Things are normal the next time they see each other at work. Tim's eyes linger on her for a couple seconds longer than normal, and Lucy holds her breath, but then he looks away, and there's nothing else to it.
It's not unlike their first shift after the wedding, but it's even more contained now—despite the thrumming in her veins, it's easy to reign in.
For a few days, at least.
As the days stretch into a week, Lucy finds herself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of Tim. Their shared moments, stolen glances, and the electric tension between them refuse to fade from her mind.
Their interactions at work remain professional, yet there are subtle shifts in their dynamics. Tim's demeanor around her holds a touch of lingering warmth, a silent acknowledgment of their shared intimacy. Lucy, too, feels a heightened awareness whenever he's near, a silent pull that tugs at her despite her efforts to maintain composure.
It's happening again, and she can't stop it. She knows the longer they ignore this, the worse it'll get.
Lucy finds herself in the file room again, and she almost bursts out laughing when Tim walks through the door. Of course the universe would make this happen. Of course.
He seems to understand the irony as well. He glances at the table they'd almost defiled the week prior.
Tim sighs, obviously resigned. "I think we need to talk again."
"Yeah," she agrees, silently thrilled at the implication of again—last time, they hadn't actually talked. "Your place after work?"
She only gets a nod out of him on the subject, so they wrap out the rest of the shift without mentioning anything, and afterwards, she drives directly to his place.
When Tim opens the door, she walks into his house with purpose, pushing past him before turning around as he shuts the door closed.
"I don't think we got it out of our system," Lucy says, getting to the point.
He eyes her, heat flaring. "No. We didn't."
"The relief seems to have a time limit," she says next, "before we're back to being all..." She gestures vaguely.
"Weird."
"Yeah. That." She would've opted to say horny, but it's about the same thing if they're not actually doing anything about it. She looks at him. "Look, last time we both mentioned this would probably happen again. We're two consenting adults. We've already agreed to keep this a secret."
Tim nods. "And we're more likely to be found out if we keep staring at each other than if we just...resolve it in private."
"I'm not staring at you," she immediately retorts, before she rethinks his phrasing. "You stare at me?"
He shrugs.
Lucy's lips twitch in a half-smile at his admission, a hint of amusement in her eyes despite the seriousness of their conversation. "So, what now?" she asks, her tone a blend of curiosity and anticipation.
Tim steps closer, closing the gap between them until they're standing mere inches apart. His voice is barely above a whisper as he responds, "Now? Now, we figure out if we can really keep this between us."
She nods, her heart pounding in her chest as she considers the implications of their unspoken agreement. "We can," she asserts.
Tim reaches out tentatively, his fingers brushing against hers. The touch sends a shiver down Lucy's spine, igniting a familiar spark between them. She meets his gaze once more, finding reassurance and longing mirrored in his eyes.
He searches her eyes for something. "Are you sure about this?"
She hums her assent. "Any non-negotiables I should know?" she asks.
"This cannot affect work," he stipulates.
She nods. "Agreed. Anything else?"
He shakes his head. "You?"
"A few. We both get off at some point," Lucy lists, holding up a finger; "I like it rough, but nothing constricting—a little restraining is fine, but nothing I can't force my way out of if I need to," with two fingers, "my left rib is off limits," at three fingers; "and if you call me a 'slut' or whatever other degrading term men like to use in bed, I will leave you with blue balls," she finishes as she lifts the fourth finger.
"Noted," Tim responds with a short nod.
With that, Lucy takes the hairband off of her wrist and gathers her hair before tying it into a messy bun.
Tim blinks at her. "What are you doing?"
She gets on her knees in front of him.
"Can I?" she asks, fluttering her eyelashes as she looks up at him. She gives him a coy smile.
"I—uh," he stutters, his eyes blown wide as he stares down at her, "I'm not gonna say no."
Permission granted, her hands reach up to his belt. She glances up with a smirk when his breath hitches; he's still staring down at her like he can't believe this is happening. Slowly, almost like she's taunting him, she undoes the belt, pops open the button, and undoes the zipper at an agonizing pace. He doesn't move an inch until she's tugging down his jeans and boxers, and he has to help her out a little—why are his pants so tight?
Lucy smirks as her eyes flicker to his leaking cock in front of her face. She brings a hand up to stroke him, her thumb swirling over his tip and spreading the precum around the head. She revels in his stuttered gasp at that small action, and dips her head forward to kiss where her thumb had just been, and enjoys that sigh even more.
She spends a minute just slowly exploring his length with her tongue and hand, her lips tracing along the vein, wet and slobbery to allow her fingers to slip against it easily. He's big, but she thinks she can fit him into her mouth with a little work and effort. She wraps her hand around the base and works up, retracting her mouth, and Tim jerks against her.
She likes giving blowjobs, if her partner is willing to reciprocate eventually. And based on last time, she doesn't doubt that Tim will. Even despite that, she loves the thrill and power it gives her. She glances up as her hand moves up and down his cock lazily, enjoying the view of him barely keeping his eyes open, hissing through his teeth.
When her hand is back at the base, Lucy adjusts her positioning to where she thinks she'll be most comfortable, and slides him into her mouth as far as he can comfortably go, without gagging her.
"Fuck, Chen," he grunts out, and she shoots him an admonishing look—she's not sure how admonishing it can be when she's got her lips wrapped around his cock, but it seems to get the point across when he hisses out, "Lucy," instead as she curls her tongue around the head.
That's more like it.
Still, he seems to have a little trouble relaxing. He's stiff and unmoving, and she has a feeling it's because of how weird this kinda is. No matter how turned on she's been thinking about Tim since the wedding, it's not lost on her that he's her previous boss, and she graduated not that long ago. He's always been about boundaries, so this is probably a lot harder to deal with for him.
