Wallander wasn't sure if he'd woken first or if Martinsson was pretending to be asleep so that he could sneak out of the younger man's apartment without confronting the awkwardness they had conceived the night before. Sensibility said that he should move, get out before the memories had the opportunity to turn into regret. Magnus was his coworker, a subordinate and they had- Kurt closed his eyes and breathed in. No use in denying it, they had fucked. Shared a few drinks after a particularly difficult case and neither man had thought to stop what ensued.
Kurt stayed still for a moment, eyes closed, and tried to remember when he'd forgotten how good it felt to lay beside someone. His chest was pressed to Magnus' back, with his arms around his torso and his breath stirring the curls on the nape of his neck. The blanket was crumpled at the foot of the bed, the contact between their bodies enough to make it unneeded. The intimacy was comfortable, tempting in a way that Kurt hadn't experienced since long before Mona and him separated.
A soft curse gusted from Kurt's lips as the thought of his ex-wife banished the utterly insane notion of staying to coax Martinsson from sleep. He extracted his legs from where they had been tangled with the younger man's and sat up. The taste of ale lingered stale on his tongue, mixed with the salt of the sweat that he'd licked from Magnus' skin.
He ignored the stickiness on his body as he used the faint light from the window to locate his wayward clothes. He slipped into them, grappling with his uncooperative pant legs as quietly as he could. He stood as he smoothed the wrinkled from his shirt, the floor boards groaned beneath him. Kurt stilled and waited for Martinsson to stir.
Mangus didn't move, didn't murmur in his sleep nor did he snap awake. Either he was a really deep sleeper, which Wallander knew he wasn't, or he was already awake and knew that Kurt would be unwilling to talk about what had occurred. When had Martinsson started to expect the older investigator to treat him like shit? Wallander wondered, shoving away the guilt as he continued out of the bedroom. The floor creaked again but he was already at the door, slipping out and closing it behind him.
He'd have to buy Martinsson a drink to make up for it, Kurt amended silently, a non-alcoholic one.
At work that day Martinsson approached his desk, stood silently behind him. Kurt got the feeling that the younger investigator was waiting for something but refused to give him any attention. The tension increased until it was nearly palpable, until Kurt was ready to say anything just to make the silence to away.
Finally with a defeated sigh that cut deeply into Wallander, Magnus reached over and set something on the desk. Kurt looked at it as Martinsson moved away; then picked up his phone and slipped it into his pocket. He hadn't even realized he'd left it behind in his hurry.
A.N. I am currently obsessed with Loki/Tom Hiddleston/Magnus Martinsson. So there'll probably be more Wallander fics from me, probably crossed over with Thor/Avengers because Loki would definitely love to mess with Kurt's head.