O'Malley's Bar



“We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Probably not.”

James tossed Kirk a fresh towel and sat down on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t sure what time Kirk had come in, but by his best guess, they’d been dozing for at least two hours. It was a wonder Lars hadn’t come by and pounded on the door to wake them up.

“You don’t sound very upset about it,” James muttered. Kirk raised his head and arched an eyebrow as he padded over to the sink.

“Should I be upset? We both got what we wanted.” Technically, he supposed that was true. He got to fuck Kirk, Kirk got to feel loved. So where was the problem?

“We can’t do it again.”

“Okay.” Kirk wasn’t supposed to agree that readily. He was supposed to argue. He was supposed to talk James out of his decision. Instead, he stood at the sink and soaped himself up.

“You don’t care?”

“I don’t care.”

“Is this reverse psychology?” James demanded, narrowing his eyes. Kirk laughed softly and glanced over his shoulder. Jesus, he was gorgeous…

“No. Do you want it to be?” James bristled.

“Don’t be an asshole.” Did he want it to be? Maybe. Maybe he did want Kirk to care, because that would make it all right when he started caring. James snorted. Started? Fuck that, he’d started a long time ago. There was no going back this time.

“Sorry,” Kirk said, passive but in the way that a sated panther was passive. Kirk was, at times like these, infuriatingly perfect. It made James feel big and awkward and stupid. “Did you want me to go?”

“No.”

“No?” Kirk’s eyebrow arched and James fought the impulse to slap him. You win, Hammett. Don’t fucking make me say it.

“You heard me.” There was a faint, genuine smile on Kirk’s face, and he ducked his head a little to hide it. James’s irritation evaporated.

“All right. I’ll stay.” He shuffled back across the room and slid hesitantly into James’s lap. After a moment, James slipped an arm around his waist. It felt good there, until Kirk looked at him expectantly.

“I’m not going to say it.”

“I know.”

“Okay, then.” Kirk’s lips curved against James’s neck, and James knew he’d been had. Strangely enough, the thought didn’t bother him at all.


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