"It's okay, I've done this before."
Joe assumed that was meant to reassure him but it did little to calm his nerves. The boy was kneeling on the floor between his legs as Joe rubbed clammy hands along thighs that were stiff with tension.
He didn't know how he was meant to respond to Kent's confession so he just remained silent and concentrated on the simple act of breathing.
It all felt incredibly surreal to Joe; after all, he'd never been in a situation like this before. He was embarrassed to admit even to himself, that at thirty-nine years of age, this was the first time he'd allowed anyone the opportunity to touch him so intimately.
I'm an educated man, for God's sake; a detective inspector with the Metropolitan Police and to top it all, Kent's mentor and boss. What must he think of me?
He wasn't given further time to feel ashamed however, as Kent reached forward and unfastened Joe's belt and trousers before pulling the zip down. He was unhurried but moved with purpose, giving Joe every opportunity to end the proceedings but he didn't, even though he knew he should.
Kent's actions spoke of confidence and experience, quite unlike his demeanour at the station sometimes. His men often treated Kent like he was still the new boy but Joe knew that he was more than competent and usually always proved himself whenever he was given the chance.
Joe's anxiety was made worse by guilt. He needed another person to help him feel normal (whatever that was) and he was absolutely positive Kent was there because he wanted to be, but at the same time he couldn't help the feeling he was using him.
Joe knew Kent had harboured an unhealthy amount of misplaced hero-worship for him when he first took charge of the team and he wasn't stupid enough not to realise he still did to some extent. The implication of sexual harassment aside, Joe didn't know what Kent expected to gain from this apart from the obvious. What Joe wanted was to feel for once, something that seemed to come so easily to everyone else, but what if he just wasn't capable of that emotion and couldn't even give Kent a fraction of what he deserved?
Suddenly, Kent leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. The kiss was dry and brief and really nothing special but with that simplest of touches, a lot of Joe's apprehension disappeared. It was impossible for Kent to know just how agitated Joe had been but he must have noticed the change in him because he did it again and again, until Joe responded in his own restrained manner.
When Kent pulled back and said, "Lift up a bit," Joe unconsciously raised himself off the couch enough for Kent to tug his trousers down a little. Joe frowned, wondering at the hygienic ramifications of sitting bare-arsed on his couch, and as if knowing exactly what was going through his mind, Kent said, "Close your eyes," and brought Joe's attention back to him. "Don't think about anything else; just concentrate on how it feels."
Joe forced himself to relax and slouched down a bit as he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. He jumped slightly when he felt Kent touch him and held his breath as the hand wrapped firmly around his flaccid cock began applying gentle pressure. Oh, God, what if I can't even get hard? What if this is just a big waste of Kent's time? Not to mention the sheer and utter embarrassment that will undoubtedly make both of us want to die of shame at work tomorrow.
Determined to put a stop to the madness, Joe released his breath and opened his eyes, catching a brief glimpse of Kent's slender fingers as they abandoned his cock. It was obvious Kent had come to the same conclusion and he was glad because it meant the young man wouldn't have to hear his pathetic excuses for backing out.
But Kent didn't stand up and make his apologies. Instead, he began unbuttoning Joe's waistcoat. The unexpected action threw him a bit and distracted him from his previous thoughts. He'd already removed his jacket earlier in the evening when he and Kent had first entered the flat, and he'd been so busy freaking out that it hadn't even occurred to him he was still wearing it.
All he could think was that they were doing everything in the wrong order. I always take off my coat first (if it's cold enough to be wearing one), then my jacket; remove my mobile phone and wallet from my pockets, then take off my cufflinks, watch and ring; my waistcoat and tie come next, followed by my shoes and socks; my belt precedes my shirt and then finally I take off my trousers and underwear.
The order in which Joe removed his clothing wasn't something he felt he had to be meticulous about (unless he was under a great deal of stress at work), but he couldn't help feeling there was something inappropriate about sitting there with his genitalia hanging out while he still had his tie on.
However, in spite of this, Joe refrained from saying anything and Kent finished with the buttons, pushing his waistcoat apart and then moving onto his tie. He expected him to take it off but all he did was loosen it.
As Kent's hands smoothed leisurely back down his chest, taking the time to appreciate the warm skin beneath the fabric of his shirt, Joe found himself following their path with his eyes, a little mesmerised by the contact which felt surprisingly more intimate than when Kent had been touching him moments before.
Joe assumed his shirt would be the next item of clothing Kent unfastened. He was just about to put a hand out to stop him but all Kent did was push it up to rest on his stomach. Joe felt relieved because despite the fact his most private area was on display, he knew it would have been a step too far. He'd removed his shirt in public before but this was an entirely different situation. He trusted Kent completely because they wouldn't have been in this position at all if he didn't, but the sudden realisation that Kent seemed to know exactly what Joe's limits were, gave him the courage and determination to see the evening through.
It was with equal parts fascination and disgust that Joe watched Kent lick his right palm, and although he tried to ignore the horror of all those potential germs, he couldn't hide his slight grimace.