Lucy grabs his hand and deposits it on her hair. She glances up again as she takes his cock further into her mouth, and, just as she planned, his fingers grip against her strands as he groans. She flutters her eyelid in approval as he blinks down at her.
And, just like that, he doesn't hold back. As she bobs her head and twists her tongue and strokes her fingers, his hand tangles into her hair, roughly pulling and twisting, as he barely restrains himself from thrusting into her mouth.
Tim's mouthy, she realizes. He grunts and groans and gasps and says her name a lot. He whispers, "Right there," and, "Oh, fuck, that's perfect," and tells her she's amazing. The words seem to flow even more as he gets closer to the brink, and it's the best indicator of how close he is. He's basically nonsensical by the end.
Staring up at him, she delicately strokes his balls, takes a hand to use as his as leverage as her mouth takes him as far down as she can, gagging slightly.
"I'm about to—fuck!"
Lucy doesn't relent with his warning. Her nails dig deeper into his ass, and her other hand continues fondling him as she keeps her pace steady. Her tongue flattens against his length and—
Tim groans loudly as hot spurts shoot down her throat. She immediately slows her pace, and relaxes her hands, softly pressing her tongue against the head of his cock as she takes in his cum.
When he's done, she pulls her mouth off of him with a pop, spit and cum dribbling out of her mouth as she swallows. She glances up at him, and he's staring at her like she just hung the moon.
He tugs her up by the hair before kissing her, dirty and messy, uncaring that he can probably taste himself against her tongue. She responds eagerly, tongue sliding into his mouth as she throws her arms around his neck, pulling him close.
Immediately, his hands fly to either side of her waist and begins to work her shirt up her torso. She helps him easily, raising her hands and breaking their fused lips apart to tug it off, and as soon as that's out of the way, his hand reaches behind her.
"Front clasp," she gasps, before reaching her hand down to undo her bra. She shrugs it off, leaving her torso bare.
Lucy shrieks and laughs as Tim lifts her up unexpectedly, his hands coming up under her ass, his mouth still chasing hers. He kisses her as he walks heavily a few steps.
He drops to his knees when he reaches the couch, depositing her on the cushions. Her ankles are at his upper back as he immediately descends on her tits, taking a nipple into his mouth. Her hands clutch at his shirt, pulling and pulling until it rides up his back, and he detaches from her breasts as he throws the shirt off.
"How are you so fucking hot?" she whines, her hands exploring the muscles that always hide underneath layers of his uniform. She's admired how his biceps strain against the sleeves more than enough times, but god, how is he so jacked underneath? If she had a better vantage point, she'd lick his abs. Maybe later.
He chuckles as his lips dip towards her stomach, his hands reaching for the top of her jeans, her abdomen jumping under his touch. He pops open the button and lowers the zipper quickly, jerking her pants impatiently. She laughs, lifting her butt up, and her core basically hits him against the chin, but he doesn't even flinch. He's tugging her bottoms off as fast as he can, and her socks go along with it, and he throws it absentmindedly behind him as he immediately steps back between her legs.
He pulls one leg up, kissing her inner thigh as he sets it over his shoulder.
"Sometimes I just want to stop the shop and do exactly this," Tim says, before pressing a kiss to her other thigh.
"Sit around and do nothing?" she sasses, displeased with the fact he hasn't gotten to the point yet.
"I'll show you nothing," he mutters, before suddenly pressing his lips to her clit ever so softly. She whimpers, her fingers immediately finding purchase in his hair as she tries to rock her hips closer. Tim is having none of it, though, pulling back and slinging an arm against her waist, keeping her still. "No. I'd fuck you with my mouth until you forgot how to use yours. Maybe then I'd get some peace and quiet for the rest of the shift."
"Dirty talk, hm," she hums happily. "I like it."
He rolls his eyes playfully. "Of course you do. You love anything that involves talking."
"Hey!" she complains. She doesn't get to say much else, though, because his mouth presses against her pussy, and she gasps. She can't move her hips much with the pose of his arm, but she presses her heels into his back and tugs at his hair, helping him get to the position and place that has her squirming best. She feels the pleasure coiling within her as his tongue rhythmically flicks against her clit, and she knows she'll get to the edge soon enough if he puts his fingers inside of her. She can feels them teasing her thigh, and she opens her mouth to make her demand—
He pulls away instead.
"What the fuck," she cries out.
She tries to rock her hips back to his face, but he's holding her down too efficiently. "Still think it's nothing?" he asks.
Lucy blinks. "Are you kidding me right now?"
"I'm not," he confirms, smirking. Her head falls back as she groans.
Fine. If he wants to play games, she'll play games too. She reaches her hand down and—
Tim smacks it away, frowning. "No."
But she knows he can only keep one hand away at a time, so she reaches down again. This time, her fingers find purchase on her clit. She can tell he's not thrilled about it, because he makes a low rumbling sound deep in his throat, and suddenly, both her wrists are in his hand, pushed off to the side.
She smirks victoriously as he dives back into her, his tongue immediately curling into her cunt as his lip grazes against her clit. She pulls her hands out of his grip—it's not like he was holding her that tightly; he only wanted to make a point—and one finds purchase in his hair, pulling her into him.
With a hand now free, his tongue draws out of her core, replaced with two of his fingers. He curls them inside her, pressing against the sensitive spot within her, and she twitches against him, her head throwing back against the top of the couch.
Her breaths come in short little puffs as he licks up and down her bundle of nerves repeatedly, his fingers expertly moving within her. The tightness in her belly grows until suddenly it's snapping, and before she can even register what's happening, she's curling into him, her legs pulling him impossibly close, her hand pulling roughly against his hair as she gasps for breath.
