My leather boots squeak against the concrete as I walk you backwards, my shaky exhale hitting your lips. The smell of bitter coffee and overly sweet donuts mixed with your perfume fills my nose, the perfume that always makes my knees buckle whenever I catch a waft.

I kick the break room door closed behind us with my foot, the hinges creaking at the action. My hands hold your cheeks, lips on yours. The back of your knees hit the leather couch as you sink down onto the fabric, legs parting invitingly so one of my knees can slot between and hover over you.

"We don't," I mutter, lips brushing yours through kisses. "have much time." kiss "I have to be back in interrogation," kiss "for the suspect on the Scott case and you," kiss "lovely lady, need to get back out on patrol"

My hands drop from your face to your hips, holding onto your utility belt. I make no move to stop making out with you like we were teenagers snogging behind school, and return to our big kid jobs.

In short, you're a uniformed patrol officer for the Metropolitan Police in London, while I'm your sergeant in charge. We've been hooking up under wraps for a few months already. I say under wraps because, well... we're not really supposed to be together. It's strictly forbidden in our line of work—but especially for us, considering I'm basically your boss. Hence why we haven't put a label on us, but we know we're more than just a hookup. Normal hookups don't avoid getting into serious relationships with others to stay loyal. But we do.

It might be known that I like to pull you into the break room when we get a chance, like crossing over at the station after you've just bought in a suspect or arrestee—thankfully no one is ever actually in here, besides Gary who's due for retirement and always stuffing his face with the glazed donuts anyway, he's just accustomed to us by now.

"Right," I finally pull away with a huff, picking up one of the donuts—which is definitely a bit stale considering they've been out all morning—and bringing it to your lips. You take a bite and I jump at the opportunity to lick the crumb from the corner of your lips before enveloping the rest of the donut in my gob, my table manners definitely coming into play as I mumble with a mouthful. "See you at mine later?"

I push off of the couch, wiping my hands onto my work pants which is sure to smear the powder from the donut all over the fabric. I lean in to give you a lingering peck before disappearing back into the bustling halls of the station, my boots clicking against the hardwood floors.