strange Zorua.

notes

Orion bites his tongue around the urge to apologize again as Tam gets up to stretch. Heat warms Orion's cheeks at the sight of the other, still unclothed, and he glances away with a sudden shyness.

Tam wasn't talking much. He never talks much.

Perhaps he was having regrets? It was a one-night stand. People have those. Don't make it weird.

A quick glance around the room reveals none of his own clothes. Ah, right. They hadn't made it to the bedroom. Tam's impatience didn't bother him, though it did reinforce a certain assumption: It's not a big deal. Don't make it into one.

He'd fucked his boss. So what, right? No one was going to know. They're definitely going to know.

"Coffee," he echoes, as the offer drags him out of an anxiety spiral. "Yeah, coffee sounds great right now."

He's exhausted. He's not a morning person. He's also not a confident person, and so the short walk from the bed to the hallway where he'd shed his uniform feels a mile long. Still, he feels a little better once he's got some pants on, even if the struggle with his shirt around the metal limb is awkward and uncomfortable around someone new. He's used to dressing in the privacy of the ranch, where no one can see him fumble at buttons and belt loops for minutes on end.

notes

Orion shouldn't expect Tam Fawley to have magically acquired more clothing in the short journey from bedroom to kitchen, yet somehow the fact that the captain is still clad only in undergarments manages to catch him off guard.

Orion watches as Tam busies himself with the stove, noting scars he'd missed in last night's whirlwind. Tam pushed himself harder than he pushed the rest of them; he was a good captain, regardless of whether he'd coveted the role. Jobs like those are always better done by people who hate them. He'd been right about that.

"Hah. Cute mug."

He wraps his hands around the P.O.G Bank mug, feeling comforted by the sensation of heat beneath titanium fingers.

"Didn't know you could cook."

A catch, really. Arceus only knew why Tam had been interested in Orion; the self-conscious ranger chalks it up to stress and alcohol.