Archive of Our Own

It was late in the evening when they got back from finishing up a job. It had been frustrating and seriously getting under March’s skin, which impaired his ability to work more than his usual foolishness. His partner’s spiraling was a distraction to Healy, but one of them had to keep a clear head and, as always, that task fell unto him.

March had gotten better at self regulation, really. With the months passing since the events that took place and the beginning of the two of them working together, the bottle wasn’t as prominent as it used to be for March. March’s loved ones noticed that and the man's other efforts. Neither of them talked about it to him or to each other, afraid of spooking him and reverting the progress. But Holly and Healy shared knowing looks and small smiles.

Still, this type of stuff isn’t linear. March is always going to be the loud mess of a man he is, no matter what. Today, he had been a big mess. Even March himself knew it. So unprofessional. A disaster. 

So when they arrived home, March immediately shucked off his jacket, having it fall behind on Healy’s shoes, who followed in after him. Healy, instead of starting something, steadied his breathing before bending down and picking up the jacket.  

When Healy looked up and saw where his partner was heading, he quickly whistled and snapped his fingers.

“Ah-ah.”

March stopped in his tracks, one hand already on the fridge, and looked back at Healy. When Healy tilted his head in warning, March rolled his eyes.

“I’m just getting lemonade, dude. Relax.”

March replied defensively, but there was no real bite to it, as he knew Healy was just looking out for him. Still, it’s annoying. He’s a grown man. Drinking alcohol in moderation after being dependent on it for so long is no biggie at all. He mumbled something under his breath as he actually got the bottle out and shut the fridge door.

Healy dusted off March’s jacket and hung it up before walking over and flopping down onto the couch, sighing in relief at the comfy feel of it as he outstretched and rested his arms.

“The day’s done, March,” he cracked his neck and shut his eyes, “Leave what happened today outside by the door,” Healy tried to comfort instead of lecture, as March was already really pissy. 

In response, March made an odd, sad, high-pitched sound followed by silence.

Healy assumed March was shutting himself up by drinking the lemonade, so as to not sound any more nonsense.

Healy opened his left eye to peek at March. March was now pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, eyes squeezed shut, and tightly gripping the lemonade bottle with his other hand. Healy then opened the other eye and cocked his head while looking at the younger man. Whether it was in pity, frustration or affection, he wasn’t sure. Healy didn’t dig for an answer.

Jackson Healy cares for his partner, as much of an annoying idiot he may be, in ways he didn’t think he really could anymore since his own heartbreak. What they have together is good, it works. They don’t have a word for it yet, but in any case, March’s more prone to feeling sleepy and able to be out like a light when around Healy, and that’s without the alcohol. And sometimes Healy finds himself subconsciously using cologne and smelling his breath before meeting up with March.

Which makes him feel real stupid, when he remembers the guy has no sense of smell.

His daughter does, though, and the times when it happens and she’s around to notice, she always has something silly to say in an effort to tease Healy. She’s always smug for the remainder of the day, but giggly and happy, and that’s what sticks with him.

That reminds Healy: “Where’s Holly?” He asks, throwing a glance toward her room. With the stress of the day, he can’t remember if she told him anything or not about her plans.

“Sleepover,” March, now resting his head in his hands on the kitchen counter to which he was sliding down closer to, replied in a monotone voice.

Healy nods, thinking as he stares at the floor. When he looks back at March, the front of his face is almost fully on the kitchen counter, save for his hands he’s resting his forehead on instead of the hard, cold surface.

They both need a way to unwind, that much is clear. As annoyed as Healy is with March for everything that happened today, he’s not all to blame. It’s his fault for believing March when he said, “I’ve got it under control. I know what I’m doing,” Evidently, he did not, and things only got back on track when Healy stepped in.

This is a partnership they’ve got going on, yet March carried too much on his shoulders today, forgetting that for what he lacks, Healy’s there to more than make up for. He could chastise March, he sure wants to, but they’d get nowhere.

No, Healy knows how to get what he wants, and give Holland March what he deserves.

“March,” he spoke in a loud enough voice to startle March back into shooting almost upright.

With a jerk of his head, and the usual gruff in his voice when he spoke lower than usual, Healy instructed March, “C’mere.”

March blinked a few times and sniffed. He didn’t take his eyes off ‌Healy as he took another drink from the glass bottle. When March put the bottle on the counter, Healy instructed the message again, this time with one of his fingers. March turned his lips into a thin line and slapped the sides of his thighs before starting to move around the corner-

“On your hands and knees.”

