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The thing was, when it came to car rides, it was either going to be a ride where they talked about their feelings, bonded a bit, make some jokes and teased each other, or it was going to be a ride in total awkward silence. This car ride was readily taking shape to be one of the latter. They had just finished running down a hacker living on the East Side, a relatively easy mission. Nobody was shot, hurt, or strapped to any kind of explosives, and Dorian was feeling good. John, however, was saying nothing.
“What’s going on, man?” Dorian put on a smile. “It was a good mission, and Maldonado said she had another. It’s gonna be an alright day!”
“Yep,” John replied curtly.
“Really? That’s all you have to say?” Dorian laughed, trying to ease the tension out of the situation.
“Yep.”
“Come on now, can you say something else?
“Yep.”
“Oh, clever, yeah, aren’t you the smart one?” Dorian huffed. The two sat in not-so comfortable silence for a while, John not taking his eyes off of the road. After a couple of minutes, Dorian tried again. “Are you really not going to tell me what’s going on?
“Dorian, look,” John started. “It’s nothing. Really, I mean it. Sometimes, you know, you just get into sort of a crappy mood. I’m not mad at you or Maldonado or anyone, okay?”
“Just a mood?”
“Exactly.”
“Fair enough,” Dorian mused. John chose not to reply, smiling instead silently. They were almost to the station. “John?” Dorian interrupted again.
“Yeah?” John sighed.
“I think I love you.”
John slammed on the breaks.
Fine. Maybe, it wasn’t the best of ideas. Maybe there was another way to go about this whole thing. In his head, the scenario had played out much smoother. John would be at first repulsed about a synthetic, (I don’t like that term, John,) being in love with him, then he would be overcome with the sudden realization that he loved Dorian back, then they would make out in the back of the police cruiser, confessing their undying love between breathless kisses.
In reality, John slammed on the breaks, opened the car door and made a dead sprint to the station. They were approximately a mile and a half away when he first leaped out, but that didn’t stop him. He left the car running, and a very confused, and a somewhat saddened Dorian in the passenger seat. That was not how it was supposed to go.
Dorian got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s seat. Any other time, he would have been ecstatic to finally get permission to drive. But this just felt wrong somehow. Coupled with the fact that he didn’t think this actually qualified as permission left Dorian’s first driving experience hollow.
He pulled into the station, parking perfectly, unlike his partner. As he walked into the briefing room, he saw John was already there. His ears were bright red, he was holding a coffee cup like his life depended on it, and he was very purposely not making eye contact.
If you had asked him what Maldonado had said during that brief, Dorian wouldn’t be able to tell you at all. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, one he had never felt before. John had always told Dorian to be honest.
This was honesty wasn’t it?
Then why did John react the way he did? Why was he wishing that he could take back those words?
“Dorian? Where are you going?” Valarie cut through his thoughts with a laugh.
“Hm?”
“John is already out in the car. He’s waiting for you.”
“Something tells me he really isn’t.” Dorian mumbled, his eyes downcast.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing, thank you Detective.” Dorian smiled sadly as he turned and made his way to the car. He had a feeling that this car ride was going to be the most awkward one he had ever been in.
He wasn’t wrong.
Nothing was being said. John made no movement of acknowledgement when Dorian got in, nor had he said anything to him. The music wasn’t on, and the tension was practically permeating through the car. It was terrible. Briefly, Dorian wondered if Maldonado would let him transfer. Maybe John would make a complaint, and Dorian would be put to sleep again. He let his head fall against the car window. Both of those options were inconceivable. Maybe if he tried to play it off as a joke, he could fix this. Laugh and say something along the lines of ‘I got you good, man!’. He took a deep breath, readying himself to break out in what he hoped was convincing laughter.
“Sorry.”
Dorian closed his mouth.
“What did you say?” he asked, almost not believing his ears.
“That was no way to react to what you told me. I’m sorry.” John said softly, not taking his eyes from the road. Dorian’s eyes got impossibly huge.
“It’s, I guess,” Dorian tried. “Okay.”
John nodded once, solemnly. They kept driving in silence, but at least some of the tension was gone. All of a sudden, John whipped his car into a parking lot, and cut off the engine in one smooth motion. “No man, we don’t have to talk about it,” Dorian sighed. “It’s fine; we can just pretend that it never -”
He was cut off by John taking hold of his coat and pulling him into a deep, searing kiss. John tasted like bourbon, exhaust fumes, and quite impossibly, warmth. He was so busy cataloging everything, he didn’t realize he wasn’t kissing back.
John pulled back, his face flushed but his eyes sad.
“Sorry, I thought you-?”
Dorian answered him by bringing their mouths together once again, teeth and noses bumping. John kept hold of Dorian’s jacket and practically dragged him into the backseat, throwing him down and landing himself on top.
Dorian also wouldn’t be able to tell you how long they kissed for, as his mind seemed to suddenly stop working when John wrapped a hand around his neck, softly stroking. They were content to stay wrapped up in each other’s arms, kissing like teenagers.
“I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen,” John smiled when he broke for air. “Defiantly not.” Dorian lifted his head and kissed the underside of John’s neck.
“This is almost exactly how I imagined it going,” he laughed.
“Me breaking out of the car and running? Way to have high hopes.”
“No, not that part. This.”
“Where the hell are you two?” Detective Paul’s voice cut through on the radio.
“Traffic!” John yelled back, thinking on his feet. “Be there in ten!” He looked down at Dorian and kissed him one last time, letting his lips run down his jaw line.
After much tripping and accidently elbowing each other in the face, they managed to get back to their respective seats, and John started the car again. They pulled out of the parking lot and were back on their way again. Dorian felt considerably better than when they started.
They pulled into the crime-scene, purposely not looking at Detective Paul as they parked. Dorian was about to get out of the car when he felt John grab his hand.
“What?”
John took a deep breath.
“I love you, too,” he said shakily.
Dorian smiled.
“Is it my turn to start running?”
“Shut up.”