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FIC: "An Evening Frozen in Time", Lennie Briscoe/Jack McCoy
Title: An Evening Frozen In Time
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hawkeyecat
Fandom: Law & Order
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Jack/Lennie (Don’t look at me like that…)
Theme: H is for Horology, the science of measuring time.
Length: 691
Disclaimer: *sings "Only In My Dreams"* Dick Wolf won't hand them over, no matter how much I beg.
Author's Note: SAP! Pure, unadulterated SAP. I blame J.K… Thanks tosarcasticsra for being such a wonderful beta.
Lennie sank down on the couch with a groan.
“Long day?” his lover asked, absently flipping through the channels.
“When did I get so old?” Lennie asked rhetorically.
“A few years before me,” Jack replied, settling on a CBS drama.
“I hate this show,” Lennie said grumpily, kicking off his shoes.
“Why is that?”
“Who can afford that kind of testing? Not us—your job and mine would be a lot easier if we could. Besides, they’re not detectives. Why are they questioning suspects?”
Jack pushed gently at Lennie’s shoulder. “What would you rather watch?”
He glanced at the clock. “At nine on a Tuesday? Isn’t that hospital comedy on?”
“You mean the idiotic one where you keep hearing the main character’s thoughts? I don’t think so.”
“We have anything to eat?” Lennie asked as he got back to his feet.
“I can order out,” Jack offered.
“Know any Italian delivery places?”
Jack frowned in thought. “There’s that one over on Fourth.”
“They’re pretty good,” Lennie called from the bedroom.
Jack dialed the number and left the television on, following Lennie to their room. As he placed the order, he watched Lennie change out of his suit, into an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt. The man did look good for his age, despite all the pizza he ate. He hung up the phone and leaned against the door frame. “One of these days, we should use the kitchen.”
“We have a kitchen? Oh yeah, that’s where the microwave and refrigerator are!”
“Smartass.”
“I don’t know if the stove even works.” Lennie tried to press past Jack and go back to the inviting, comfortable couch, but Jack caught him by the arm and leaned in for a slow, deep kiss. When they broke apart, Jack grinned at him.
“Still feel old?”
“Strangely enough, no. How long until dinner gets here?”
“Not long enough. After, though…” and Jack let the sentence trail off.
“You or me?”
“Your choice, old man.”
Lennie quirked an eyebrow at him and swatted at his ass.
Jack twisted away, laughing. “I’ve got my answer, then. Careful, you don’t want me to tell people you’re abusive.”
“Me? I’m a teddy bear. They’d think you were hitting me.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to serve a sentence that long.” When Lennie gave him a questioning look, Jack clarified. “Elder abuse.”
“You…” Lennie was interrupted by the buzzer.
“I’ll get that. See if there’s anything good on now?”
Lennie nodded and stretched out on the couch with the remote while Jack paid and flirted with the delivery guy. He flipped through aimlessly, paused briefly on Fox, decided the character was too much like himself, and finally settled on American Chopper.
Jack came back in and stood in front of the TV until Lennie grudgingly sat up, then handed him a box of pasta and a fork and sat on the other end of the couch. Lennie swung his feet back up on Jack’s lap, and Jack ignored that.
“What are we watching?”
“American Chopper.”
“That one with the motorcycles?”
“Yeah.”
“Doesn’t Fox have a decent show?”
“If you like bitter, sarcastic bastards, they do.”
Jack grinned at him. “As we both do, why not put that on?”
Lennie flipped back to the show, and they watched in a comfortable silence, occasionally commenting or making fun of one of the characters. When it was over, Lennie threw out both containers while Jack started the shower.
They washed each other gently and lovingly, and helped each other dry off. Neither bothered putting anything on before going to bed; they’d seen it all before, and anything they did bother with would just hit the floor in seconds.
After, when Lennie had rolled off Jack’s back and they were leaning into each other, they kissed, soft and sweet, stubble scraping together.
“Love you,” Lennie murmured, stroking Jack’s shock of silver hair.
“You too,” Jack replied, one hand resting on Lennie’s face.
As they drifted off, their thoughts followed the same line. They were old, yes, and their jobs were wearing, demanding, but when they were together, they had all the time in the world.
