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The transition from March and Healy as The Nice Guys Agency to Healy being included with March family business like raising Holly, doing simple errands with them and going grocery shopping was something neither of them saw coming (except from Holly). Maybe the transition happened when Healy finally bit the bullet and ended his lease to his still broken and shitty apartment and moved in with the March’s when they moved into their new house that had an additional third bedroom.
As soon as they became a three they had quickly and easily slipped into a routine which was a little bit scary for Healy, he had never had this, even when he was with his ex-wife they never had something like this, something like him waking up first and sorting Holly out breakfast when he heard her get up next, then a sleepy Holland would appear a while after, dragging his feet as he grabbed the cup of coffee Healy had made him.
Some days Holland took Holly to school while Jackson prepared for their next job with information and locations, other days Healy was the one to drop off and pick up Holly, and on occasion they’d both do it and head off for work straight away.
Maybe it was the natural process of the grieving period or the stability of life now that they were getting constant cases and he wasn’t the only adult taking care of his teen daughter, but Holland found himself not itching for a drink so early anymore, he didn’t instantly reach for a bottle whenever he came home, instead he was actually eating full meals thanks to Healy. The day Holland had walked into the kitchen and saw the sight of Jackson Healy actually cooking was something he never expected to see. It turned out that when Jackson had an actual kitchen he could cook a decent (but simple) meal and Holly definitely appreciated the good food.
It was a Wednesday morning when the March-Healy household were running late, they had to meet with a client right after dropping Holly off so it was typical that not only was Holly running late but Holland had missed his alarm which had Healy knocking on his bedroom door ten minutes before they had to leave. Holly had ran past him in the hall with a toothbrush in her mouth and hairbrush in the other while March clumsily rushed to get dressed, Healy had laughed at the state of him when he ran out to the car and redid March’s tie for him.
Luckily they made it to Holly’s school only a minute late, she had bolted out of the car before it fully came to a stop with a quick ‘thanks, love you bye’ then the detectives were off. Holland smoothed down his hair in the mirror while Healy drove them across town and up the hills to the mansions.
“You look fine,” Healy reassured him but March kept fussing with his appearance
“I don’t even think this shirt is ironed,”
“It probably is,” Healy quickly glanced at him, “You’re fine March, seriously,” he said but the other just pouted. March was in his maroon suit with a light yellow shirt and dark tie, Healy couldn’t see anything wrong with it.
When they finally pulled up to their client’s gated house March whistled.
“How much do you think this guy makes?” March asked as they drove up the winding drive.
“Dunno but it’s giving me a bad feeling,”
“Like what?”
“Mob,”
“Oh shit,”
“Yeah so we gotta stay professional,”
“Excuse you, I’m always professional,”
“I’m not joking March, these are the last people we want to pick a fight with,”
“Why would I fight someone who’s going to pay us?”
A miserable butler came out to greet them and guided them through the mansion to the client’s office, March had to make a comment about the butler to Healy under his breath and it earned him Healy’s elbow to his side.
The office door closed on them and left them without an exit while they waited for the boss. Healy took a seat but March paced around the office.
“Will you sit down?” Healy asked, the pacing was making him anxious.
“Yeah yeah in a sec,” Holland said and peaked out the window, “Wow you can see so much of LA from here,”
“Just sit down oh my fucking god,” Healy sighed and March quickly sat down in the other chair when he heard the door open.
Their client’s name was Mr Sinclair, business man on paper but Healy had a feeling there was more to it and his suspicions seemed to be correct, the man looked like a stereotypical mobster.
It was clear that Sinclair immediately didn’t like March, as soon as he stepped into the office his eyes ran over March in his maroon suit and he let out a scoff, Healy narrowed his eyes.
“Mr Sinclair I’m Holland March, this is my partner Jackson Healy, you said over the phone that you think your wife is having an affair?” March began but Sinclair didn’t answer straight away, instead he opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a cigar.
“Mr Sinclair?” March tried again but the man just leant back in his leather chair and puffed away.
“I believe my wife Maria is cheating on me,”
“Can you tell us about your suspicions?” March asked another question, Sinclair looked directly at Healy.
