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Scott’s yacht maybe wasn’t the best place to be getting into disagreements with Scott himself, just maybe. Tango would agree with that, sure. But Scott was just such a disagreeable guy. There was not an ounce of blood in Tango’s body that liked Scott, frankly.
Okay. So that wasn’t entirely true. On occasion, Tango could be neutral about him. Scott threw nice parties, he played a mean poker game when he wanted to, he fed Tango’s need to socialize outside of his main circle of people sometimes. When he wasn’t being a jackass.
Scott was often a jackass.
On this night it was Tango’s fault, he supposed, to be fair. It was just so fun to watch Scott’s face slowly morph into a sneer while Tango beat him at their latest card game, Gin Rummy, and it was simply too fun to point it out to Scott. Maybe a little mean, but when Scott was the one starting the new match every round, Tango couldn’t help but gloat a little bit.
This was how he found himself with his back pressed into the yacht railing and Martyn holding his weight up by his chin. His arm was just slightly too short for his hand to catch the railing. He felt Martyn’s grip on his jaw loosen marginally and took an instinctual breath as he slipped over the side and into the water. Impulse shouting his name was the only thing he heard as he tried not to panic.
Tango couldn’t swim. This was a factual statement his brain decided to loop in his mind as his limbs flailed in water so dark, he could only make out the yacht because of the lights through the sting of saltwater. It didn’t feel like he was getting anywhere and despite understanding how to propel himself in water in theory, in practice he was like a piece of paper. He didn’t sink like a rock, but he’d never been able to figure out how to go anywhere in the water. This was bad, seeing as his arm wasn’t long enough to breach the surface of the water, and what little progress he was making was getting set back by the waves.
He bobbed back and forth, ineffectively kicking his legs and arms, fighting as much as he could to claw his way up through something that moved through his fingers like butter. His eyes burned. The yacht seemed to be getting further away. Something collided with Tango’s side and a yelp of pure panic let go of the air he’d managed to take in.
Air is what made the panic subside, and through the blur he was pretty sure he was looking at Impulse. “Etho!” Impulse’s voice shouted, confirming Tango’s suspicion. He heaved air into his body and started to hack violently against Impulse’s shoulder while they were pulled back on board by an entirely silent crew and one of their other partners.
Tango couldn’t bring himself to stand, knelt over on the deck of the yacht coughing up one of his lungs. Somebody’s hand, likely Etho’s, smacked his spine to help him out, rubbing small circles in his back in between. With one last big heave, his coughs died out into small little chokes, his body becoming aware of a soreness around his jaw. Martyn was squeezing hard to hold up his weight before he dropped him.
He was aware of Impulse shouting Skizz’s name, and in his peripheral saw the two stumbling back. Martyn was crumpled against a wall, an enraged look on his face while his nose bled freely. Tango felt a little smirk come to his face, something all for him, before another little cough wiped it away. It never stopped being at least a little satisfying seeing him get punched in the face.
“Are you feeling better?” Etho asked. In a sense. Tango managed the deepest breath he’d gotten as he straightened out. Scott glanced at them between long periods of staring at Martyn, and he seemed quite satisfied with himself. A smarmy part of Tango wanted to knock it off his face.
“We should go home,” Etho said, standing and pulling Tango up with him. His height helped to lift Tango’s weight, which did not necessarily want to follow. Tango wanted to keep coughing on Scott’s yacht until he threw up the seawater he swallowed, just to spite him.
“Maybe Scott should keep better control of his mutt-“ Tango spit out, wiping his mouth as Scott shrugged from his position reclined on a deck chair.
“Do you really think I control him?” He was too confident for Tango’s liking, a drink in his hand and his sunglasses on despite it being well past midnight. Etho’s tug on his shoulder fought off any more bite Tango had in him.
---
Water dripped off Tango and soaked into the car seat as their chauffeur started the engine. Impulse’s leg was stretched out, purposely pressing his ankle into Tango’s. His jaw was set hard as he stared out the car window and chewed on nothing. Skizz and Etho whispered to each other, their shared window down.
Tango wished they’d taken the SUV. He wouldn’t be sat face to face and fighting off the want to shiver like a dog that hadn’t been toweled off. Scott swore he didn’t have any to lend, though all their eyes were on the well-stocked closet, door wide open. Martyn stood in front of it and dabbed at his nose with the plush fabric. They all quietly agreed to let it go.
And now he was here, in an air-conditioned car, no one looking at him. He couldn’t decide if it was on purpose or not. His fingers balled up in the fabric of his pants, one loose and baggy now heavy to his skin. He wanted a change of clothes.
