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[attr="class","body"] He wasn't jealous.

[break][break] It had nothing to do with the fact that he'd seen the way that woman's face has lit up at whatever comment that Caleb had made. He told himself that it didn't matter if Caleb was joking, or flirting, or whatever it was. Ollie knew that he was important to Caleb, and it wasn't like Ollie himself didn't engage in bouts of harmless flirting every now and then, especially when it made his work easier.

[break][break] He told himself that it had nothing to do with any of that — that he wasn't mad or upset or emotional. He had been planning to talk to Caleb anyways, after all, especially since annalise henderson and Greyson Connors both had expressed their concerns to him. The latter, of course, more than the former considering how his childhood friend had just showed up at the Elite Four's house.

[break][break] The door shut behind Caleb with a silent click, but it may have been as loud as thunder, for the tension that suddenly filled the room.

[break][break] "You tell me, Caleb," Ollie snapped, slapping the folder down onto a nearby table. "Why is Greyson Connors coming to my office, telling me that you ambushed him at his house?"

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[attr="class","body"] "Wait. You asked for his address?"

[break][break] "From Freya?"

[break][break] Goddamn it. This was worse than he thought.

[break][break] Then you know he's not okay, right?

[break][break] Something snapped.

[break][break] "It doesn't matter! That's not your job, Caleb! You don't have the right - " He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. Ollie shakes his head. He thought that Caleb had just chanced upon Greyson Connors's house. He'd hoped, maybe, that it was a decision done in impulse — not in earnest.

[break][break] Ollie cared about Greyson Connors too — they were friends. But he didn't care about Greyson as much as he cared about Caleb. He didn't care how Greyson felt about annalise henderson breaking up with him, not in this moment.

[break][break] He cared about Caleb. And if Caleb thought this was right, then Caleb wasn't okay.

[break][break] "Fuck, Caleb, what were you thinking?"

[break][break] "You can't just do things because you want to — you might as well have broken sanctions with how furious he is. He's a guy who already hates Rockets because of what happened to his girlfriend, because of who he is. You know how hard I've been fighting to find supporters for the Amnesty Program, and now you've brought us back to square one."

[break][break] Silence echoed in the room as Ollie paced by the table. It felt like all the work that they'd done together in the past several weeks crumbled into ash. Caleb was lucky that Greyson hadn't gone straight to dahlia goode to tell him what he'd done.

[break][break] Caleb was lucky because Ollie had protected him.

[break][break] "You shouldn't have gone to his house, Caleb. "

[break][break] Running a hand through his hair again, he sighed.

[break][break] "I'm going to have to punish you."

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[attr="class","body"] 'What the fuck is the point of the Amnesty Program —'

[break][break] Was he seriously asking that? Was he seriously asking that?

[break][break] "Caleb," he snapped. "You can't be that naive. I know you aren't."

[break][break] "We're Rangers. We aren't psych counselors or whatever the hell you think the Amnesty Program is about — and besides, Greyson's not even a Rocket - "

[break][break] The Amnesty Program wasn't just about doing a good deed. The Amnesty Program wasn't just about helping people. It was - as Gunner Graves had once said to him - a much more complicated matter than even individuals like he or Caleb Harcourt could even bear to burden, no matter how much they wanted to. And even when they wanted to - desperately so, even -

[break][break] "There are protocols to follow! Rules! Jesus Christ, Caleb, you can't just do whatever the fuck you want just because you want to do it!"

[break][break] And how ironic that Ollie was the one lecturing him on this now, when just a few months ago, their situations would've been swapped. Ollie had been the naïve one. Ollie had been the blind one.

[break][break] It hadn't been that long ago that Ollie had faithfully believed in people just because it was the right thing to do, wasn't that long ago that he'd led an expedition to look for annalise henderson, because he couldn't bear the thought of losing her.

[break][break] They're both shouting now. It didn't matter who heard. Glowering at him from across the room, Ollie glared at the man that he'd once called his best friend, unable to believe the sheer incredulousness - the selfishness - of his actions.

[break][break] Didn't he understand that the only reason that Ollie was yelling at him was to protect him?

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Ollie isn't sure who's the one to move first. Maybe they both move together, pulled by the same heat and frustration and anger that undeniable floods through him. Years and years of pent-up emotions that have no choice but to spill out.

[break][break] The eye-contact that he makes with Caleb Harcourt is electric, in the worst possible way, as he met the other's challenging glare with his own. A hand impulsively reached between them, tangling in the front of the other's shirt, dragging Caleb up so that their lips brushed, breathing labored above his.

[break][break] Almost.

[break][break] "You told me that you wanted to be a Head Ranger," he growled. "Is this the way that you think a Head Ranger behaves?"

[break][break] And with that, with no remorse at all for whoever could've been watching, Ollie crashed their mouths together.

[break][break] He kissed Caleb Harcourt with all the ferocity that words couldn't properly convey, all the weeks of stress and frustration and annoyance that had been building and building. Half of it may not even had anything to do with Caleb — months of being stressed about the Amnesty Program itself, his new ascension to Head Ranger, the countless tasks that came upon his desk with no end in sight. It was above his paygrade, like Gunner said, and Ollie hated it. He hated exactly how little was in his control and how little he could do about it. He hated himself for wanting more. He hated himself for wanting Caleb, even, when the other man drove his mad.

[break][break] Hands ripped at the buttons on the Elite Ranger's shirt, dragging his hands down hard abs, as he shoved the other man against the table, sweeping away at whatever stupid papers were on his desk as a knee forced it's way between his legs. His tongue pressed demanding and insistent against the other's lips until he would grant him access — this kiss was punishing in it's abuse, nothing like the sweet, warm kisses of affection and kinship that they'd always shared in the past.

[break][break] Teeth sank down onto the other's bottom lip hard enough to bleed, pulling back as he licked the iron taste of the other's blood on his lips.

[break][break] "Caleb," he said, his voice rough with desire. "Turn around."

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