Chapter Text
Tom arrived to work at 8:30. An hour late, sure, but nothing catastrophic. He already had the excuse lined up; alarm clock ran out of battery. Semir usually had something to say about it, acted like showing up late was a threat to national security, hell, he was losing his mind just about every little mistake Tom ever made.
It was annoying, Tom hoped when Semir got married to Andre, he’d have other things to focus on. Or at least someone else to pester. Then again, Andre was even more of a maniac than his spouse. Tom's never met someone so overly disciplined that they'd go running at three in the morning in a blizzard. Semir was unbearable, but this was borderline psychotic and Tom didn't envy him that marriage one bit.
He shook off the snow as he stepped inside, rubbed one hand down the front of his coat. The lobby was significantly warmer. A few officers were already walking around, mostly chatting rather than working, it was never too busy early in the morning unless there was an active emergency going on and fortunately that hasn't happened yet. He greeted the guy at reception, said a couple of hellos to the colleagues hanging out in the hallway in front of the bullpen.
Then he walked into the bullpen and saw a familiar face sitting at a table at a kitchen nook to the left side.
Sitting beside Andrea was Andre. A plate in front of him. Coffee. Some kind of pastry. They were eating breakfast together, talking, well, it was mostly Andrea talking and Andre nodding along.
Tom slowed just enough not to be obvious. “Morning.”
Andre glanced up. “Morning.”
Andrea smiled at him. “Morning, Tom.”
He kept walking, took three more steps before he paused.
Wait a second.
Andre always ate breakfast with Semir, what was he doing with Andrea suddenly? He wondered and looked over his shoulder at the duo just carrying on their breakfast, Semir nowhere in sight.
He turned to where his office with Semir was and saw him sitting there at his desk, so Tom made his way to the office, wondering what that was about.
Tom pushed open the office door. Semir sat at his desk with a small paper bag open beside him, picking apart a croissant that he wasn't really eating while staring at a computer screen. He looked up when Tom came in.
“You’re late.”
No good morning, no how was your drive, it's really snowed in huh. Yeah, no, there could be a volcano going off, set his car on fire and Semir would still ask him why wasn't he at work on time.
Tom rolled his eyes. “The road was slippery, thanks for asking.” He closed the door behind him and took off his coat, hanging it on a coat rack in the corner of the office. It was significantly warmer in their office as Semir hated the cold and cranked up the heater to the max.
“What happened in that hour I wasn’t here?" Tom asked before Semir could throw any more judgement on him."Why’s Andre eating breakfast with Andrea?”
At the mention of his spouse and the secretary, Semir threw him a side look but quickly shifted his attention back to the screen. “How should I know? Guess they had things to talk about.”
Tom raised an eyebrow.
Alright, someone's in a bad mood.
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Why should it bother me?” Semir replied without looking this time, he tapped something on the keyboard, but seeing as he was on the home screen, he was just trying to look busy.
Tom chuckled. “When doesn't it bother you? You always give him a hard time when he looks at her for a second too long.”
Semir dragged his finger over the keyboard once more and then leaned on his arm instead.
“Well, it doesn’t bother me now.”
Tom just stared at him for a second, expecting him to continue, but when he didn't, Tom asked the obvious. “Did you two have an argument?”
This time Semir fully looked at him. “No?” He said, in the most unconvicing tone Tom's had ever heard.
Tom snorted."Alright." He muttered and sat down at his desk, crossing his arms and giving his partner an entertained smile.
Semir went back to looking busy.
It lasted him about a minute or two, Tom just booted up his own computer when Semit smacked his hand on the table and spoke out in an annoyed voice. “Yeah okay, we had an argument. So what. You’re making a deal out of it.”
Tom raised an eyebrow."I only asked, don't bite my head off." He waited for a second, watching Semir's irritated expression as he continued to abuse his croissant."So, what was it about?"
Semir didn’t answer right away. He ripped a corner off the croissant, stared at it for a second, then shoved it in his mouth like it personally offended him.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
Tom leaned back in his chair, rested one foot on the edge of the desk. “So something important, then.”
Semir let out a breath through his nose.
Okay, he's very frustrated, not a great start of a shift.
“We’ve been talking about getting a car,” he said eventually. “Something normal. Something that doesn’t scream look at me, I’m compensating for something. I said maybe a Passat. Maybe a Skoda.”
Tom nodded along slowly. “Okay…”
Semir dropped his hands flat against the desk. “He went and bought a car yesterday. Without telling me!”
