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Sometimes when it’s cold and damp, Red’s wrist will ache- the one that was broken in his trip out of the office window. Without thinking he nonchalantly mentions it to Dixon as a joke about getting older, but the way Dixon’s face crumbles in guilt makes Red wish he’d kept it to himself; that he’d surreptitiously stretched the joint and popped an Advil until the pain went away.
Dixon left soon after, saying he had to get up early for work when Red knew he was off the next day until noon.
They’d been “going out” or whatever you wanted to call it for about two months now, if you looked at it on a calendar. But since the start of everything between them also corresponded with Dixon being back on the police force, they actually hadn’t spent all that much time together. While Red worked the normal nine-to-five, Monday to Friday schedule, Dixon’s timing was more variable and unknown, especially because he was the “new guy” again and getting some of the less desirable times and assignments.
So it was all-new; all really fuckin’ new to both of them, but working out better than Red had expected, honestly. And he was sure Dixon thought the same. Thought this thing they had going was getting pretty damn good.
Well, it seemed like he’d thought that, at least.
Dixon had only left ten minutes earlier when Red pulled on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and followed behind.
He pulled into Dixon’s driveway and was at the door in a blur. He wasn’t angry, more he knew what Dixon was thinking about and he wanted to put a stop to it right fuckin’ now.
He knocked loudly on the door, watching as it opened to Dixon’s confused face.
“Hey,”
“Hey, can I come in? I think we need to talk.”
Red pushed past Dixon into the living room without waiting for a response.
He gestured over to the couch, “Can you sit down for a minute?”
Silently, Dixon sat heavily with his back ramrod straight and his shoulders tight with tension, like he was steeling himself for bad news. The look on his face was one of resignation; he thought he knew where they were headed.
Red didn’t let him think about it too long. He walked forward, pushed into Dixon’s space and dropped right into his lap, legs spread wide over Dixon’s thighs like he knew the other man loved.
That got Dixon’s attention. He leaned back, arms held awkwardly in the air and hovering over Red’s legs. There was surprise on his face with a small spark of hope Red only saw because he was searching for it.
“Why’d you leave”? He asked quietly.
Dixon’s throat worked through a swallow as he shrugged lightly, still holding his hands above out in front of him. Red wanted to feel the warmth of them on his skin, wanted to get back to what this night was supposed to be, but he made himself be patient. They needed to settle this as best they could.
“You’re hurtin’ still, cause of me. Didn’t think you’d want me around with it reminding you tonight,”
“Dixon, it’s hurt before when I’ve been around you, hell, it ached really fuckin’ bad last Saturday when we were lyin’ in bed, remember? It was raining and you were holding me and at least once I though about getting up to take somethin’ for it, but I wasn’t angry at you because-,”
Dixon had been looking more distressed as Red spoke, “Goddammit, Red, I’m sor-“
“-because you’ve apologized a shit-ton of times already, remember? You’ve said it a hundred times, even before we started all this. Did you mean them?”
“Fuck, of course I fuckin’ meant-“ Red cut him off again,
“And I told you I forgave you- Do you think I didn’t mean that? You think I was lyin’?”
That shut Dixon up for a second as they stared at one another, Red calm but Dixon cautious. Slowly Dixon shook his head.
Red grabbed both of Dixon’s hands in his own and placed them over his own thighs, dragging them back slowly until they were just past the junction of his legs and his hips; the tips of Dixon’s fingers lightly digging into his ass as both of their breath started to come out quicker. It mimicked the way he’d held Dixon’s hand to his face the first time they’d kissed. He hoped Dixon was remembering the same thing.
“You think I’d let you touch me like this if I fuckin’ hated you?” Red asked softly. Letting go of Dixon’s hands he instead reached out and laid his palms on the other man’s chest and pushed upwards until he was cupping Dixon’s neck,
“You think I’d touch you like this if I was lyin’ about forgiving you?”
Dixon shook his head again helplessly. Red could feel the fingers tighten and loosen on him through his jeans in spasms and he couldn’t stop from rocking backwards into them slightly. He stopped himself from grinding down; this needed to be said before anything else happened. With a deep breath he leaned forward and rested this forehead against Dixon’s.
“I’ve said this before, you know I have, but I’m gonna say it again every time you need to hear it, okay? You fucked up, we both fucked up, and we both apologized. It doesn’t mean we didn’t do what we did, I know that- I still kept those billboards up. You still- you still hurt me. But we’re gettin’ past that, I know we are. We’re makin’ something here that I don’t know if it’ll last, but I know I’m really fuckin’ liking it. What about you?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m likin’ it,” Dixon said, a little breathless.
“Good,” Red nodded a little against the other man’s head, “good,” and finally closed the last bit of distance between them and kissed him.
He kept it soft and light; they didn’t do that too much. Usually they were hurrying and frantic, aware of the time limit they had.
But tonight Red figured they needed to be soft and light, needed to be slow and careful.
Well, needed to start that way, at least.
They pulled apart gradually, and Red rested his head against Dixon’s once again.
“Now, you done bein’ a dumbass so we can go to bed?”
Dixon snorts and grips Red’s ass, hard, before he was standing up suddenly with Red still in his arms.
With a yelp, Red wrapped his legs around Dixon’s waist to keep from falling.
“You little shit.” Dixon said affectionately.
Red just laughed and held on tighter as Dixon walked them down the hallway, heading to the bedroom.
END