Title: A bit of rain never hurt anybody…
Author: Claddagh
Pairing: Chandler/Kent
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV's. Never mine.
Summary: Kent hates the rain.
When Kent walked into the office, his helmet under his arm and his entire body drenched in water, three pairs of eyes immediately turned to him, two of which looked highly amused at his current appearance, while the third was an odd mixture of surprised , sympathetic and exasperated.
The DC silently walked to his desk, his clothes sticking uncomfortably to his body, the material cold against his skin, making Goosebumps erupt along the pale flesh. He bend down and tucked his helmet under his desk as he usually did, droplets of water falling from his curls into his eyes and down his face with his movement. Then he stood and glanced at each of the three men also in the incident room. Mansell was the first to release his amusement, letting out a high pitched chuckle that he'd obviously been trying to hold in since Kent had walked in.
"Oh Kent! Did you forget your coat?" Mansell laughed, looking up and down the sodden form of the youngest member of the team.
Kent pursed his lips and glared out the window at the wet London streets that were meant to be in the middle of summer, however anyone who had spend a year in England knew that the summer was more often than not, just like the winter; wet, cold and unpredictable. The rain still lashed down against the pavements outside and the window of the incident room, making it impossible to actually see out of the glass, while a flash of lightening periodically split the sky, followed quickly by the rumble of thunder, both of which only added to the miserable English weather.
"It wasn't raining when I left the house." Kent snapped. "It was sunny! So I didn't bother with my coat."
At this point Chandler came out of his office and looked the young man up and down, sadly taking in the drenched suit, especially the white shirt that was now completely see-through, clinging tightly to the young man's torso. Actually, the whole outfit was now plastered like a second skin to Kent's flesh, revealing every contour and line of the young man's body.
Chandler had to look away.
"That's why you should invest in a car lad, not that prissy scooter." Miles deadpanned, holding in his mirth at the young man's indignant look and gasp at the insult of his Vespa. Miles and Mansell wouldn't let this perfect opportunity to make fun of the lad go when it was sitting right in front of them. Their moment was cut short however when Kent emptied everything out of his pockets, placing them on his desk then turned to walk out of the incident room.
"I'm gonna go and attempt to dry my clothes."
Chandler watched the young man slink his way out of the office, turning his nose up as a small trail of water was left on the floor behind the DC, whose body was still dripping wet, before Chandler also left the incident room, giving the DS and DC no explanation as to why or where he was going.
Kent groaned as he pulled off his sodden suit jacket and laid it across one of the sinks, as well as his tie, leaving him in just his shirt. He then pulled the white material so it came un-tucked from his trousers and slowly began to undo the buttons, his fingers fumbling from the hardness of the buttons against his cold hands. He'd managed to undo half of them but one particularly stubborn button had him giving up his plight and instead, sighing, picked up his jacket and held it under the barely working hand dryer, appreciating the warmth of the hot air being blasted from the machine.
"This could take a while, stupid sodding rain." He muttered to himself, his entire body shivering as the wet white shirt still clung heavily to his body.
"You'll get ill wearing those wet clothes for too long."
Kent spun around at the quiet voice and sighed in relief when he saw that it was DI Chandler standing at the door of the toilets, as impeccably dressed as ever.
The young man laughed quietly. "That may be sir, but I'm not gonna stand naked in the station's public toilets. I'd rather get ill!" He joked, turning his jacket over so the hot air could begin to dry the other side.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Chandler smile as he walked forward, until he was right next to the young man.
"Here." the DI offered, holding out a blanket that Kent hadn't noticed he'd been holding until just then.
He took it after only a moments hesitation. "Sir, where did you get this?"
"My car." He stated simply. It was then that Kent spotted the rain spots on the shoulders of Chandlers suit jacket, proving that he'd indeed been out in the dreadful weather to get the blanket.
Kent unfolded the soft blue textile and wrapped it around his shoulders. "Thank you Sir." He then finished unbuttoning his shirt and peeled the material from his skin, with the blanket still around him, keeping him warm and absorbing the moisture that still lingered on his flesh..
Too occupied with the shivering of his own body he didn't notice how Chandler's eyes flickered over his naked chest, just for a second, before the older man took the sopping wet shirt from Kent's fingers and held it under the dryer himself.