Tom leaned back in his chair. “What kind of car?”
“A freaking SUV,” Semir shoved the mutilated croissant away. “A Volkswagen Touareg '06, I'm surprised he didn't get a monster truck while he was at it.”
Tom clicked his tongue thoughtfully. “That is kinda a big car, but I mean if you are planning on having a family...”
“We’re not having a family anytime soon,” Semir snapped. “And even if we were, we don’t need a car that size for a maybe, someday. It’s useless. It’s going to burn through fuel, it’s going to be a nightmare to park, it’s—”
“Okay, okay, calm down,” Tom held up a hand. “How’d he even pay for it without you noticing? That kind of a car isn't cheap.”
“He had money set aside,” Semir muttered. “We don't have a shared bank account, I didn't want it because I don't trust him with money and obviously I was right.”
Tom shrugged eventually. “Then get your own car. Let him upkeep the SUV if he wanted it that bad.”
Semir turned toward him, clearly unimpressed. “So we’re going to have two cars now?”
"I mean, this is Andre we're talking about," Tom chuckled,"He's not gonna return it just because you don't like it. Obviously he has no intention of doing that if you're that pissed off about it."
Semir scoffed. “I told him to return it. He told me he won't, that he wants it.”
Tom stared at him.
“I said this wasn’t up for debate,” Semir continued, already getting worked up again. “Then we argued about it for an hour and now he’s not speaking to me.” He gestured vaguely toward the bullpen. “Won’t even look at me. I’m the one who’s justified in being pissed off here.”
Tom leaned back in his chair, watching him spiral. “Maybe he really wanted that car. Maybe he was hoping you’d be supportive.”
“I don’t freaking care if he wanted that car,” Semir snapped. “I wanted a Spitfire two years ago and he told me it was a total waste of money. And then he pulls this crap?”
Tom raised both eyebrows.
Semir shook his head, grabbed his coffee, took a sip, then set it down harder than needed. “He knew damn well that I didn't want a big car.”
Tom shrugged. “So what now? Both of you are sulking? One of you’s gonna have to cave in. You share the same bed, the silent treatment isn’t gonna work longterm.”
“He can sleep in that stupid car if he wanted it so bad,” Semir muttered.
Tom rubbed a hand down his face and groaned. Good lord. This is gonna be a nightmare if they don't make up.
The rest of the day passed with one consistent, glaring detail: there was no interaction whatsoever between Andre and Semir.
Not a word.
At first he thought maybe they’d just agreed to cool off for a while, but that theory fell apart when he realized how surgical Andre’s avoidance was. The man didn’t even look in their direction. Not once.
It was weird.
Tom was used to them being in each other’s space constantly. Andre practically owned Semir's personal space most of the days.
Now Andre had parked himself on the far end of the station. He spent most of the day working beside Stefan, of all people, you know it's bad when Stefan makes for a good company.
There were couple of rare moments when Tom caught him stealing glances in their direction.
Andre just checked once, like he was gauging something, then turned back to his paperwork.
Semir never noticed. Or acted like he didn’t, it'd be the same either way.
By noon, Semir's anger mostly dissolved and he just acted like he didn't care anymore. He snapped at Tom twice, but that was pretty mild compared to when he's in a really bad mood.
Tom didn't argue back, it really wasn't worth the drama, he just shot a look in Andre's direction, thinking hopefully loud enough to be heard, Just return the freaking car. For all our sakes, do it before he makes me go insane.
At the end of the day, it looked hopeless.
Tom watched them leave separately. Semir heading out first, Andre leaving later, as if to make sure they wouldn’t cross paths in the lot.
By the time the office emptied out, Tom leaned against his desk, rubbed the back of his neck, and sighed.
“I should have gone on sick leave,” he muttered to himself.
--
The next day, Tom arrived early, he didn't want to deal with Semir if he was in such a foul mood after yesterday.
The snow had finally stopped falling, traffic wasn’t awful, and he figured if he showed up on time, he could enjoy five blessed minutes of silence before whatever tension still lingered from yesterday ruined the atmosphere again.
He was halfway to the entrance of the station when a large car pulled into the spot in front of him.
At first he didn't pay it any mind, until...
Hold on.
Was that the SUV?
He looked at the car properly.
Volkswagen Touareg. Same exact model Semir spent an entire day raging about. It was the car.
The driver’s door opened.
Andre stepped out.
Passenger door followed a second later.
Semir.
