Archive of Our Own

Jimmy McGill rose early, rubbing his eyes as he greeted the new day.

The new day, hmmph. Some day it was.

This new law office had seemed like a great idea. And working with Kim had been great – at first, at least.

It had been pretty depressing to discover being in the same office all day every day could make any two people not want to be in a relationship. As much as “Let’s still be friends” had become a cliché, “let’s still be office suite-mates” probably should have been placed in an equally awkward adjacent cubbyhole.

But Jimmy didn’t want to get ahead of himself.

He figured it might get better once he actually got to work and started looking over the cases. And even if he and Kim weren’t “together” anymore (what a fifth-grade phrase that really was), it was nice to see her. To shoot the shit about cases, to just be around someone who wasn’t…

He didn’t know exactly how to describe the Howard Hamlins, the Clifford Mains, the… the Chucks.

He decided he definitely wasn’t going to think about Chuck. That wasn’t any way of making the day better and a sure-fire way to make it so much worse.

Jimmy let out a long sigh – here went nothing…

***

He didn’t expect to run into Mike Ehrmantraut on his way to the office; of course he didn’t. He hadn’t even seen the man in months, and so much the better, because the last time Mike had asked him for a favor it had ended up blowing up in his face with Kim.

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the challenge. It had been the rush of being Slippin’ Jimmy again, but he had a reason to be, for good. (The voice inside his head echoed “Slippin’ Jimmy with a law degree”, and he tuned it out.)

The man was pretty scary, Jimmy had to admit. The first time they had met, he had thought he was like any other old man who was fed up with his job. But Mike was into some dangerous games; that much was obvious.

Mike had been walking down the street, keys dangling in his hand like a weapon. Maybe he could make anything a weapon; Jimmy didn’t know.

But there was a tiny thrill that rippled through his neck at the thought of it, and he brushed it to the side.

“Hey, dude!” Jimmy exclaimed. There he was, yelling things out again. He wished he had thought about it for a moment, been more suave and charming. Wait, where had that come from? Was he thinking of Mike as a friend, a mark, or… as something else?

He didn’t have much time to consider it before Mike looked up, an expression on his face that clearly said “Don’t screw with me today”.

“What do you need, Mr. McGill?” he fired back, “Is your validation not working for you today?”

“Yeah, I guess I need validation,” Jimmy quipped, groaning inwardly. “Anyway, uh, did you… need anything? Legal representation or anything?” Not like Mike had told him anything last time – whatever shady dealings Mike was involved with, he seemed happy to keep them to himself. That was frustrating, though he supposed he couldn’t blame the man for not wanting to announce this kind of thing to the world.

Mike had sense, an old-style kind of sense, though there was a part of him that seemed to belong back in a black and white movie, or maybe a town in the Midwest where people still didn’t lock their doors.

They were both out of place.

Jimmy let his eyes return to Mike – the older man already looked frustrated. If Jimmy was going to say something to him, he had better make it good and make it fast. If this was another con, he would need to take this moment to sell the story, to add the details to hook in the mark. But was that what he was trying to do? Or was he just killing time to avoid going back to his new, boring life, or doing something to ruin it all over again?

“I need your help.” Details, no not exactly, but he had said something indeed, that much was true. Then again, Mike was a man of few words; he wasn’t exactly known for sitting around engaging in small talk.

“…Okay? With what? Hopefully, nothing,” Jimmy lowered his voice, “illegal, since I’m trying to keep it on the straight and narrow as of recent.” Even as he said it, he realized how clearly he conveyed the opposite – the little voice inside his head, the devil on his shoulder, was telling him to be bad, to seize any opportunity, to get away from the boredom and monotony at the first possibility.

Mike gave him a look that clearly said he either didn’t believe Jimmy’s protests, or just didn’t care to hear them.

“I have an issue. There’s a group of men who have been… getting in my way. However, I’ve discovered that they’ve been having some minor… legal trouble, shall we say. I was thinking maybe you could talk to them before I have to handle the situation myself.”

“What kind of legal trouble?”

“I want to know if you’re in before we talk specifics. As you may have gathered, McGill, I don’t have a lot of years left to sit around listening to people hem and haw.”

