Gotham Fic – Could’ve Been a Porn Star

Gotham. Jim Gordon/Harvey Bullock. 3500 words. Explicit.
Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics. Mating Cycles/In Heat. Knotting. Trapped In Elevator. Elevator Sex. Intersex. Body Image. Infertility.
Read on AO3 instead.

“That’s the spirit,” Harvey said, as Jim tasted his pulse. “I’m primed and ready to go, big boy. It’s been a while for me too, but you know how it goes: it’s just like riding a horse.”

“Bicycle,” Jim snarled. “Like riding a bicycle.”

Written for this prompt on the Gotham kink meme.

Could’ve Been a Porn Star

When the freight elevator ground to a halt between floors, the first thing Jim did was find the phone box and flip it open. Harvey on the other hand, pounded the down button and then rattled the wooden gate when the car wouldn’t budge.

“Could you keep it down?” Jim said, phone in hand.

Scowling, Harvey gave the gate one last shake before he settled into the corner and let Jim make the call. Even without Harvey making noise it was a little tough to hear, the voice on the other end of the line wrapped in static. The operator was helpful even if the solution wasn’t, and Jim silently counted to three before he told Harvey, “We’ve got to wait it out. Two hours at the least.”

“Hours,” Harvey repeated in a drawl. “Two of ‘em.”

“Two of ‘em,” Jim confirmed.

Harvey put his hands to his hips and stamped his foot. The car shook and Jim’s stomach dropped out. Harvey sucked on his upper lip like there was something he really didn’t like about the answer. “You’re sure about that.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. Harvey was acting awfully squirrely. “Yeah. Why?”

Harvey’s face twisted. He looked pained. “You know how that punk kid threw my coat off the roof?”

“Are you still on about your coat?” Jim rolled his eyes and settled himself into the other corner of the car. “There are unis on the ground, they’ve got it.”

“It’s not the coat, it’s what’s in the pocket.”

A nauseating chill seized Jim’s stomach. Did Harvey keep a kit on him? Or some ugly bit of business for Fish that even a uniform couldn’t pretend not to notice? Or shit, could it be a roll of money that’d be gone the moment someone picked the coat up off the pavement.

Seeming to have noticed the alarm crossing Jim’s face, Harvey took an even more aggressively lazy pose. “You know how you’re always teasing me about the mints.”

“The ones that don’t seem to do anything about your onion breath. ‘Cause every time I can smell it from across both our desks.”

“Yeah, those ones,” Harvey said, and the way his gaze slid to the floor started raising up a whole different set of red flags. Jim straightened, his mind slowly slotting two and two together. “They don’t work ‘cause they aren’t actually breath mints, genius. Twice a day, every day.”

“No. You can’t be.” Jim laughed. He shook his head. There was no way. This was Harvey jerking him around, just like the first time he walked into the station and was a good three inches shorter than every other alpha male in the place.

“Thirty minutes give or take and we’ll see if I’m joking.”

Harvey’s flat stare was convincing but not convincing enough. Twelve years in the GCPD was an impossible amount of time for an omega to be around that many alphas without someone finding out. To command the sort of loyalty he had and the ability to make even guys like Baker and Moreno back down. Ridiculous. Hell, in a city like Gotham, there weren’t many omegas left, and the ones that stuck around were junkies or sex workers.

As the minutes passed and the silence in the car grew heavier, doubt crept in. At twenty and counting, Jim called maintenance again and got the same answer and the same apologies. At twenty-five he slipped out of his jacket and started pacing.

“This is bullshit,” he said, hooking his fingers in the slats of the gate. He cracked his neck from side to side.

“Wish I had a deck of cards, or a paperback, or something. Maybe a nice magazine.”

Jim could feel Harvey’s eyes on him, his gaze probably laced with amusement. He refused to look to find out, instead gripping the wood so hard it made his knuckles ache.

The half hour mark came and went but Jim was too annoyed to call Harvey on it. The air in the shaft had grown stale–there was plenty of it to breathe but no movement to stir up the air. It smelled like mold and old brick, metal and grease. Jim scraped his tongue against his teeth and made a startled sound when the elevator car lurched and dropped a couple inches.

“Jesus’s frosty tits.” Harvey shouted, scrambling up from the floor where he’d gotten comfortable.

“Hang on,” Jim said, slipping unconsciously into his keep civilians calm tone as he went for the phone box again.

A gust of fresh air pushed through the car. “Don’t be alarmed,” the crackling voice told him. “Crew got here early. Another thirty and we’ll have you two out of there!”

