BETA: None. WILL have spelling and grammar mistakes. (Please don't complain as I've just warned you.)

Sex: Finally. M/M

Swearing: None

Setting: This chapter takes place between episodes 2 & 3.

A/N: Jumping forward three months.

CHAPTER SEVEN

He didn't know if it was some kind of universal joke that Miles daughter arrived on the anniversary of their meeting, it certainly felt like it when they were all gathered in the pub wetting the baby's head, everyone getting a drunk. That wasn't what made the whole thing a joke; that was just another day in the life of Whitechapel unique crime unit. No what made the whole thing a joke was that at the end of the night, they'd found themselves back where they'd been two years ago, stumbling into his flat, hands all over each other.

The good news about Miles's daughter came at the end of another particularly disturbing case, which was old hat by now. But it had kinda hit a little too close to home for Joe and Kent, with the serial murders of five closeted gay men. They'd found the murderer with some help from Ed, but it had left both men feeling more than a little on edge. Emerson figured that was why they'd drunk more than they should have at the head wetting. And was more than likely responsible for what happened after.

Joe and Emerson had been pretty much in a silent runt since the Driscoll murders, the distance having grown between them and they weren't blind to the fact that the tension was affecting the team. Emerson had planned on going through with his original plan to ask for a transfer but had been distracted by one case after another. They still worked together like a well-oiled machine, and during a case no one would know there was anything amiss. But the tension was getting worse by the day. Even as they stood in the pub surrounded by work colleagues it was there and it was another point of blame Emerson added to the list.

"To my baby girl." Miles announced for the hundredth time.

Everyone toasted the baby and threw back their drinks, by eleven o'clock most of the unit were beyond the worst for wear; even Joe had drunk more than he would usually. They all just hoped that they weren't going to get called back to the station on a case, because none of them were fit to work. Luckily that didn't happen. Though in hindsight, may it should have.

They all rolled out at half past eleven, staggering towards cabs, wishing Miles congratulations once again. How Joe and Kent ended up sharing a cab neither of them knew, or at that time cared. They just sat in the back, listening to the driver's radio, bubbling away in the tension of their unresolved issues. When the car pulled up outside Emerson's flat they both got out, as if they'd read each other's minds. Joe paid the driver and followed Emerson up the steps where they paused to look at each other. Emerson felt his heart hammering against his ribs as he looked up into Joe's pale blue eyes.

Kent made the first move, consciously taking a step he knew he could very well end up regretting. He physically stepped forward, just slightly and wrapped a hand into Joe's thick overcoat. He waiting a moment, expecting Joe to pull away and tell him they couldn't, but Joe didn't move, back or forward, he just stood there, looking down at him, waiting. Emerson swallowed hard before closing the small gap between them. The moment their mouth's touched it was like an explosion, Joe's hands reached for him, dragging him closer, Emerson's own flying up to comb through the blond soft hair. They didn't know how the door got open, considering they couldn't stop touching each other and never broke contact. But soon they were tumbling through the open door and stumbling over one another to get up the stairs. They made their way through the flat, not caring if they were seen or heard by Emerson's flat-mates.

No sooner where they in Emerson's room than they were ripping at each other clothing, desperate to have skin to skin contact. When their blazing flesh met both men released a satisfied moan. Joe cling to it, his manicure nails digging deep into it leaving red trails and half-moons in their wake, his mouth sucking and biting at the curve of Kent's neck. It was frantic and reckless and neither wanted to acknowledge why.

Emerson wound his arms around the taller man's neck, pulling himself up against the naked form of his ex, moaning in pleasure as their painfully hard erections rubbed together. Joe wrapped his hands under the younger man's thighs, yanking him higher till Emerson wrapped his legs around the man. Joe stumbled back colliding with the bedroom door with a grunt, steadying himself he pushed away and switched their positions, pressing Kent's smaller form into the cold wood, his hands kneading at the orbs of his arse, his fingers brushing against the indentations left from his attack, the attack that had only added to the pressure that lead to their break-up. He allowed his fingers to slip between the cheeks.

Emerson took in a deep breath at the feel of the man's fingers pressing against his tightness, and released a dirty primal groan when one then another entered, all the while his hips rutting madly at Joe's tones abs. The room filled with the sound of moans and panting, and the scent of sex. When Joe was sure Emerson was as ready as he was going to be, he untangled himself from the man's limbs, lowering him to the floor and turning him to face the door. Kent braced himself against the wood with his palms flat and parted his legs. Joe looked down, seeing the dark red strips, a permanent reminder of what the junior officer had gone through and what had torn them apart. He traced them with his fingers for a moment before stepped closer, positioning himself against the cheeks.

Emerson's head felt forward for a few moments, suddenly self-conscious, Joe had never seen his scars, no one had, then it snapping back at the feel of Joe thrusting deeply into him, his hand moving around his flanks to wrap his fingers around Emerson's erection, stroking him harshly as he thrust manically into him. The younger man tried to keep himself quiet, out of respect for his flat-mates but the tension, speed and almost brutal forced of Joe's movements made that impossible. He came first yelling Joe's name and a few blasphemous words. Joe kept pounding into him, panting against his shoulder until Joe felt his body shudder and felt the warm pouring out him.

Joe's sweat coated forehead fell forward onto Emerson's shoulder, his lips pressing against the damp blazing skin. He pulled out slowly and Emerson both whimpered at the loss and sighed in relief at it. They stood for a moment catching their breath before Emerson turned to meet Joe's gaze. Neither spoke through they knew what had just happened, what it meant. It was over, really over. Kent pulled his lower swollen lip through his teeth, tears burning behind his eyes and he stood there shivering as the cold real world closed in around him. Joe stepped forward, wrapping him in his arms and pressing a kiss to his damp dark curls, Emerson's arms snaking around his waist to hold him close for a little longer, crying against his chest. Finally Joe led him to the bed, pulling back the covers and lowering him in.

"Stay." Emerson whispered pitifully.

Joe nodded and claimed in next to the younger man, pulling him close. He pressed another kiss to his head and whispered a good night.

When Emerson woke the next morning he was alone.

A/N: I wanted to get at least one romp in this story and I figured it was time for the break-up sex.