Miles didn't like his glasses very much. As far as he was concerned they were a necessary evil. Well, perhaps not that bad but he would have preferred to live life without them. It was his wife, Judy, who had urged him to go to the opticians for an eye test when she'd caught him squinting at the newspaper one Sunday morning over breakfast.

At first he'd tried to get away with not wearing them but every time Judy had seen him struggling she'd placed his glasses down beside him and huffed and puffed over him until he'd put them on. Then his young son had been prescribed glasses and deciding to set an example, Miles had worn them every time he had to read from that point on. He'd kind of got used to them now and grudgingly admitted that they were beneficial when he no longer suffered from eye strain or headaches.

Chandler's experience of glasses was much different. Luckily for him, he didn't need to wear them himself but that didn't stop him noticing when other people wore them. It had all started at university when one of his lecturers had worn glasses and Chandler had gradually become rather obsessed with them. The man was incredibly intelligent, had a quick wit and just so happened to be fifteen years his senior. The fact that Chandler was also able to recognise the man's good looks was something he decided not to think too much about.

He told himself he simply liked the aesthetic quality of the frames and how they enhanced, rather than diminished, the man's attractiveness. He would anticipate the moment when the lecturer's glasses would slip slightly and he'd push them up the bridge of his nose with one finger as he looked up from his books. And he loved it when the other man looked straight at him and he was able to appreciate the full force of those piercing blue eyes through the lens.

Chandler began looking forward to his lectures more and more. He found the subject matter interesting anyway, regardless of who was teaching, and because he paid so much attention he was convinced the lecturer singled him out and sought his opinion more than the others, which only served to make his infatuation worse. After months of working up the courage, Chandler finally told him how he felt. The man let him down gently but Chandler was crushed.

Eventually he got over it and decided to put the incident down to experience. For a while he found himself super aware of anyone who wore glasses but as his life settled back down to normal, he came to realise it had never been entirely about the glasses, but rather the individual wearing them; the eyewear had just been something he could fixate over to save himself from having to address his feelings for another man. For Chandler it was all about admiration, respect and intelligence.

He also had to feel a connection and it just so happened he felt this with Ray Miles.

And the glasses? Well, they were a bonus.

When they were around other people and Miles wore his glasses, Chandler had to make a conscious effort not to stare. He was determined not to let this preoccupation with his sergeant interfere with his work but during quiet moments when his mind was free to wander, he couldn't help observing him in secret and the glass door that separated them allowed him to do just that.

Miles was stood by his desk looking over some papers that Mansell had just handed him. He was frowning slightly, trying to process whatever he was reading. When he automatically raised a hand to adjust his glasses, Chandler was instantly transported back to his university days. He had a sudden urge to wrench open his office door, stride purposely over and invade Miles' personal space until the older man was forced to lean backwards over his desk in order to avoid him. He wanted to press the length of his body against Miles', using his height and bearing to show his authority.

He snapped out of his fantasy when he realised Miles was now sat down. He was still leafing through the papers but when one caught his interest more than the others he removed his glasses, holding them in front of him as he perused the page, the tip of one arm resting gently between his lips. Chandler swallowed hard, all his attention focused on Miles' mouth. It wasn't until Miles glanced up and managed to catch his eye that he looked away in shame.

Embarrassed by his weakness, Chandler bit his lip and tried to make himself look busy, completely missing the smirk that crossed the other man's face.

Over the last few months Miles had noticed Chandler behaving differently around him. It hadn't affected their relationship in any way but on occasion he had caught Chandler staring at him for no apparent reason. Having got used to Chandler's strange ways by now, Miles hadn't bothered bringing the subject up because he knew Chandler liked to deal with things in his own way, but it still confused the hell out of Miles – until it occurred to him that Chandler's new habit seemed to happen more frequently whenever Miles wore his glasses.

So when he'd felt Chandler's eyes on him once again, he hadn't set out to be purposely suggestive but when he'd looked up, it was obvious that Chandler's eyes had followed the path his glasses had taken and had consequently been drawn to his mouth.

Miles chuckled to himself; if his boss had developed some kind of obsession with his glasses, who was he to judge? Especially if it meant he could have some fun with it.