***
Felipe strolled into the lab two hours later only to find it empty. His heart kicked behind his ribs at the stillness, but there was no sign of a struggle or any indication that Oliver had tried to autopsy their John Doe and it had gone horribly wrong. If it had, he would have felt it across the tether, Felipe reminded himself. Oliver had obviously been working and stepped out for a minute. On the bench near the stairs, Oliver had set up a series of beakers and glass tubes, none of which Felipe truly understood the purpose of, but Oliver wouldn’t have left it gurgling if he planned to be gone long. Farther down the wall of benches, Oliver’s notebook lay beside a brass microscope along with a vial of something pink and what looked like iodine. He was about to glance into the microscope when he heard the squeak of the laboratory’s shower turning off.
A small smile crossed his lips as he ducked down the hall and waited for Oliver to emerge. Through the thin wall, he listened to the ruff of the towel against Oliver’s hair and the snick of the jar of Vaseline opening. Felipe bit back a laugh at the way his partner half-sung a masher’s song under his breath before trailing off into his bathtime to-do list. As soon as he said, “Robe,” Felipe held it out for him around the cubical wall.
“You’re back!” Oliver replied as his wet hand clasped Felipe’s arm before grabbing the dressing gown. A smile warmed his voice even if Felipe couldn’t see his face. “How did it go?”
“Not bad all things considered. I helped DeSanto in the photography lab in exchange for him running a copy of our dead man’s portrait over to Mulberry Street as soon as it’s dry. He said he’ll give us another copy tomorrow along with the rest.”
“Did the picture need to be touched up?”
“No. I mean, you could still see the veins, but it wasn’t bad enough to fix.” With the edge of his foot, Felipe slid Oliver’s waiting slippers closer. “I don’t know how long it’ll take DeSanto to get back from police headquarters, so I told him to just send the notes from the Livingston case through the tubes. I seriously doubt he’ll be back before dinner, so I have time to kill.”
“Me too. The distillation I have running should confirm if the ink from the book contained synthetic dye, but I also found a workaround that I need to show you.”
The reply died on Felipe’s lips when Oliver slid back the oilcloth curtain and stepped out in his hunter green robe. No matter how many times he saw Oliver, Felipe still found him arresting. He loved how the starkness of his black hair and pale skin contrasted with the pink of his lips. Where others found him off-putting armored in his suit of funereal charcoal and stiff politeness, Felipe knew that beneath all of that was his Oliver, who had a prattling inner monologue complete with musical interludes and an irrational fear of frogs. His Oliver experimented with colorful waistcoats and ties and snuggled under quilts his nana had made for him. The tether tightened in Felipe’s breast as his eyes traced the boyish tousle of Oliver’s wet hair before sliding down to the heat coloring his cheeks and the triangle of pale skin peeking from between his lapels. His Oliver was so much more than people gave him credit for. As Oliver smiled, Felipe closed the gap between them with a kiss.
“Want to see what I came up with?” Oliver asked, his pewter eyes bright.
Glee rushed across the tether as he led Felipe to the microscope. Oliver quickly adjusted the lenses, but when Felipe looked at the slide, all he could make out was a field of pink blobs and squiggles interspersed with purple dots.
“I’m not sure what I’m looking at.”
“Oh, bacteria and skin cells, mostly. You see those purple dots? They are our proof that the killer used modern, synthetic ink for the book curse.”
When Felipe looked up, he found Oliver biting his lip with an excitement that was contagious. “Do they now?”
“Yes! You see the purple ones are called gram positive bacteria because when you do a dyeing method called a gram stain, the purple dye only sticks to their cell walls. That purple dye is methyl violet, which is the same dye that’s in ink. This wouldn’t be significant, except instead of using the vial of methyl violet from the supply closet, I separated the dead man’s blood in the centrifuge, decanted the ink that rose to the top, and used that to stain a slide of my spit. Purple paint from the sixteenth century wouldn’t stick to these bacteria the same way that methyl violet will, so it has to be modern.”
When Felipe didn’t say anything, Oliver ran a nervous hand through his hair and quickly added, “I sort of made the process up, so I’m not sure how admissible it will be in court or if it even makes sense to anyone but me. That’s why I have the distillation going, to doublecheck my work. If that contains methyl violet, then we can safely say the book curse was modern.”