It took Tango a moment to realize Skizz and Etho stopped muttering to each other, Etho leaning into Skizz’s side and practically in his lap. The three of them could sit closer, but then there was no avoiding Tango’s clothes getting them wet. Impulse was alone on his bench.
“Talk to me Top,” Skizz said, a frown on his lips. His voice spooked Tango, a sharp intake of breath and his hand closing in front of him. He opened his mouth, unsure of what to say.
“You just can’t stop getting into trouble!” It was Impulse who spoke next, with enough force that everyone else in the car leaned back. Tango saw Skizz’s hand start immediately rubbing soothing circles into Etho’s elbow. “All the time, every time, you get yourself into some shit and then expect one of us to get you out of it. Tango I’m sick of it!”
Tango blinked, trying to recover from the bomb of emotion that just went off in the car. There was something like rage on Impulse’s face, but it was too loving. “I was fine,” Tango tried in argument.
“You can’t swim. I had to dive in and pull you up! What if no one was here and Scott didn’t feel like pulling you back on board, huh? What if that had happened and they left you to drown in the ocean! We wouldn’t have even known what happened-“ Impulse’s voice was angry, and harsh, and Tango felt the familiar bubbles of anger starting to form under his skin. But Impulse’s voice cracked, too, and he was taking deep breaths to keep it together.
Tango couldn’t help the way his hand twinged, his brain violently slamming around in his skull as he fought to defend himself. “I only did what I always do! You’ve never complained about it before!” he shouted louder than he meant to, already loud in general, his nose cringing upwards as he registered his volume.
“Yes, I do! All the time! Is it so shocking that I would beg my husband not to get himself killed?” Impulse’s breathing shook in the air of the car as Skizz reached out, putting his hand between them both to catch their attention.
“…I think you both need to catch your breath,” His voice was low, rattling with the road, as he glanced between them. The tone of seriousness was not lost on Tango. He felt his lip warble on his face, and he scrunched the whole thing up in anger to keep it from spilling to tears.
“Don’t tell me what to do. I can handle myself,” he hissed. His anger was misdirected, and Skizz’s lack of flinch reflected that. Tango tucked himself into the door, arms crossed, letting his body shiver. Maybe it would look like he was shaking in rage instead.
His mind replayed the conversation, replayed every version of it. Tried every possible way for it to happen. Tried to find some way to make Tango the victor, to make Tango right, and his anger curdled as he couldn’t figure it out. His chest ached and he grit his teeth to deal with it, pointedly ignoring the way he could feel Impulse staring. His throat felt tight and he coughed to clear it, not turning his head from the window. The glass in front of him fogged up a bit.
The drive home was nothing but Tango arguing with himself in silence, Skizz and Etho muttering to each other, and Impulse staring. Tango couldn’t stand it. He simultaneously wanted to scream and cry, anything where he wasn’t wearing the blame. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew it. But god, couldn’t he just be pissed off at Scott? There was a logical part of his brain that was arguing for Impulse’s side of things, and he physically stretched his hand out as though to squash it down.
“Tango?” Impulse’s tone was stoic. Quieter than it had been earlier. Tango took a deep breath in and didn’t respond. He felt like if he opened his mouth now, a knot of thread would spit out of it and make things worse. It didn’t help Tango was sure, soon enough, Scott would be texting to gloat.
The city passed the car by and swaddled it as their chauffeur pulled to the front of their building. Skizz and Etho slid out, but Tango refused to move until Impulse did. He almost fell as Impulse opened their door; his weight leaned into it entirely. Eye contact came to him by accident, and he inhaled sharply and looked away from where Impulse waited, holding the door open.
Tango scooted to the other door and climbed out to follow Skizz and Etho, though he did not follow them to the door. Impulse and he shut the doors at nearly the same time and then he heard the car start up and go on to the garage below the building. Impulse’s presence was something he could feel without looking.
“I… was worried. You were under the water for a long time…” He said softly. His voice held the tone of explanation, but not regret or remorse that Tango wanted to hear. The fact that he didn’t deserve it held no weight as he felt the anger flare back up.
“Do you have the keys to the SUV,” it wasn’t a question, Tango’s arms crossed over his chest. The night air was chilled just enough to make Tango shiver. There was a silence behind him, but he heard Impulse looking for something and then felt the car keys knock into his shoulder.
They split, Impulse following Skizz and Etho into the safety of the apartment and Tango ducking towards the garage. He could have a valet get the car, he should have a valet get the car, but anger made him a stubborn man. He knew where it was parked, where all their cars were parked, and his footsteps echoed.
The private casino hotel room awaited Tango, a place for him to take the space he needed. He knew what his partners were like when he was inflated like this. He couldn't take the disappointment.
