Title: Don't Rush
Character/s: Gwaine, Percival
Summary: Modern AU. One sneaky Christmas tryst turns into more. Maybe.
Word Count: 925
Prompt: #406, donate a prompt, Rush from gilli_ann
Author's Notes: I only just realized I haven't posted in this community in over a year. I've missed this, even though I'm very rusty (as my lame title can attest, lol).
The first time Gwaine cornered him in the supply closet, Percival blamed it on the alcohol. After all, it was Christmas, and someone not thinking clearly had put Gwaine in charge of refreshments, which meant the punch was loaded, the beer was free, and overindulging was thoroughly encouraged. So having the object of his current obsession pinning him to a wall and kissing him like a starving man wasn’t completely crazy. Just unexpected. Especially since Gwaine wasted no time falling to his knees and giving Percival the fastest, deepest, most intense blowjob of his single life.
The second happened after Uther’s monthly oversight meeting. Uther wasn’t happy about something – as usual – and they got stuck in the board room for thirteen hours instead of three. Gwaine followed Percival out, then pushed him into the same closet as soon as the others had dispersed. He was on his knees even quicker that time, sucking and humming along Percival’s cock like he’d been waiting for it for days. Percival wanted to make it last, but this was Gwaine and his talented mouth, and, well, that would be like asking the sun to stop shining. He came with a choked gasp, his head as much of a wreck as his watery muscles, so his attempt to stop Gwaine from disappearing afterward failed miserably.
The third – okay, he couldn’t remember anything specific about what prompted the third or any other time after that. But it turned into a pattern of him and Gwaine somehow ending up in the closet together, Gwaine sinking to his knees, Percival finishing in what always felt like record time before Gwaine took off for parts unknown.
As incredible as the orgasms were, they began to piss Percival off.
Gwaine was mostly the same outside of the closet, though he took the time to smile and brush up against Percival far more than he did before the holiday party. But any time Percival tried to talk to him – really talk, not joke around or smile or discuss work – Gwaine found an excuse to walk away. Nobody else thought it weird, either.
“Since when does Gwaine want to take anything seriously?” Merlin replied when Percival brought it up. “Don’t worry about it.”
Except he did. Because he’d liked Gwaine before the closet sex started happening, and he had no desire to end up being another notch in Gwaine’s belt when he got bored and moved on.
In April, he found a note on his desk with only two words on it.
He needed no other invitation. He marched down the hall and let himself in. Less than a minute later, the handle turned, and Gwaine slipped inside.
The rest of Gwaine’s greeting was lost as Percival shoved him into the wall. Gwaine grinned, but the amusement in his eyes faded as Percival held him there with one hand while his other reached behind to lock the door.
“You really think we’ll get interrupted after how many months we’ve been doing this?” Gwaine said.
“I’m not locking them out,” Percival said softly. “I’m locking you in.”
Gwaine’s sinful mouth tightened. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I do. I’m not letting you rush this.”
In reply, Percival loosened his grip to slide his hands up to cup Gwaine’s face. Then, without closing his eyes, he leaned in and kissed him.
There was no reaction at first, just a meeting of lips to lips, but the moment Gwaine clawed his hands into Percival’s shirt, Percival withdrew.
“No. Not like that.”
Gwaine blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do.”
“I thought you liked our arrangement.”
“And you got off on it.”
“No,” Percival countered. “I got off on you.” When Gwaine stiffened, Percival caressed his cheek with a gentle sweep of his thumb. “Did you know I liked you before the Christmas party?”
A pause. “I wouldn’t have dragged you in here if I thought you didn’t want it.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Making this about sex.” He’d thought this through. It was the only explanation he could come up with. Well, the only one he liked, anyway. “You’re more than that. I’ve always thought so. But I don’t think you do.”
“I know what I’m good at.”
“And you are,” Percival said. “There’s no denying that. But if you wanted something more from me, something outside of work, out in the open, that would be good, too. Because that’s what I really want. More of you.”
For a second, he thought he’d made a mistake. That this wasn’t about Gwaine’s insecurities, that Gwaine hadn’t been rushing out because he was afraid of getting rejected, that maybe Gwaine really was the slut he pretended to be.
But then Gwaine smiled, and it wasn’t the carefree grin he shared around the office or the devilish smirk he sometimes adopted before pulling Percival’s cock free of his pants. It was joyous and real and lit him up from the inside out.
“So if I asked you out for a real date, would you say yes?” Gwaine said.
“Are you asking?”
“On one condition.”
“That we don’t have to give up sneaking in here, too.” He pressed closer, his arm slipping around Percival’s waist. “Because you have to admit, it’s kind of hot.”
Percival chuckled. “More than kind of.” He skimmed his lips across Gwaine’s temple. “I have a condition, too.”
“No more rushing.”
Gwaine’s laughter was a rumble against his chest. “Agreed.”