"You know, I don't think Alaska would have sharks."

Mario groaned, raising a hand to his head with a sigh while Jim brought him his coat. "You're still doing this?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" he asked coyly, handing it over with a smirk.

Mario slipped his arms into the sleeves and shrugged the material over his shoulders, "Not think about my honeymoon plans with your ex girlfriend?"

"Ah, but that's no fun. I have to get a rise out of you somehow."

"You're ridiculous." Mario huffed, and put his hand on the doorknob, "Thank you for letting me stay here last night."

Jim laughed, "You're kidding right? Thank you for staying... and for the other thing."

Mario smirked, "Right. The other thing. Don't get yourself hurt at work for the next few days and maybe it'll happen again."

Jim smiled, following him to the door, "I'd like that. I'll just tell all the criminals to keep their mitts off for a few days. I'm sure they'll understand."

Mario snorted from the hall, Jim propped up against the doorframe, "Just don't intentionally put yourself into shitty situations and we'll call it square."

"I was always more of a circle guy, myself."

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"You're right, but I really should." Mario grinned and waved over his shoulder, "Bye, Jim."

"Later, Mario."

When Mario made it to the front steps of his house, the one he currently shared with Lee Thompkins, he hesitated before turning the key in the lock.

She wasn't home.

Mario wasn't exactly disappointed.

He fixed himself a drink, a shot or two of whiskey in his glass before he sat down on the couch with a sigh. "What am I doing?" he asked himself, and took a grumbling sip of self hate.

He'd actually enjoyed his time with Jim, even the other thing... actually,especially the other thing. He'd liked that far more than he thought he would. Not only would he be okay with doing it again, Mario was excited to. He was already imagining the kinds of things they could try, maybe less limited forms of punishment... maybe some bondage. He'd always been a fan of bondage, even though Lee was always a little hesitant about it in bed. She'd never enjoyed it nearly as much as he had, on the giving or receiving end.

Jim would.

Jim's gaspy breaths and elated groans had been such a pleasant sound to Mario's ears, he almost felt ashamed. It wasn't cheating, even if it may have felt like it. His responding lust felt like it.

Not only did Lee know it was happening, but she'd given the okay. They weren't sleeping together, it was just an exchange of... whatever. Pain, pleasure, either/or. It was for Jim to get better, to help his mental health and keep him from serious self inflicted injuries. It was to help Jim.

So Mario shouldn't be getting off on it.

The orgasm wasn't Mario's issue. Someone else's bodily reaction wasn't his problem. That didn't make him a cheater and it didn't make him unfaithful to Lee in any way.

But it did make him wonder...

Mario had liked it too much. He'd gotten drunk on the power that came from their exchange and been almost as high as Jim after watching him cum in his pants like a wound up teenager. He wanted to see it again, admittedly. Images of Jim straining on the couch, back arched, grinding against Mario's chest and begging for release plagued his brain with devious intent. Jim had been panting and groaning like that for Mario.

Because of Mario.

The more he thought about it, the more Mario wanted it. He wanted to see more of Jim's desperate writhing, wanted to hear him beg for it-because he knew Jim would. Jim would do it happily, even.

Mario groaned in spite of himself, peeking down at the slowly growing tent in his pants with unease.

He really shouldn't. He shouldn't be getting off on the idea of dominating Jim Gordon.

...But he did.

Mario pulled himself out of his pants on autopilot, hissing when his cold fingers touched his warm length. He let his eyes close, and focused on those bright, flickering images in his mind. Jim's gasp, the writhe, the moan, the way he'd panted out Mario's name and begged...

It didn't take long to get close, just thinking about the little taste he'd gotten to see. It had been erotic, despite his self-musings and attempted denial, to work Jim up to that point. He wanted to do it again, watch it all again, see more.

Mario's hand worked faster, up and down the shaft with a tight fist. He was right there, needed one more little shove-

Mario imagined Jim fucking himself on Mario's fingers, how tight he might be, how much louder those little moans he'd heard would become when he fucked him. He imagined biting down on Jim's neck again, this time from behind, leaving a huge mark on his skin, one that would be visible to everyone at the station. A mark of claim and dominance.