His mouth let out steam like a teapot as he climbed into the driver's seat. His phone fell into the console from its precarious place in the pockets of his slacks and Tango eyed the glowing screen numbly. A text from Etho. ‘Drive safe’.
Not many people were usually awake at 2 am. Certainly not for a booty call from the boyfriend they hadn't spoken to in months. It wasn't for Tango's lack of trying, worried texts and invitations out gone unanswered. Sure, he could figure out where Jimmy was staying at any given moment and show up – but that would be a violation of Jimmy’s privacy. Tango had a hard enough time getting Jimmy to accept a shower and a hot meal without pressing him to stay, that he didn’t have to be homeless.
The phone screen lit Tango’s face in cool blue light as he stared at the unanswered texts, thumb hovering over the call button. Was it too late to ask Jimmy to meet him at their spot? Would Jimmy answer? Tango couldn’t go up to the apartment, couldn’t face the quiet disappointment lingering in the air. He pressed the button.
It rang quite a few times before Tango went through. Jimmy’s voice on the other end wasn’t even tired, and Tango tried not to think about how it meant Jimmy hesitated. “…Hi?” Jimmy’s voice sounded unsure.
Tango swallowed back his own nerves. “Hey, Jimmy. I didn’t know if you’d answer. I know it’s late but – listen. I’m going up to the casino and uh. I was wondering if you’d be my company for the evening, mm?” He tried to keep the tremble back. Tried to keep the emotion out of his voice. Jimmy hadn’t done anything wrong; his chest had no reason to be as tight as it was.
What if he said no?
“…Meet at our usual place?” Jimmy asked. There was a tilt of confusion lingering under his voice that Tango opted to ignore for now as he muttered an affirmation into the phone and said his goodbyes. He didn’t know where Jimmy lived at any given time, but he seemed, Tango supposed, to hover around the little sandwich shop where they first met.
To be fair, it wasn’t inside the store but under the door awning, a downpour that soaked through Tango’s jacket and absolutely drenched Jimmy. He smelled as much as a wet rat as he looked. Tango couldn’t help but be instantly endeared as Jimmy tried to help shield him from an oncoming splash by a driving puddle, insisting he was already soaked.
Tango did at least get to flip off the offending car.
The awning had grown more sun-bleached over the year they’d known each other, but it was hard to tell in the dark of 2 am. Jimmy waited for him, a ratty leather jacket pulled tight around his form. Tango knew leather jackets were good, they kept the wearer warm, but everything about the sight of Jimmy indicated he should be a popsicle. Tango turned the heat in the car up a few notches before unlocking the doors for Jimmy to get in.
“Did you just get out of the shower or something?” Jimmy asked as he climbed in. Tango slid his hand over the button for the seat warmers and snorted.
“Something like that,” he replied. The radio was on low because Tango wasn’t thinking about it, and he took a deep breath. “Hi. You – haven’t answered my texts in a minute.”
Jimmy, for his part, looked sheepish. “Sorry…We’ve been busy. Joel thought it was better if we just…focused on ourselves for a bit. I think he’s lonely,” Jimmy said. His quiet voice matched the tone of the Radio, but then he looked up at Tango and leaned forward. Just a bit. “I’ll try not to do it again.
Tango leaned forward to match him and for the first time of the evening a warm and genuine smile came over his face. “Sounds good to me. And – for now I think maybe a warm shower is calling both our names.”
“You mean you didn’t already shower?! Tango-“
---
The TIES private hotel room was luxuriously furnished – for meetings. It wasn’t built with overnight stays in mind. They had their penthouse, and a spattering of smaller apartments across their territory. They only kept the hotel room to keep people from knowing where they lived.
Or, well, that was the original idea.
Jimmy had Tango against the wall at the entrance of the hotel room. It blocked the sight of most of the rest of the room from the closet and bathroom, gave TIES a little more time if someone came in. But it wasn’t a full wall and Tango’s fingers caught right on the edge and gripped while Jimmy kissed him. When they broke apart Tango had to gasp for air and his hand came to hold Jimmy’s hair instead. It wasn’t a tug but a gentle entwinement instead.
“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he said with a laugh. They’d barely stay off each other on their way up, and with the safety of the door shutting behind them Jimmy got bold. The damp shirt peeled from Tango’s skin as Jimmy worked the buttons with practiced precision his fingers had not forgotten and something about it riled Tango up enough to moan.
“Shower – you – smell like the ocean,” Jimmy’s words were peppered in between with Kisses that made Tango laugh into his mouth. Jimmy’s leather jacket came off with a simple suggestion and for a moment Tango worried he ripped something. It landed gently on the carpeted floor.