“Sure, I’m in.” He could visualize Kim as the little angel on his shoulder, telling him not to do it – but then there was Marco on the other side, and the red skin and horns kind of suited the guy.

Mike sighed, as if the exchange had taken hours instead of minutes.

“I’m having some trouble with our dear friend Tuco and his operation. I’m going to need to jam them up – not enough to put him back in jail, per se, but enough to keep him busy. I can’t have him around me.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it here.”

It was probably the best place to talk about it – no one was likely to stop what they were doing to listen to what these two were discussing.

But he had the sudden realization that Mike had never seen his apartment, and there was something wrong about that. Something off in the universe – in chaos theory a butterfly’s wings could set off a nuclear war; was that what Jimmy was planning to do, simply because he and Kim hadn’t worked out?

Hell, he had left a job for that reason. He had taken a job for that reason.

The things we do for love, he mused.

***

Jimmy’s apartment suddenly felt very big, and very sparse. He was sitting on his nice new couch and looking back and forth between the man across from him and his own legs.

Mike Ehrmantraut hadn’t said a word, not yet – he just seemed to be looking around the place and sizing it up, and Jimmy with it. Jimmy wanted to explain – what, exactly, he didn’t know, but he needed to explain somehow that there was so much more to him.

“Mike,” he began, but Mike made a low, clipped noise like he was stopping a cat from scratching up the furniture.

“Listen, McGill,” Mike said instead. “I need to know if I can trust you.”

“You can trust me,” Jimmy told him, but he must have said it too fast, let the horse out of the barn too quickly, because Mike gave him a suspicious look.

“You’re a kid, aren’t you?”

“I’m thirty-nine.”

“You’re a kid,” Mike repeated. “Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

Jimmy didn’t expect what happened next; Mike was beside him in a flash and had slung one leg over Jimmy’s khaki-covered one. He was straddling him before Jimmy could breathe a question or a word.

“Then why are you doing that?” Jimmy managed in what felt like a year later. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it – oh, that little part in his brain was tweeting like a bird to let him know just how much he liked it – but why was Mike doing this? What game was he playing, or was it no game at all? Maybe the old man was just lonely.

It was a lonely life out there, after all.

“Because it’s time for you to learn a few things.”

Jimmy swallowed. Of all the situations he had found himself in during the past year, this would have to be one of the more unusual ones.

He couldn’t say that he didn’t like it, though; nor, necessarily, could he say that he did.

He figured he would just let it happen, like a verdict. Like a judgment.

Jimmy liked that thought; it sounded very profound – and, oh, he wasn’t going to have much time to keep thinking about it because now Mike’s lips were on his neck and the older man was biting down on the skin, there, and making Jimmy shudder.

“I’d… like to learn them,” Jimmy quipped, but it came out a little weak. He couldn’t stop talking, though. “This is… different. How long have you wanted to do this to me?”

“Shut up,” Mike growled, biting on Jimmy’s neck again.

“Yes… Yeah, message received, loud and clear, I got it,” Jimmy babbled. He could barely get the words out as Mike pushed him down, pinning him against the couch. He couldn’t shake the thought that his neck was bound to have a crick in it when he woke up the next morning – but he also wasn’t sure that he would care about that.

Mike was pulling on his tie, now, and Jimmy was sure he was going to burst into giggles. He hadn’t felt like this much of a virgin the first time he’d had sex.
But that hadn’t been like this, after all. This was scary, almost – assuming that sex was where this was going, after all. Mike was scary in a wonderful sort of way (a roller coaster he was strapped into and heading down up the hill, ready to suspend in mid-air for the beautiful-terrifying plunge), but scary nonetheless. How could he know what that man was thinking?

“What are you going to do with that?” Jimmy asked with a teasing grin. He thought about the yarn he’d come up with about his client and the pie. Had Mike found out about how he had pulled that off? Did he think Jimmy was some kind of kinky bastard now?

Maybe… And maybe he liked it.

“I’m about to gag you with it,” Mike growled, and Jimmy’s hair stood up on the back of his neck.

