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Kim jerks awake, sucking in a sharp breath and moving as if to jump right up in his seat.
"Sweet dreams?" Harry asks from the driver's seat of the motor carriage. His eyes are apologetic and it's clear that he's just barely holding himself back from apologizing for waking Kim up. Even though he needed to do it, it can be pretty hard to not feel bad waking up someone when they react as if you've stabbed them every time.
Kim rubs a gloved hand over his face. "Has it been four hours already?"
"Five, actually." Harry grunts as he moves to the front seat clumsily, giving Kim room to take his spot. "You looked like you needed the sleep."
He frowns to himself. Harry isn't wrong necessarily about him needing a little more sleep, they've been at this stakeout for days now and they're both getting restless and homesick. If the stakeout goes through the night, then tomorrow morning they are going to switch off with a new team since keeping them working for this long of a stretch might be considered 'cruel and inhumane working practices'. Kim is already looking forward to being back in his place, alone, and not being stuck in this car any longer. He tries to not feel bad about thinking that about Harry since it's clear he is also craving some much needed privacy.
As much as Kim needed that extra hour of sleep, Harry needs it more. He doesn't have the ability to fall asleep anywhere like Kim does, and every single shift so far has consisted of him watching Harry attempt to sleep in fits in the back seat. It's always resulted in him briefly falling asleep, eventually, but waking up after just a couple of hours and being unable to go back to sleep. His eye bags have become especially pronounced in just a few days they've been doing this.
Harry interrupts his concerned thoughts for his health. "You don't gotta feel bad for wanting to go home already, we're getting too old for this shit."
Kim takes note of the ache in his back from sleeping on the uncomfortable seats, the pain making itself known in his neck whenever he tries to turn his head, and the unsteadiness of his legs as he climbs from the back to the driver's seat. "You're right about that, detective."
Surprisingly, Harry doesn't immediately take Kim's old spot in the back and try to get some well-needed rest. Instead he makes himself comfortable in the front seat, seemingly intending to stay there for a while.
They're parked across the street from the building they're supposed to be watching - a several story tall hotel in a part of town that would normally be too expensive for Kim to even breath in. On the side of the hotel, within view of each other but unable to see inside, both of the RCM vehicles have tinted windshields, is their backup for the stakeout. Their target, a high ranking member gang member with a notorious partying habit, is currently residing in the pent house. At least according to the tip that they received. Kim's inclined to believe it since every night, starting around midnight, there has been an intense party visible through the windows. Flashing lights, topless women, the whole nine yards.
At some point this guy will have to leave, Kim reasons with himself, sounding desperate even in his mind.
"He's gotta come out at some point." Harry mirrors uncannily.
If you can read my mind then throw your shoe out the window. He knows the thought is illogical. It doesn't matter how many times he stamps down it down and repeats 'Harry can't read minds, he is just like that' to himself, it always sneak up on him.
He doesn't say that (and, he also notes, Harry doesn't throw his shoe out of the window) instead he says "Don't you think you should try and get some sleep?"
Harry stretches, several bones popping from the movement. His shirt rides up so a sliver of hairy belly gets exposed. "Nah, I mean I'm tired, but I know I won't be able to sleep. Unless you mind?"
All the windows are cracked to allow some air flow but that doesn't help much to combat the smell of their bodies as they stew in the car. Kim is mostly blind to his own smell, but Harry's fills the small space - sweaty and a little stale, he doesn't stink but he probably feels a need for a shower. Or Kim would, but Harry has always been more blind to his personal hygiene then most people. It's intoxicating.
"I don't mind." And his brain feels a bit like he's drunk - some combination of exhaustion, being trapped in a small space for so long, and the sensation of being locked up there with Harry made him lose his tightly wound sense of professionalism. "You should at least try to sleep, if you can."
When he is done stretching he relaxes with his arms spread out, one hanging off of the headrest and almost reaching into the backseat, taking up space unapologetically. Kim barely makes sure his eyes don't linger suspiciously. "I know, I know. I'm too tense, I would just be laying there until my shift is up. Going stir crazy or something."