Said Healy, voice low. March froze, taken aback, and stared blankly at Healy, whose eyes were dark, face unreadable. After a few seconds, Healy raised his eyebrows, expectant.

March blinked a few more times before licking his lips as he looked down and slowly lowered himself onto the floor. When March looked back up, he could see Healy now smiling softly, and though barely audible, heard him say “good”.

March felt a thrill run up his spine, and he had to look back down at the floor, his hands briefly gripping ‌the tile. He could feel Healy’s eyes on him, observing him, waiting patiently.

While looking down, March noticed how his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt hung lower towards the floor and exposed more of his chest, giving Healy a pleasant view from where he sat. The thought made March bite his lip and smirk the tiniest bit. Yeah, after today some fun is in order for both of them, March can work with this.

Healy’s voice sounded again in the quiet household, this time more gently, “Come here, sweetheart.”

March looked back up at him, batting his eyelashes for a second before taking his time crawling on the floor over towards where Healy sat on the couch.

It was obvious he was trying to make it look sexy. Resembling a whore from a cheap, badly acted-out porno.

Fortunately for March, Healy did find it sexy, as he also found the effort to be endearing.

March kept eye contact, enjoying watching Healy’s eyes dart around his body.

“There you go,” Healy whispered when March got close enough. “Now take your shirt off.”

March sat back on his heels and made a show of unbuttoning the top. When finished, he discarded it to the side and placed his palms behind him to lean back comfortably, at the same time showing himself off.

He inhaled deeply as he watched Healy sit up from the back of the couch, manspread and rest his elbows on his knees, letting his hands hang in the air between his legs. He was much closer to March now, but didn’t make any moves to touch him yet, just took him in with his eyes some more.

“Pretty little thing, aren’t ya?” Healy’s eyes gazed over March’s neck, collarbones, nipples, stomach, and the light trail of hair leading into his pants.

March scoffed but then swallowed, a light blush starting to creep on his cheeks. A part of him believed he should take that as an insult, yet he could feel himself getting harder by the second. Healy was still fully dressed, and yet here March was, on his knees before him, shirtless.

His heart raced as one of Healy’s hands reached out and grabbed his chin, gently angling it up. March stared at him, confident, daring.

The soft pad of Healy’s thumb brushed over March’s lips. He traced the edges lightly before adding pressure and pushing, pressing, feeling the give of them. 

“Open,” Healy said, voice low, and then angled his thumb, pressing it against March’s bottom teeth before pushing his jaw down. March didn’t resist at all, just let his mouth fall open and a soft sigh escaped him.

March kept his tongue far back in his mouth while Healy ran the pad of his thumb along the sharp edges of his teeth. “Doesn’t it feel nice? Listening to me?” Healy asked, and withdrew his thumb, “Stick out your tongue.”

March, keeping his mouth open, stuck out his tongue. Healy hummed, approving.

“Good. Like that,” Healy praised, at that March made a small noise in the back of his throat, which made Healy raise his eyebrows, “What’d I say? Feels nice.” Healy placed his thumb on the tip of the tongue and rubbed it gently across the saliva that had collected on it.

Slowly, Healy applied more pressure and slid the thumb back and forth, deeper each time. March’s cock twitched and his eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the weight on his tongue. 

After Healy’s thumb was coated nicely enough, he took it out of his mouth and pressed it back against March’s lips. He traced them as he did before, this time smearing the spit across them, making them shine.

“Look at you,” Healy said, admiring his work. Thumb on his chin and forefinger under it, he turned March’s face to the left, the right, then lifted it up so March’d be looking up at him. “My pretty boy,” Healy whispered, shifting his hand to hold one side of March’s face more firmly.

An involuntary whimper came from March’s lips at Healy’s words and he shut his eyes again, leaning into Healy’s touch, his mouth still hung open as the older man left it.

“Fuck— Healy,” March whispered, and Healy nodded, understanding, as he swiped his thumb across March’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Healy assured him. “That’s what you need, hm?” He shook March’s face. “To be taken care of?”

March just breathed for a moment, then nodded his head.

“Come on, March. You can say it,” Healy pushed. March opened his eyes and just stared. He was hesitating, he licked his lips and kept opening his mouth, but nothing would come out. His cheeks felt hot.

Healy exhaled through his nose and took his hand away from March’s face. March had followed his hand, now with it gone, he really missed its warmth.

“What? You talked and complained everybody’s ear off today, and now you’ve got nothing?”