“At first I thought nothing of it, she kept coming home late after seeing her friends or shopping but it got later and later, soon I was getting home before she was, she doesn’t work you see,”
“Right,” Healy nodded
“Last week I was driving through town and I saw her sitting outside a restaurant with a man,”
“Could it be her brother or relative?” March asked and Sinclair snarled and finally looked at him
“She doesn’t have a brother,”
“Ah, I see,”
“As I was saying,” he bit out, “I didn’t recognize the man, so I need you two to follow her,”
“We can do that, do you know the places your wife likes to visit?” March asked and opened a little notepad he stored in his inside jacket pocket.
“Why the fuck would I know where a woman goes?” he snarled again. “Maybe to a perfume store or all those clothing brands she wears,”
“You don’t know what brands your wife likes?”
“March,” Healy warned quietly
“No, why should I give a fuck about a brand of clothes? All I care about is her looking nice like she should, as it’s her duty to me,”
“Okay but do you know which area in town that is?”
“No! Don’t you know though? Given the type of man you are I’m sure you can work it out,” he and March tilted his head in confusion
“I’m sorry Mr Sinclair but I don’t know what you mean,” March said with a little bite and the man laughed
“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you go parading around town looking like that and not expecting to be called a faggot,” he said and March stopped breathing for a second, Healy’s jaw clenched. “The moment I saw you I could tell,”
“Mr Sinclair we don’t do business with people who talk like that,” Healy politely warned.
“With a sissy like that, I don’t know how you do business at all,” he replied and March was still frozen in shock. Sinclair’s eyes raked over him again. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong, I can spot a homosexual from a mile away,”
“We’re leaving,” Healy stood up and pulled March up by the arm
“Don’t you want my money? I’ll still give you a job even if he is a faggot,” he said smugly.
March stepped around the desk to Sinclair’s side.
“You know what, your smoking hot twenty year old wife probably is cheating on your old ass, she’s probably disgusted by your old wrinkled ballsack that she has to find someone else to make her feel anything,” March said and slapped the cigar out of Sinclair’s mouth. The man looked in shock that someone had even touched him then laughed with a cough from his old smoker's lungs.
“What even was that?”
“Say it a-fucking-gain, I dare you,” March bit out
“March,” Healy warned
“Fucking queer,” he spat out with a grin and March punched his jaw hard.
Before any more damage could be done Healy threw March out of the way and towards the door.
“You have a good punch for a fruit I’ll give you that,” Sinclair stood up as he held his jaw, “But I’ve had worse,”
“You were asking for it.” Healy said as he quickly pushed March out the door.
They didn’t stick around to see if Sinclair was coming after them or not, they bolted through the mansion and out the front door in seconds. The second they closed the car doors Healy was backing out of the drive and through the automated gate.
March struggled to light a cigarette as he shook in the passenger seat, there was an awkward silence as Healy drove back into town.
“Fuck that guy,” March grumbled
“We’ll pick up a different case,” Healy said
“I don’t give a shit about that case Healy!” he said and rested his elbow on the little window ledge
“Well, ignore what Sinclair said, he clearly has issues with himself,”
“Is it obvious?” Holland asked in a softer tone
“What? That Sinclair is probably gay and hates himself?”
“No. What he said. That I look like a queer?”
“March I don’t…”
“When people look at me can they tell how pathetic I am?” he said and Jackson frowned. March covered his eyes with a hand.
“You’re not pathetic Holland,”
“I am, I’m a pathetic sissy,” a sob escaped and Healy reached over to put a comforting hand on his leg.
“You’re not pathetic. You’re brave,” he said and March shook his head, eyes still covered. “You fucking punched him,”
“Yeah but I think I hurt my hand more than his face,” he said with a watery chuckle. Healy grabbed March’s left hand and looked at the light bruising that was starting to show.
“We’ll get you some ice.”
They stopped at a diner to grab something to eat once Holland had stopped crying. The waitress gave him some ice in a cloth for his knuckles so they sat at the booth waiting for their food while he held it against his hand. Healy couldn’t keep his eyes off of March, his deflated and sunken shoulders, dried teary face and hurt hands. March wouldn’t meet his eyes, he just kept either staring out the window or down at the table.