"You need to relax." A statement that sounds hypocritical even to his own ears.
"Can't do that here." He shrugs, 'what are ya gonna do?'
"What do you usually do when you can't sleep?" There's many different routines Kim has when sleep evades him. Going over case notes until the words bleed together, count sheep, turn on some white noise in the form of TV static set to low, triple check all the doors and windows are still lock, and of course -
"There's one way that's usually a surefire way to knock me out." Harry starts, then delivers an over the top, smarmy grin. "Tuggin' on the ol' disco stick, if you catch my drift."
"Right."
"Polishing the family jewels."
"Mmhmm."
"Choking the chicken." and when Kim said nothing, he continued. "Shaking hands with the champion."
"I was unaware that it had won an award."
"Can't do that here." He finishes.
Kim looks out the window. Still no activity from the window they're supposed to be watching. The car with the other team can't see them inside the car, he's certain of it. Around them it's devoid of all people, no prying eyes for miles.
"I don't see why not." Tone still casual.
This isn't wise. This conversation. What he's urging Harry to do. But it's true that Harry needs sleep - really, isn't he looking out for a fellow officer? More importantly, isn't he making sure that his partner is in good shape in case they need to spring into action? More than anything he's just making sure his ass is covered in an emergency. It's strictly professional.
There's a beat that lasts just long enough for Kim's outer composure to continue holding strong, but internally he's thinking of ways to back out of this with at least a little bit of dignity in tact.
"We're talking about jerking off, right?" Harry blurts out. "Like, just so we're on the same page. You're telling me to jerk off?"
"I'm not telling you anything." Kim says. "I'm merely pointing out that you need to get some sleep eventually. You said it yourself that that's the easiest way to get there."
For a moment they just look at each other. The tension in the car is a heavy weight pressing down on them, stuffy like humidity. It's in the air, coating their throats and lungs so it's impossible to ignore. Then, after an eternity, Harry moves so his arm is no longer hanging off the headrest. Cautiously, almost like he's sneaking and doesn't want to get caught, he palms himself through his too tight disco pants.
At some point, Kim had relaxed in a way that he was turned towards Harry but leaning his head in his hand, elbow perched on the arm rest. He doesn't move his body when Harry does that, but there was no way that his eyes weren't going to track Harry's big hand coming to touch himself. So he doesn't hide that at all, eyes flicking away only to confirm that Harry is watching him as well.
They stay like that for a few minutes. It takes some time, less than what Kim was privately expecting considering Harry's age, but eventually his face turns pink and embarrassed looking and Kim can tell that he's fully hard even through his pants. Not that it would stay a mystery for very long considering his pants rarely leave anything to the imagination, but Kim watches it swell and fill out the space in real time.
"You should - " The bravado required of him to start has left him, suddenly, and his pale green eyes look so flustered and shy now. His face is intensely flushed now, but his hand doesn't stop. "You should. Um. Tell me what to do."
"I feel like I often tell you what to do and I get ignored. Are you going to be a good boy and actually listen, today?" Kim tries to keep his casual tone and bored posture. It's not that easy. Even though he's been able to sleep, he and Harry are in the same boat. Tense, bored, desperate for some relief in the moment. It doesn't help that the only real entertainment that either of them have been getting is glimpses at the drug-fueled party that takes brief pauses during the day only to return every night. It can drive any man to do something wild.
Harry whimpers and he nods enthusiastically. "I'll listen! I'll do whatever you tell me - I'll be - " He swallows. Kim watches him grip himself tightly, still in the confines of the disco pants. He swears he saw it twitch. "I'll be good. Ah - A good boy. I'll be that."
The interior of the car was stuffy before and now it starts to feel completely oppressive even with the window cracked like it is. Which reminds him -
"We're still in public, officer." He sounds patronizing, and for a moment he's worried that he went too far. Especially when Harry flinches, as if his words hurt just like taking a ruler to the knuckles, but his eyes shine in an unmistakable way. Practically screaming at him to keep going. "You need to try and be quiet. You wouldn't want anyone to think this is what the RCM is up to these days, do you?"