“Shit— okay— just. Take care of me,” March blurted out. His eyes glanced back-and-forth Healy’s and the hand he had just withdrawn. After a moment of thought, March grabbed it and put it back on his cheek where it had been just a moment ago. He sighed and leaned into it, keeping his hand on top of Healy’s to hold it in place. Healy, amused, just watched as March rubbed his face against his palm like a cat. 

March planted a kiss into the palm and two more leading up his thumb. “Please take care of me,” he whispered into Healy’s palm, barely audible.

When March opened his eyes and looked at Healy, he couldn’t read his expression. March’s face burned, he had to look away. He thought about how pathetic he must look and how embarrassing this really is. The thought just turned him on more.

Healy just stared down at him, impassive, for a few more seconds before taking a deep breath and smiling lightly. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Healy asked. March shook his head.

Healy slid the hand from March’s cheek down his neck, and then past his ear to the back of his neck, getting a firm grip. March’s hand that had been holding Healy’s came to rest on his thigh.

Healy leaned down slightly and searched for March’s eyes until they kept eye contact again.

“See how good you can be?” Healy asked, voice raspy, and March shuddered, a weak sound escaping the back of his throat. While March sat with the words, he suddenly yelped and curled forward, bracing a hand on Healy’s right knee, as he felt the tip of Healy’s shoe press on his crotch.

It didn’t hurt, but the pressure was just enough to give March some relief through the pant material. “Fuh—ck,” March gasped and dug his nails into Healy’s knee. Healy rubbed the back of March’s neck soothingly. He leaned in close to March’s left ear.

“Go ahead and get yourself off,” Healy whispered and was rewarded with the sight of March shivering, bending his head down further, a small whine leaving him. Healy let go of him and leaned back against the couch, one hand resting atop it as the other rested on his thigh.

March scooted closer to Healy’s leg and wrapped his arms around the area underneath the knee, hugging it as he positioned himself. March rested his head against the knee and glanced up at the older man for a moment. Healy was watching him with dark eyes, the hand on his thigh sliding slowly upwards to his erection, cupping it briefly before sliding back down. March’s cock twitched at the sight.

He held onto Healy’s leg tighter and shut his eyes before rolling his hips. He continued rolling them, whimpering, as he looked for a good angle for more relief.

“Imagine if any of our clients, or your cop friend, saw you like this,” Healy voiced, some jealousy there at the mention of the cop friend, and March whined in response. “Humping my leg like a pup,” Healy added, and a moan ripped itself out of March’s lungs, his hips stuttering. The embarrassment coiling in his stomach was only spurring him on.

March let out another moan when it seemed he had found a good angle and dug his fingernails into Healy’s skin through his jeans. He started rolling his hips in a rhythm, his breathing starting to quicken with the effort he was putting in.

“Really, you should see yourself like this, March,” Healy continued talking, seeing as how it was definitely working for the other man. “How’s me fucking you in front of a mirror sound?” Healy smiled, letting out a low chuckle as he was immediately met with a needy, high-pitched moan from March.

After a few minutes passed, March’s thrusts were turning sloppy, getting slower. “Healy—” He panted and let out a weak, frustrated sound. “It’s not— It’s not enough,” he muttered and shakily inhaled a breath.

“What’s not enough?” Healy simply asked, indifferent. March whined, still rolling his hips. When he looked up at Healy, March’s eyes were glossy, his eyebrows furrowed. At the sight, Healy’s hand on his thigh clenched into a fist and he took a deep breath through his nose.

“I can’t—” March tried to speak, then shook his head. When he squeezed his eyes shut, a glistening tear rolled out of the corner of his eye. “Fuck!” he cursed, his hips stilling entirely.

“Look at me,” Healy said, voice cold. March lifted his head again, pressing it to the side of Healy’s knee as he hugged the leg. They just stared at one another, breathing, before Healy spoke again, “You need me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

March swallowed, mouth dry. He nodded.

Healy tilted his head, pouting slightly. “Oh, poor thing,” he voiced in mock sympathy. March only whimpered quietly. Healy scratched his chin. “Can you stand for me?” March unwrapped his arms from Healy’s leg, placed a hand on his knee and pushed himself up, legs slightly wobbly. “Good,” Healy commented.

He nudged his chin at March’s pants, “Let’s get those off you, baby.”

Healy reached forward and pulled March closer by his hips, slotting him between his thighs. March stared down at Healy, lips parted. He watched as Healy made quick work with the button and fly. Healy then patted his thigh, ‘step out of them’.