The melted ice was discarded once their food came but March just picked around his plate so Healy had to keep pushing him to eat.
“Fuck what am I going to tell Holly?”
“That you punched someone? She’s seen you do worse,” Healy snorted
“You know she’ll ask for the story. I don’t exactly want to say oh sweetie your dad was called a f-a fag, like five fucking times so I punched him,” he stabbed a waffle fry with his fork.
“You punched a homophobe, tell her that,” he said and March put his head in his hands again.
“Fuck,”
“March are you uh, having a crisis right now?” he asked and Holland glared at him.
“Is this fucking funny to you?”
“No,” he shook his head
“I knew alright, I know how I look, and usually it’s just kids that call me it because kids call everyone it, but fuck man.”
“It doesn’t matter if you are or aren’t by the way,” Healy said after some time.
“Thanks captain kind,” March mocked him.
March didn’t finish his plate but it was enough for Healy to be satisfied that it was enough. Holland assessed his knuckles while they made it back to the car.
“Still hurts?”
“Yeah, maybe I should have used my right hand instead,”
“It should be long enough for your fracture to have fully healed at least,” he said and March hummed. “Back home?” Healy asked as they got in the car.
“I want a drink,” March said and Healy glanced at the clock, it wasn’t even 11am yet.
They ended up driving back home anyway, Holland immediately downed a shot of whiskey while Jackson checked the answer phone but found no new messages which was probably a good sign honestly. March had dropped his maroon suit jacket and tie on the floor which was unusual for him to not care while sober about wrinkles, Healy picked them up and folded them as neatly as he could (laundry wasn’t his forte) then found March sprawled on the sofa with a full glass of whisky.
“Look I’m just drinking today and I’ll only have a couple, I promise,”
“I’m not worried about that Holland,” Healy said as he sat next to him.
“Yeah well,” he shrugged and drank.
The TV played mindlessly in the background, neither of them paid any attention to it. March had put his more than half finished drink on the coffee table and at some point had slid closer to Healy until he was pressed against his side, then his head lowered until it rested on Healy’s shoulder.
Healy grabbed March’s hand to look at the bruising himself, it would most likely heal in a week or two which wasn’t too bad, the ice had helped ease the swelling down at least.
“I should’ve punched him instead,”
“I can fight my own battles,” March said with a light blush
“I know but your arm has just healed,” he gently held March’s wrist
“I’m fine I promise,” Holland said and put his head back on Healy’s shoulder. “Also I already told you, I forgive you for breaking my arm,”
“I know but still,” Healy sighed.
It was moments like this that usually went unspoken. Tender moments with soft touches that could be classed as something more casual and platonic but with the way March’s heart skipped a beat it definitely felt more than that. His head resting on the other and curled up to his side was teetering on the edge of domestic.
“I really should have punched him too, knocked him out for good measure,” Healy said as he let go of March’s hand.
“No you were smart not to, otherwise we’d have the mob knocking down the door right now,”
Healy just hummed in agreement.
Holland interrupted their peaceful moment with laughter that Healy felt against his side.
“Sorry,” March apologised with more laughter.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s just that you told me not to argue with the guy when we got there,” he said and Healy laughed with him.
“He started it so I’ll let you off,” Healy patted March’s thigh then left his hand there, March looked down at the big hand covering his thigh. He could either let the moment continue just like this and nothing more or he could try something for once.
His brain decided to test the waters so he shifted his body slightly to lean further into Healy, the man’s hand slipping down to his inner thigh. Maybe they should have spoken about this beforehand but March didn’t want to talk about how queer he was anymore today. When Healy realised where his hand had fallen he went to move but Holland quickly held him in place.
“You okay?” Healy asked and March nodded his head with a hum.
Healy rubbed his thumb over the top of his thigh, he tried to focus on the TV and pretend everything was normal but March’s quiet hums and noises in his ear were distracting, then his legs kept shifting and Healy hadn’t realised his hand had travelled up so far until he was half touching March’s crotch, they couldn’t play this off as platonic anymore.
“Holland.” he said and March lifted his head, “We should talk about this,”
“I don’t want to,” he whined
“You may not want to but we gotta,”
“Why?” March shifted his body again so Healy’s hand finally landed where he wanted him, “I think we can figure it out just fine without talking,” he rubbed himself against Healy’s hand.
