Title: "Open and Shut" 1/1

Author: Mala

Rating/Classification: R for language, sexual content. Booker/Ioki, slash, filler scene.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my fantasy.

Summary: 425 words. Takes place during season three's "Swallowed Alive," but can stand alone since there's really not much plot specificity here. (Plot? What plot?)

He didn't know Ioki could blush, but as he stands up quickly and starts scrubbing himself efficiently with the bar of cheap, industrial soap, there's a distinct pink tinge all over. The tips of his… ears. Total giveaway. The hoots and catcalls from the far wall continue and Dennis hisses, "Fuck 'em," shoving Harry against the tile and as much out of view as possible.

Gigs like this, they've got to suck for Ioki. The man showers twice a day, wears 200 suits, and is always the first to get whatever new techie toy has hit the market. 'Preppie' would be the basic word for it. 'Fastidious' the SAT one. But Dennis knows it's more than that. Harry is private, insanely private, and he's fought hard for that privacy. He came thousands of miles, across the ocean, for it. Booker heard about how nobody knew the guy was Vietnamese until just last year. He goes his whole life hiding who he really is, only to end up bare-assed, letting it all hang out, in front of a bunch of punks.

Booker swears again, "fuck," and steps so he's completely shielding his partner as he washes the last of the suds from his body. They both try to pretend Harry's hands aren't shaking. Their eyes lock and he hopes that Harry knows none of this is going to matter on the outside. Once this case is closed, this is forgotten. But he can tell by the way his Adam's apple moves, by the way Harry's breathing, that the message isn't quite getting across. It's instinct to grab Harry's hand, to squeeze it.

Unfortunately, Harry's hand happens to be at roughly waist-level at the time.

The rush of blood to his head drowns out the sound of renewed wolf whistles. Suddenly, all he can hear is Harry's gasp. All he can see is his own face reflected in Harry's pupils.

"Dennis... they're going to think we're…"

"Queer? So let 'em." He shrugs.

It's nothing that hasn't been thought about him before. Nothing he hasn't done before just to get by.

Ioki stares at him for a long time. Probably only fifteen seconds, but it feels longer. And then all of a sudden, it's Booker's back smacking against the cold tiles. The soap bounces, forgotten, against the drain, and there's a wet hand wrapping around his cock. Definitely not his own, though he's not averse to jerking off in a communal shower. "Fuck 'em," Harry whispers, before he kisses him.

Dennis blushes. He didn't know he still could.

--end--

March 27, 2008