March did exactly that, pulled the pants off all the way and kicked them to the side. While at it, he stepped out of his shoes. March’s face flushed harder. Healy, still, was fully dressed.

March was almost nude, except for his boxers, which had an obvious wet spot on them from pre-cum. He wanted to cover his face, but his hands remained fidgeting at his sides instead. Healy just took him in, enjoying the sight before him.

He squinted for a moment, looking at the boxers. They were the cute white ones with the argyle pattern. Healy recognized them from the day in the bowling alley’s bathroom, when March tried, and failed horribly to threaten him with a gun.

Healy placed his hands back on March’s hips and squeezed, slowly sliding them down to his thighs, which he also squeezed and rubbed soothingly. They were so soft, begging to be covered in hickeys and bite marks, Healy thought to himself.

He looked up at March and now nudged his chin down towards his own lap. “Take a seat.”

March slowly settled on Healy’s lap, his thighs on either side of him, hands holding onto the older man’s wide shoulders. When he lowered his weight properly onto him, Healy’s erection could be felt pressing up against him. Fuck, he was big. March swallowed thickly.

Healy’s hands settled back on March’s hips. March was looking away from Healy, somewhere off to the side. Healy lifted one hand from March’s hips and used it to grip his jaw and make March look at him.

“You tried so hard, did such a good job,” Healy told him, voice gentle, his hand on March’s hip squeezing gently. The hand gripping his jaw relaxed and slid to cup the side of his face. “Now let me make it all better, hm?” Healy said as he traced the line of a dried tear with his thumb, “Take care of you like I said.”

March nodded, he was needier than even he expected. Their lips met, and March wasted no time melting into the kiss, letting out a soft moan. Healy’s stubble scratched against him in a satisfying way. The kisses were slow but passionate, deep. He felt Healy lick his bottom lip and the next time they kissed, March opened his mouth wider, and Healy licked inside. Their tongues swept against each other, circled one another, all while March continued to be his vocal self, moaning softly. Healy happily swallowed those desperate sounds.

Healy turned his head to kiss him even deeper, hungrily exploring March’s mouth. He still kept one hand on March’s face, keeping him in place, while the other squeezed his hip again and pushed March down while Healy thrusted up. At the contact, March immediately moaned loud and shamelessly into Healy’s mouth and gripped his shoulders. Healy grunted.

March pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes, staring half-lidded at Healy while panting. Healy opened his and stared back, raising his eyebrows playfully. “Feel what you do to me?” Healy asked, voice low. March shuddered, “Shit, Healy—” he whispered in response and let his head fall forward onto Healy’s shoulder, near the crook of his neck.

Healy’s hand that had been holding March’s face came back to rest on his hip. “This is all you, baby,” to emphasize what he said, Healy gripped March’s hips and thrusted upwards into him. March whined and thrust down to meet him, creating a rhythm between the two of them.

They spent a few minutes like that, breathing heavily and thrusting up and down into one another. Healy’s fingers were starting to plant bruises on March’s hips, a pleasant surprise they’ll both discover in the morning. When Healy placed kisses on March’s collarbone, the younger man threw his head back to present his neck, giving more access.

It felt good, everything felt so good that March could feel tears pricking his eyes again. He gasped and hissed through his teeth when he felt Healy harshly bite his collarbone. To ease the pain, Healy licked over the teeth marks he had just left in March’s skin and kissed the area.

March’s fingers tangled themselves in Healy’s hair and tugged, making Healy groan and thrust up into March with more force. Healy continued to plant kisses wherever he could reach.

March was starting to get tired again, evident by the rolls of his hips, also the noises he was making were smaller, more pathetic, even whinier. “I’ve got you,” Healy whispered, voice rough, and helped guide him, pushing and dragging March to meet his thrusts.

March let his head fall back down, and his hands also slid back to hold on to Healy’s shoulders. Healy could see March’s lips quivering.

“Look at me,” Healy rasped, and March lazily peeled his eyes open. Healy kept eye contact as one of his hands slid under the waistband of March’s boxers and finally gripped him in his hand.

The moan that was wretched out of March’s lungs made him slap his palm over his mouth and squeeze his eyes shut, a sweet tear slipping down his cheek as he trembled in Healy’s lap and pulsed in his hand. Healy watched March’s face carefully as he twisted his hand and stroked upwards to the leaking tip. March’s toes curled, and a muffled sob hit his palm.

