It had never been about what he wanted.
Hale was so close now, Elliot could feel his breath on his face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something this bad.” His voice was low. “When’s the last time you let yourself want something, Shaw?”
The question sat there, unanswered. Not because he didn't know—but because he’d never let himself want anything outside the parameters he’d been handed. But now—with Hale. He wasn’t sure anymore.
"Come on," Hale said finally. "We're not doing this here."
Elliot knew leaving with Hale contradicted every word he'd given Chen. Knew it was exactly the kind of stupid, reckless decision he never made.
He followed him out anyway.
They ended up in the equipment shed behind the training facility. Far enough from the barracks that no one would accidentally stumble in. Close enough that they could get back before anyone noticed.
Hale closed the door behind them.
Gear and supplies filled the cramped space. No windows, only one overhead light that barely worked. And Hale, filling more of the room than was comfortable.
Elliot’s skin prickled.
"We shouldn't be here," he said.
"You keep saying that." Hale leaned against the door, arms crossed. "And yet here you are."
"To talk."
"Right." Hale's mouth flattened. "That's why you followed me to an empty shed. To talk."
Elliot's shoulders tensed. "What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to stop pretending you don’t want this just as much as I do." Hale pushed off the door.
Elliot saw the tension in Hale’s neck. He clasped his hands behind his back to stop himself from reaching out. "We can't?—"
"Can't what?" Hale's voice came out raspy. "Can't want each other? Can't think about the last two and a half months? Can't admit that fourteen days isn't enough?"
Elliot's mouth went dry. Hale planted himself right in front of him, close enough to touch. Waiting.
"Tell me you want me to leave. Tell me you don't want this. And I'll go."
Elliot opened his mouth. Closed it again.
Hale's eyes darkened. He leaned in, his mouth close to Elliot’s ear. "Say it, Shaw."
He couldn't.
Hale's hand came up, fingers curling in Elliot's shirt. He pulled him forward slightly, their mouths almost touching. Not quite kissing. Just hovering there, the space between them electric.
"Last chance," Hale murmured.
When Elliot didn’t respond, Hale licked across Elliot's bottom lip, slow and deliberate. The kind of touch that went straight through Elliot's spine and made his knees unreliable. Hale's teeth caught his lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, and Elliot's hands shot up to grab Hale's shoulders.
“t’es pas possible,” Elliot breathed.
Hale pulled back enough to meet his eyes, the corner of his lips turned up. "Sorry. I don’t speak French."
Elliot yanked him forward and kissed him hard.