Relieved, Jim passed on the news.

With his arms folded over his chest, Harvey looked less thrilled. “Not early enough.”

“Hey, only another ha–” Jim started to say, but he trailed off mid-word. He grit his teeth. “Please tell me you were lying.”

But with the air circulating again, even sluggishly, Jim could smell it now, heavier than the grease and sharper than the metal, creeping across the space between them: Heat. Harvey’s heat.

“Sorry you had to find out this way, buddy.”

Jim wound his hands around the wood again. It wasn’t like he couldn’t control himself. Though this was a tight space, so it wouldn’t be a cake walk. He breathed through his mouth to minimize the scent, soft quick breaths that would dry out his tongue if his mouth would stop flooding with saliva. Harvey fucking Bullock. Harvey. Who had been idealistic once. Enough so that joining the GCPD as an omega sounded like a good idea.

Harvey, his partner. Who was a few feet away and probably getting more worked up by the minute. Who might get desperate enough to start rubbing up against him, who might push against his hand if Jim slapped one to his chest like back in that nursing home–only not to get past him, but to get close to him.

“Why do you smell so fucking good?” Jim growled between clenched teeth. “How, when you still stink like that sandwich. I hate sauerkraut.”

“Not today you don’t,” Harvey answered. He didn’t sound entirely pleased about it either until he said, “When’s the last time you knotted, Jimbo, you might as well quit fighting it. We’re both big boys. We’ll get through it.”

Jim thought about what Barbara smelled like when she was on her belly for him, beta biology yet so beautifully submissive. But memory couldn’t hope to match reality. It didn’t make him hunger and swell in his pants in the same way, didn’t make his skin prickle and his very bones ache with the desire to turn around and push Harvey to the floor.

“If you don’t dick me, Gordon,” Harvey said, and Jim could tell then just how hard he was fighting it too. “You make an excuse, alright? You cuff me here, and you go out first and you lock that fucking gate, you hear me?”

“Pheremone popper,” Jim suggested. “I can tell them the kid broke one open. Something new. Real powerful.”

“Good thinking, partner, I like that. Simple.” Harvey nodded, and fumbled at his belt for the bracelets.

Jim made the mistake of looking at him, of his head ducked down, tousled hair falling into his eyes. It must’ve been tough for him growing up. Male omegas with that kind of height and the bulk to fill it out were uncommon, picked on even worse. When Harvey looked up at Jim through the mop of his hair, Jim could see the vulnerability in his gaze, the gratefulness, and oh, fuck, the scent that filled Jim’s nose on the next breath made his spine light like a fuse. He pulled away from the gate, took a step towards Harvey with a hand out, could feel already the way Harvey’s skin would burn to the touch. Was he wet already? Dripping?

The phone rang and it wasn’t until the second shrill ring that Jim forced himself to turn around and answer it. The plastic creaked in his grip as he focused on the words and not the urgency swarming under his skin. When he hung up again, he resisted the urge to punch the wall. “Harvey,” he said, and pulled his own bracelets out of their case. He forced his voice to stay steady, keep it from betraying just how badly Harvey’s heat was getting to him. “We’re back to another hour of waiting. I’ll stay on this side of the car, and you stay over there. I’ll call down, give them the line about the poppers, and we’ll get through this.”

Harvey didn’t move, the cuffs open and dangling from his fingers. He gaze was fixed on Jim’s crotch, the bulge that distorted the line of his slacks. “Whatever you say,” he mumbled, and the quick slide of his tongue over his lip turned it wet and glistening.

“Harvey,” Jim said. “Harvey, cuff yourself to that fucking rail or I swear to God, you’re going to be footing the lunch bill for a month.”

He almost did it, and he certainly responded to the authority in Jim’s voice, but in all the wrong ways. Harvey flashed a defiant look at him and crammed the cuffs in his pants pocket. “What, I’m not good enough for ya?” He pulled a face, stance widening with the sort of posture that screamed alpha, but that just made the scent pouring off him stronger. “I know I ain’t no skinny perfect piece of ass like your girl. Hell, I can’t even get knocked up. I’m a shitty excuse for a detective and a shitty excuse for an omega but I am a fucking amazing lay.”

“You’re not–” Jim stopped short when he found himself posturing and shouting back automatically. He set his jaw and stared at Harvey square in the eyes. “You’re not a shitty excuse for a detective.”

“I know that, asshole, I was being facetious.”

“I’m sorry you’re…sterile,” Jim said, focusing on empathy and not the vicious snarl of his hindbrain that said maybe Harvey just hadn’t been knotted by the right alpha.

