Work Text:
The ticking of the second hand sounded unnaturally sharp in his ears.
A pair of tattoo-covered hands was spinning a pen with flamboyant flair, sending it dancing across his knuckles before tossing it into the air. That was until a momentary slip caused the ballpoint pen to hit the floor with a harsh, clattering sound.
Only then did Locke snap back to reality. He had been staring at the glass door of the office for quite some time.
Inside, the Commander of the Major Crimes Unit was speaking with a newly assigned officer.
They were discussing a major case that several departments had jointly investigated—a case the newcomer had been specifically transferred here to handle.
As a forensic consultant hired by the police force, Locke had every legitimate reason to wait there for their briefing.
Still, he wanted nothing more than to push open that glass door and walk right in—because that damned rookie had long since crossed the boundaries of normal social interaction with the Commander.
His brows were drawn into a deep frown. Beneath his lenses, the expression in his eyes was unreadable, but the aura radiating from him was a night-and-day contrast to his usual smiling demeanor.
Former colleagues who had finally found a chance to work with him and wanted to say hello were frightened off by this look. They whispered among themselves, wondering whether the detective had taken on an unusually difficult case lately.
Everyone turned their eyes toward the two people on the other side of the glass—Shauna Vayne, Commander of the Major Crimes Unit, and the rookie.
Ever since the newcomer joined the team, those blatant glances had become less and less subtle.
Back when they were still office neighbors, word had already spread that someone next door secretly harbored feelings for their Commander. Though no one could figure out how their paths had crossed in the first place, that grand, dramatic history of unrequited love had long served as prime gossip over afternoon tea.
However, things took a turn last month.
When the newcomer’s enthusiastic pursuit ran headfirst into Vayne, he hit a brick wall. Her coldness and strictness were famous throughout the entire police department.
Yet, to everyone’s surprise, he faced the difficulty head-on: bringing her breakfast to win favor, cleaning up loose ends at work, and even trying to squeeze himself into the partnership between the Commander and the detective whenever case assignments were made.
Naturally, and predictably, he earned a sharp scolding from the Commander:
“Stop playing petty tricks.”
As the days of going through shared hardships grew longer, rumors slowly began to spread. Some bet on when the rookie would confess; others wagered on whether he would cry when rejected; a few even wondered if the pair actually stood a chance.
In short, romantic rumors involving the Commander and the rookie were mounting by the day.
The meetings over the past few days had mostly been about wrapping up the case and submitting the final reports.The department’s atmosphere was fairly relaxed, and even the expression on the Commander’s face had softened considerably compared to usual.
Until a whisper drifted over from someone nearby:
“Don’t you think they actually look pretty good together?”
The pen Locke had managed to retrieve snapped cleanly in two.
Abandoning the broken pieces on the desk, he stood up and walked straight toward the office. To hell with the order to wait for the debriefing. He was external staff anyway—not bound by their rules.
—
“Shauna, can I catch a ride with you after work?”
When the door swung open, the conversation inside was abruptly interrupted. Vayne felt more annoyance than outright anger at the impolite intrusion.
Shifting her gaze from the case files on her desk to the uninvited guest,she said
“Locke? Didn’t I tell you to wait outside? Didn’t you drive?”
“Just had a whim to try Demacia’s public transit today, but the return timetable didn’t line up.”
At that moment, the newly assigned detective, who had been left on the sidelines, chimed in:
“Mr. Locke, if you don’t mind, you can ride with me. Commander Vayne is a single woman; it might be inconvenient for her to be with you late at night.”
An interjection that sounded entirely reasonable and polite to an outsider caused a nerve in Locke’s already tense temple to twitch twice. But before he could speak, Vayne cut in first.
“No need. He’s on my way.”
“Wait for me at the entrance after work.”
“Alright, I’ll head out first then.”
Locke smoothly placed a hand on her shoulder, patting it twice. But as his fingertips pulled away, they brushed against the back of her neck so lightly yet so deliberately that she couldn’t ignore it.
A faint blush tinged the skin near her ears, hidden beneath her black hair, and her eyes widened slightly. Just as she was about to turn around and look, he had already turned on his heel and left, tossing back a quiet, “See you later.”
“See you later…”
Vayne touched her neck rather unnaturally, her response sounding like a low murmur under her breath. The gesture had been far too deft for anyone else to notice anything unusual.
The rookie simply asked with concern, “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Let’s get back to work.”
—
“I don’t understand what you mean by ‘forgetting’ your car was in the parking lot.”
“If you just like feeling the breeze, go buy one yourself. Stop always freeloading off others.”
The two had just stepped into the entryway, but the sound of their bickering had already reached the living room. Ever since Locke moved in, this home had grown noisier by the day; even the withered plants on the balcony had turned an almost obnoxiously lively shade of green.
“I just wanted to come back with you. How’s that for an excuse?”
“Tch. Smooth talker.”
“Cool down, Shauna. We can finally get some proper rest—wouldn’t you say?”
He reached out and gently wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her into a half-embrace. The second half of his sentence grew soft and sticky, his breath scattering near her ear. As the cold chill of his metallic cross dissipated, even the tips of her ears flushed red.