Healy swallowed a groan and thrust up, then swiped his thumb over the tip and felt a rather large spurt of pre-cum. “You’re dripping, baby,” he whispered, chuckling, and smeared the liquid over the sensitive head, March just whined and fell forward into Healy. He uncovered his mouth and instead used both of his hands to grip the front of Healy’s shirt.

Healy took his time. He stroked March agonizingly slow, savoring the whimpers and sobs he could get out of him. “You sound perfect like this,” Healy commented, voice hoarse. “So good for me,” he gave March’s cock another twist, and the younger man let out a long whine, both at the motion and Healy’s words.

March’s heart sank when he felt Healy’s hand disappear. He was about to protest and beg, but then heard Healy spit into his palm and return beneath the waistband of his underwear to grip the base of his cock. Healy used his other hand to pull the boxers further down March’s thighs before he returned it to his hip.

“Oh, thank you, thank you,” March muttered in relief, his forehead digging into Healy’s shoulder.

March seemed to have gotten ahead of himself as Healy didn’t relent. His pace almost painful as he tugged up quickly and then slowly, very slowly, back down. This lasted only a couple of minutes before March let out a broken sob.

“Healy,“ March whined his name, long and louder towards the end, no patience left inside him. Maybe Healy had indulged himself too much, however, recalling the day they had and the part March had to play in it, he figured he deserved this.

“I know, baby, I know,” Healy cooed with false sympathy and kissed March’s head. Nothing changed for another minute as Healy relished ‌the feeling of March’s full body weight slumping into him and the way it shook with his small sniffles, his hands clenching and unclenching themselves in the material of his shirt out of desperation.

“I’ll always take care of you,” Healy whispered, or maybe confessed. His voice too sincere, talking about something bigger than what they were doing right now.

He didn’t let March focus on his words though, as at last, he showed some mercy as he picked up the speed of his hand. March seemed to wake up as he stiffened in Healy’s lap with a shaky gasp, lifted his head from where he had been resting it on Healy’s shoulder and let it hang back, Healy moved quickly to attach his mouth to the exposed skin.

When Healy bit down on the flesh as he jerked March faster, March squirmed and gulped air as one of his hands punched Healy’s chest weakly. Healy couldn’t deny March anymore, he felt he finally had to give him his release.

“Fuck!” March squeaked, a sob following, and little moans after each of Healy’s tugs.

Healy dragged his lips to March’s ear and rasped into it, “You gonna come, March? You can let go, I’ve got you. Let me see your pretty face when you come.”

March’s “ah-ah-ah”’s went up another pitch at Healy’s words. He was right there, teetering on the edge.

Healy leaned back to watch March’s face. His cheeks were all wet, long eyelashes stuck together by his tears. Holland March was a sight to behold like this.

Instead of gripping the slimmer man’s hip for a moment longer, his free hand shot up and grabbed a fist full of hair at the back of March’s head and held it there so March couldn’t shy away.

Healy’s other hand hadn’t paused, jerking March’s cock with fervor, each time giving a tighter squeeze where the shaft met the head.

“You’ve done so fucking well, sweetheart,” Healy grunted and swiped his thumb over the tip of his cock, “Oh, my good boy—” 

March spasmed and choked out an exceptionally loud, broken sob as pearly ribbons of come spilled all over his chest and Healy’s hand, cock twitching desperately and pulsating against Healy’s palm.

Healy slowed, but didn’t stop, fist continuing to go up and down, using the come only to aid in working every last drop out of March.

March’s mouth still hadn’t ceased, continuing its string of weak “ah-ah”’s as his orgasm still tore through him. Healy just stared at him in awe, trying to burn this image into his mind. 

“That’s it, there you go,” Healy whispered, voice as gentle as he could make it.

The spurts of come finally started to subside and the aftershocks of the orgasm hit March, his body trembling.

Healy released the hold he had on the back of March’s head and instead shifted it to cradle his face for a moment to keep his head from rolling forward. Healy watched as another tear rolled down March’s face. He leaned in to kiss it away. March hummed.

While March caught his breath, Healy withdrew his hand from March’s softening cock and held him closer, careful not to let March fall backwards, while he reached behind March and grabbed a tissue from the coffee table. He wiped his hand and the drops that had gotten on March’s stomach.

Healy looked back up at March’s face, mouth open, breathing softly, eyes still shut.

“You look beautiful,” Healy told him, voice serious.