They broke apart long enough to toe out of their shoes and Tango darted into the bathroom with a speed he felt like only he was capable of. Jimmy followed like a love drunk puppy. Closing the bathroom door was a formality – housekeeping only came here if they were called for and only TIES had the key. This was, also, the only room door with a proper key instead of a keycard. Tango and Jimmy were locked up, nice and secure.
Jimmy kicked his pants off while Tango got the shower running, steam pouring into the room. A bare chest was against his back as Jimmy’s hands worked his own belt and pants off. “You ever gonna tell me why you smell like the ocean tonight?” he asked. It wasn’t whispered into Tango’s ear but it was close enough to make him shiver.
“Later,” Tango replied. He twisted so that he was facing Jimmy and with his pants safely out of reach, dragged them both into the shower stall. The warm water was a luxury that had Jimmy melting against him and there was nothing more Tango loved than having a tall man be like putty in his arms.
Jimmy groaned under the spray of water, grime leaving his skin in rivulets. Tangos worked his fingers over Jimmy’s skin and then blindly found a fresh loofah and little container of hotel body wash to really scrub him down. Their eye contact was warm, and Jimmy bent down to kiss Tango a little less passionately, more tender. Tango took a deep breath in and felt some live nerve in him finally soothe.
2 am was a late hour, or perhaps early, for a shower but it was just want Tango needed. He worked Jimmy over with the body wash with the same care he’d give if it was his bare hand, and a giggle sort of bubbled out of Jimmy’s chest in a way Tango loved.
“You’re like some sort of shower troll. You always seem to call exactly when I need one.”
Tango couldn’t help his own giggle, eyes soft. “You know, most people shower more than once every two weeks. It’s kind of easy to catch you in the act of needing.”
Jimmy’s face was fond as he kissed Tango again. Tango’s hand traveled further down and Jimmy lifted up his legs to meet him. This was intimate, but not in the same heated way. The bubbling lava at the entrance has cooled into a hot spring. Tango’s lips drifted south, making quick work of kissing from his jaw line to his chest as he hand did its due diligence. He got another beautiful groan from Jimmy and Jimmy’s entire weight leaned into the shower wall, head tilted up.
“How did I ever get so lucky. I mean, the T in TIES, huh? And little ol’ me? Getting soaped up together in a shower…” The giggle was almost drunk in its sound this time as Tango traded the loofa for shampoo, bending Jimmy over to lather his hair up. It needed it, greasy and flat to his scalp. Tango could not imagine that wasn’t driving him insane.
“How’d I get so lucky that you didn’t find that out and bolt out the door?” Tango asked instead, grabbing the showerhead to rinse the lather away. Jimmy didn’t answer while water poured over his face. Tango took his hand and squeegeed his hair back before repeating the processor with conditioner.
There was certainly a part of Tango that wished seeing Jimmy didn’t come with the knowledge that he needed food, a shower, shelter. He was happy to give it. He was always happy to give it. But it felt like a dance. Eventually he’d offer something, and Jimmy would insist he didn’t need it. It was hard enough, usually, to open the door to the idea of a shower. Tango didn’t often get the luxury of lathering Jimmy himself. But how was he even supposed to bring it up on a good day? How did you ask your boyfriend if he wanted a shower without sounding like you were suggesting he stunk all the time?
Jimmy did stink, but that was beside the point. The shower was fixing it, and Jimmy cupped his hands around Tango’s face to kiss him again. It brought an end to his overthinking. Tango moaned into his mouth and let his taller partner spin them around, so now Tango’s back was to the wall.
“I think – you deserve a repayment, huh? For the lovely shower?” Jimmy muttered, pressing kissing against Tango’s mouth and cheek while Tango laughed breathlessly. The laugh was replaced by a squeal when Jimmy maneuvered them, so Tango’s legs were wrapped around his waist and his weight was supported by Jimmy pressing him into the wall. Jimmy didn’t look it, but he had strength hidden under his skin. Tango wrapped his arms around Jimmy’s shoulders just to feel a little more secure.
“Repay me, huh?” Tango used his newfound leverage to pull Jimmy into a kiss, squealing again as Jimmy’s hand sunk low and wrapped around his cock. The grip was loose and the pumps were only teasing but it was enough for Tango to rock his head back against the wall. “I can’t think of anyone else trying to repay me by fucking me against a wall.”
Jimmy’s face flushed redder and he looked away as though what he was about to say was in any way more embarrassing than what they were already doing. “I don’t – um- I don’t know that I trust myself to be able to hold us up if I fuck you…” he rubbed his face with a free hand, other hand coming to a total stop on Tango. If he wasn’t so immediately frustrated by the lack of sensation on his cock, Tango would’ve been 100% endeared.
