moonyinthesky replied to your post: “I just wanted to say that I love your agent verse, and I hope that there is more to come! I also wanted to ask if you would be up for a Seguin/Benn version of the agent verse. Ever since I read the agent fics, I can’t get the idea out of my head! I can understand if you don’t want to, but I still think it would be super amazing! Thanks!”:benny’s the quiet guy around the office, but always gets sent out ondercover as a thug; segs is v. confused until he’s finally sent undercover with him and there’s jamie with his slicked hair and previously-hidden tattoos and segs is just sort of O_O
Tyler carefully closes the door of his car, guiding the handle until the lock clicks with the quietest possible sound he can manage. Then, he checks his gun, set in a hostler across his chest that’s concealed by a grungy old vest he’d picked up at Goodwill, undoes another button in his shirt so his chain necklace shows, and rolls up his sleeves to reveal more of his sweet tattoos—permanent but expensed on the government’s dime for the purpose of this mission—and rounds the corner to meet the partner he’s been assigned for this massive bust on the market in illegally obtained luxury car parts.
For a few seconds, he thinks the guy is a stranger. Whoever it is, he’s gorgeous, wearing dark skinny jeans and scuffed Keds, with slick hair that’s been combed straight backwards, making a sleek poof. The guy is wearing a greasy wife-beater; one that shows off his entire inked sleeve, not just a taste, like Tyler has. He’s sinfully good-looking; enough so that Tyler starts worry about the mission, and how distracted he may find himself.
Segs is actually stepping forward, hand outstretched, when the guy looks up and sees him, smiling in greeting. His smile splits his face, giving way to massive dimples. And those fucking dimples are unmistakable—Segs sees them every single time he walks into the Dallas office and Jaime Benn looks up to greet him. Quiet, shy, nicer than a Boston Cream Pie, Jaime Benn.
This dark, rebellious, perfect picture of a carjacker, who’s somehow exactly Tyler’s type, is Jaime Benn. Jaime, who always brings coffee over to Tyler’s desk when Tyler works late. Jaime, who never fails to ask him about a mission or to gently nudge him in the direction of the infirmary. Jaime, who, stutteringly asked Tyler out to dinner six months ago; to whom Tyler fucking answered, “Sorry Benny, but I think I’d ruin you.” Jaime, who Tyler so, so stupidly turned down, like an asshole, because he’d thought he could find someone better.