He came in a couple short, strong bursts, a groan punched out of him in a short breath.

Fuck.

That was what he wanted? He wanted to claim Gordon? How fucking conceited of him, maybe twisted was the better word for it.

Mario sighed as the remnants of his post-orgasm high quickly left him, leaving only the dread of what he'd just done. He'd just jerked off to the idea of Jim fucking Gordon. His fiance's ex, the man who should be his enemy or at least his competitor. He'd gotten off to the idea of dominating him, of making him Mario's-claiming him, Jesus!

Mario reached over to grab up his abandoned drink, downed the entire thing with a wince, and stood up to fix himself another before he could return to the thoughts of a writhing Jim Gordon.

They met up many more after that. They tried new things most of the time, implements bought from the internet, something Jim found in the store that looked like fun, even household items that definitely weren't intended for how Jim and Mario used them. Mario would hit him, spank him, flog him, whatever the night called for, then stick around to take care of him and talk him down. He put cream over welts, sometimes sanitized little cuts where hits broke skin, and was always sure to check for any major injury.

Jim never used his safeword, never really needed it, and Mario made it a point to learn his reactions because of it.

He got used to Jim's little tell-tale twitches and learned what each different sound meant after being dragged out from his throat.

Usually they met up to play at Jim's encouragement, shooting Mario a text and admitting he'd had a horrible day and just needed some relief, but sometimes it was Mario, after having not spoken with Lee for a few consecutive days, feeling lonely and willing to hit some things.

Luckily Jim was more than willing to supply an outlet.

Lee and Mario's schedules started to overlap in ways that left one at home while the other was out, or only able to catch each other as one was headed out the door. She took extra hours at the GCPD and Mario tried not to notice. He agreed to more overtime than he originally would have, and she didn't say a word. They didn't text more than a handful of times over a few weeks.

Hey. I miss you.

Work was a clusterfuck today.

We need milk.

I won't be home until tomorrow. Remember to lock the door after you go.

My mother wants to pick up her pie dish, I won't be home.

We need eggs.

Don't get eggs. I'm going to start eating breakfast at the diner.

I don't need dinner.

Hey.

Hey.

I think I might have two hours free on Tuesday for a lunch.

I won't be free at all Tuesday.

Hey.

We need milk.

Mario turned to Jim. He was starting to feel a little pushed away and needed to know that he was still wanted. Jim still wanted him around.

Jim was more than happy to have him over. Sometimes they played, sometimes they just sat on the couch and watched the news. A few times James had even brought up a couple of his cases, discussing the difficulties he was having and every now and then poking Mario for some advice. That bit had surprised him the most, that Jim trusted him enough to really get into some of his casework and even ask for his opinion.

Of course, he shouldn't have been all that surprised. Jim trusted him enough to tie him down and hit him with a belt, why not a little chatter?

"I just want to know why they edit it to have so little actual shark footage." Jim said, seating beside Mario on the couch, knees touching and Mario's arm over the back behind his head, "It's really just a lot of guys sitting around in boats, you know?"

Mario laughed, "You can show me all the documentaries you want, but it won't cure my fear, Jim."

Jim snorted, and scooted in a little closer, "Well, you can't blame a guy for trying."

Mario smiled, noting the lesser space between them and not caring to mention it. He nodded towards the popcorn bowl on Jim's other side, "Feel like sharing?"

He smirked, "I dunno, doctor." and lifted the bowl onto his lap, within Mario's reach, "I'm pretty hungry."

"Keep it then." Mario said, but tapped Jim's other shoulder with his finger one, light and fleeting.

Jim, bless his heart, actually turned his head. Mario grabbed a fistful and brought it over into his own lap before popping one into his mouth with a smug smile.

"I can't believe I fell for that."

"I can't either. You're a detective."

Jim grinned, "I guess I've got to work on that. The unsuspecting detective and the doctor that hurts people, aren't we a pair?"

"I don't hurt people," Mario said, and nudged his arm, "I hurt you, and you ask for it," he smirked, "Sometimes you even beg, real prettily."

