Being a private eye is not as glamorous as people think. Not that there’s a lot of pizzazz associated with it usually. But people tend not to be aware of just how much time you spend in dusty and dirty places, digging through that dirt to find the clues you need to solve a case. 

Luckily Juno’s latest dive into a dumpster had been fruitful. And even more luckily it had been several hours ago, so the smell had mostly worn off, and what was left had gotten covered up with dust and sand and sweat and the client’s perfume that clashed terribly with everything else.

Juno’s coat was still in sore need of a wash. As was the detective.

 

Another thing people don’t consider is the downtime. 

How the time between cases can drag on for weeks without anything to do.

How sometimes you barely get back to start closing the office when another new face pops in.

It wasn’t a new face, technically.

He’d done a valiant job of changing up his contouring to throw people off at first glance, but it was still undeniably him.

 

Juno hadn’t seen Nureyev in a while.

There had been the whole ordeal with the mask of course.

A few weeks later Nureyev had been back, with a case Juno couldn’t turn down if he wanted to.

And since then Nureyev had been popping back in every few weeks with information on some new, potentially world ending threat.

Juno had never been able to refuse even once.

 

They hadn’t kissed again in the time they were working together.

They hadn’t even discussed the first kiss.

Nureyev had never said anything, and Juno was certainly not gonna bring it up. He barely knew what he wanted out of this relationship. Wasn’t sure he wanted anything at all.

They hadn’t talked about it, but Juno had thought about it a lot.

It was always there at the back of his mind, and it usually came to the forefront on the nights when Nureyev was around, right when Juno was trying to fall asleep.

 

And it especially came to mind right now, with Nureyev casually leaning against Juno’s desk, dressed even more impeccably than usually.

The suit made his chest look broader than usual.

The makeup made him look radiant.

The fit of his black pants made it seem like his legs went on forever.

And the corset made it very hard for Juno to resist running his hands over Nureyev’s waist.

Juno had to step a lot closer to smell the familiar cologne over the smell of his own sweat.

Standing next to Nureyev made Juno all too acutely aware of his own messy hair, the stubble threatening to overtake his face, and every single stain on his coat.

“Another case then? Or are you taking me out to dinner?” He asked, making a show of sweeping his eyes over Nureyev’s clothes.

Nureyev shot him a rueful smile, and Juno was certain that his heart would give out any second now. 

“If only it were so... It is a case. And an urgent one at that. With a time limit.” Nureyev kicked off of the desk and made for the door. “I’ll explain in the car.”

---

It had indeed been urgent, but luckily that meant it was resolved in one evening.

By the end of it Nureyev’s clothes, hair, and makeup were still somehow flawless.

It was unfair, really. That kiss was still on Juno’s mind, and having Nureyev next to him like… well, like this... hot as always and dressed to the nines, Juno was very much tempted to try initiating another one.

But…

Juno was now covered in a fine layer of Martian sand on top of everything else, his hair had become an entire mess, and he couldn’t smell anything other than sweat and dirt.

And while Juno was usually of the mind that cases took precedence and that showers weren’t a priority, he was starting to feel self-conscious from Nureyev’s gaze that he felt on him constantly but never actually saw, with Nureyev politely averting his eyes just in time whenever Juno looked back.

---

Nureyev was aware that he had caught Juno right on the tail end of a three-day case.

He hadn’t given the detective a moment to clean up, and he was paying dearly for it now.

Juno was sporting slightly more than a five o’clock shadow that Nureyev was dying to feel against his skin. His hair was wind-swept, and there were smudges of dirt and blood littered on Juno’s clothes and skin.

Nureyev couldn’t tear his gaze away from him for more than a few moments at a time, and he was sure that the keen eyed detective had picked up on it by now, but he couldn’t stop himself either.

But he found Juno openly looking at one part of him or another as well occasionally, so at least it seemed to be a mutual feeling. 

The problem of looking at Juno too much got resolved when they made it back to the car and Nureyev had to keep his eyes on the road.

But it didn’t make his previous thoughts go away, and it brought another issue or two into the equation.

Juno was riding shotgun, his legs comfortably spread, and every time Nureyev went to change gears, his hand brushed along the detectives thigh, which really should have affected Juno more than Nureyev, but oh well, here they were.

And Juno smelled like sweat and earth, and it made Nureyev all the more aware of Juno’s body in such close proximity.

It took every ounce of willpower in Nureyev not to pull the car over and ravish the detective, tangling his fingers in messy locks, breathing the lady in more deeply, before tasting him again, feeling the stubble scratch against his skin, only on his face at first, but maybe later he’d be amenable to-

Dammit, Nureyev, focus!

---

They’d made it a habit to go back to Juno’s apartment and have a drink after a successful job.

Juno wanted nothing more than to finally take a shower and get into a fresh set of clothes - appreciating Nureyev’s looks in a more proactive manner was a close second - but he couldn’t find it in himself to ask Nureyev to leave.

Juno should have gone to pick up the glasses and a bottle of liquor.

They should have sat down on opposite ends of the sofa, an appropriate distance from each other, and made some easy small talk and lighthearted jokes.

Nureyev should have been on his way soon after.

And that should have been that for the next few weeks.

 

Juno didn’t go fetch the drinks. Instead he was still busy despairing over Nureyev’s perfect hair and clothes and face, and wondering since when Nureyev thought less of him for the traces his work left on him.

They didn’t sit down and talk. Instead they unconsciously shifted closer, silently taking each other in.

Nureyev didn’t leave. Instead he took the last step into Juno’s personal space, reaching out to tilt Juno’s head up with one hand.

 

Nureyev hesitated for a moment, searching Juno’s face, which must have screamed a hopeful yes, with only a slight undercurrent of confusion.

He tangled his fingers in Juno’s messy locks, stopping just short of closing the distance, to take a deep breath, before pressing his lips to Juno’s.

Juno had seen it coming a mile away, but he was still taken off guard. And Nureyev used Juno’s surprised gasp as an opportunity to deepen the kiss.

Juno let himself enjoy the kiss and the hand sliding under his coat and along his back for a moment.

But… That…

When Nureyev had been looking at him the entire evening, was that...

By all accounts, it didn’t make sense.

Juno pulled away from the kiss, to voice his confusion.

“Are you sure you want to be kissing me right now? When I’m such a mess?”

“Juno!” The name came out in a disbelieving laugh, the corners of Nureyev’s mouth curled up. Then his expression changed, like he was looking at something precious. His eyes ran over Juno’s face. “Juno...” It came out as a dreamy sigh this time, before Nureyev leaned back in. “You’re perfect like this.”