#fbii

I love you, thank you for sending the prompt 💛 happy birthday to me I got to finally post some FieldMouse!!!

It was rare to get the chance to spend time together in person. Wes was at the mercy of the cases his team pursued, and it wasn't exactly easy to carve out the time in the middle of an investigation for a date night. He wasn't in the right country most of the time to even attempt to plan lunch, or make a dinner reservation, or even take an hour to get coffee and a pastry. When he wasn't shuttling around Europe to stop some criminal or another, he was in Budapest.

And his boyfriend was in Athens, which wasn't even in the same time zone.

It was only a one hour difference. But still.

He'd always been in the same city as his partner, in the past. A different country and a different time zone were never anything he'd had to navigate before. He'd considered it, with Ella, but that had fallen apart before he could put it to the test. That would have been an eleven hour time difference, and a much messier relationship to maintain than what he'd ended up stumbling into with Mouse - which was saying something, considering the identity confusion that had occurred the night they met.

I love them. thank you for enabling me. 💛

Mouse chuckled to himself while he rolled onto his back in the sheets. The offer to meet up for lunch had been genuine, and they had spent an hour over sandwiches and cold drinks, sharing stories about their lives from the months they had spent apart. Going to see Wes's apartment afterwards wasn't planned, but it was nearby the little café they'd eaten at, and they were just going to stop in for a minute before they went out again, under the insistence that Mouse should see some of the hidden sights that only a semi-local would know about.

They definitely hadn't meant to fall into bed, with lips on lips and flesh on flesh. Mouse would worry about what it all meant later - sleeping with someone on two separate occasions, traveling to another country to do it, the passing thought that he'd do it again and again if the option presented itself. But he had more important things to worry about in that moment, like those increasingly familiar lips taking a leisurely route down the side of his neck. It was enough to draw out a low, satisfied moan, and he let his eyes slide closed so that he didn't have to focus on anything else.

The sex had been good enough, the first time, to make him get on a place at just the possibility of being able to experience it again. And that was while they were both drunk off their asses and thinking about other people. When they were sober and focusing on each other, it was something close to phenomenal.

FieldMouse jaw kisses!!!

Hi, Rainbow, it's time for me to be totally and completely normal about FieldMouse jaw kisses (me when I'm lying)

So, I did allude to it in the fic, very briefly. It does involve Wes telling Mouse about his childhood, and the things that his father did (fuck Dean Bartlett, all my homies hate Dean Bartlett), and then Mouse doing his best to be comforting? I am going to write a fic about that weekend, and when they really open up to each other and share everything, because I love them and how perfect this little ship ended up being, for my personal brand of angst.

I'll go into it more below, including a brief rundown on Wes's backstory for anyone unfamiliar with FBI: International 💛

warnings: child abuse, domestic abuse, drug use, drug overdose, drug addiction, parent death, referenced past suicide attempt

hello hello. happy birthday to me, I'm writing FieldMouse! so, uh... here's a snippet of my rarest of pairs? because as much as I want to finish this fic today, it's not likely with everything going on this afternoon. please enjoy this little treat!

When Mouse's face finally popped up on his computer screen, the video was tall and narrow, giving away the use of his phone before the toothbrush in his mouth did. The sight was soft and casual enough to make Wes smile despite everything else going on in his life. It wasn't even a familiar sight, just a comforting one, and a look into the parts of his boyfriend's routine that he didn't usually get to glimpse.

A part of Wes wanted to feel guilty for interrupting the quiet evening, but a larger, louder part of him knew that he didn't have to. Mouse had been the one to suggest the call, and told him to call whenever he wanted, and he answered when Wes did, and he was ready to listen even in the middle of getting ready to settle in for the night. Being able to see his boyfriend, even on a screen, was a million times more comforting than a text or just the sound of his voice. Maybe they should do this more often, without the stress of his biological father deciding to stalk him to the other side of the planet. It would probably make the distance easier to handle. They'd miss each other a bit less.

Mouse returned the smile easily, with one that reached all the way to his eyes. It was the exact same expression he wore when they sat down together for coffee, or the time he picked Wes up at the airport in Athens and excitedly jumped into answering all of his questions about the city with a sense of gusto. He was just as happy to see the digital version of Wes as Wes was to see him.

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