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It happened more often than not, Sebastian thought, and always after a successful job.
It would start with Jim leaning on him, somewhere between his third and fifth drink, and he didn’t know if it was the thrill of a kill still rushing through him and mixed up with a few drinks, or something else entirely that only came to him when Jim was so close, his breath warm and his voice soft on his ear. But it was there and he couldn’t ignore it, the warmth and comfortable uneasiness that he felt, and then Jim’s lips on his neck, his hands in his hair as they kissed and pushed each other against the walls or the cool surface of Jim’s office desk.
“We should stop doing this,” Jim said once, giggling breathlessly.
His lips looked red and moist, and Sebastian felt something inside his chest tighten at the sight. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to his neck, shook his head a bit and said, “No, we shouldn’t.”