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    Summary

    But Ocelot had come to him. Had sat in his lap. That meant something, right? At the very least, he should be courteous. They were partners. They'd been through enough shit together that Kaz could give him a handjob, help him out. It would be quick, professional even. Then they could go back to pretending this never happened.

    "Sorry Ocelot, you're not exactly what I have in mind right now." Kaz reached for Ocelot's belt, fingers working the buckle slowly. His hands knew what to do even if his brain was elsewhere. "But I'm a gentleman, and it's been a while, so I can..."

    There was nothing there. No bulge. No hardness pressing against the fabric. Just... flat.

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