Chandler returns to the incident room with the intention of picking up a forgotten file and straight away he knows something is wrong. The usually busy room is devoid of people but as everyone clocked off half an hour ago and he was the last to leave, that isn't what worries him. It's the light illuminating his office which makes him feel uneasy. He's a hundred percent sure he turned it off because having to flick a switch umpteen times before the urge to repeat the action is no longer present means he wouldn't have been able to leave the building otherwise.
He checks for any sign of movement as he strides across the room with authority but also a hint of caution, passing tidy desks and empty bins that for once go unnoticed and unappreciated as he approaches the glass partition which helps to separate him from the rest of the world. There doesn't appear to be anyone there but he observes the room from outside for a few seconds just to be sure.
His office is incredibly clean (some would say unnaturally so) with a place for everything and everything in its place, just how he likes it. To anyone but him nothing would look disturbed but he finds a certain sense of security in order and routine and notices immediately that his chair is no longer facing the door which is definitely the position he left it in.
It upsets him that someone has interfered with the only place in the station he has complete control over and he suddenly feels compelled to check for other irregularities. Impulsively he pushes the door open and takes two steps inside before realising he's made a mistake, because although he can't see the other person occupying the room, the noises coming from behind his desk establish their presence.
As the door closes with barely a sound behind him, Chandler finds himself frozen in a state of shock. From the laboured breathing and familiar rhythmic sound of a hand on wet flesh, it's quite obvious that someone is pleasuring themselves in his office (in his chair!) and he has no idea what to do about it.
About five seconds of indecision pass by before it occurs to him he's basically just standing there listening to someone masturbate and as highly inappropriate as it is for them to be doing it in his office, he comes to the conclusion it would be ten times worse should he be caught witnessing the act.
He really does intend to leave the room as unobtrusively as he entered it but perverse curiosity has him taking a step closer. It's enough to discern the identity of the other man as the unmistakable dark curls of his DC come into view. Chandler's quiet intake of breath at the discovery is lost amongst the raw, throaty sounds escaping Kent's lips. He can't believe he didn't recognise him.
The nameless, faceless man of moments before who had incited nothing but indifference has been replaced by the subject of all his depraved fantasies, and now he's aware Kent is the one slouched down in his chair touching himself, it's unsettling just how quickly that knowledge arouses him.
He knows he should go now before it's too late but his feet just won't cooperate and his hand moves instinctively to the front of his trousers. Ignoring the potentially mortifying consequences, he takes advantage of his fortuitous position and closes his eyes, focusing instead on the obscene sound of Kent's belt jingling as the speed of his hand increases and the unusual way in which he seems to be breathing through his nose. It's shuddery and intense and when Kent starts moaning like he's in pain, Chandler palms himself harder and imagines it's the other man's hand rubbing against his cock, rather than his own.
As Kent cries out one final time, loud and unrestrained, Chandler stifles his own guttural moan and comes in his underwear. He continues to stroke himself lazily through the aftermath of his climax to the sound of Kent's panting as he unwinds after his own exertion, but the sudden impact of something hitting the floor causes Chandler's eyes to snap open. The object skitters across the room and comes to a halt as it hits a filing cabinet. The familiar hexagonal jar makes Chandler's heart skip a beat. He looks back in Kent's direction in shock but all he can see of the man is his arm and hand lolling over the side of the chair.
Kent had been masturbating to the smell of his Tiger Balm! The thought makes his cock twitch and for once he laments the intense nature of the ointment which is very likely masking Kent's natural scent. He feels curiously reckless and wants to call out to him but common sense prevails and he flees.
# # #
Kent is early when he comes into work the next morning but despite this, the rest of the team have arrived before him. He greets them cheerfully as he makes his way to his desk, smiling to himself as he overhears the banter that has already started up between Riley and Mansell.
He shrugs out of his jacket and is just about to hang it on the back of his chair when he catches sight of the small glass jar sitting conspicuously in the middle of his desk. He falters, releasing the material in his hands as his heart jumps into his throat. He feels sick and thinks he should probably sit down before he falls down, his eyes never leaving the evidence of his transgression the previous night as he sinks into his chair in mortification. Someone knows what he did and shame eats him up inside as he deliberates who it might be.
He's known Miles the longest out of all of them but although he's outspoken and can be a little too opinionated at times, he's always been kind to Kent. He can't imagine the man judging him or treating him any differently (other than perhaps some good-natured ribbing) but leaving the incriminating item on his desk for Kent to fret over isn't really his style.
Riley is unquestionably the best case scenario. She would no doubt tease him about it but he's certain she wouldn't tell anyone else.
Which just leaves Mansell and Kent thinks that if it's him, he may as well just go up to the station roof and throw himself off right now.
As he compels himself to look to each of his colleagues to determine which one of them knows his secret, he's not at all surprised to discover that Miles couldn't be less interested in him. Instead, he seems to be taking advantage of some rare downtime; his face a mask of concentration as he chews on the end of a pen and contemplates The Times crossword.
And Mansell is currently entertaining Riley with another one of his ridiculous anecdotes, basking in the attention as she hangs on his every word, her laughter filling the room. Neither of them are mindful of Kent's regard.
This leaves only one person. Kent swallows and tries to compose himself before looking into the eyes of the last person on earth he wanted to know his secret, but if he's honest with himself, he knew deep down it was him.
Chandler is sitting at his desk looking straight back at him. He doesn't look angry or disgusted as Kent feared he would but calm and strangely relaxed. Kent takes a deep breath to compose himself and lifts his head slightly in determination. He tunes out the others in the room and makes a conscious decision to wipe all traces of guilt from his demeanour. The embarrassment, however, is a little harder to eradicate.
There's an encouraging half-smile on Chandler's face now and he raises his eyebrows briefly as if suggesting it's Kent's move. Smiling shyly, Kent grabs the jar on his desk and makes his way to his boss's office to ascertain his fate.