His pace doesn't let up as she rides the high, her thighs trembling around his shoulders. Holy fuck. She chases after the feeling as best as she can, and it lasts for what her mind registers as an eternity and no time at all before she sags against the couch, boneless and sensitive. Gently, she pushes Tim away.
When Lucy looks at him, he's leaning back against his heels, looking entirely too smug.
Languidly, she slides her toes up his thigh. She sees his erection is back.
"Want me to ride you or what?" she asks impatiently, unimpressed he's not already halfway there.
"Fuck yes," he answers, lunging up to crash his lips to hers. Not wasting any time, she shoves his shoulder until he gets the hint and sits back on the couch.
"Where'd you put the condom?" she asks against his lips. Tim is a planner—there's gotta be one in his vicinity.
"Jeans pocket," he answers.
Lucy pulls away just far enough so that she can use her foot to pull over his nearby jeans, until it's close enough to reach down and grasp into her hands, without never leaving Tim's arms. He retracts slightly, blinking at her.
"Did you just monkey-maneuver that?" he asks, slightly baffled.
She scrunches her nose at him as she fishes the condom packet out of the back pocket. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You just grabbed that with your toes," he points out.
"I swallowed your bodily fluids less than ten minutes ago and you're focusing on that?" she asked, befuddled. "Do you want to get laid or not?"
His jaw drops, retort on his tongue, before his mouth promptly closes. "We'll discuss it later," he concedes. At her unamused expression, he amends to, "Or never."
Appeased, Lucy opens up the package as tosses the wrapper and the pants aside.
She sits astride his legs, kneeling above him as she takes his cock into her hand and rolls the condom down his length. She lines herself up with him, then, in one smooth stroke, she takes him inside her.
"Oh," she sighs quietly, feeling complete.
Tim makes a low noise, his arms coming around her back to pull their chests together. He slants his lips against hers, his teeth biting her bottom lip softly. She uses his shoulders as leverage as she lifts herself up, before coming back down, and repeating the process a few times. She bounces above him, pace picking up, and as she goes faster and harder, he breaks the kiss. He mouths at her neck as he thrusts up into her, but it's more heated breaths against her skin than anything else.
When her thighs begin to burn and her knees start to wobble, she instead rolls her hips back and forth, and bites back an unsatisfied moan when it doesn't seem to hit the spots she wants. But, Tim, her savior, taps against her waist, and she lets her body relax as he lifts her off of him. He guides her back to the couch, pushing her knees to her chest as he twists her body to the side, before slamming inside of her. Her eyes roll back as she cries out—this position feels even more intense than before.
"You're so tight like this," he groans as he moves in and out of her. She gasps in approval as his hands firmly keep her knees in place. His eyes are screwed shut. "How close are you?"
"Close," she whimpers. She knows he is too.
He begins to hammer into her, pushing against her core in a way that grinds perfectly, and in no time, she's gripping his biceps and panting and pulsing around him. And, like he's been waiting until she came to let himself go, he jerks against her, hissing out.
This time, when they're done, it's a little more practiced, and a little less panicked. She excuses herself to go to the bathroom, grabbing her clothes along the way.
Lucy realizes that this is the first time they've really been naked with each other. She supposes there was the night of the wedding, when they finally made it to the bed after their first round, but the memory is clouded by alcohol, and, well...
Being naked during sex is different than being naked after sex. She feels Tim's eyes rake over her body as she fishes the clothes from the ground, and—just to make a point, she uses her toes to expertly toss her panties into the air and catches them in her hand as she twists to give him a determined look. It helps to dispel any potential awkward tension, because he huffs out an amused laugh at the action, and she smirks at him before rushing off to the bathroom.
It's a relief to be less in a hurry to leave. She's not exactly fond of going home messy—much easier to deal with it right after the fact.
By the time she comes out of the bathroom, Tim's dressed again, and Kojo's been freed from whatever prison Tim obviously locked him away in while he was anticipating getting laid.
Lucy immediately kneels next to the dog, pressing kisses into his fur. "Who's a good boy?" Kojo licks her face happily, and she scruffs at his fur.
When she looks back up, Tim's eyeing them with an expression that's an interesting mix between annoyed and fond. She returns it with something smug.
"Are you going to run away now?" he asks.
She gasps dramatically. "I do not run away." At his raised eyebrow, she exhales in defeat. "I escape the situation before it gets too awkward. And I think we're past that stage. Now, I can take my things and leave normally."
As if making a point, she slowly reaches for her purse and slings her car keys in her hands, gearing up to leave.
"Good," Tim says decidedly. "Well, I'll see you at work, Chen."
"Until next time, Bradford," Lucy fires back as she exits out the door.
Lucy decides that, if she's actually going to do this, she needs to set her personal boundaries. She needs rules.
The first two rules are easy; they've already mentioned them with easy agreement, with her requiring the first, and him demanding the second.
1. No one can know.
2. This does not affect work.
She ignores her personal sex rules, because this list is about the arrangement, but necessarily what happens in the bedroom—that list might end up being endless. This one's just for her; it's about keeping their relationship casual, setting boundaries for herself so that she doesn't cross any lines.
Lucy consults Google for the rest of her list, compiling the most common rules everyone seems to list, that make sense for her situation. Because certain rules like, 'Keep interactions minimal' just don't work for them, and she's already broken the 'Always use a condom' rule (besides, she's got an IUD and they're both clean—the condom is just an extra precaution in case they end up not being exclusive), and 'Don't send nudes' is just plain stupid, because if she wants to send nudes, she will. Not that she plans to. But if she wants to, there's no reason she wouldn't.
The rest of her list comes together pretty easily.