"Sir you don't need to do that-"
"No I don't. But I can't have one of my DC's sitting at his desk soaking wet now, can I?" Chandler reasoned, still facing the hand dryer, his voice slightly louder to be heard over the machine, with his back to Kent.
The young man couldn't help but smile at Chandler using the word 'my' to describe him (well, technically he was describing the whole team as his, but Kent preferred to think that it was just referring to him). He liked the idea of belonging to Chandler, if only in a professional sense.
They didn't speak for a few minutes after that, Chandler continued to hold the white shirt under the hand dryer and Kent drew the blanket tighter around his torso, feeling ever so slightly self conscious standing topless in front of his boss. Chandler felt just as anxious, wanting to help the young man, but finding it difficult to be so close to Kent, seeing his bare flesh, without touching him.
It was torture.
Once the shirt was mostly dry, save for a few small patches that were still damp, like the double layered cuffs, Chandler draped it over the sink, next to the suit jacket, before picking up the other wet piece of clothing and repeating the same process as before.
At this Kent moved forward and gently gripped a handful of the damp suit jacket fabric. "Sir, really, you don't need to-"
Inadvertently Kent's movement caused the back of Chandler's fingers to brush the smooth skin of the young man's chest, where the blanket hung open, draped over his shoulders. Kent froze at the warm touch, while Chandler jerked his hand away, almost dropping the suit jacket in the process.
"S-sorry sir…" he mumbled, stepping away slightly.
Chandler didn't reply and just stared at the young man, his lips slightly parted and his eyes flickering restlessly over the pale form in front of him. For that split second he'd felt how soft and warm the DC's skin was. So much more than he'd ever imagined, and as Kent looked up at him nervously, his eyes wide and his curls falling over his forehead from where the rainwater had loosened the gel, he couldn't stop himself from putting the suit jacket on the sink, and moving closer to the DC.
Kent didn't move away, nor did he protest as Chandler stopped directly in front of him and extended a hand. However his breath did hitch slightly the moment Chandler's fingers touched his chest, the caress so soft that he could have been convinced it was only the blanket wrapped around him brushing his skin, and not the DI.
After a few seconds Joe grew bold, his touch slightly more firm, his fingers exploring the young man's chest, before moving upwards, to brush the prominent collarbone, smiling slightly as he felt Kent shiver, but he didn't think it was from the cold. His breathing was much heavier now, the feeling of Chandler's skin on his own invoking the inevitable reaction. He sighed as the fingers travelled up his neck, pausing a the pulse point under his chin, before gently cupping his chin, the thumb softly swiping over his lips, feeling the young man's breath caress the digit.
Chandler watched fascinated as a droplet of water fell from one of the limp, dark curls that was plastered to Kent's forehead. He watched avidly as the moisture made it's way down the side of the young DC's face, until he softly wiped it away with his thumb.
Then he slowly leaned in, unable to control himself any longer, with the pale and slight form of Emerson Kent half naked and exposed in front of him, looking up at him with his big brown trusting eyes. He was surprised he'd been able to control himself this long.
He moved forward until their noses were touching and their lips were mere millimetres away. For a few seconds they stayed that way, their eyes still half open, looking at the other man, their breath mingling, Joe's thumb still gently stoking the corner of the pale lips.
In the end it was Kent who closed the miniscule gap between their lips, pressing his own to Joe's so softly that the contact was barely there, but both men keenly felt it. Kent shivered again and gripped the blanket tightly. Joe's hand moved from cupping Kent's jaw to thread through his damp curls, pulling the young man closer.
Just as they began to press their lips together more tightly, deepening the mere brush of lips into a real kiss a huge clap of thunder broke the near silence, the sound coming in from the tiny, slightly open window high above their heads, near the ceiling. The noise was loud enough for Kent to pull his lips away with a small gasp and look to the window, the heavy rain still lashing the glass.
He slowly turned back to face Chandler, who had an odd look on his face, happy, but nervous at the same time.
"I'm glad I didn't wear my coat today Sir."
Both men smiled widely at this; for once the typical ugly British weather had led to something beautiful.