The excitement that had flooded together cooled to a roil of anxiety as Oliver watched him expectantly. Felipe didn’t understand half of the science behind what Oliver said, but he trusted Oliver not to mislead him. To come up with a test on the fly— Felipe shook his head. No, that anxiety wouldn’t do.Cupping Oliver’s face, he stared into his eyes for a long moment before kissing him. He had expected Oliver to freeze or be confused, but his partner melted into him, his arms wrapping around him as if he didn’t dare let him go.
When Felipe pulled back for air, Oliver breathlessly asked, “What was that for?”
“For reminding me how lucky I am to have such a clever partner.”
A blush rose across Oliver’s cheeks in time with a bashful smile that made Felipe’s chest warm. Running a finger down Felipe’s spine, Oliver whispered, “Would you like to continue what we started before?”
Chapter Eight
Patience and Safety
The blood rushed to Felipe’s cock at the banked fire in Oliver’s gaze. “Now?”
“You said you have time to kill, and I don’t plan on finishing our John Doe’s autopsy now that I’m clean. I just thought we could take a little time for ourselves since we can’t really do anything until we have our results, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine too; I can wait.”
In answer, Felipe kissed Oliver again, longer and slower this time. His tongue traced Oliver’s lip and dipped into his mouth, his squeak of surprise slipping into a hum of pleasure. Through his robe, Felipe could feel Oliver’s body stir in time with the press of his lips and the slide of his hand along his backside. This was what he had wanted all day.
“Not here,” Oliver said breathlessly, forcing himself to stop when Felipe’s hand brushed the knot of his robe. “The lab has safety rules for a reason.”
A laugh escaped Felipe’s lips as he took Oliver’s hand and led him through the closet and into their basement bedroom. Warm amber light drifted through the windows over the bed as the sun set, chasing away any greyness that had lingered that morning. Felipe paused only long enough to kick off his shoes and toss his paper-laden jacket onto the desk chair. He was about to reach for his tie when Oliver collided with him in a tangle of lips andlimbs. Reaching for the edge of the desk for support, Felipe bit back a bark of surprise when Oliver nudged him onto it. Felipe wrapped his legs around Oliver as the other man kissed him so deeply he could scarcely think. His long, clever fingers trailed through his curls and cupped his head as the other hand snaked across his buttons and tie. As he peeled away his waistcoat and shirt, goosebumps rushed across his skin and the tether pulled taut as a bowstring. He needed this. He needed Oliver after the day they had had. Felipe gasped as Oliver tugged him closer until he stood between his legs, his hardening cock pressing against Felipe’s thigh. Oliver’s tongue and teeth skimmed and soothed the tender flesh of his neck, but it was the sudden chill of his hand slipping beneath his undershirt that sent a shudder through Felipe.
“Let me take this off,” Felipe said, his voice rough with need. When Oliver released him, Felipe shrugged off his suspenders and struggled to tug his undershirt over his head with shaking hands. Felipe tossed it aside, ready to kiss Oliver again, but the breath caught in his throat as Oliver locked eyes with him and sank to his knees. Felipe’s pulse hammered in his ears as his partner languidly rubbed his palm against the bulge in his striped wool trousers and inclined his head in question. At Felipe’s tight nod, a knowing smile curled Oliver’s lips as he unbuttoned Felipe’s fly and freed his straining cock. The naked hunger in his lover’s storm grey eyes as he looked up at him pulled a moan from his throat.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?” Oliver whispered as he nuzzled Felipe’s thigh and pressed his lips to the base of his shaft. A tremulous breath escaped his lips at the flick of Oliver’s tongue against his skin as it languidly ran from the base to the tip. The sight of Oliver nestled between his legs sent the blood rushing from his head, but when Felipe locked eyes with him again, he barely had time to brace himself before Oliver tookhim to the hilt. Hot rushes of pleasure flooded the tether as Felipe threw his head back against the top of the desk, his fingers tangling in Oliver’s wet hair. Shutting his eyes, he tightened his legs around Oliver’s shoulders and gave into the hot, rhythmic pressure of his mouth. Babbled encouragement poured from him in time with the growing tightness in his core. Oliver hadn’t been a novice when they got together, but sometimes, Felipe suspected he took notes on what made his eyes roll back in his head. This time, he wanted to touch him. He wanted Oliver’s body against him, but if he kept it up, there was no way he would last.
“Stop,” Felipe said, his voice ragged. “Stop.”