Maybe he was a kinky bastard. He hoped pies wouldn’t be a part of this night, however – it seemed a waste of dessert.
Instead of following through on his threat, Mike threw the tie to the side and began to quickly unbutton Jimmy’s shirt. He finished pulling it off without a word, then tossed it to the side as well.

“Hey, be careful – it took me a long time to save up for that,” Jimmy babbled. Mike ignored him.

He began to unbutton his pants, next – he paused when he had the fly down, asking, “Do you want this?”

Jimmy swallowed hard. Now, he was on the spot. Now he’d have to ask himself the same question – did he want “this”, whatever “this” meant exactly in the big picture?

He sucked in a breath and nodded.

“I want this,” he said, leaning up to crush his lips against Mike’s. He wasn’t sure what led him to such a bold mood – perhaps it was a fear that Mike would walk away now, deciding that there was some sign that Jimmy wasn’t on board. That Jimmy would find himself wondering for the rest of his days whether it had happened or had simply been a dream conjured up by too many lonely days doing paperwork.

Mike followed the kiss, pressing their noses together in an oddly affectionate gesture.
Jimmy began to wonder what Mike was getting out of this – were they both in the throes of some kind of mid-life (or, Jimmy thought, in Mike’s case end-of-life) crisis?

Or did he have actual feelings for Jimmy?

And how did Jimmy feel about that, if he did?

He shoved it to the back of his mind. It didn’t matter now. He’d spent enough time contemplating things like this in the morning after. It was always starker and harsher in the glow of the dawn, in the singing of the birds at his bedroom window.

“Jimmy,” Mike spoke up, “Hands and knees, to the floor.”

Jimmy followed the command, feeling like he was doing jumping jacks in an aerobics studio somewhere.

In a flash, his pants and boxers were off, and he was left sticking his butt out at Mike Ehrmantraut, who didn’t appear to have thoughts on the quality of it either way.

At least, until he gave him a smack on the ass.

Jimmy laughed and jiggled himself a little.

Mike reached underneath him and squeezed his cock before Jimmy could wonder where the rest of this was going.

He rocked into the touch eagerly, making an embarrassingly happy sound as he did; it was almost a squeak but not quite.

“What would you like me to do to you?”

Mike’s voice was low, something between a purr and a growl.

“Everything,” Jimmy said, because he thought it sounded sexy – then again, it came out sounding a little bit like the Sex Robot voice.

But he had to keep trying… Mike was making him want to try.

“More specific,” Mike said, leaning in to nip at Jimmy’s ear; Jimmy felt something hard against his ass and let out another squeak.
It was almost too much, and he had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from babbling all over again.

But when Mike squeezed him again, it was impossible not to.

“I… I… That’s good – so good, don’t stop!”

He swallowed hard, trying to get himself composed. His cheeks flushed.

“I need,” he began, swallowing hard. “I need…”

“You need,” Mike replied with a tiny chuckle. “I’ll give… Let me give you what you want.”

He stroked him again; Jimmy stuck his butt back up in the air.

“I’ll do anything,” Jimmy said, and he was sure that he meant it as he spilled over Mike’s hand.

And then he came tumbling down on to the floor, gasping.

***

Mike didn’t stay long, but Jimmy might have assumed that anyway. He didn’t seem to be the “hang around and cuddle” type.

He did make sure he moved Jimmy’s clothes over within arm’s length of him, however; Jimmy didn’t have much of a move to pull them back over himself.

What was he going to do about this, how? Seek out Mike again? Talk about this, somehow?

How did people actually talk about a one-night stand outside of movies?

And he had never found out the job Mike needed him for. That bothered him most of all.

***

He sat in his office, spinning around in his swivel chair.

There was paperwork ahead of him, but he couldn’t quite see it. Too blurry.

The phone rang – or was that just in his head? Everything seemed surreal for Jimmy these days, after all – a phone ringing in his head would be the least weird thing that had happened as of late.

His hand moved, as if of his own accord, and picked it up.

“Office of James McGill,” he answered.

“McGill,” Mike’s voice rasped. “I need you to defend someone for me.”

Jimmy paused only a minute before saying, “Sure. Where is he?”

And back down the rabbit hole he went.