3. No sleeping over.
She shouldn't, right? It's just sex. She's never been a big cuddler or pillow-talk person, anyway. She gets in, gets off, then leaves. And she assumes he'll do the same if they're ever here, in her apartment. There's no reason to linger, unless it's just to do things they normally would do as friends, and sex just happened to come first.
But, as a friend, she would never sleep over. So, easy to throw on the list.
4. Only if he's not her boss.
He's bound to be promoted at some point, probably soon. He probably won't even stay at Mid-Wilshire for that, and who knows what happens to this arrangement if they're not seeing each other at work.
Regardless, on the off chance he does get a job at Mid-Wilshire, there's no way they can keep sleeping together. Screw stigma—if they were found sleeping together while he's in her chain of command, they'd probably both get fired.
There's no hesitation about that one.
5. They are not exclusive.
That one is a little harder for her to come to terms with, because even in her most casual relationships, she's always been monogamous. But, in the end, that's what makes a friends with benefits situationship different from a relationship, no matter how casual, right? They're just friends. If he wants to see other people, that's totally up to him. She needs to accept that sooner rather than later.
(5a. Be upfront if seeing anyone else.)
The addition helps ease her mind. She doesn't see herself having sex with multiple people concurrently, but she puts the guideline down anyway. She hopes he'd provide the same courtesy.
6. NO CATCHING FEELINGS!
She's not really that concerned about the last one, but it's on every single page she reads on friends with benefits situations. It's just about the most common rule. So, she includes it.
And, with that, her list is complete.
It takes a few shifts for the heat to build up this time. She notices now, that Tim does eye her hungrily, a little more with each shift. But at least they have a plan. An agreement.
"So, what are you doing tonight?" Lucy asks innocently, a little less than a week after the previous encounter.
"Nothing," he says, before his voice drops an octave as he adds, "I hope."
She smiles slyly. "Nothing sounds perfect."
"Are you like, the kind of guy that is turned off by feet or something?" Lucy asks snarkily when they're getting undressed. "Do I need to keep my socks on?"
"Your feet are perfectly fine," Tim insists.
"Perfectly fine monkey feet, apparently," she quips back.
"I didn't mean it like that!" he protests. "I just—it was cute. I didn't expect it, that's all."
It fills Lucy with a warmth she didn't anticipate. She takes her socks off.
"I'm home alone and I feel like doing a whole lot of nothing," Lucy says as soon as Tim picks up the phone, five days after that. There's no shift for them that day, but she's feeling needy and wanton.
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes," he says gruffly.
Lucy slips her hand into her pants. "I'm getting started without you."
Tim makes it there in ten.
Lucy finds out quickly that her favorite place to be is on her back, sprawled out, with Tim between her legs.
After the last time, it takes them a week to feel the need burning again. It helps that they've been extremely busy—the whole station had an emergency that had them up for almost two days straight. The exhaustion crash from that lasted throughout her off days, then it was almost like a reset when they returned to work.
Tim seems to be on a mission to torture her, today. He's already gotten one orgasm out of her with his mouth, but apart from a short pause to let her recover, he hasn't stopped. As soon as she seems ready to move again, his lips come back around her clit, sucking, his tongue dipping out, and her eyes are rolling back all over again. By now, he's figured out what makes her tick, and knows exactly how to make her come.
Her next orgasm crashes through her, rolling like waves through her body as her back lifts off the bed. Her hands go everywhere—her tits, her mouth, his hair, the headboard—in desperation. Her thighs quiver against his shoulders, and when she glances at him briefly, she sees he's watching her come undone, smug smile on his lips as his head lifts up and down, tongue dragging across her pussy.
She's overly sensitive, and he's not stopping, and it feels so fucking overwhelming but also so good, and tears are springing at her eyes as she rocks her hips into his face. She feels that third high, desperate for it, except when her clit is overstimulated like this, she tends to—
"If you keep going like that, there's a chance I'll squirt," she warns as she pulls out of reach.
She immediately realizes her mistake the second she sees Tim's pupils dilate and the corners of his lips upturn.
"Wait, Tim, that wasn't meant to be a challenge—"
Lucy yelps and giggles as he grabs her by the ankle and roughly pulls her back to his mouth, a new mission in mind.
Sometimes, their encounters are a little more unexpected.
Lucy tilts her head, slanting her lips against his as she makes out with Tim on the couch, the TV on in the background. She's straddling him, grinding slightly against his erection. Their shirts are off, but not much else is. She's not in any rush right now, and is enjoying something a little slower and more lazy.
She yelps as she feels a sudden cold and wet snout press against the bare skin of her back. She twists her body as Tim angles himself to look at what the commotion is.
"Kojo!" Tim snaps. "Get out of here!"
The dog blinks up at them before sticking his tongue out and panting happily. Lucy tries to shoo him away, and Tim gently shoves him in some kind of direction, but Kojo doesn't really leave more than a couple feet.
"Just ignore him," Tim mutters as he moves his lips to her neck.
For a minute, Lucy is content to do exactly that, humming small little sighs as he sucks and nips at her skin. Then, she feels the wet and cold nose again.
"Kojo," Tim hisses out. "Go away. Or you're not getting salmon for a week."
Kojo doesn't move.
Tim looks at Lucy accusingly. "Why is your dog so clingy?"
"My dog?" she snarks.
"You picked him!"
"You're the one who didn't put him outside before I started taking my clothes off," she blames.
Begrudgingly defeated, Tim gets up, dragging the dog by the collar to the backyard. He shuts the backdoor, looking victorious, and joins Lucy back on the couch.
"He's just staring at us, now," she harshly whispers, as Kojo looks at them stupidly, tongue hanging out of his mouth, from the glass door.