“March,” Healy said sternly and managed to take his hand away.
“Are you not queer enough to touch me?” March said with disappointment then his face hardened and he stared at his glass on the coffee table. “Because I thought with everything we've shared, all the touches, I thought there was something. But maybe it was my dumb fag brain thinking that there was,”
“It's not that, and your brain isn't stupid,”
“Oh really?” he said coldly
“March you're…” Healy looked at him, Holland was frowning again.
March went to reach for his discarded drink with his bruised hand but Healy grabbed him.
“I'm not used to this, I've never had something this…”
“Queer?” March finished for him but Healy shook his head
“Gentle,”
“We're not gentle,” March snorted
“I'm not talking about while on the job, I'm talking about now, about the touches,” he said and brought March's hand up to his lips.
Holland’s heart skipped a beat when Healy placed a soft kiss on the back of his hand, the fluttering feeling made him feel young again. A whine left his lips when Jackson kissed his wrist then trailed up his palm until he got to his fingers. He went to place more kisses on the digits but March slipped out of the hold, he cupped Healy's jaw then leant in and kissed him on the lips.
The kiss was soft but it was like a switch for them both. When March pulled away they had a whole conversation with their eyes then Healy was pulling the man back into him and the next string of kisses were firmer.
It was easy to tell when March was getting desperate because he tried to get as close as possible. He whined when Healy pushed him away before he could climb into his lap.
“Don't tell me we still have to talk,” he had a teasing tone
“I just need to know if this is a serious commitment for you,”
“Jackson I don't know what could be any more serious, you already live here for christ sake,”
“I just had to confirm it okay,”
“I can do serious. How do you think Holly grew up huh?”
“I believe you,”
“What about you? Can you do serious since your ex-wife?” Holland pulled away further until he was leant against the arm of the sofa and crossed his arms.
“Considering I had a wedding, what do you think?” he said back with a matching bitchy tone,
Holland eased and was back to pouting.
“Okay so we've established that, now back to kissing?” March looked at him with big eyes.
Maybe March’s lips were already too addicting because Healy found himself giving in and pressing March down against the sofa while kissing him. He felt like a teenager again with March’s arms thrown over his shoulders while he laid between Holland’s open legs as they made out.
It was easy to put their small disagreement behind them when they were like this. March was back to making noises that were bordering on moans the more Jackson licked into his mouth.
“Jack,” March panted out and rolled his hips once to get the man to understand
“Do you think I can't feel your boner that's pressed against my thigh?” he said in amusement and March blushed
“Well, I, uh,” he sputtered and shrugged.
Healy pulled back enough to undo March's maroon suit pants and pulled his briefs down to expose his erection, he decided to just pull them off all the way.
“Jack-” he broke off in a moan when Healy leant down and took him into his mouth.
Healy could get addicted to this too, maybe he'd become an addict for giving Holland pleasure or just Holland March in general. Every moan that escaped Holland’s throat went straight to Healy's dick but he resisted pressing his hips into the couch, instead he focused on the hard cock in his mouth.
As he bobbed his head he pressed March’s hips down into the sofa cushions so he’d stop trying to thrust into Healy’s mouth, Holland whined in desperation but Healy didn’t let him, instead keeping it in his control and at his pace. He felt March’s legs close around his head and his back arch underneath him so Jackson hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder, Holland moaned and repeated Jack’s name.
When his words began to slur together Jackson pulled his mouth off and held the base of Holland's dick in a tight ring, the man below him whined at the loss.
“Hey! I was about to come!” he breathed heavily.
“I could tell,” Healy replied smugly then moved back up to kiss March on the mouth. He felt Holland reach for his pants and let him do all the work until his cock was free, Holland pushed him away slightly so he could get a good look at him. “Satisfied?” Healy asked as the man was ogling him then Holland reached out to slowly stroke his thick cock.
“Oh yeah baby,”
Healy knocked March’s hand away to pull his own clothes off then laid down over him, he moaned when their dicks touched where they were trapped between their bodies. March immediately got the memo and locked his arms and legs around Healy’s back then they were back to making out like teenagers while Healy rocked their hips together.