March laughed weakly, and with effort opened his eyes to look at him. “Gonna take me on a date next?,” he replied, voice hoarse. Healy shrugged and smiled at him, brushing away some hair that had fallen onto his forehead.

“Is that what you want? For me to take you on a date?”

“I want you—” March slid his hands down Healy’s chest to his belt and lazily began undoing it while keeping eye contact, “to stop poking me in the ass.”

Healy chuckled and looked down at March’s hands. He was attempting to get it undone so lazily in fact that he was making no progress, so Healy took over. March rolled his eyes.

Healy hissed through his teeth when he pulled himself out and gave a slow tug. March kept his eyes on Healy’s face a moment longer before looking down to watch him. March’s lips parted.

Healy’s cock was big and thick, throbbing after being ignored for so long, and making March’s head spin. He swallowed thickly and looked back up at Healy’s face while he continued to move his hand.

March thinks that he, exhausted, hair a mess, with dried tears on his face, can still be sexy. So, he slowly gets off ‌Healy’s lap and visibly cringes when his boxers slide off his legs the rest of the way. Healy’s paused and watching him now. March doesn’t let this deter him, he kicks them away and gets back on the floor on his knees between Healy’s legs.

Healy gets back to stroking himself as he watches March scoot even closer to his cock and flutters his eyelashes. His pretty boy.

Healy inhales deeply when March opens his mouth, sticks out his tongue, and just waits. He brings his free hand towards March and cards his fingers through March’s hair, “Fuck, you’re sexy,” Healy rasps. March hums in response.

Healy’s hand is speeding up, his chest rising and falling. As much as he’d like to drag March’s mouth down onto his cock and fuck into the warmth, he’s gonna refrain from that. Tonight, Healy wants to come all over March’s face and see him look grateful.

He tightens his grip on March’s hair, which March leans into. “Stay just like that, baby”. Healy grunts out and tightens his hand as he pumps his cock faster, “Gonna come on your face.”

March makes a weak, satisfied sound in the back of his throat and sticks his tongue out further, staring up at Healy with half-lidded eyes, watching his breath catch, how his thighs tense and then relax.

A sharp cutoff grunt, and Healy was painting March’s face with long, white ropes of his come. March shut his eyes and moaned softly as he felt it hit him, some landing on his tongue, scalding hot. 

Healy breathed heavily above him, clenching and unclenching his hand in March’s hair while his cock twitched, his balls emptying the last of what he had to give. Which was a lot, as Holland March’s face was covered in strings of it from his chin up to his eyebrows.

March felt dizzy as he slowly opened his eyes and looked at Healy. He brought his tongue into his mouth and swallowed what had landed on it. “Look at you,” Healy said, voice low, for the second time tonight.

Healy let go of March’s hair and instead brought that hand to his face. With his thumb, he gathered the come that had landed onto his lips and near them, then held it in front of March’s parted lips.

March looked at it, then back at Healy as he wrapped his lips around the thumb and licked off the salty substance before swallowing it. Healy gave him a small, tired smile. March returned it.

Healy tucked himself back into his jeans, then bent forward to the table, getting another tissue. “Hey,” Healy said, voice gentle.

March hadn’t realized his eyes had fallen shut until he opened them again and tipped his head up. Healy’s hand was gentle too as he wiped off the rest of the mess on March’s face before tossing the tissue where he had left the previous one.

"Come here," Healy stated, reaching for March's hand. When March gave it, he stood up and pulled March up with him. He held onto March’s hand as he walked a bit further from him, reaching for a nearby blanket draped over a chair. He let go of his hand to wrap the blanket properly around March’s shoulders, then nudged his chin toward the bedroom.

“Go get comfortable, I’ll pick up the clothes you’ve scattered around here. You can shower in the morning.”

“So you’re my maid now?” March asked, holding back a laugh.

Healy raised his eyebrows playfully and scoffed, “Mr. Funny guy, huh?”

March shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek. Healy put his hands on March’s waist and pulled him close, “Wanna go for round two?”

March laughed, and Healy smiled with his teeth, laughing with him. He leaned in and found March’s ear, “Bend you over the back of that armchair right there and really fuck out all the attitude you’ve got today.”

Immediately March quieted down, and this time Healy struggled not to laugh.

March leaned back enough to look at Healy’s face to see if he was serious, as it looked like March was really considering it. Healy rolled his eyes and turned March around, gently shoving him in the direction of the bedroom where he'll join him soon enough.

“Get your ass to bed.”