"No sir."
"Good." He gives Harry a small, approving smile, which he practically melts at. "Take your pants off."
His hands are shaking slightly as he frantically tries to unbutton and pull off his pants as fast as possible. Kim doesn't move a muscle, instead continues to watch him without letting his disinterested attitude sway. It becomes especially hard to appear unaffected when he finally sees Harry's cock.
It matches the rest of him: flushed red at the tip, foreskin already pulled back, a little short but it more than makes up for that with its girth, surrounded by a forest of untamed curls.
It's too much. He sucks in an audible gasp at the sight and he can feel his ears get impossibly warm. Harry doesn't need his ungodly detective skills to see Kim barely holding himself back from pouncing, his eyes haven't moved from Kim's face ever since they started this, and he's absorbing the reaction like a sponge.
When he finally grasps his bare cock he sighs in relief, already giving himself fast, indulgent strokes.
"Stop." Kim says.
Harry freezes.
Kim leans over to reach the glove compartment. He very deliberately gets as close as he can to Harry without touching, difficult not only because it required him to twist away but also being so close to him, his heat and his musk and the fact that his cock is out and a part of him wants nothing more than to just stick it in his mouth, but he succeeds.
Quickly he grabs a small thing of hand lotion and tosses it to Harry. "Continue."
He wastes no time getting back to it. "Kim!" He attempts to say it quietly, but it mostly just adds to the husky, smoky quality his voice always has. "Aren't you going to touch yourself?"
He hums. "I might." He's hard enough that it hurts but he doesn't make a move to touch himself yet. He knows if he waits just a little longer it'll feel even better, he has Harry half naked in front of him and it's so nice to savor it. "If you do a good enough job."
He chokes off a groan.
"I won't if you continue to be so loud." He threatens half-heartily. "What would everyone think? If we got caught like this by someone randomly walking past. A high-ranking RCM officer pleasuring himself in a public parking lot?"
His whole body shudders at that, the tip of his dick is so wet Kim assumes he must be close. For the first time since they started this, Harry stops looking directly at Kim and instead he shuts his eyes tightly, so tight he starts tearing up.
"I'd go to bat for you, of course. Wouldn't want my reputation dragged through the mud because of you."
Harry, still with his eyes closed tightly, clenches his mouth equally tight and cums as quietly as he possibly can. The muffled groan is deep and guttural. Thankfully there is still no one around to catch them. He dribbles over his hairy knuckles, shooting a lot of it onto his stomach, and Kim continues to just watch him as he milks himself dry, progressively slowing down.
"Kim," his eyes blink open sleepily, dazed and wet. "Did I - Please, can I - ?" He reaches a hand out - the same one covered in his cum - but doesn't touch him quite yet.
"Sure, I think you've been good enough." He says and finally, finally, shucks off his own pants and boxers just enough to relieve himself. He moves to take a glove off and has exposed his palm before Harry speaks again.
"Can I - ?" His hand stays hovering in the same spot, so close but not touching, and his eyes dart between Kim's face and cock rapidly. Kim's mind, completely fogged over with lust, takes a few seconds to understand what Harry is asking.
He's tempted to tell Harry to use his words to ask for what he wants, but he feels like he could cum from the lightest touch and is getting a little tired of waiting. "Go ahead."
When Harry finally grips his cock, using his own cum as lube, the pleasure is so immediate and intense that Kim can only lean his head back with a groan. With his eyes closed the feeling is even more intense, and it isn't long before he's finishing all over -
Well, he anticipated finishing over himself, but when he opens his eyes again he sees that Harry had, without his noticing, leaned in close enough that Kim's cum now paints his face and mustache. Maybe he was planning on sucking his cock but neither of them noticed just how much Kim got worked up over watching him. He sighs like it's the best gift he's even been given.
It isn't long before Harry, dressed up again and having used the leftover takeout napkins that were also in the glove compartment to clean himself up, is finally sleeping soundly in the backseat. Kim yawns, cracks his knuckles, and prepares for a long night of watching more of the same.
Blessed Dei, he misses his bed.