"Just ignore him," Tim repeats. "He'll get bored and try to dig a hole or something instead."
With that, he pushes her against the couch, and she wraps her arms around his neck as they begin making out again. She slides her knees open, letting him rest between them, pressing their clothed cores together. He moves his lips to her neck, his thumb swiping against her jaw as he pushes her face to the side to give him some room. He begins to lower the strap of her bra as his mouth reaches her shoulder.
Lucy hears a slight scratching sound.
She pops an eye open. Kojo's now looking extremely sad, clawing against the ground where the door would open.
"Tim," she whines, nudging him off. He exhales unhappily, sitting up. "He's still watching us. Poor baby."
"He's the one you feel bad for right now?" Tim scoffs, but with a shake of his head, he gets off of her anyway.
Neither of them feel like having sex after that, so they order pizza and watch Top Chef instead, Kojo happily sitting between them on the couch.
Their arrangement works perfectly. At work, they're nothing but professional, now that they've settled into their rhythm. Knowing that she can have him at any time makes the tension both better and worse.
It's a little too easy to get caught up in the memory of a recent tryst—Lucy often finds herself fantasizing about how easy it would be to pull him into the closet and have her wicked way with him, or wondering how it would be to drag him into the back of their shop.
But, whatever pull they feel, whenever the thrum in her bones begins to sing, it's easy to push it away for later. She knows all it'll take is one whisper, one text, or one call, and Tim will make sure she's ending the night extremely satisfied.
When sex isn't on her mind—which it mostly isn't, when she's at work—it's easy to fall into stride with exactly how their relationship was before they'd ever slept together. Their banter remains as easy as ever, and she's just as nosy as she's ever been. Tim, on his end, also remains just as annoying tight-lipped as ever, as well.
Today, Lucy has news. Exciting news. She spots Tim walking through the bullpen, and quickly catches up.
She falls into step with him, a large grin on her face.
"So, I heard that Sergeant Russo is retiring next month," Lucy tells him conspiratorially.
Tim turns to her sharply for a brief moment. "How'd you know about that?"
"Smitty," she answers. "Don't you see what this means?"
He doesn't answer.
"Our roving sergeant is retiring, Tim. A spot at Mid-Wilshire is opening—you can get your promotion!"
He still doesn't say anything.
"Is that what Grey was talking to you about?" she pushes.
Finally, Tim stops walking, and she does as well. He nods tersely.
Lucy frowns at his lack of enthusiasm. "What's wrong? Did Grey say something against it? Did someone else already get the job?"
"No," he answers. "Grey wants to recommend me to the brass. There's still all the formalities and interviews, but the job is mine if I want it."
"Oh," she responds. "So, what's the problem?"
He hesitates as he stares at her.. "It's nothing."
"I know you don't like change, but this is a good one. It's a big promotion, and you wouldn't even have to leave Mid-Wilshire. It's the same environment, but even better," Lucy points out. "You'd be crazy not to go for it."
Tim stares at her for a long moment before agreeing, "Yeah. You're right."
Their friendship thrives, too.
Sex is, in this case, a little more in the forefront of their friendly interactions, because they're not stuffed by professional etiquette. Instead, their main barrier is their coworkers, who also are their main friends. So, nights out are a little more careful, but Tim will still take the corner seat next to her in the dim light, and his hands most definitely trail up her thigh throughout the night as their friends gossip around them.
Nothing overt. Nothing that's too much. If anyone saw it, they might raise an eyebrow, but it's nothing they can't talk out of. It's not like he's groping her. It's just a hand on her thigh, when they're all pressed together like sardines.
But, Lucy knows what it is. And, every time, she finds some way to subtly end up at his place afterwards.
They keep up with paintballing. They still go on their regular hikes. Nothing in their friendship suffers, despite the brief pause before their arrangement was made. It's nice, really, to hype herself up on the adrenaline of the shooting range, making bets with Tim, before going to his place and getting fucked so thoroughly she forgets what they even made a bet about.
And, well, when a little voice in her head whispers about how this feels easier and more real than every casual relationship she's ever had, she shoves it down hard, because it's not like that. Of course it's easy—they're not trying. They're just friends, and they have the added benefit of sex. It's literally called friends with benefits. And the benefits are great.
"So, how's the promotion process going?" Lucy asks as they're hiking through the brush of the hill not too far from his house. Kojo is pulling slightly against the leash she's holding. She wants to let him wander further, but Tim's already scolded her more than the dog about being too lax. She's not even supposed to be letting him pull.
"Good," Tim answers casually. "The Captain approved my memo of interest. Grey interviewed me—just a formality though. Next week, I'll meet with the Captain. I think there's someone from West Hollywood interviewing, too."
"Yeah, but we know it'll be you," she says confidently, smiling.
He looks at her curiously. "You seem very invested in this."
"Of course I am," she quips back. "You know how many hours I put into getting you to pass that Sergeant's exam?"
She expects him to laugh, but he doesn't.
"Can I ask you something?" he asks instead.
She looks at him, a little surprised at his uncertainty. "Of course."
"Do you remember everything about the night of the wedding?"
Lucy is struck by flashes of their first time together—teeths clashing as their mouths move against each other, desperately hailing for a taxi. At his place, dress pushed up to her waist, palms against the wall, hard body behind her. After that, uncoordinated movements on the bed.
Of course she remembers. She spent two weeks dreaming about it before it happened again.
Mainly, she's not sure why this is coming up two months later.
"Yeah," she answers as Kojo tugs forward.
"Really?" he asks doubtfully.
She glances at him, frowning. "Well, mostly. It's fuzzy. There's some bits before we left that are missing. But nothing...from when we left the venue."