Kent stilled. "I've washed my hands," he said.
"I know you have." Joe's voice came out dry and croaky. He cleared his throat and repeated himself a little louder. "I know you have. Please. Continue." He didn't want to see that look of disappointment on Kent's face ever again.
Kent hesitated for a moment, licked his hand twice more and then spat in it for good measure before placing it once again on Joe's cock. Joe closed his eyes without being asked this time and settled back, fully intending to follow Kent's earlier advice.
Kent just held him, not really putting much effort into getting him hard. Occasionally, he would lift and squeeze him gently, almost as if he was savouring the feel and weight of Joe's cock, and it appeased Joe to think that might be the case. As the pressure and movement slowly increased, he felt himself stirring but it wasn't enough to prevent his mind from wondering elsewhere.
His colleagues all thought he was gay. He wished it was that simple but the truth was, he'd never been particularly attracted to either sex and on the rare occasion he did allow himself to even consider the possibility of a relationship with someone, that person never seemed interested in him. Each time it happened, Joe found it bothered him less and less, but it never stopped him dreaming.
And then Kent had come along with his puppy dog enthusiasm and eagerness to please. He hadn't been tainted yet by the brutality of the job unlike everyone else. Even after he'd been attacked, once his initial anger had worn off, it was as if he'd refused to let it affect him and that was that.
And in spite of Kent's tendency to cry if things got too much, he was actually a very strong person when it counted; which was why it was only a matter of time before Joe started entertaining thoughts of him and Kent together. The more time they spent with each other, the more Joe liked him; so much so, that during the Kray investigation when he'd accused Kent of being the mole and told him, "Out of everyone, I really wish it hadn't been you," he'd never meant anything more in his life.
He found himself attracted to Kent in a physical sense too, which surprised him greatly. Just the other day, he'd leaned over him for an update on a case and become distracted by brown eyes and soft lips… until he'd realised Kent had stopped talking and was staring back at him. He'd got flustered, muttered something barely adequate in response and rushed back to his office, praying the hand he'd placed on Kent's shoulder hadn't been misconstrued by any random observers or more importantly Kent himself.
He was brought out of his musings when he realised he was hard and highly aroused but his cock lay untouched against his stomach. He opened his eyes to the sight of Kent preparing to put a condom on him.
Suddenly feeling brave, Joe reached out and stilled Kent's hands. "No, don't."
Kent looked confused. "But I thought-"
"So did I, but I think I want to try it without." Kent was clearly shocked. "But of course if you aren't comfortable with that-"
"No, that's fine," he said quickly, probably before Joe could change his mind. He tossed the condom on the floor and gripped Joe with one hand.
Joe couldn't take his eyes off Kent as his mouth descended towards his cock. Just as he had all night, he took his time, placing little open-mouthed kisses on and around the tip before closing his lips around it.
Joe reached out instinctively just as Kent looked up. He'd only wanted to touch the man's hair but felt immediate shame when Kent caught him in the act. He returned his hand to its original position on the couch beside him but Kent felt around for it blindly, transferring it to his head whilst maintaining eye contact the entire time. Joe sighed and threaded his fingers through the dark curls.
Kent swirled his tongue over and around the slit, pulling the foreskin back repeatedly as his hand kept up a constant rhythm up and down. After a short while that same hand held him steady as he licked down the underside and back up, repeating the motion several times before returning his attention to the head.
Joe closed his eyes and dropped his head back. He bit his lip in order to prevent a litany of embarrassing words and moans from escaping. Both hands were in Kent's hair now, constantly moving and silently encouraging Kent to do more, go faster, suck harder.
He couldn't help the way his hips jerked as Kent moved up and down. The wet, slick noise of him sucking enthusiastically whilst simultaneously trying to breathe around his cock sounded incredibly loud and utterly obscene to Joe's ears.
"Let go," Kent mumbled around the head before moving down to engulf him again, the saliva coating Kent's fingers allowing them to slide with ease over the hard flesh as he kept up a reckless pace, his head bobbing faster and faster until suddenly Kent moaned around his cock and Joe's hips lifted involuntary one more time as he came, his fingers gripping Kent's hair, not to push him down but to hold him in place while he spilled his seed into Kent's mouth.
As his climax came to an end, Joe forced his eyes open because it was suddenly imperative he see Kent's face. He looked flushed and slightly sweaty, his mouth still stretched indecently around the end of Joe's cock.
Joe dropped his hands back down to rest on his thighs and Kent lifted his head. He watched as Kent swallowed what was in his mouth before running the back of his hand across his lips, wiping away any remaining trace of saliva or semen. His softening cock gave one last twitch at the sight.
When Joe's breathing started to slow down and his heart no longer felt like it was about to burst from his chest, the reality of the situation began to edge its way back into Joe's consciousness. He couldn't deny he'd enjoyed the experience but now he was coming down from his high, all his previous doubts and insecurities came creeping back.