As it stood, he wiggled his hips instead and pulled their foreheads together. “I’m down to do whatever you wanna do, but I need you to do something, Jim, come on,” he whined through his teeth and the whine turned into a shout as Jimmy’s hand started back up. The smack of his head against the tile wasn’t wholly pleasant but he was able to ignore it focus on this. To focus on Jimmy.
How Jimmy had never been on top before they started dating, Tango would never understand. He was immaculate at it, and there was something about the way his face screwed up as he concentrated on making sure he was doing things right. Tango’s whole chest felt warm as he panted and watched Jimmy watching his own hand.
Tango’s whole chest rolled with his breathing while Jimmy worked him up and over. The benefit of them both possessing the same parts is Jimmy knew exactly what to do to make Tango feel good. The rough pad of his thumb rolled over the deep red head of Tango’s cock, his fingers where on just that side of friction to feel good, with only water as their lubricant. His hand twisted this way and that, covering every inch of skin and he surged inward to kiss Tango
Tango moaned. “God – God, Jimmy, if you finish me off here I don’t know-“ he shrieked as his whole body shuddered in pleasure, though his orgasm had not yet arrived. Jimmy’s smile was evident against his lips. Tango tangled his hands in Jimmy’s hair and tugged, encouraging his hand to speed up as Tango’s body tried to curl in on itself.
It hit him like a punch, thick white ropes shooting from his cock as Tango’s body did its best to unfurl between Jimmy and the wall. His eyes didn’t roll to the back of his head but they were unseeing at the ceiling. His own breathing felt like it was louder than the shower as Jimmy kissed him through it, biting at his lip and jaw. The water washed it away and Tango’s eyes drifted to watch it go down the drain.
“Holy shit you’re good at that,” was all Tango could manage to say, think, breathe out of his lungs. Jimmy looked quite proud of himself.
“Learned from the best I think.” His voice was quieter where it murmured into Tango’s skin. He held up his weight a little while longer before slowly lowering Tango down. His legs felt like jelly, but they supported him, and he leaned against Jim with a self-satisfied smile.
His hand snuck down, but Jimmy caught his wrist and shook his head. “I think if you do that in here in your current state we’re guaranteed to fall down.”
Tango snorted, but he didn’t have the brain to retort. His cheek pressed against Jimmy’s wet chest and if he was a cat he would have purred as Jimmy started lathering his hair. “You should let me suck you off, I think,” he muttered, happy and a good sort of floating.
“Maybe after the shower. You still smell like fish,” was all Jimmy replied. He had to move Tango around himself in order to lather him up and wash him down but soon enough, Tango floating on the high of skin contact, he was clean.
“I really love you Jim,” he said as the shower turned off, coming a little back into his head without the background noise. He kissed Jimmy when he got the chance and hummed a happy little sound.
“…I love you too. I’m sorry – about the radio silence.”
“Forgiven. Though you didn’t have to give me a handjob to do it.”
Somewhere in the process of toweling off, Tango became aware of how bone=tired he was. The adrenaline from the earlier encounter, the dopamine from Jimmy, it all sort of flushed out of his system to leave a sleepy lump of a person behind in its stead. He still wanted to pay Jimmy back, but it seemed Jimmy was feeling just as tired.
TIES kept spare clothes in the bathroom, given how often it was they needed to change out of blood-soaked shirts. One of Impulse’s tshirts fit Jimmy like an exceptionally short and flowy dress. One of Skizz’s button downs might have as well been a dress on Tango. A cinched belt and maybe leggings and he could sell it as the latest ‘boyfriend clothes’ look from Forever 21.
The bed called to them more than a round 2 did, Jimmy already flagging even as Tango tried to fight his own tiredness to nip at his neck. They were swaddled in a luxurious mattress and warm sheets, and it was now 3 in the morning. Tango fell asleep with the promise of making it up to Jimmy on his lips.
Make it up to him he did, as the sun rose over the horizon of the ocean and Tango slipped under the sheets. Jimmy was awake but not yet really aware, and with only one of Impulse’s shirt and no boxers in the way it was easy for Tango to slip Jimmy into his mouth. He was only half hard, which meant the whole of his cock fit quite comfortably in Tango’s mouth and he was able to work over the entire thing with his tongue. The moan he pulled from Jimmy would replay over and over in Tango’s head in his happiest memories til the end of his days.
Jimmy’s hand rested on the back of Tango’s head, and firm pressure without actually tugging on his hair, and Tango moaned himself. He liked a bit of direction, as Jimmy’s cock grew and he was able to more comfortably bob his head up and down. He had a trick where his tongue covered his bottom teeth and he used it to apply more pressure to the vein on the under side of Jimmy’s cock and the glands below his head. It helped there, too, that Tango had his tongue pierced, and the metal glided over those areas all the same.