Truth be told, moments when Locke took the initiative like this were rare; he was usually the one who went along with things. His actions today were far more aggressive than usual, though they carried a faint trace of restlessness.
Vayne didn’t overthink it. They were indeed exhausted from working non-stop for weeks on end, and after finally reaching the end of the case, the weekend was here.
Now that they finally had some free time, she didn’t mind relaxing.
Since the spark had already been lit, it had all night to burn.
—
Who had suggested squeezing into the bathroom together was no longer important.
The surrounding steam hovered like a veil between them, blurring their vision. Sweat beads and moisture mixed on their skin, dampening their hair as strands of gold and black tangled together. He reached around the back of her head, gripping that loose lock of hair, refusing to leave any space between them.
Kissing wasn’t usually part of their routine, but the heavy air was almost intoxicating. Guided by the feeling, she parted her lips.
The sensation on her tongue was wetter than the mist, and his breath against her face was scalding hot. He skillfully entwined his tongue with hers, brushing past her teeth—not rushing the kiss, but making it deep and soft.
He caught the moisture that almost spilled from the corners of her mouth, while the soft sound of water echoed through her throat and seemed to seep into her bones, sending a prickle of itchiness down her lower back.
A slightly calloused hand moved slowly from her flank toward her back, using a rough thumb to lightly scratch along her spine. Unconsciously, she arched her back into an even more enticing curve, pressing her lower abdomen forward until it almost touched his hot, rigid length.
Yet he merely deepened the kiss, his hand continuing its light, agonizingly ticklish motions.
With the rhythm of the kiss, their steps tangled together.
Locke nudged his knee between Vayne’s legs. Behind her was the wall; before her was his chest—there was nowhere to run.
When the skin of her back pressed against the tiles, the tiny gap was instantly filled with moisture. Her burning body heat was swept away by a sudden wave of chill, drawing a soft sigh from her mid-kiss. Sensing that light sigh, he reached out, placing his palm between her skin and the icy wall.
Instinct drove her away from the cold and toward the heat. Vayne moved forward on her own initiative, pressing her chest against his. She hooked her arms around his neck, finally freeing her tongue.
Their scattered breaths were ragged; both needed to seize this brief window to pull in air.
Vayne instinctively swayed her hips, her soft chest rubbing against him. Locke freed one hand, creating a little distance between them.
His palm cupped her breast, kneading it with gentle pressure while his thumb rubbed against the already hardened nipple.
Yet those subtle, fleeting touches only stoked her desire further. Impatient, she urged him with her eyes, her hazy expression stripped of its sharp edge, laying bare a raw craving.
“…Stop stalling.”
“No need to rush. The night is long.”
The hand resting on her waist slipped downward, cupping her hip and lifting her onto her tiptoes.
Pulling his hand back, Locke leaned down, his teeth lightly biting around her areola, leaving a faint hickey behind. He used the tip of his canine to scrape against her nipple, teasing her into arching her chest to offer herself straight into his warm mouth.
Her lower body was swept along by these tingling waves of pleasure. Thick, warm fluid trickled down her thighs, which were taut from standing on her toes. One of Locke’s hands wandered between her legs, smearing the slick wetness around. As more liquid spilled out, his palm became thoroughly soaked.
His lips and teeth slowly worked their way down her chest, tracing down to her lower abdomen, leaving a trail of kisses.
Then he sank to his knees and spread her legs.
A soft kiss fell upon her most intimate place; the tip of his tongue swept across the soft flesh around it, licking up plenty of her sweet moisture before finally taking the tender peak into his mouth.
Between each slow pull, his teeth grazed lightly against it, making her legs turn soft. Locke had no choice but to reach out and help balance her. His golden hair was thoroughly tousled by her frantic, aimless grip.
Locke looked up at the view above him. That pair of soft breasts trembled gently, and though she covered her eyes with her hands, light gasps continuously leaked from her lips—a truly exquisite sight.
Having finally spared that thoroughly tasted little spot, his tongue parted her wet folds to sample her essence.
The flat of his tongue swirled at the entrance, coaxing her with immense patience, while the bridge of his nose pressed against the poor, thoroughly teased peak.
When he thrust his tongue inside, his movements were no longer gentle. The soft intruder pressed deep into her inner walls, trying to squeeze out even more moisture.
The feeling shifted from a delicate sensation spreading across her body into a sudden, overwhelming wave of pleasure flooding her lower abdomen—far too intense to handle all at once.
The tingling sensation that had been building up with nowhere to go instantly surged to its peak.
She couldn’t stop trembling as the heat between her legs poured out continuously, sliding past his chin and over his Adam’s apple.
Locke used his hand to wipe his soaked lower face, smirking.
“So fast?”
The breath of his words hit her most sensitive spot. Vayne knit her brows, wanting to halt the lingering waves. When she spoke, the end of her voice quavered unnaturally.
“Shut up… do you find it fun teasing me like this?”
He stood up, looking into her eyes—which, though flooded with desire, remained sharp as ever. Pressing his forehead against hers, he asked:
“Can you still stand, Shauna?”
Vayne shook her head slightly, reaching out to wrap her arms around his neck.