The slide was wet thanks to a mix of Healy’s saliva and precum from both their leaking cocks. Their kisses had broken when March had started panting into Healy’s mouth, Jackson rested his head against the side of March’s, he circled his arms around the man’s thin waist and thrusted his hips fast against him.
“Ah fuck!” Holland moaned loudly next to his ear, the heels of his feet digging into his lower back.
How easy could it have been to angle his cock lower and slip into the whining man, Jackson knew Holland would need to be stretched first but that didn’t stop him from thinking about it as he rutted against him.
“Would you let me fuck you?” Jackson asked as he continued to roll his hips
“Yes,” March tried to nod, “Fuck I want that so bad,” he whined
“Want me to stretch you out?”
“You’re so big,”
“You can take it,” he placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek
“I can, I’ll be so good for you,”
“A good boy for me?” he asked and March moaned
“Just for you, only you,” Holland turned his head and opened his mouth for a kiss.
Holland’s hips rolled up to meet Healy’s, their cocks rubbing raw against each other.
“Wanna come,” Holland begged
“Can you come like this for me?”
“Yea-yeah,”
Healy felt every time the head of their cocks knocked together and he moaned into March’s neck. He pushed Holland down further so the man could no longer move so much and grinded down as hard as he could, causing hot pulsing friction between them.
“Gonna come?” Healy asked
“Yeah baby, so close,” March whined and squeezed his legs that were around Healy’s waist again. “Fuck fuck fuck, Jack I’m, I’m coming, I’m-” he trailed off when his orgasm hit. Jackson felt the warmth of his cum spread over their skin and Healy moaned so low it could have been a growl when he fucked up into the sticky mess. “Ah! Ah too much, Jack it’s too much! My dick,” Holland whined at the oversensitivity of Jackson’s hard cock knocking against his spent one.
“Shit Hol’,” Healy continued to rut against him at a fast pace, he felt the legs that were over his back uncross and spread wider, Holland was probably trying to move his softening dick away from where it was stuck but Jackson grabbed hold of the thigh that wasn’t pressed against the back of the sofa and pushed it down, spreading his legs further apart.
“Jack!” Holland shouted when Healy moved his hips slightly lower, rutting all against his crotch.
“Shit,” Healy let out a moan when his orgasm washed over him, ropes of cum landing all over where their skin was touching, becoming mixed in with all the other mess by Healy’s final thrusts.
It felt like Healy had whitened out because it took him a moment to realize that Holland was softly running his hands over his back.
“You good?” March asked
“Yeah,” Healy grumbled out
“Great, now can you move, I need to check my dick,”
“Huh?” Healy shifted over slightly to let March slip a hand down between them, he grimaced when he touched the sticky mess.
“Oh good, you didn’t hump my dick off,” March said as he wiped the mess on his hand on Healy’s chest.
“Shit sorry, you okay?”
“Yeah I’ll be fine,” Holland waved him off. “I desperately need a shower though,”
Healy climbed off him and helped him to his feet, he kept a hold of his hand as they went down the hall, passing Healy’s bedroom and to March’s ensuite instead.
Healy had been the one to pick Holly up from school later that day and as soon as she saw Holland she noticed his hand straight away. She pulled away from their hug and grabbed his hand.
“Ouch!”
“You have to be gentle with your dad,” Healy said
“What happened? Did you punch someone?” her eyes lit up
“Yeah I did,” There wasn’t any reason to lie to her.
“What did the other guy do? Were you in a fight,”
“It wasn’t a fight, it was today's client,”
“He's not our client anymore,” Healy reminded
“Right,” March nodded, “He was being homophobic so I punched him,”
“Oh, well that's good,” Holly hugged him again. “I’m glad you stood up for yourself,”
“Hang on, why do you assume it was directed at me?”
“Really dad? You and Healy aren't subtle,” she said and looked at both of them.
“Wha- we weren't- until… hmm,”
“You're not together?” Holly questioned
“We are… now,”
“Took you long enough,” she rolled her eyes then wandered into the kitchen for a snack. “Trust me, you two were so obvious.”
March looked at Healy in stunned silence, the other just shrugged.
“She's got a point.” Healy agreed.