“What am I gonna do with kids. Besides my sister’s got plenty. Her husband’s never not pregnant.” Harvey didn’t sound particularly upset about it all, but if it were safe, Jim would put a hand on his shoulder regardless. It must’ve been plain how he felt, because Harvey snorted and said, “Quit with the pity pout. Sucks that I still go into heat, but you can fuck me right now and not have to worry about child support.”

“I’m not fucking you, Harvey,” Jim told him, doing a shit job of convincing either of them that it was the truth. “We can make it through this. I’ve done it before.” But keeping it in his pants with a civilian omega he was charged to protect was different, and they hadn’t been confined together in such a small space either. And though she’d begged and rubbed her scent on every inch of that fucking jeep, she’d been wide-eyed and terrified the day before. Harvey on the other hand was his equal. His partner. The man who deferred to him more times than not lately. Who was always asking what was wrong, who wanted to help him. Ready and willing. “Look, you-”

“Look nothing. Shut your piehole,” Harvey said, and Jim could see him losing the same internal battle. Harvey clawed at his chin, nails scratching down through the whiskers bristling along his throat. He made a sound of pure frustration that rose into a whine before he shouted, “Get off your goddamn pedestal Gordon and stick it in me.”

“I need to–” Jim was already stripping off his tie and his shirt. He couldn’t stop, and fumbled with the small buttons as he grabbed for the phone. He had to let them know.

“Hurry,” Harvey pleaded. Even these days with the range of medications available, you missed one dose of suppressants and it was like nature had to make up for it with a vengeance.

Jim managed somehow, requesting a BEAT squad even as Harvey drew close behind him. He whipped around when he could feel the warmth of Harvey’s body from a foot away, and the smell of his arousal–fuck. Jim grabbed him by the arms and pushed him up against the wall, pinning him there at the shoulders. Harvey grinned, head turning just enough to bare his throat, his hands tugging at Jim’s belt.

“That’s the spirit,” Harvey said, as Jim tasted his pulse. “I’m primed and ready to go, big boy. It’s been a while for me too, but you know how it goes: it’s just like riding a horse.”

“Bicycle,” Jim snarled. “Like riding a bicycle.”

Harvey gripped him through his jockeys and muttered, “Whatever.”

“Get out of your clothes, Harvey,” Jim told him. Taste of sweat and scents on his tongue, he peeled away from Harvey and hurriedly shed himself of the rest of his own clothes. He needed the press of flesh, to slide his skin against Harvey’s as he mounted him. He was achingly hard, his cock curving up and so thick with blood that it glistened. He caught Harvey by the nape, pulled him down into a full kiss and kept kissing him, bearing him down until Harvey was on the floor, his knees drawn up and wide.

Jim licked at his neck, whiskers rough under his tongue, dampening the taste of Harvey’s skin in a way that only made it better when he put his mouth to the meat of Harvey’s chest where the scent of him was thick and musky. With a body beneath him and his own scent spread onto Harvey the urgency was lessened, though Harvey couldn’t keep still, his hips rising, his breath fast and his eyes dark with lust. “You’re like the slowest fuck in Gotham. You’re making me leave a puddle here. That’s supposed to be your job.”

“Quit squirming!” He should’ve put Harvey on his knees, but Jim had always liked feeling an omega cling to him more than he liked rutting away like an animal, preferred knotting face to face where there were kisses to be shared. His cock rubbed against Harvey’s, and a shift of his hips got him nudging near Harvey’s hole, slick and opened. Jim reached down, fingers finding the loose skin of his sac, testes already withdrawn, and the slickness spread across all that soft flesh– Jim groaned and wormed his tongue into the crease of Harvey’s armpit as he slid his fingers into the sucking heat of Harvey’s body; he hadn’t been exaggerating about being soaked.

With slippery fingers, Jim guided his cock into Harvey’s hole, keeping his hand there to feel it as he fucked in deeper. Then instinct took over, need and hunger driving him to move, to slap his hand to Harvey’s thigh and fuck into him with desperate thrusts that made Harvey gasp and swear and claw at his back.

A part of him was offended, that primal deep down ugliness that said Harvey shouldn’t act like that, shouldn’t yell at him to go harder. Shouldn’t make such a low, gutteral sound when he was getting pounded, a groan that was halfway to a snarl and matched the noise that rose out of Jim as he hooked his arms under Harvey’s shoulders and braced a foot against the wall to fuck into him even harder.