Leaning over coyly, Jim looked up at him from under his lashes, a cocky little smirk on his lips, "Prettily, huh?"

"You know it, don't even pretend."

He shrugged, still smiling, "Maybe. It's nice to hear you say so though."

"I compliment you plenty." Mario huffed, and ate a little more of his tiny popcorn puddle.

"You do, but I'm a sucker for praise."

Mario grinned sinfully, "Oh, I know. You came all over your bedspread after I called you a good boy."

"You spanked me within in inch of my life then told me to jerk myself off. Forgive me for having a sex drive." Jim huffed, pouting around his next bite, eyes trained defiantly on the TV screen.

"We agreed, no sex, Jim." Mario snorted, "You knew that, day one. Don't pout because I won't take my dick out when we play."

Jim squirmed a little in his seat, "But you let me get off. You get to see me naked."

"It's not meant to be sexual."

"I repeat, you let me get off. Sometimes you even tell me to."

"Allow me to rephrase, it's not meant to be sexual for me." Mario sighed, not too frustrated, but enough to feel an itch in the hand he uses to discipline Jim, "We do this so that you get what you need."

Jim clicked the TV off and tossed the remote onto the coffee table, turning where he sat to bodily face Mario, leg up on the couch and popcorn bowl set aside, "What about what you need?"

Mario frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"What are you getting out of this? Besides maybe a beer or breakfast in the morning?"

Mario looked down at Jim's barefoot, he had a habit of curling his toes when he was frustrated and Mario wanted to properly gauge his reactions. It was his job after all, ever since they started this. "I don't need anything Jim. Beer and eggs are fine."

Ah. There it was. Jim's toes curled.

"I want to give you something. You spend hours here afterword, taking care of me or just hanging around to make sure. It's all entirely one sided. Maybe you don't need anything, but I need to give you something in return."

Mario pressed his lips together, lifting his eyes to Jim's, looking at his pleading expression, "I like just doing this, Jim. I like getting to relax here. I set aside real time to do that because of you. I enjoy just sitting here and watching TV, eating popcorn. I get to make fun of your commentary. I get your companionship out of it."

Jim blinked, obviously surprised, "My companionship?"

"Is that enough?"

He looked down, "Okay. If that's really all you want."

Anything else I want I just can't ask for.

"It is." he said instead, "I love doing this. Almost as much as I like spanking you to tears."

Jim snorted, and started to relax, laying back against the other end of the couch and lifting his feet up to put in Mario's lap, "And you say you're not a sadist."

Mario grinned, and watched the popcorn bowl move well out of reach but felt no real need to complain, "You bring it out in me."

Jim smiled, and handed Mario the remote, "You pick what we watch. I'm bored with Shark Week anyway."

Mario took it gratefully with the hand that had been previously settled over the back of the couch. He flipped through a few channels before settling, and let his arm fall until his hand rested in his lap, just over Jim's legs.

His phone chimed a few minutes later, a text from Lee. He fished it out of his pocket regretfully, holding Jim's legs to his thighs with the other hand so that he wouldn't dislodge him, and thumbed in his passcode.

I'll be home tonight.

He frowned, understanding that she was trying to offer him an olive branch here. The thing was, Mario wasn't interested anymore. He was having fun here with Jim, and he was sure that if he went, not only would he disappoint Jim, but he'd only be coming home to a bitter, stiff attempt at reconciliation. The rest of his night would be terse and probably quiet. He didn't want that.

Mario didn't need that.

He lifted his head, "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Yeah, of course." Jim smiled, "Keeping an eye on me after that awesome new toy?"

Mario honestly hadn't been thinking of that. They'd used some new things tonight, sure, but he hadn't gone hard and Jim was as perky as ever. He was confident that he could leave and Jim would be fine with a check up text in the morning... but that would make the perfect excuse. He'd shared some details with Lee about their encounters, an exercise of trust. Of course, he hadn't shared everything for the sake of Jim's privacy, but she knew enough. He could tell her about the new toy and she probably wouldn't blink an eye.

"Yeah." he said, and sent his return text.

I'm staying at Jim's. We used a cane tonight, new implement. I want to stick around to make sure he's okay.

