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“We don’t have a lot of time.” Jesse says, pulling her hair back into a ponytail with sharp, efficient jerks of her hands. Darling nods, hurrying now, to match her urgency. He wants it as badly as she does, if not more. By the time he’s gotten his lab coat off, Jesse’s already popped open the clasp on her belt, and undone the row of snaps that run the length of her, from throat to waist. “I have to meet Pope in thirty minutes.”

“We can be quick.” Darling promises, but his hands fumble on his belt at just the sight of her. Her hands are there to help him, easing stiff leather from it’s buckle, coaxing his buttons loose, slipping his bow tie from around his neck. When his pants hit the tile floor of the broom closet, Darling steps out of them quickly, kicking them to the side with one still shoed foot. “What’s the meeting about?”

“God, can we not talk about work?” Jesse sighs, crowding into him as he hops onto the work table, wincing as his balls meet the cold metal. He can’t wait until the lockdown is over so they can do this somewhere with a bed. “I just want…”

He lays back when she directs, widening his legs to let her press between them. She opens a pouch on her loose utility belt to pull out a packet of sterile medical lubricant. Not exactly sexy, at least until she tears it open with her teeth.

“Me too.” He admits as her fingers find his entrance. Scrabbles for a moment before getting his foot braced on the table, giving her room to work. Jesse’s fingers are hard and efficient like the rest of her, pressing into him. Targets his prostate with the pad of her middle finger, like pulling a trigger and Darling bites his lip, so he can’t hear himself panting for it.

She lingers over this bit for a moment, until his toes are curling and he’s gripping for the open edges of her uniform to pull her closer. He wonders what dirty work she’d been doing to be wearing this , and then she’s pulling down the elastic, tucking it just under her cock and lining up with his entrance.

Darling hisses as she pushes in, watches her brows furrow through smudged glasses, her mouth go tight. Jesse is gorgeous like this, hunched over him, breasts barely held back by the utilitarian fabric of her Bureau-issued sports bra. He’s already sweating and she isn’t even all the way in.

He wants to know what the meetings about, but Emily is Head of Research now, and Darling is, frankly, lucky to have a job.

“I hope you didn’t get that lube from the medical sector.” Is what he says, and Jesse laughs as she presses her hips flush to his. Darling’s back comes off the table, and he grunts like he’s been punched. 

“Storage.” Is all she says, but who fucking cares, she’s so thick inside of him. Darling used to think people who looked for love past their prime were stupid- he had his work, and god that was more than enough, but now he’s pretty sure he wakes up most days hoping for this. For the way she really puts her weight into it, rocking into him, rocking the table into the wall, until Darling’s sure anybody who walks past would know exactly what’s happening here.

Would never expect it to be Dr. Casper Darling, biting his fist, heels waving in the air.

Her hand smooths through his hair and Darling doesn’t understand her. Doesn’t understand her careful competency, her brutal capabilities with a gun he’d previously seen shot maybe twice in his time here. Doesn’t understand why she’d want him, old and useless. When he’d come back, shaking and shivering, thrust into his meaty human form once more, she’d greeted him like a friend.

Taken his hand in her own, grip firm.

“Those HRAs saved lives.” She’d said simply,  while Darling had just gaped at her, feeling so lost in his sweaty, white underclothes. She’d been professional then.

Was less so now, spreading his ass with both hands to pull him more firmly back onto her, Darling’s hand pressing into the wall, anything to help steady him against the force of her. The hand in his hair tightens, and Darling moans, eyes closing as she fucks into him again and again, raw, delicious pressure exactly where he needs it.

“I’m close.” She whispers, like it’s bad, like they aren’t probably already making her late, like he hasn’t been swollen and dripping into his belly-button this whole time, just waiting. He wraps a hand around himself, ass squeezing around her at the upsurge in pleasure, and Jesse grits her teeth, jaw flexing like it hurt. “God, Darling, you feel…”

He wants her to keep going, wants her to tell him why she’d want this, want him. In this house of mysteries she’s the one he’d most like to solve.

“Cum in me.” He says instead. Her hips stutter.

“God, I-”

“Come on, Director, cum in me.” He says. It isn’t confidence old age has brought him, Darling thinks, feeling her smooth thrusts fall into an unsteady rhythm. It’s desperation. Their bodies meet in a few final pulses, and Darling finally lets his thumb press into the underside of his head, comes in amplified waves that leave him hoarse, reeling. He’s still clenching around her when she pulls out.

“That was amazing.” She tells him, eyes bright, and Darling’s back hurts, his hips hurt and he’s cold all over from being half-naked, but he presses into the kiss she gives him. “I’ll see you for dinner?”

Dinner will probably be rations from a shelter, hastily heated, hastily eaten. He nods anyway. The next kiss she presses to him is on his forehead. She wipes off with a rag from her back pocket, hands it to him to do the same. Does up the snaps on her jumpsuit, watching him.

He’s still fixing his belt when she cracks the door.

"Bye?” She says, like it’s a question, and Darling’s cleaning his glasses so he can’t even see her face when he replies.

“See you tonight, Jesse.”

What are they doing? The Hiss is no closer to being silenced, he’s decades older than her and she’s young and gorgeous, at the top of her career.

He startles when the door cracks open again. Startles badly, body jumping. Feels a little of her mess slide from his sore opening. It’s just Jesse, mouth curved into a smile.

“Almost forgot.” She says and hands him his bow tie, crumpled from her pocket.

Gone before he can thank her.