Tango swirled the tip of his tongue from the outer part of the head of Jimmy’s cock right to the center and got a shout and a violent buck of Jimmy’s hips. He was definitely awake now. Tango was well practiced, taking Jimmy back fully into his mouth with a speed that finally got Jimmy to tangle his fingers and pull.
He could’ve taken him slowly, really savored Jimmy waking up, but there was something so fun and mildly devious about jolting his partners awake. Tango knew he was good at it. He pulled back, making sure to run the piercing in swirls going up Jimmy’s cock as Jimmy shouted and threw an arm over his eyes. His whole body was shaking under Tango’s hands, and he rubbed deft little circles into Jimmy’s hips with thin fingers.
Tango’s tongue was ultimately the thing that did Jimmy in, the rough texture of it pointed right at his slit and then Tango sinking back onto him. Jimmy came with a shout, his grip tightening though he wasn’t aware of it, and Tango moaned into the feeling as he swallowed around Jimmy. Jimmy gave a few little twitches of his body as Tango slid off him and wiped his mouth.
“Good morning,” and all Tango got back was a groan. Having Jimmy in the hotel room with him felt right. It was domestic, it was soft – it was something Tango didn’t get a lot of. His brain still tried to light up in anger whenever he thought about the argument with Impulse, but he was trying to tamp it down.
Jimmy rolled into his arms and pulled him from his thoughts. A day of lavishing him and he looked healthy, Tango had to bite his cheek to keep from begging him not to leave. “Are you ever going to tell me why you were soaking wet when you showed up?” he asked.
“Do you really want to know?” Tango replied, pushing his red lensed glasses up onto his bed. He’d been showing Jimmy how they worked, how they revealed little hidden marks on their playing cards, or around the room.
“Well – As long as you didn’t brutally murder anyone, sure? What’s – that thing you said, when I first found out you were the card shark of the city? Reasonable doubt?” Jimmy snorted some and Tango laughed with him.
“No, no, nothing like that. Does the name Scott Smajor ring any bells?”
“Oh! Yeah, Scott,” Jimmy nodded his head and got a warm smile on his face. “What’s he gotta do with you going into the ocean?”
Tango shifted to look at Jimmy but he didn’t ask the question on the forefront of his mind. “Uhhh – He’s got this new guy hanging around him? Who has to be the jumpiest guy I’ve ever met. He accused us of cheating Scott out at poker which turned into – just a mess. And then now, he threw me into the ocean because I was beating Scott at Rum Ginny.” Tango rolled his eyes and pet his fingers through Jimmy’s hair. It was nice to feel Jimmy sink into being loved, it kept Tango’s own head grounded.
“Ah. Wait – I thought you couldn’t swim?” Jimmy sat up a bit and Tango grinned at him and shrugged. “Tango!”
“I’m fine, everything’s fine…Just…a little tense back home right now, which is why I’m here with a pretty boy in my lap.” Jimmy lit up like a stoplight as he settled back against Tango, and Tango couldn’t resist running his fingers against hot skin. It stayed tame for once, Tango just moving his fingers between the freckles on Jimmy’s shoulders. Just admired him.
Jimmy was thinking. There was a certain pinched look his face held whenever he got deep in thought and Tango trailed his hands back up to scratch his scalp and look at him with love in his eyes. “Mm?”
“You…aren’t like. Scared to go home are you, Tango? Like – no one’s gonna hurt you, are they?” Jimmy asked. He moved to look at Tango’s face, a serious veil over his own, and Tango felt his chest swell with love.
“No. No. God no. We love each other. Impulse is just – grumpy. I guess. And you know how I get when I get mad…I’m just letting the air clear out is all. I don’t like shouting at my guys.”
“Well…as long as it’s just shouting. I would hate to have to get the Bad Boys involved,” Jimmy said, moving then to give Tango a kiss. He was sure it was meant to just be some chaste thing, but Tango couldn’t help but hold his face and keep him there, really press all his love into it. When they parted, the air warm between them, Tango smiled.
“I love you.”
He didn’t move for a bit, enjoying just getting to hold Jimmy in his arms and the sleepy, fuzzy bliss of bringing his partner pleasure, and Jimmy seemed content to do the same. When he did finally move, it was to order them both a room service breakfast and wrap himself up in the fluffy robe laying abandoned on the floor. Jimmy stole the heat from his side of the bed, stretching out to take up as much of the covers as possible. He looked content. Happy.
“It’s nice to get to wake up with a pretty boy in my arms,” Tango said, tying the robe closed before climbing to the bed where he could. Jimmy shifted to take Tango underneath the blanket with him, and Tango let out a yelp of surprise.
