Buddy Cop

Two month's had passed since the operation was set into motion. Michael had gone undercover, used sex to get close to Bajeen, and was now his personal whore, whom Bajeen trusted with his life. But, the same act that would led to the eventual arrest of the man Brian hated so much, he couldn't help but let keep him up at night, seething over thoughts of Michael being forced to take the man. Over the course of the past two month's, he and Michael would have secret meetings to discuss Michael's findings, any hard information that could help the police and Brian had grown a bit closer to Michael, finding the boy to be charming and pretty funny when he wanted to be. He wasn't one of the meat head cops, or old and bored detectives, he carried a sugary, hyperactive energy, and while it annoyed the piss out of Brian at first, he now found it pretty damn refreshing.

So the thought of Bajeen fucking Michael made Brian physically sick.

During one of their meetings, Brian couldn't hold himself back and asked Michael how it was, to which he responded "It's just work." Every time Brian thought about it, he thought about the deal he and Michael had made. The boy was fucking gorgeous, the type most would have to work to get, and yet he willingly threw himself at Brian, even if Brian claimed to be straight. When not working the case and trying to keep Michael alive, Brian found himself giving a lot of thought about his marriage.

His wife, Cynthia, bless her, was very beautiful. But lazy. She had no job, and Brian realized just a year after marrying her that it was never going to work. So he let Marco, the tanned surfer whose only job was cleaning pools, take care of her. But, he needed to be taken care of too. A twenty eight year old man had needs. Michael's words were still in his head "maybe the touch of a man would refresh you."

Maybe it would.

The elevator opened with a chime. Brian shook his thoughts from his head and followed the two other men who had escorted him to the elevator down the flickering hallway of cheap lights. Pink and white made sweet love on the walls of the hallway, and blood red hearts added nauseous threesomes to the bright colors. It was an odd location to do a drug deal; a love hotel of all places.

The two men opened the door furthest down the hall. Brian followed them, and slipped into the room, where the man he'd wanted to meet for so many years now sat on the heart shaped, pink bed, legs spread and a brunette whose hair was stylishly messy, draped around him from behind. Rick Bajeen, and his personal whore Justin Hopkins; or rather, Brian's partner Michael Langston.

"If you need anything, sir, I'll be outside." The guard beckoned before shutting the door behind Brian, effectively sealing the detective in.

"Mr. James Strong, I presume?" His voice was nasally, high pitched. His eyes, racooned from years of drug abuse, stared arrogantly at Brian, as though the bastard presumed to know everything.

Hiding the disgust from his face, Brian responded. "Yes, my name is James Strong. I'll be acting as a go between between you and the buyer." He adjusted his tie, pretending to be intimidated by the pasty man.

"I see...well that's certainly not uncommon. Allow me to ask, can I get you anything, first?"

"No thanks, being strip searched was enough of a courteousy." He'd been stripped, and thoroughly examined by Bajeen's men, whom Brian was sure were as gay as he was, as they "innocently" rubbed his hard belly, and spread his legs to search for bugs hidden in his ass. He put up with it, though. Michael had done that and more the last couple of months.

"Would have liked to see that." Michael cooed, earning a sharp glare from Brian.

"Now, now, Justin. You know the guests don't like it when you flirt."

"Aww..." Michael pouted, Brian holding back the heat in his body as the urge to nibble the plush, outstuck lip washed over him. "But, I just can't help myself with the hotter ones."

Since the conversation had obviously veered off course, Brian decided to remind the two of their business. "Mr. Bajeen. My employers are very important men. So, they couldn't be caught dead walking around in a cheesy love hotel like this."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand..." Bajeen growled, his hand now tenderly stroking Michael's bottom. "So, let's just get down to business. My baby here is horny. How much product do you want?"

"20 pounds."

Bajeen whistled. "That's a lot of stuff."

"I'm willing to pay big bucks. Would fifty thousand cover the cost, along with your complete silence."