Author:
hawkeyecatFandom: Law & Order
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Jack/Lennie (Don’t look at me like that…)
Theme: H is for Horology, the science of measuring time.
Length: 691
Disclaimer: *sings "Only In My Dreams"* Dick Wolf won't hand them over, no matter how much I beg.
Author's Note: SAP! Pure, unadulterated SAP. I blame J.K… Thanks to
sarcasticsra for being such a wonderful beta. Lennie sank down on the couch with a groan.
“Long day?” his lover asked, absently flipping through the channels.
“When did I get so old?” Lennie asked rhetorically.
“A few years before me,” Jack replied, settling on a CBS drama.
“I hate this show,” Lennie said grumpily, kicking off his shoes.
“Why is that?”
“Who can afford that kind of testing? Not us—your job and mine would be a lot easier if we could. Besides, they’re not detectives. Why are they questioning suspects?”
Jack pushed gently at Lennie’s shoulder. “What would you rather watch?”
He glanced at the clock. “At nine on a Tuesday? Isn’t that hospital comedy on?”
“You mean the idiotic one where you keep hearing the main character’s thoughts? I don’t think so.”
“We have anything to eat?” Lennie asked as he got back to his feet.
“I can order out,” Jack offered.
“Know any Italian delivery places?”
Jack frowned in thought. “There’s that one over on Fourth.”
“They’re pretty good,” Lennie called from the bedroom.
Jack dialed the number and left the television on, following Lennie to their room. As he placed the order, he watched Lennie change out of his suit, into an old pair of sweats and a T-shirt. The man did look good for his age, despite all the pizza he ate. He hung up the phone and leaned against the door frame. “One of these days, we should use the kitchen.”
“We have a kitchen? Oh yeah, that’s where the microwave and refrigerator are!”
“Smartass.”
“I don’t know if the stove even works.” Lennie tried to press past Jack and go back to the inviting, comfortable couch, but Jack caught him by the arm and leaned in for a slow, deep kiss. When they broke apart, Jack grinned at him.
“Still feel old?”
“Strangely enough, no. How long until dinner gets here?”
“Not long enough. After, though…” and Jack let the sentence trail off.
“You or me?”
“Your choice, old man.”
Lennie quirked an eyebrow at him and swatted at his ass.
Jack twisted away, laughing. “I’ve got my answer, then. Careful, you don’t want me to tell people you’re abusive.”
“Me? I’m a teddy bear. They’d think you were hitting me.”
“Yeah, I don’t want to serve a sentence that long.” When Lennie gave him a questioning look, Jack clarified. “Elder abuse.”
“You…” Lennie was interrupted by the buzzer.
“I’ll get that. See if there’s anything good on now?”
Lennie nodded and stretched out on the couch with the remote while Jack paid and flirted with the delivery guy. He flipped through aimlessly, paused briefly on Fox, decided the character was too much like himself, and finally settled on American Chopper.
Jack came back in and stood in front of the TV until Lennie grudgingly sat up, then handed him a box of pasta and a fork and sat on the other end of the couch. Lennie swung his feet back up on Jack’s lap, and Jack ignored that.
“What are we watching?”
“American Chopper.”
“That one with the motorcycles?”
“Yeah.”
“Doesn’t Fox have a decent show?”
“If you like bitter, sarcastic bastards, they do.”
Jack grinned at him. “As we both do, why not put that on?”
Lennie flipped back to the show, and they watched in a comfortable silence, occasionally commenting or making fun of one of the characters. When it was over, Lennie threw out both containers while Jack started the shower.
They washed each other gently and lovingly, and helped each other dry off. Neither bothered putting anything on before going to bed; they’d seen it all before, and anything they did bother with would just hit the floor in seconds.
After, when Lennie had rolled off Jack’s back and they were leaning into each other, they kissed, soft and sweet, stubble scraping together.
“Love you,” Lennie murmured, stroking Jack’s shock of silver hair.
“You too,” Jack replied, one hand resting on Lennie’s face.
As they drifted off, their thoughts followed the same line. They were old, yes, and their jobs were wearing, demanding, but when they were together, they had all the time in the world.