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Pairing:John Munch/Odafin Tutuola
Rating: PG-13
Words: 500
Summary: Elliot stumbles upon something he doesn't need to see at the precinct holiday party.
Disclaimer: All characters property of NBC/Dick Wolf. This story is purely written for fun and not for profit.
Elliot was not in the mood for the precinct’s annual holiday party this year. With just two days to go until Christmas, he had way too many things to do and not nearly enough time to get to them all. He still had to find the right gift for Kathy, hunt down some video game Dickie kept begging for but appeared to be sold out everywhere in the city, and likely stay up all night Christmas Eve assembling the oversized dollhouse for Elizabeth that he’d been cursing since he saw it in the trunk of Kathy’s car.
The only thing he wanted to do at this moment was take a nap and reserve his strength for the nightmarish battles to come.
So with a mug of eggnog in hand, he slipped away from the festivities in the bullpen, shedding the felt reindeer antlers Olivia had propped above his ears before they gave him a headache. He truly admired the captain for maintaining his sobriety through this nonsense and wondered how Don managed to do it.
Easy. He doesn’t have four kids at home. Now, if he could manage to catch a few minutes of shut-eye in the crib, maybe he could fortify himself to brave the crowds at Macy’s once this party was over and at least take care of Kathy’s gift tonight.That was his plan. At least until he opened the bunk room door and saw what surely had to be stress-induced hallucination. Either that or someone had slipped something stronger than rum into the egg nog.
For there before him, leaning up against the side of one of the bunks, were two of his coworkers making out like a pair of sex-starved teenagers. That alone might not have been quite so disconcerting, given ’tis the season and all of that, except for the fact that those coworkers were none other than Fin and Munch.
And no, that was not the image he needed burned into his corneas forevermore. The two men lip-locked and grinding together, Fin’s Santa hat crooked from John’s hand toying with his ponytail and Fin’s hand where—
“Oh God I need to get out of here,” Elliot muttered, turning tail and cursing the holidays more than ever.
*
John looked up, startled for a second. He could have sworn he’d heard someone, or something besides Fin’s moans against his eager lips.
“What’s wrong?” Fin asked.
“You hear someone?” John’s eyes darted toward the door that he thought he’d locked behind them. Then again, he had been extremely distracted by Fin’s promise to “ring his jingle bells so fast no one would miss them” back at the party.
“Ain’t no one here but us. You gonna let me get back to business?” Fin dropped to his knees and yanked down John’s pants with him.
“Oh hell yes and ho ho ho-oh, fuck.”
“Mmm, I’m savin’ that for home.”
“Guess that’s when Santa Claus is coming...” John shuddered. “And he won’t be the only one.”