Bobby Fulbright had been partners with Simon Blackquill since he was a young prosecutor. He was the detective on nearly every single case that Blackquill prosecuted on. Somewhere along the line, he stopped calling him 'Prosecutor Blackquill' and just called him 'Simon'. Blackquill himself only called him 'detective' or jokingly 'old man'. Usually at work, it was Mr. Simon and Detective Fulbright. But when they had lunch together, it was much less formal between the both of them.
Bobby treasured any and every moment that Simon called him Bobby. It was something that the young prosecutor didn't do often.
Of course, those moments were precious due to the attraction the detective felt towards Simon. It wasn't sudden, it was gradual. He found himself in a good mood after seeing Simon, he enjoyed work more than before, over all he was happy. But there were moments where their eyes would meet, and Bobby would fluster. Simon would suddenly turn his head, sometimes with a hmph. Fleeting moments, awkward accidental grabbing of each others hands, brushing by each other. Longer lunches, suddenly going out for dinner.
Then, all at once, it came crashing down. A dinner that went on for too long and felt too awkward, turned into Simon coming over for the night, seeing as he lived somewhat far from the restaurant. Bobby fiddled with the keys, his mind racing. This was an innocent invite! He didn't want to make his friend have to travel this late at night!
"Well, this is my little apartment." Bobby turned to his partner, who was looking around curiously. It was a fairly big apartment, big enough for a single man. "You can sleep in my room. I can take the couch." Fulbright spoke, grabbing Simon's attention.
As soon as the two of them stepped into the room, the dam broke. It was Simon who started it. He crashed his lips onto Fulbright's, pushing him back onto the bed. Shirts were ripped off, thrown onto the floor. Not a word spoken for a fair amount of time. It was simply both parties letting out what was inside. No going the whole mile, no, the both of them wouldn't be able to. It would be wrong. Wordlessly, they lay next to each other, silent for what felt like hours.
"How long." Simon broke the everlasting silence, his body next to the detective's. He turned his head to face Bobby.
"...I'm not sure." Bobby spoke, looking from the ceiling to Simon. "Maybe, a few months."
"You never said anything Old Man." Simon let a light chuckle escape his lips.
"Well neither did you." Fulbright shook his head.
"Silence is golden, Bobby." Blackquill responded, nestling his head into the crook of Fulbright's neck.
The detective let a smile onto his face. Sometimes, it really was.