Mario stopped waiting for the reply after the second hour, and let Jim sweep him away into the bedroom to lie down, sleep with strong arms around his waist in comfort, and forget all about it.

Lee came to visit him at his work two days later.

Mario hadn't seen her since their fight, just before he'd left to see Jim. He hadn't had the chance to talk about it with her, but now that he did, he was nervous beyond belief... maybe even scared.

Her heels clicked along the hard, tile flooring of the hospital as she strode up to him. There was something in her eyes that startled him, a deep rooted confidence and determination that, whenever he saw it, seemed to spell out trouble. He smiled politely towards her, pushing off from the nurse's station to properly greet her, "Lee. Good to see you."

It wasn't.

"Mario," she said curtly, "Can we talk?"

Fuck.

"Yeah, sure." he turned towards one of the nurses with a kind smile, "Hold my calls for a moment? I'll try to be quick."

The nurse nodded, flashing him an equally subdued smile before fiddling with something on the computer. Mario looked to Lee, jerked his head in the direction of a private room and lead the way to discretion. She followed silently. Her face was tight.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Mario asked casually after the door had shut, "It couldn't have waited until tonight?"

Her eyes narrowed, "We're never there at the same time anymore, it seems. This was quicker."

Mario frowned, "Quicker?"

"I didn't want to drag anything out anymore." Lee replied, and looked down at her hands where they were wringing together, "You were right, Mario."

Mario followed the movement, lifting his eyes only to stare at her, confused, "Okay... what about?"

She sighed, a shaky little breath that showed how nervous she was, maybe sad even, and Mario felt it coming even before he saw her slip his engagement ring off of her finger.

He didn't let himself say anything, letting her bring his hand closer to her own, and pushing it into his palm.

"I do still love him. I don't think I'll ever stop. Some part of me will always love Jim Gordon and that's... it's not fair to you, or to him, or to any of us."

Mario blinked, her hand retracting and her legs shifting back, like she was already trying to run away, "Lee-"

"I think it's clear I don't have a place here anymore." she said, "You two... it's a much better fit. I think you really... bring something out in each other. I can see it. It's not fair of me to hold you back just because I'm a little jealous."

"Lee, you don't have to be-"

"No, I know. I'm sure if we tried, we could work this out. I just don't think that's what I want anymore."

"Lee-"

"Your... connection with him is still sort of new, but Mario, I saw him yesterday." she sighed, wistfully, and lifted her chin to smile at him, "At the precinct. We had coffee together and he looked so much better than he did a month ago. What you two do, it really helps him. I couldn't have ever..."

"That doesn't mean you have to leave, Lee."

"I could also see that he really cares for you, Mario." she retorted, maybe a little bitter, "You two need the room to grow right now, and I still care for you, our relationship is holding all three of us back. We don't love each other the way we thought he did. As cliche as it is, I think we're better off as friends."

He scoffed, and his fist clenched around the ring, "...You should still keep this. We could take a break and just-"

"Mario." she said, pointedly, stern, like trying to convince a child of the reasons they should eat their vegetables, "I know you know that it's over. I'm not going to take all the blame for this breakup just so that you feel better about yourself."

Mario glared at the floor. He knew she was right. It was time and this ending had been coming for a while... but it still hurt. A little part of him still wanted to try and offer the olive branch, and he wanted her to squash that for him. He wanted Lee to make him feel like his evolving relationship (and at this point, yes, it was a relationship, there was nothing else to call it) with Jim wasn't the straw to topple the scales. He'd been just as much a part of this as her.

"I'll send for my things later, but I'm going to leave tomorrow." she said, no longer interested in waiting for his retort, "Gotham... it's too dark. This place crushes dreams and makes people into horrible things. I need to go. You can keep the coffee table, you always liked it far more than I did."

Mario waited until the door clicked shut behind her, until he was alone, to let out a breath and a hollow, dead laugh. He never loosened his grip around the ring, but with the fist he had coiled to hold it, Mario broke whatever was within reach, punched the wall, and held it to his face with hurt frustration as he sunk to the floor.