“That’s it, yeah, c’mon. Fill me up,” Harvey said. He shoved a hand between them to grip his cock, his knuckles grazing Jim’s belly as he jacked himself. “Turn on that fucking firehose, boy scout.”

“Oh my God, Harvey, shut up.” Jim rubbed his jaw against Harvey’s chest, scenting him further, breathing in the mix of their bodies and shuddering as it made his cock swell further and twitch. If he reached down now, he’d have a chance to keep from knotting Harvey. “I’m going to–”

“Don’t you fucking dare pull out,” Harvey told him, and if for a moment Jim had been meaning to say precisely that, his resolve shattered when Harvey lifted his head up and looked at him. Mouthing off orders or not, the look in Harvey’s eyes was all omega, sweet and vulnerable, and it hooked right into the center of Jim’s sternum. “Do it for me, partner, c’mon. Just this once. I haven’t gotten fucked like this since college.”

Jim sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “You say the most romantic things,” he muttered, but his heart was tight in his chest regardless. There was really nothing to do, so he kissed Harvey again, licked deep into his mouth and turned another attempt at words into a high keening whine to be devoured.

He broke the kiss when he could feel the first hot pulse surging up out of him. He sucked in lungfuls of air with the same desperation as Harvey’s frantic attempt to come at the same time as him. Jim fucked in deep and held there, toes working for purchase on the slick linoleum as he nudged his hips tighter against the soft cradle of Harvey’s body, needing to wedge his thickening cock in as far as possible as wave after wave of come rushed out of him. Already it was leaking out of Harvey’s hole, spreading onto his thighs, dripping onto the floor in a soft patter of drops that went quiet as more and more spilled free. Jim tried to pull back and fuck in one more time, to feel the wet slide of his own come along the length of his cock but Harvey was already tight around him, fitting so perfectly that he hadn’t even felt the slow clench of muscles contracting around his knot.

Open-mouthed and panting cheek-to-cheek with Harvey, Jim managed to say, “I’m sorry,” between breaths.

Harvey’s hand was still on his dick, tugging rhythmically. His eyes were screwed shut and he didn’t pause as he rasped out, “For what?”

“For ever doubting you.”

Harvey squirmed under Jim, the pull of his body seized up so tight triggered another gushing spasm that left Jim whimpering. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I like you Harvey. I’ve really–fuck–underestimated you. You’ve got a lot of guts for sticking it out in the department.” Jim dragged a lick across the side of Harvey’s face, levered himself up onto one wrist to put a hand between them. He closed his fingers over Harvey’s, set a new pace for his partner as he nuzzled his face against Harvey’s short beard. “And it’s not just the knot making me say that.”

“You’re too soft for your own good, Jim,” Harvey said tenderly. He turned his face toward Jim’s, and he trembled as he came.

Harvey’s orgasm made him even tighter, made the heavy smell of sex and come sting with a fresh flood of pheremones, and Jim’s cock twitched hard, a third orgasm drawn out of him in a pulsating rush that left him spent and shaking.

They were still knotted when the phone rang, and kept on ringing when Jim couldn’t be bothered to even attempt to reach. When it cut off, the elevator chugged back into motion, easing down to the ground floor where a BEAT squad met them with a field kit.

Curled over Harvey, Jim tried to refuse the medical attention for the both of them, but the beta was insistent. “We’ll administer an aerosol suppressant immediately,” he said, pulling one from the kit. “But Detective Bullock will need to get checked as soon as we have the two of you separated. There could be severe internal damage.”

A spike of worry made Jim’s arms tighten reflexively around Harvey. If the beta got a good look, he’d know the truth; alphas weren’t built for this. With enough lubrication and patience, even Jim’s other hole could take a cock, but trying to pretend Harvey naturally managed to take the whole of him plus his knot was a hard lie to sell. “Hospital,” Jim insisted. “You think he wants to be humiliated any further by doing that here?”

The beta’s brows furrowed. “The risk–”

“Fuck the risk, and fuck you, Gordon, I’m right here and I can speak for myself,” Harvey roared. He grabbed the front of the medic’s shirt and pulled him in close. “You get us split, and I promise you I won’t die before I get to Gotham General. Big dick, big hole, I could’ve been a porn star. Hell, if you want a turn right now, I’ve never been double dicked before.”

Jim bit back a laugh. He approximated a shrug as Harvey shoved the medic back. “Just get us apart,” he said. “I promise I’ll take care of him.”

“I ain’t your bitch, partner.”

“No. No, you’re certainly not.”

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