"My boy, you don't have to pay for silence. All my customer's are completely privacy protected, free of charge." Who did the bastard think he was? A shrink? Brian had never spoken with Bajeen before, but this face to face gave him a sickeningly clear view of the drug dealer. He had a god complex, and thought he was above even doctors with the money he made. Fancied himself to know everything. Brian would just wait patiently to wipe that smug ass smile off his face.

"So, do we have a deal?"

"I'll give it some thought. You gave your cell phone number to my boys, yes? Then I'll contact you in a couple of days and arrange another meeting. Until then."

"Until then, Mr. Bajeen." And he couldn't get out of there soon enough. He nodded to the guards outside the door, and headed for the elevator. Down again. Things were just too confusing for the inherently simple Brian. This was a job. A damn important one too. A lot of people would be able to sleep much easier in their own beds when Bajeen was getting butt fucked in prison. Not to mention the family of Ethan Woods, the poor police officer who was killed for no other reason than doing his job. Brian often wondered if that would be how he met his unfortunate demise, struck down by a disgruntled criminal he arrested.

The familiar chime, the elevator roaring as it opened, and Brian hurried from the hotel which swarmed with Bajeen's men in a manner not unlike wasps in a nest. Across the parking lot, at the far end where he had purposely parked, shuffling in his pocket for keys while he walked. He pressed the electronic lock release, making it to his pitch black Porsche, the one thing he had ever splurged on, and opened the door, when a familiar voice sang like a midnight melody behind him.

"I have never seen your car before. Niiiice."

Brian spun around, Michael's face bright with a smile that made the full moon hanging high in the black curtain of the sky pale in comparison. "Mic---Justin, what are you doing here?"

"Bajeen told me to follow you, hit you up for information. I wasn't followed, so this is as good a time as any to do a little report. But...you know..." Michael closed the distance between himself and Brian, pressing his own limber body to Brian's hard frame, smothering any air between their heated forms. "He did tell me to use any means necessary." Michael purred, his lips a mere whisper away from Brian's.

"Get real." Brian pushed Michael away. Not because he hated the contact, but because he actually enjoyed it. As his hands placed on Michael's stomach and pushed the smaller man away, he noted a wince strike Michael's face.

"What was that?" Brian questioned.

"What was what?"

' "You looked like that hurt you. Raise up your shirt." More of a command than anything, Brian knowing his detective voice was slipping through. But, he was concerned, and the worst possible thought settled into his mind.

"I'm fine, Brian. Seriously." Michael's chipper voice almost cracked as he backed away from Brian.

"No, you're not." Before the limber boy could pull any further away, Brian snatched the hem of his shirt and yanked it up, the smooth, tanned muscle of his belly exposed to Brian's hazel eyes. It was nice, but it wasn't where Brian's eyes went. On one of Michael's david lines that traced down to his groin, there was a nasty, purple blemish on his otherwise flawless golden skin.

Snatching the shirt down, Michael backed away from Brian, whose predatory eyes were making him uncomfortable.

"Bajeen did that to you." Brian growled.

"It's fine, Brian. Occupational hazard, that's all."

Anger swelled deep within Brian. So much so that, that he began to wonder how well he would do if he went back to the crappy hotel, beat the literal shit out of Bajeen, and then tried to get away before the guards would take notice. "Has he hit you before?"

"Don't worry about it! I've taken a lot worse than this before." Michael defended.

"What the hell does that mean?"

Michael took in a shakey breath. "I don't guess a straight guy like you has ever been bashed."

"Bashed?"

"Yeah, it what they call it when a bunch of asshole bible thumpers have to feel like men, so they gang up on a gay guy and beat the shit out of him."

"And, that's happened to you?"

"Yes, it has. I was eighteen, first year in college. There were eight guys, I tried my best to fight them off, but any one of them was twice my size."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. A young, rookie cop came to my aid. Ran off the bashers, and personally escorted me to the hospital where he waited until I was conscious."

"Who was he?"