"Erm… do you want me to…?" Joe enquired, gesturing vaguely in Kent's direction. He prayed that Kent wouldn't want the favour returning. It wasn't that he was disgusted by the idea, surprisingly enough; it was just that he knew he'd need time to prepare himself for something like that.
"There's no need," Kent said quietly as he glanced down. Joe realised he'd been too wrapped up in his own pleasure to notice that Kent had already come. When Kent looked back up, Joe could have sworn the boy was blushing, seemingly more embarrassed about coming in his pants than the fact he'd just sucked off his boss.
Kent gave a shy smile and moved to sit down next to him on the couch. Joe lifted his hips and pulled his underwear and trousers back up, hastily tucking himself away.
They sat in silence. Joe stared at the dark television screen on the wall in front of him but he could sense Kent's eyes on him. The longer they remained quiet, the more awkward and uncomfortable Joe felt. He had to break the silence.
"Thank you." He felt rather pathetic expressing gratitude for a blow job, but it wasn't just the act itself that Joe was grateful for and he thought perhaps Kent knew that. He hoped he did.
"You're welcome," Kent replied as he placed a hand on top of Joe's. Joe looked down at the contact, then back up at Kent.
"I'm sorry."
Kent frowned. "What for?"
"I should never have put you in this situation. It was unprofessional and highly unethical. I won't contest if you decide you want to report me for improper conduct or sexual harassment-"
"Stop it," Kent interrupted. "We've been through all this. I knew what I was getting into when I came here and I still do." Kent gave Joe's hand a squeeze. "Nothing's changed."
Joe was unconvinced. "You're young; you should be with someone your own age, someone with less baggage. I'm a mess."
"You're a brilliant detective." Kent shifted in his seat to face him. "I learn from you every day. The other guys all seem to know what they're doing and sometimes it makes me feel stupid, like I'm just getting under everyone's feet, but you never make me feel that way. You explain things to me if I don't understand. You've always got time for me." He placed his hand within Joe's and entwined their fingers. "I know you've got problems. Let me help you. I want to help."
He was glad Kent hadn't contradicted him when he'd said he was messed up; it meant Kent wasn't fooling himself that Joe's issues were superficial. He'd tried various therapists in the past and still saw one now on occasion, but they'd never been particularly helpful and Joe had resigned himself to feeling abnormal for the rest of his life. But if he had the support of someone he cared about, someone who cared about him, he thought he might just be able to live with that.
Kent's offer was incredibly tempting but Joe still found himself hesitating. "Other people will think-"
"It doesn't matter what other people think, Joe; it's none of their business," Kent said emphatically. "Besides, we can keep it just between the two of us if that's what you want."
Joe thought that might be for the best, at least until they both got used to the situation. And in coming to that conclusion, he realised he'd just made his decision. "What if you call me Joe at work? The men will…" Joe trailed off as Kent leaned forward.
He palmed Joe's crotch with his free hand and spoke softly into his ear, "To stop me slipping up, I could always call you sir when we're alone as well..." Joe froze and Kent grinned as he pulled back. "I'm kidding."
Joe huffed out a laugh, even though he wasn't a hundred percent sure Kent was just pulling his leg.
They sat in silence for a few moments, watching each other.
"Miles calls you Joe." Kent obviously wasn't going to let it go.
"Yes, but Miles is a senior officer. He's also older and more experienced than me. It's different."
"You're still his boss," Kent muttered. Joe wanted to laugh; he was certain the other man was pouting. "Anyway, it wouldn't make much of a difference if I did slip up; they already tease me about you as it is."
Joe wasn't all that surprised really, not when he thought about how obvious it was who'd influenced some of the recent changes in Kent's life. All the men had learned to take a bit more pride in their appearances since Joe's little outburst at the station, but Kent had gone one step further and taken to wearing three-piece suits on occasion. Joe knew it was wrong but he couldn't deny it gave him a small thrill whenever he came into work on a morning and saw Kent at his desk, all kitted out.
Joe had also been instrumental in Kent's decision to upgrade his mode of transport from a bicycle to a scooter, after some throwaway comment he'd made whilst giving him a lift home one night.
However, not all the changes in Kent were positive. Only last week, Miles had confided in him that he'd witnessed Kent lining up his belongings in a similar way to what Joe did. He would have to make sure he broke him of the habit before it became ingrained.
As a role model, he certainly left a lot to be desired.
The poor kid was fucked.
He honestly had no idea what Kent saw in him; there were officers far more worthy of Kent's admiration, men who were smarter and better at their jobs and who didn't find it necessary to attack a light switch before leaving a room.
Nevertheless, Kent seemed content, and he wore his heart of his sleeve so Joe was pretty certain he'd be able to tell if his feelings ever changed.
"You'd best not go adding any more fuel to the fire then, eh?" Joe said softly. "Not if we're going to give this thing a go..."
Kent's smile alone would have convinced Joe he'd made the right decision, but his cheeky comeback assured it.
"Yes, Sir."