His face falls slightly. It comes to her, then, that he's probably feeling guilty about their situation. He'd been her boss, only a month before they first slept together, and now he's about to be her boss again. It's not like they did anything wrong, but it is a messy situation for sure.
"You didn't take advantage of me, if that's what you're worried about," Lucy says. "And you're not now, either."
He doesn't seem convinced.
"Jackson mentioned we fought that night," she brings up.
Slowly, Tim nods. "We did."
She sighs. "Sorry about that. Drunk Lucy can be a little...expressive. I'm guessing it was something stupid like stepping on my toes."
"Something like that."
She glances at him, forehead crinkling. "Was there...something important?" she asks.
He's silent for a moment, before answering, "No."
Lucy breathes out a sigh of relief. Good. She didn't say something stupid that he's been agonizing over for two months. That would be embarrassing.
She hums. "I'm just glad the dress paid off. I did look very hot in it." She lets Kojo pull her ahead, leaving Tim to stew in that little memory.
"You did," he husks behind her. She smirks, the hint of an idea coming to mind for another day.
The rest of their walk is mostly in silence, with only small little observations here and there, and Tim admonishing her when Kojo tugs a little too much. It's not her fault that his dog got excited by a butterfly. He's a dog.
Towards the end of their hike, she asks, "You hungry?"
"Yeah," he answers, and when Lucy looks back at him, he's got a heat in his eyes that tells her he isn't thinking about food.
After the hike, Tim throws Kojo into the backyard as quick as he can, and then he eats her out as she's propped up against the kitchen counter.
A couple days later, Lucy surprises him by showing up in the infamous green dress. She revels in how his eyes rake over her, and she lets him push her into the wall and fuck her from behind with the dress still on, just like he did that night.
This time, when she comes first, she finishes him off in her mouth, enjoying how much warmer his cock is after just being in her cunt.
In the end, it's so much better sober.
Rarely, they're at Lucy's apartment. Tim's been over maybe two times prior to now, but his place is much easier without the stress of two roommates, even if he does have a jealous dog. One of her roommates is their coworker, and they're both very much under the agreement that none of their coworkers can know about this—not even her live-in best friend who knows just about every other secret she has.
They're naked in her bed; Tim's fingers slide against her wet folds as she pumps his cock, their breaths mingling as their foreheads press together.
She freezes as she hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. "Shit," she says, as Tim stares down at her. Seconds later, she hears Jackson's muffled voice, clearly on the phone with someone. Then, there's the sound of him plopping down on the couch.
Goddamn it. Is Tim going to be stuck here? Is she going to have to stuff him in her closet? Does her window have a fire escape? She realizes she probably should've checked that ages ago.
Lucy immediately rolls under him and onto her stomach, grabbing her phone. She's not sure what her plan is—somehow get Jackson out of the house, just long enough to get Tim out. Or—even more ideal—long enough to let her finish what she started, without the risk of a roommate figuring them out.
Tim, on the other hand, has other ideas. He settles on top of her, his knees between hers, and he brushes her hair off her body. "Guess we'll have to be quiet," he says, his mouth descending on the back of her neck.
"I have to be quiet?" she hisses, but makes no effort to throw him off. "You're the one who's loud!"
He snickers against her skin, and before she knows it, he's slipping his cock into her. She immediately moans before shoving her mouth into the pillow to quiet herself as she fists her hands against the sheets, and when she surfaces, she's biting her bottom lip so hard that she's shocked she hasn't drawn blood.
The strategy doesn't last long, because the next time he pushes in, her lips fly open as she gasps.
"Now who's the loud one?" Tim whispers against her ear, before pushing his thumb into her mouth to silence her as he fucks her leisurely.
The next day, when they're paired together on shift, Tim rolls his eyes as she goes on one of her many rants. "Do you have the ability to be quiet?" he asks after.
There's nothing sexual to his tone at all—nothing that even indicates he's thinking about the previous night. But Lucy only smirks and responds, "You know I do."
He gapes at her at that, unable to form a proper response. He spends the next hour of the shift looking awfully uncomfortable, shifting his wool pants frequently.
"Meet me in the garage after you change out," Tim growls at her as soon as their shift is done and they hop out of the shop.
"For what?"
"For nothing."
As soon as the shift is over, Lucy hops into his truck, and she sucks his cock as he reaches over and slides his fingers into her core. They get each other off in the garage of the station, and it's the riskiest thing they've done so far, even in the low light, with no other cars around them. The thrill of it brings her to the edge faster than she'd like to admit, and she swallows every drop he blows into her mouth when he comes.
Tim pets her hair softly after they're done.
"You're gonna be the death of me, Chen."
Lucy might be addicted to Tim, she realizes. She can barely go three days without craving him inside her at this point. It seems to be the same with him—he's texting her more and more frequently, inviting her over for nothing, dragging her into bed so that he can pound into her until they're both spent.
It's no different this time, until it is.
"Alright, Bradford, I need you to—WHAT THE FUCK!"
In an instant, Tim's all limbs, and Lucy is scrambling to pull up the covers over both of them. She's shocked to see a startled Angela at the doorway, frozen, as she blinks at the two of them with a key in her hands.
Apparently, they'd been so into it, that they hadn't heard her open the door and walk in. Or knock, if she had done so.
"What the hell are you doing here, Lopez?!" Tim yells out.
"What am I doing here?" she screeches. "What happened to not fucking your rookie!"
"Ex-rookie," Lucy corrects quickly, automatically, before shrinking under Angela's hard gaze.
"Follow me," she orders her, eyes fiery and firm. Lucy hesitates, eyeing her undressed self. "Now."
Lucy wraps a sheet around her body as she follows Angela out of the room, looking back at Tim desperately. These are interrogation tactics—separating the suspects without a chance for them to be alone, so they can't clear up their stories.
