Work Text:
The fireworks expand and streak down the sky above them, the air shuddering with booms and sizzles that could set any combat veteran on edge. Kaz, however, only seems bothered by the fact that he is not any nearer to the more lively parties beneath them. Uncouthly, he throws back his fifth glass of champagne as if it chafes like bourbon.
“Welcome to 1981, Miller.”
“Another year stuck working with you?”
“Cheers.” Ocelot clinks his untouched glass to Kaz’s empty one. Kaz winces.
“C’mere,” he mumbles, yanking Ocelot rudely by the small of his back. His fingers are always more careless when he is drunk.
“Feeling lonely tonight, are we?”
“Shut up. Just let me pretend you’re someone else for a minute.”
Kaz holds Ocelot’s skull captive as he kisses him beneath the faint lights flickering in the distance. His mouth is tepid, dispassionate. Ocelot endures it, his mind still on his work, but he lets it stray toward the thin, vulnerable skin peeking between Kaz’s evening gloves and the cuffs of his tuxedo where his watch usually covers. As Kaz pulls away, Ocelot blinks up at him through full lashes.
“Is it working?” he asks sarcastically.
Kaz’s lip curls weakly. He sways ever so slightly on his feet. “No.”
Ocelot runs his thumbs down the inside of Kaz’s tuxedo lapels, smoothing them. Admittedly, he looks nearly as handsome as John does in one. Nearly.
“Who do you want me to be, then? I’m good at pretend.”
Kaz inhales heavily, rolling his eyes. The bags beneath them are puffy from late nights under poor lamplight.
“You could pretend to be someone who likes me for a change.”
Ocelot blinks in surprise. He grips the lapels, steering Kaz away from the window and into a nearby chair. He lowers himself slowly into Kaz’s lap, leaning in close until Kaz goes a bit cross-eyed with interest.
“That’s exactly the problem, Miller,” Ocelot says in a low, dangerous voice. “I do like you.”
“Coulda fooled me,” Kaz complains.
“I think,” Ocelot whispers, curling a finger under his chin, “the thing is that you don’t want me to. And you’d be wise not to.”
Kaz’s eyes flicker warily, but inevitably land at his mouth, still unfulfilled.
“You gonna kiss me, or what?” Kaz pouts, his words soaked with champagne.
Ocelot obliges, taking his time, his tongue dissolving the sugar on Kaz’s lips. Kaz inhales through his nose when a hand squeezes the softness at his waist.
When Ocelot pulls away, Kaz’s lips are loose and pink.
“God,” Kaz wrinkles his nose. “You’ve never been good at that.”
Ocelot raises his eyebrows. He has always made it a professional habit to be—seduction is as much a tool as any in his arsenal for extracting information. And Kaz has always seemed like a man who was far from choosey. The fireworks sizzle and crackle amid their cannon fire across the bay.
“Alright, Commander, you’d better show me what I’m missing.”
Kaz’s pupils darken, swallowing the hanging lights around them. He instantly shifts the way he carries himself, a dormant part of him suddenly activated. Sliding one hand up Ocelot’s back, he caresses Ocelot’s jaw, fingers gathering at his chin and pulling it toward his own. Kaz’s lips part, but hesitate at his mouth, as if drinking him in before taking the plunge.
It almost makes Ocelot feel that the air is being stolen from his throat.
The rest of the kiss steals something from him, too. Kaz is drawing nectar from his mouth, sucking it out of his lips and plucking delicious sounds from them, leaving Ocelot jealous for what he apparently tastes. He dips his tongue into Kaz’s mouth and tries to steal some back. Kaz’s lips open readily, but at the cost of his warm palm sinking to the curve of Ocelot’s ass, sliding silk on silk as he presses their hips flush through their slacks.
“Commander,” Ocelot murmurs. “If I’d have known this was all you wanted me here for… I’d have dragged you away from that party sooner.”
“I thought you were supposed to be good at reading people,” Kaz murmurs, sucking harshly at his neck.
Ocelot tugs Kaz’s bowtie loose and unthreads it slowly. “And who do you want me to be this time, Miller?”
Kaz grasps Ocelot’s thighs with surprising strength and carries him to the bed, tossing him down and beginning to unbutton his own shirt. Even this motion looks suave and practiced, though Ocelot can appreciate the art of a well-rehearsed performance. Blossoms of red and white light bloom across the night sky through the window behind him. Kaz leans down over Ocelot and whispers heavily in his ear.
“Just be someone who is ready to take me.”