Title: A Standing Arrangement
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Michael Cutter/Jack McCoy
Fandom: Law & Order
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own Michael Cutter or Jack McCoy, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.***
Michael went into Jack's office, sitting down on the couch and avoiding the other man's eyes. Jack too was silent, studying him, but not offering up any words.
The silence made Mike uncomfortable. There was something in Jack's stare that had never been there before, a look that made him want to blurt out questions along the lines of what the hell Jack meant by eyeballing him.
That look made him nervous; it made him perspire, made him tremble, made him feel like a raw schoolboy with his first crush. The fact that this man was his boss made it all the harder to keep his emotions in check.
He shouldn't feel this way about Jack. He shouldn't want this man. They had to keep their relationship based on nothing but work; that was the professional way to go about things. They couldn't let personal feelings get in the way.
But dammit, he wanted to get more personal. He wanted to get close to Jack, both in and out of the office. He didn't give a damn how unprofessional it would be.
For once, he wanted to follow his heart and not his head.
He darted a glance over at Jack; the other man was pouring out two drinks, taking his time about it. Mike studied his boss as he went about the movements of making them drinks, surreptitiously looking the othe rman up and down.
Jack might not be the kind of man that most people found attractive, but Michael hadn't been able to keep his eyes off him since they'd first met. Any time they were in the same room, his eyes would rest on Jack, drawn to him like the proverbial moth to a flame.
His looks were arresting, his charm -- when he wanted to use it -- undeniable. And Mike couldn't help but be drawn to his sometimes fiery attitude; he had the feeling that there were emotions inside Jack that the other man never dared to let out.
He hid those emotions behind a wall of stolidness, but Mike was sure that when he wasn't in the office, that wall could be broken down.
What would happen when that wall was broken down? The very thought of seeing Jack with that outard protective layer stripped away made his heart beat faster, his breath catch in his throat. The thought was almost unbearably exciting.
He wanted to be the person who could bring that wall crumbling down. He'd seen the way that Jack looked at him sometimes; he couldn't help but think that there was a part of the other man that wanted him too, even though Jack would never show it openly.
He'd probably never admit to it, either, Michael thought sourly. He'd have to be coaxed into admitting it -- and it wasn't something that Jack would acknowledge publicly. He was more sure of that than he was of his own orientation.
A sudden spasm of doubt gripped him. What if he was wrong?
No. He couldn't be wrong. There had been too many heated looks, too much subtext in the way that their hands met from time to time. Jack wanted him; he couldn't have read that wrong. But he'd been holding back, not voicing his desire aloud.
Until tonight. He was sure that look in Jack's eyes meant that the silence was going to be broken -- and he was ready for it.
Jack's fingers brushed his own as the other man handed him the drink; there was a softening in Jack's expression, a warmth in his eyes that had never been there before. It was unmistakable; Mike was sure that he hadn't gotten the meaning wrong.
"So, Mike." The other man's voice was conversational, his tone neutral. "I've been wanting to talk to you for a while. With no distractions and no one else around. Just the two of us. I've got a little .... proposition to put to you."
His muscles tightened in reaction to those words; Jack's voice always had that effect on him.
"And what would that be? I'm up for it, as long as I know the details." He was trying to relax, playing along with Jack's words and wondering what was hidden underneath them. The anticipation was killing him, but Mike knew well how to play a scene out.
Jack leaned forward, a smile on his lips as he took a sip from his drink. His eyes swept over Michael again, as though they were assessing him.
"I want to make a little bet with you, Mike. The next case we have is a tough one. If you win it -- then you don't have to honor this. But if you lose .... then you become my slave for three months. Only three months. That's it."
"Three months? And what kind of 'slave' are we talking about here?" Mike wanted to be sure he had this right; Jack could mean that he wanted Mike to do some of the office work that always seemed to pile up at an exponential rate.
"Oh, I think you know." Jack's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "It has nothing to do with the office, but I was under the impression that it's what you wanted."
He knew. He just wanted it put into words, and Jack was well aware of that.
"A sexual slave," he continued softly, his gaze resting on Mike's face. "You'll belong to me completely when we're not in this office. I have carte blanche to do anything I want to your body -- within reason, that is. I'm not a sadist."
Michael couldn't do anything but nod; his mouth seemed to have gone so dry that he couldn't speak. He took a gulp of his drink, hoping that it would loosen his tongue. This was definitely not the time to lose his voice.
"I do want that," he murmured, unable to speak any louder.
"Then we'll see how the case goes," Jack told him, leaning back in his chair and regarding the young man in front of him. "To be honest, I've wanted this for a while. I've been trying to figure out a way to get you in my bed. It's just taken a little time."
Michael's eyes widened, his gaze flying to Jack's face. He was almost sure that Jack was joking, that he couldn't possibly have meant what he said. But the little smile was gone; the other man was perfectly serious.
"I've wanted to be there for a long time." They were the only words he could dare to say, words that had been wanting to come out ever since his first day as ADA.
"Then I think we understand each other." Jack's tone was dry again, his voice cool. "And Mike .... you can leave or stay after the three months is up. I'm not going to hold you to more than that -- unless you want it. After that, it's up to you -- unless you lose another case."
"Then it's another three months, right?" Mike held his breath when he asked the question; he wasn't sure that was what Jack intended, and he might be biting off more than he could chew, but he had to set the terms here and now.
"Of course." Jack smiled at him over the rim of his glass. "It's a standing arrangement."
"I can live with that," Michael told him, tossing back his drink and standing up. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jack." He picked up his coat and his briefcase, taking a few steps before he turned back to his boss with a frown. "What if I win the case?"
"Actually," Jack said, leaning back in his chair with another smile, "I'm hoping you'll lose."***