Angela stops firmly in the kitchen, leaning heavily against the counter, staring at Lucy with something she can't quite decipher. Feeling naked under her gaze—she's certainly naked just under this sheer sheet—Lucy wraps the sheet tighter and tucks the corner into itself to secure it.
"Oh, come on, Chen, we share a locker room. I've seen it all—it's Bradford's ass that's a surprise," Angela points out. Lucy only tightens the bedsheet around herself. "Alright. When did this start?"
"Uh." Lucy grimaces before confessing, "The night of your wedding. Sporadically."
Angela laughs. "Timothy is such a liar."
"Sorry?" She doesn't know what she's apologizing for.
Angela only sighs. "I hate to ask, but is he in any way making you feel like you have to—"
"No!" Lucy immediately exclaims. "Absolutely not! Tim would never—"
"Okay. Good," she responds with a pleased nod. "Tim's my best friend and all, and I don't see him ever intentionally doing that. But he's a man. And I think sometimes men don't realize the position they put us in, even if they don't mean it."
"It's not like that," she assures, slightly calmer. She's touched that Angela would check, now that she understands the reasoning. "I did most of the initiating. We're just having fun and it'll end the minute he gets the new position."
"You seem awfully confident about that," Angela notes.
Lucy frowns. "Well, Grey's backing him, and he'd be amazing in the position—I don't see how he wouldn't get it."
"Not that," Angela starts, and then her face twists in a funny way. She holds a finger up. "Actually, hold that thought." Her forehead wrinkles in pain, and she bends over slightly, hand over her swollen belly.
Lucy looks at her with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Angela breathes out, eyes shutting closed. "Just peachy. Can you get Tim?"
"TIM?" Lucy yells out, much more concerned with that response than before. Tim strolls in, casually, now fully dressed, almost looking like he's about to be scolded.
Immediately, upon seeing Angela seemingly in pain, he rushes over. "What's going on?"
"Can you grab the bag by the door?" Angela asks.
Tim and Lucy both look over to see a duffle bag sitting at the front entrance.
"What's the bag for?"
"It's just my birthing kit," she answers simply.
"Why did you bring a birthing kit to my house?" Tim asks dumbly, as Lucy begins to have a horrifying realization.
Angela blows out a few deep breaths, before standing back straight. "Because I'm about to have a baby."
"WHAT?!" both of them exclaim loudly.
"I thought you weren't due for another week!" Lucy continues.
"Looks like the baby's impatient. But not too impatient—contractions are still about five minutes apart."
Tim blinks at her, incredulous, almost panicked. "What are you doing here, then?!" Lucy immediately rushes over and begins leading the to-be-mother to the door and Tim quickly reaches for the duffle bag.
"Wesley's in court and you weren't answering your phone," Angela explains easily. "I tried driving myself and then worried that I could get another contraction and you were closer than the hospital. So, come on, God-Daddy. You're filling in until he's done."
Tim stares at her, slack-jawed, and Lucy has to nudge his shoulder to shake him back into reality.
"Right, okay," he says quickly as he grabs his keys from the entrance and runs outside. Lucy makes sure the bedsheet is tucked properly, before stepping outside of the house with Angela, guiding her to the car. Tim's already got the duffle stuffed in the back by the time they make it there.
Lucy can't imagine how this whole scene looks to anyone who might be watching—her, barefoot and wrapped in a bedsheet, shoving a pregnant lady into a car, while Tim stands back, looking like he's about to run the other direction in panic.
"This whole detour will never be a part of my birth story," Angela tells the two of them pointedly, just as another contraction hits and she doubles over in pain.
"Definitely not," Lucy agrees. She gives the woman an encouraging smile. "Good luck with the baby!"
It's seemingly the wrong thing to say to someone in the middle of a contraction, because Angela screams ferally in response.
Lucy turns to Tim, a little helpless, and unsure what else to do.
"I'll see you later," he tells her, almost regretful.
She nods, pushing him towards the driver's side. "Yeah. Yeah. Take care of Angela."
Tim leans forward and presses his lips to hers sweetly. It only lasts a moment before he pulls away and is getting inside the car in a hurry.
It takes Lucy about five minutes later, when she's dressed and headed back outside, to realize what he did.
Little Jack—who Angela insists is not named after Jackson, despite her old rookie's pleased looks every time it comes up—is adorable. Everyone immediately coos after him, and he's everyone's main priority.
Between the thrill of a friend's new baby and work, Tim and Lucy aren't alone together in private for over a week. Which, at the start of this, had been a normal cadence to their meetups, but now, it feels like an eternity.
Lucy decides she's not going to bring up the kiss, because there's no point to it. It'd been a surprising situation, shortly after being interrupted mid-coitus. The kiss had been nothing but a slip of the mind in an adrenaline-fueled panic. That's all.
It's been three months since the wedding, and a little over two months since their arrangement was solidified. It's been going so smoothly, that it's just not saying anything that might disrupt it.
They probably should talk about Angela knowing, though. That's kind of a really big deal. Lucy's never had a baby before, but she's pretty sure she can't be hopeful that Angela had some kind of amnesia to go along with the labor, even if she doesn't say a word in all the times she's come to visit her and the baby since.
When things finally calm down, and Lucy finds herself back at Tim's house again, they waste absolutely no time. It seems this extended break had him just on edge as it had her.
She's in his arms almost immediately, and he's carrying her to his bedroom. He slams the door shut with his foot before setting her down hurriedly. From there, it's a race to strip themselves of their clothes, zero hesitation between them. She's so wet that she doesn't even need foreplay, she knows. She's been waiting for this for days.