“I think you might’ve woken up with a pretty boy in your mouth maybe?” Jimmy couldn’t make it through his own joke, giggling into Tango’s neck and hiding his face in embarrassment.
“I didn’t wake up like that-“ Tango laughed with him all the same and shook his head. Jimmy shifted so he could kiss Tango again and Tango relaxed. This was nice. It soothed some raw ache in him in a way being at home would not have and he sighed lovingly into Jimmy’s mouth.
Eventually, pancakes for Jimmy and an omelet for Tango arrived with a pot of coffee to split between the two of them. They got to eat from the comfort of the bed and something mindless playing on the TV. Tango stole a swipe of Jimmy’s pancake and picked the blackberry off it. Jimmy stole a bite of Tango’s omelet only to have it slide off his fork. Tango laughed, feeding Jimmy another bite.
They talked of nothing and everything they’d missed over the last two months. The latest shenanigans with Grian and Joel. Tango’s new casino machine side project with Etho. Clothes shopping. Whatever midday drama they’d ended up putting on the TV. There was a brief battle for the remote that ended in Jimmy putting on some home renovation show, and Tango settled into his side with a pout.
It was warm – the blankets, the lighting streaming in through the windows, Jimmy’s bare chest against Tango’s cheek. Warm and comfortable in a way they only were with each other. Tango found Jimmy’s hand and held it with a firm pressure, his thumb slowly rubbing against the knuckles. Eventually, though Jimmy had to move with a groan of discontent, and Tango was greeted to the sight of his bare ass.
He had only moments to enjoy it as Jimmy found his pants on the floor and pulled them on. Ratty, though not as bad as they could be. Tango bought him clothes as often as he could convince Jimmy to take them, and Jimmy was a little weak to the puppy dog eyes. Still, eyes watched him appreciatively as he made his way around the separator to go to the bathroom.
Tango found himself drifting to sleep while Jimmy went about his morning business, sunk into the warm bed with a belly full of a warm meal and the TV playing so low he could hardly hear it. The couple were arguing about paint colors or something, it didn’t really matter – he only watched these sort of things with Jimmy to judge the ultimate interior design choices anyway. He nodded off, chin tucked into his chest while he waited for his partner to rejoin him.
The sound of Jimmy shouting startled him awake. He came face to face with the barrel of a gun and shouted himself, scrambling back on the bed and hitting his head. Adrenaline pumped through his bloodstream as his brain tried to wake up.
“Well hello there, Tango.”
He didn't recognize the voice, which was odd given he did most of the talking work for TIES. He didn't recognize the face, either, which was even weirder. Tango managed a deep breath, trying to steady his voice, but it fell through as Jimmy was led out by a different man.
“Okay. So. Clearly you know me. Let him go, he has nothing to do with TIES business,” Tango said, his eyes watching Jimmy closely instead of the person in front of him.
“Well I would hate for someone unrelated to the problem to get hurt. Wouldn't you?” The question was punctuated by Jimmy wincing in pain. One of his arms was twisted behind him and if Tango had to guess, there was a gun pressed into his bare back.
Great. Jimmy was a bargaining chip now. Tango swallowed back a bitter taste that started rising up in his system.
“What do you want?” Tango had to keep the growl out of his voice.
“What do I want, that sure is the question isn’t it? Well for now I wouldn't mind if you would put your hands about your head there. I need to be sure you don’t try anything funny, after all.” The man was clearly waiting for Tango to comply, and the gun he stared down was very persuasive. Handcuffs found their way around his wrists, stolen out of the nightstand.
Tango had to fight the smirk off his face. They were quick release.
Jimmy winced again in pain as the man holding him readjusted his grip now that Tango was contained. Tango's neutral face fell back into a frown, a glower even, as the man in front of him sat on the bed. The gun was a little bit looser in his grip, his stance a little cockier.
“So then. Your partner Etho. Do you know he has a side business cracking into laptops?”
“Yeah. No shit.”
The man faltered a bit, clearly expecting that Etho was doing that on the down-low without alerting the rest of TIES. Why on earth he would think that, Tango didn't know. “Right. Well, you see, he sold information about a little…project…I was in charge of. Made it fall right through. Almost got me arrested.”
“Seems like it would serve you right. Dumb enough to leave an easy paper trail, dumb enough to get arrested.”
Tango regretted his words almost as soon as he said them, hearing Jimmy gasp in pain. “Careful there, Mr. Tek. I would hate to bring unrelated parties into this.”
“You already did if your issue is with Etho,” Tango replied. Sometimes he hated his mouth, his lack of filter. It really bit him at times like this.
The man narrowed his eyes. Tango shifted, making it look like he was just making his shoulder more comfortable. In a way, he was. The new angle gave him better access to the quick release trigger. He had a feeling he needed it.