Having received her answer, He knew it was time to get to work.
Locke reached one arm around her back and used the other to lift the crook of her thigh, effortlessly hoisting her up onto his body.
He opened a small box on the shelf nearby, pulled out a square foil packet, tore it open casually with his teeth, and put it on.
He originally intended to check whether her passage was ready to accept him after the recent ordeal, but her hand stopped him.
Her thighs hooked around his waist, feeling the rigid length already rearing to go beneath her. Vayne bit down unceremoniously on his shoulder, her fierce anticipation held back only by her pride. She could only hide her face, attempting to cover up her longing.
Receiving the sharp sting on his shoulder, he hesitated no longer and drove his hips deeply upward.
The long-unvisited canal was hot, wet, and tight.
Having just reached a climax, a vast amount of moisture had poured out, making his entry incredibly smooth. Yet Locke’s movements cast aside all the tenderness paved during foreplay, plunging forcefully straight to her deepest point in a single stroke.
Vayne couldn’t help cursing out loud:
“Corvin! What the hell?!”
In this position, the more she tried to move, the deeper he penetrated. Her thrashing legs and hips were held firmly in place by him. Vayne suddenly felt as if she had stepped into a trap—his earlier setup had simply been too good.
Locke sighed softly by her temple, his whisper laced with apology:
“I’m sorry. Just for today, alright?”
Yet the movements below his waist offered no room to catch her breath. The depth of his thrusts was profound, and with her legs suspended in midair, she had nowhere to leverage her strength. Her weightless body sank helplessly downward, only for her lower abdomen to be forcefully met by his upward thrusts.
After so long without it, the intimacy was overwhelmingly intense. She had no chance to adjust; her words became a jumbled mess as she dug her sharp teeth into him while spilling every curse she knew.
He accepted every single curse, interweaving them with soft “sorrys” and kisses that rained down on her collarbone and neck. Love bites were stamped onto her skin one by one, as if as pleading for forgiveness for how rough he was being.
A faint tooth mark was also lightly branded onto her shoulder, its tiny sting bringing her back to her senses slightly.
Listening to the sloshing sounds grow clearer, she no longer had the energy to care, wanting only to stop the pleasure that was nearly drowning her.
Locke subtly adjusted the angle, easing the force of his thrusts just a bit, but hitting that exact piece of soft flesh that couldn’t bear the torture. The sensation was both numb and aching; every time his tip brushed past it, her insides contracted uncontrollably.
Their breathing grew heavy, competing for oxygen amid the steamy mist. She saw the veins on his forehead throbbing—it seemed she wasn’t the only one driven out of her mind by ecstasy.
As the claw marks on his back grew deeper, her nails nearly embedding themselves into his skin, her internal walls suddenly squeezed tight. The muffled moans she had pressed into her mouth spilled out. She buried herself deeply in Locke’s embrace, her body’s tremors beating directly against his heart.
The tightening sensation made Locke’s scalp go numb. As more thick liquid spilled from where they joined, his grip on her thigh tightened.
That fervor on the brink of losing control finally hit its breaking point; the final few thrusts were fierce and deep, making her lower abdomen ache.
Only intermittent gasps remained in the bathroom.
For a fleeting moment, Vayne thought she was going to suffocate, collapsing weak and helpless in his arms. The lingering waves of her orgasm hadn’t stopped, and her unconscious contractions made it hard to part.
Locke didn’t leave right away; he merely held her tighter and more securely, his tongue licking the marks left on her neck.
When Locke carefully withdrew, Vayne couldn’t help catching her breath the moment the emptiness hit.
He lifted her horizontally and placed her into the bathtub filled with hot water.
After making sure she was alright, Locke stepped into the water as well, pulling her back into his embrace from behind.
The water temperature had dropped quite a bit, but it was still warm enough.
Her neck, shoulders, collarbone, and even her chest were covered in marks. Looking at the traces he had left behind, Locke nodded to himself in quiet satisfaction.
Vayne really wanted to ask him what kind of madness had taken over him today, but her energy was completely spent, and the warm water made her drowsy.
She adjusted her posture, leaning back into a more comfortable position.
Locke quietly pulled her hand up from beneath the water, gently massaging her knuckles and wrist bones. When he spoke, his voice was slightly raspy, muffled against her ear.
“Can we go again in a bit?”
“Let me rest for a while…”
—
After the brief weekend break, the police department returned to its usual lively atmosphere.
The rookie stood holding two cups of hot coffee, waiting early for the person he admired to appear.
When he saw Vayne’s figure walk through the door, he made a move to step forward and greet her. But taking a closer look, he spotted several faint red marks beneath her shirt collar—and even a subtle bite mark that looked mostly healed, making it hard to imagine how messy things must have been a few days ago.
The newly assigned officer froze dead on the spot. In a daze, one of the coffee cups in his hand was snatched away. Looking over, he saw the detective, who took a sip, nodded to him in acknowledgment, and walked past.
Before the door to the Commander’s office closed, the last thing he saw was the man reaching out to adjust Vayne’s collar, the casual familiarity of the gesture thoroughly painful to watch.
……What an utter failure of a crush.