Tom blinked. What? They showed up together?
Tom watched in stunned silence as Andre walked around the car, met Semir halfway, and they kissed, something they did every morning before then. Just a quick peck on the lips, Semir always said it was a good luck kiss, cheesy bastard.
They walked toward the station together.
Together.
Tom stayed frozen in place, only forced to move when one of his colleagues honked at him for standing in the middle of the road.
When he followed them inside, he saw them standing in the hallway, talking to Bonrath. Andre had a hand on Semir’s lower back. Again, gesture he commonly did almost daily.
They passed Andrea afterwards. She gave them a quick smile, looked between them, then shot Tom a look like did I miss a memo or are we all just pretending yesterday didn’t happen.
Tom could only shake his head in puzzled disbelief. He followed Semir to their office when the pair separated and Andre went to his own office.
Semir dropped his jacket on the back of his chair and turned on his computer. He noticed Tom behind him so he left the door open for his partner to come inside. When Tom did, Semir flashed him a smile."Morning."
Tom stared at him for a full three seconds.
Semir raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Tom pointed vaguely toward the window. “The car.”
“The car?” Semir repeated, visibly puzzled.
“You were ready to set it on fire yesterday.” Tom continued, utter disbelief in his voice."What happened?"
Semir looked out of the window for a second, then shrugged. “It’s not that bad.”
Tom blinked slowly. “What?”
Semir leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “I guess you were right. If we’re gonna have a family, we might need a spacious car.”
Tom stared at him like he was trying to read a language no one spoke anymore. “Okay, hold on. That’s not what you said yesterday. Yesterday you said you’d rather eat the registration than sit in it.”
Semir didn’t respond. Just opened his email like this was the most normal morning of his life.
Tom narrowed his eyes. “What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s a lie.”
Semir clicked something and squinted at the screen. “We took it for a ride last night. I guess I just… got used to it.”
Tom didn’t buy that for a second. “You were raging yesterday. You refused to look at the thing.”
Semir shrugged again, face a little too blank. “It's not terrible.”
Tom leaned forward slowly, suspicious. “Did he guilt trip you? Make a sad speech?”
“No.”
“Did he bribe you?”
“No.”
“Did he cry?”
Semir snorted. “He didn't even cry at our own wedding.”
Tom tilted his head, narrowed his eyes. “Then what the hell did he do?”
Semir didn’t answer. Just kept looking at his screen like the case notes were suddenly life or death.
Tom waited.
“Well?”
“I’m working.”
“You didn't touch the keyboard once.”
Semir reached for his coffee, took a sip, still didn’t look up. “Like I said. We took it for a ride and I changed my mind.”
Tom stared at him.
Semir clicked into the next folder, completely blank-faced.
“It’s very spacious,” he added, like that clarified anything.
Tom leaned forward, watching him. “Did you have sex in the car?”
Semir spat his coffee."What? No."
Tom stared at him. Hard.
Semir cleared his throat and shifted his gaze away.
“You did.” Tom said, deadpan."That's the face of guilt conscience."
“I told you we didn't,” Semir repeated, too fast.
“Semir, you failed as a negotiator for a reason,” Tom said flatly. “You're a terrible liar. You had sex with Andre in that car, didn't you?”
Semir made a show of minimizing the window on his screen, like that was somehow going to get him out of this conversation."I don't even know why are we having this conversation. Don't you have work to do?"
Tom didn’t budge. “You went from ‘return it or else’ to ‘it’s spacious’ in under twelve hours. Something happened in that car.”
“You act like I can't change my opinion,” Semir tried.
Tom raised an eyebrow.
Semir groaned and put his head in his hands before throwing his hands."Yes, okay, we had sex in the car, there, happy?"
Tom blinked. Once. Then again, slower.
“Wow.”
Semir leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, glaring at nothing in particular. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not judging,” Tom said, raising both hands. “I’m just trying to understand how we went from vehicular betrayal to automotive foreplay in one evening.”
Semir glared at him.
Tom bit back a grin. “Christ, you're so easy to break." He couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him."He's really got you wrapped around his finger, and here I thought it'd be the other way around."
Semir’s glare sharpened. “I didn’t break. I just realized there are… positives. Practical ones.”
Tom gave him a flat look. “Yeah, you got one big positive in the back-”
Semir picked up the nearest file folder and slapped Tom with it."Would you shut up?!"
Tom broke into giggles."You little slut."
When Semir grabbed his gun next, Tom took off running out of the office.