The man sitting on the bed smiled at him. “Ah, no. You are involved with Etho, you are involved. And getting you alone will really help to send a message I think. Shame about that guy, but, I think the two of you being found in here in nothing but a bathrobe and some skinny jeans will certainly make for interesting news.”
Tango saw the way Jimmy's heart leapt into his stomach. He saw the split second between the panic registering and Jimmy deciding to act on it. The man holding him clearly wasn’t expecting Jimmy to fight back in any way, his balance thrown off as Jimmy threw his free elbow into the guy's side.
It was enough for Jimmy to get free, spinning around and grabbing the wrist holding the gun. Tango watched, horrified, as the two began to fight. Jimmy ended up shoved back against the wall, the gun pointing at the ceiling. Tango kept his thumb over the release layer, his gaze between Jimmy’s fight and the other man on the bed.
He clearly didn't see Jimmy as a threat because he wasn't even moving to help his guy. His gun rested on his leg, head twisted over his shoulder.
Tango took his chance, releasing the quick release lever on the cuffs and thanking his lucky stars that sometimes he snuck off to be here with Impulse. In a smooth movement he wrapped the cuffs around the guys neck and he pulled as hard as he could. In an instant his hands were scrambling at the chain, desperately trying to release the pressure, to get air.
Jimmy gasped in pain as his struggle started to go south, the man he was clamoring with using his free hand to press Jimmy's head into the wall. The skin around the guys hand was pressed down white as paper and he looked strong enough that Tango worried he might actually be able to crush Jimmy.
His fight grabbed his attention again as the man slammed his weight into Tango and knocked him over. Tango shouted, the cuff still attached to his wrist leaving a small dent in the wood of the headboard. There was a scramble, as his guy tried to gather his bearings and Jimmy renewed his efforts, leg kicking out at the man’s ankle.
A gun fired, and Jimmy shouted with it. There was a hole in the ceiling and little bits of drywall rained down. It hit no one, but the flash of freeze Tango had was enough for the man he was fighting with to stand up and aim.
Tango shouted, throwing himself into his guy. The shot fired and Tango squeezed his eyes shut – but Jimmy's shout was not of pain but fear. Jimmy's breathing was the only thing audible in the room as the man who had been wrestling with him slumped to the floor. A bullet was embedded in the man's back.
Tango didn’t have time to deal with Jimmy until the other threat was eliminated. He was lucky, the man was in shock he just signed his own guy's death certificate and it gave Tango the opening he needed to slam his fist into the side of his head. He stumbled and Tango wasted no time wrenching his gun away.
One bullet shot cleanly into his head and the problem collapsed like meat. Tango's breathing stuttered and he rushed to Jimmy, pulling him away from both the bodies and to the corner of the room. He held his face, trying to look him over for any wounds. Some places were certainly going to have bruises, but he didn’t get hurt in the altercation with the gun. Jimmy’s whole body was shaking as Tango looked him over.
“I'm sorry…I’m so sorry. Look at me, don't look over there,” Tango kept his voice as calm as he could manage. Jimmy hiccuped, staring at Tango's face. His eyes wandered, unable to stay in one place, so he jerked his head to look out the window. Tango squeezed his arms tight. “I’m gonna…call our clean up crew, alright? And then- let me take you home?”
“No- no. I can get home on my own,” Jimmy's voice cracked as he spoke, words pressing out past a lump in his throat. Tango took a deep breath in and tried not to let that uncontrollable, irrational anger bubble up. Jimmy never let him take him home.
“Please let me take you home.” Tango didn't like how it sounded like he was reduced to begging but he stamped down that feeling too. Jimmy wouldn't meet his eyes.
“…I'm gonna go. Before – The Bad Boys are gonna be wonderin' just where I am, and the questions about – the clothes, and you, are bad enough whenever we meet up. I just - I'm gonna go.” Jimmy untangled himself from where Tango was trying to ground him. Tango could hear the way his breath shook as he faced the reality of the room. Swore he heard every organ in Jimmy's body try to get sick at once. Jimmy had a long stride, quick with his desire to get out, and in seconds the door open and shut. It left Tango with bodies warmer than the bed they had together. He felt the nausea settle over him in waves, tingle through his limbs. He couldn't convince himself to move to call their clean up crew.
Impulse would know about this if he called them. Skizz and Etho would. Maybe they should – the two men were apparently mad at Etho in the last hours of their lives. Tango was sure he could find some way to bring it up without mentioning how much danger he'd just been in. How much danger he put Jimmy in.
He'd figure it out. He moved, eventually, lifting one dead man to drag him to the trash chute. Just like he'd figure this out, blood soaking into his robe.