She crawls up the bed, delighted when he places his hands on her hips, but is a little confused when he leverages her to spin around, back on the mattress.
"I want to see you," Tim mumbles, before kissing her hard. He drops his hand, pressing his fingers against her. "You're fucking soaked."
"I need you," she whines desperately. She lifts her body, his cock sliding between her folds. She grips him and lines him up, angling her body so that he enters her. His face immediately drops to her neck, breathing deeply.
Then, he stills slightly. "Fuck," he moans out. "Condom."
Lucy whimpers as he pulls out and climbs slightly to the side of the bed, grabbing condoms he handily has lying in his bedside table now. Impatient, she pulls it out of his grasp, pushes him on his back as she throws her leg over him, her wetness now coating his stomach, and rips the condom packet with her teeth. She wastes no time rolling the condom over him before impaling herself on his dick.
She moans, satisfied, when they're finally connected.
"God, Lucy, I missed you," Tim gasps.
"I missed you, too," she cries out softly as she leans down to kiss his jaw as she begins to rock her body over him. She's so on edge already, and she can't even imagine how he's feeling. She throws her head back, pushing her hair out of her face before planting both hands on his chest and riding him in earnest.
Lucy has no mercy as she bounces on top of him. Tim's hands roam everywhere it can touch, just as desperate as she is, and something about his despair is so hot. She clenches the walls of her cunt hard, and watches as he obviously loses control for a brief second before steadying himself.
"I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that," he says sternly, stilling her hips. Defiantly, she clenches again anyway, smirking as his eyes flicker and he inhales sharply. She likes a challenge. Her agony is replaced by determination, and she rides him with the goal of driving him as insane as she possibly can. She reaches to briefly press her hand against his neck—nothing with pressure, but enough to watch as his eyes darken with need, before she slips back down to pinch at his nipple as she clenches her walls again. His eyes roll back, his thrusts up stuttering.
She reaches back, gently reaching the area under his balls that she knows is sensitive, and strokes. And, with that, he's coming in full force.
He curves his body into her as his hips stutter into her, shouting out loudly. She laughs, her cheek falling on the top of his head as she rides him through the high. She feels giddy in the victory, despite not achieving the orgasm she'd been desperate for.
Tim slumps back, spent, eyes closed, breathing deeply. She leans down, pressing soft kisses into his hairline as she giggles, before slipping off of his cock and taking off the condom. Slowly, she gets out of bed to dispose of it.
She didn't come, but she's fine with it. She knows he's good for it, as soon as he gets over from coming as hard as he did. She's a little too proud of herself right now to really mourn the feeling of her halted build-up.
When Lucy returns to the bed, his eyes open slightly, looking at her with a dazed expression.
"Give me a minute," he breathes in promise, before slinging his arm around her belly to pull her in to lay next to him. His head comes up to nuzzle between her breasts.
Her nails rake comfortingly against his scalp. This is probably the closest they've really come to cuddling—they don't tend to pause like this during sex. But she finds that she enjoys it, and Tim is a little clingier than she imagined he would be.
His lips press against her skin deliberately; softly and slow at first, but quickly picks up in pacing and firmness as he makes his way down her chest, his hand grazing up her thigh.
She giggles as his tongue dips into her belly button, ticklish, but surprisingly aroused by the action. She feels as he chuckles against her skin, the actions sending vibrations through her, and he swipes his tongue into the concave again as his arm lifts up her leg.
From there, he settles easily into the familiar action of eating her out, his tongue lapping up all the wetness. He doesn't restrict her hips at all, only holding her thighs to help her move her hips against his mouth. Lucy complies happily, moving at a pace that suits her, one she knows will bring her to the edge in no time.
She glances down, and the way he's looking up at her with such intensity while his mouth is devouring her cunt absolutely destroys her. Tim groans against her, and the vibrations rumble through her core in a way that has her choking for breath.
She reaches her peak faster than she anticipated, her mouth gaping wide open as she lets out a silent scream, her hips jerking desperately against his tongue as she comes harder than she has in a really long time.
Lucy almost ends up dozing off after that, which gets her moving more than anything. This time, it seems all their clothes stayed in the bedroom, so she rifles through it easily, putting on her own underwear and tossing Tim his garments as she comes across them.
He puts on his boxers, but the rest he just leaves on the bed—it's his house, after all; she's sure he's going to put on something more comfortable than jeans when she leaves.
Instead, he just watches her, barely moving.
She fastens her bra and then jumps into her pants, shimmying it over her hips. She throws on her shirt and fixes her hair over it.
"I got the promotion," Tim says suddenly as she's tucking her shirt into her jeans.
Immediately, she twists her body around to look at him. She's beaming, because he deserves it—he's been excited ever since he realized he passed the test, only to turn down North Hollywood for her. And this one is in Mid-Wilshire, so she'll still get to see him, even if that means...
Well, it means they won't be able to keep doing this.
"That's amazing!" she exclaims genuinely. She taps him on his arm with excitement, grinning widely. "I knew you'd get it! And you don't even have to leave Mid-Wilshire."
"Yeah." Tim smiles back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Lucy, with the promotion, I'll be in your chain of command again—"
"I know," she quickly interjects, trying to spare him from the awkwardness. It's fine. She knew this day was coming, and his career is much more important than her libido. Lucy's happy for him. She offers him a small smile. "It's been fun while it lasted, though."
His face remains stoic as he eyes her carefully. "Yeah, it has."
She walks out of Tim's house that day knowing fully that it's probably the last time they'll ever get to do that. Maybe she should've savored it more. She pauses as she reaches her car, wondering if maybe she should go back inside.
Lucy shakes her head to herself, before getting into her car and driving away.
It can't happen again. It's better to accept that now.