"He was the man I fell in love with. The man I swore I'd have one day, and let him know I was grateful to him, every day of my life, that he saved." As he spoke, Michael's face lightened, genuine emotions shimmering in his bright blue eyes, as they always did.

"You said he was a cop, is he anyone I know?"

Michael's eyes now glazed with confusion as he stared at Brian for a long moment, before finally throwing his head back in laughter. "You're really dumb, you know that."

"W-What's that mean?" Brian became uncharacteristically flustered, which only served to add to Michael's amusement.

His laughter dying down, Michael waved Brian away. "Just forget it. Maybe when you're a better detective, you'll figure it out. I need to get back, anyway. I've had long enough to interrogate you." Before Brian could press the issue further, Michael was gone, back on his way to the hotel.

Michael's mocking laughter ringing in his ears, Brian climbed into his car and started it, the screech of his porsche starting up seeming like more laughter in his ears. "Maybe when you're a better detective, you'll figure it out." What the hell did that mean? He started his long drive home, trying to think what Michael meant.

Bashers, the lowest scum of the earth in Brian's opinion. They moved in flocks, because with just a single man there was a chance they could be overpowered. No, bashers couldn't let a "fairy" overpower them. So they moved in groups to ensure that the victim would be completely powerless. Brian had taken out quite a few in his years on the force, always enjoying how the victims pleaded to not be taken to jail. It was pleasing. One case in particular had been brutal. College student out drinking with his friends, horribly beaten and barely left alive. So bad so, that Brian had taken the college student to the hospital himself, the poor boy clinging desperately to him, and weeping uncontrollably.

Wait.

He had been horribly bruised, and Brian never caught the boy's name, but the more he thought about it, the more the two images lined up. Michael was the boy he'd saved that night. He'd been a rookie, out on patrol one night while his partner was off drinking somewhere. Came across a mob huddled around a boy, kicking and punching. He ran them off, a gun tended to hold stock over numbers. He was bleeding, bruised, both distorting his face. But, when he was cleaned up at the hospital, though still bruised, Brian had a much clear view of his face. And it had been Michael.

He was the one Michael was in love with. Brian's racing heart jumped in his chest, momentarily forgetting he was even driving. When did work become so complicated? Just two month's ago this boy was just another arrogant brat given to Brian to baby sit until he cracked under the pressure of the job. Now, he was an arrogant brat that was in love with Brian. Work sucked. Screw going home, the bar was calling his name. His wife could save her verbal castration for another day.

Weeks passed quickly, Brian having lost contact with Michael after the night Brian met Bajeen. He was getting worried. Since when did that brat neglect his weekly contact? Was he hurt? This was exactly why Brian never liked the idea of having a partner. He got worried, and when he got worried he either yelled or drank heavily. He couldn't drink because he was on duty, and he couldn't yell because his office was the size of a broom closet, and everyone outside would hear him. So, he resided himself to quietly tap his desk with a pencil, wait for the phone to ring, and bite the head off anyone who was foolish enough to step into his office.

The phone rang, Brian scrambling to answer.

"Hello?"

"Brian, it's me." Michael's voice was creepily solemn.

"Michael! Where the hell are you!? Why haven't you called?"

"I've been...a little busy. The deal's going down tonight. Can you make it?"

Yeah, yeah. Hey, you alright? That bastard hit you again?"

"Don't worry about me. Just make sure you strap a wire on."

"Where's the deal going down?"

"The Love Shack, same place as last time. At sundown. Don't be late."

"Michael, hey, why haven't you---" Brian was shut up by a dull beeping. "Shit..." Michael had hung up the phone.He was irritated, but grateful that it may very well be the night when Bajeen was put behind bars for good. Still, eight years being a cop made a man paranoid. Something didn't feel right, Michael told him to wear a wire, which was always a huge risk, he had neglected to check in the past two weeks, and seemed oddly disturbed on the phone. Usually he always seemed chipper, and acted as though just talking to Brian had made his day.

Still, he had to trust Michael to some degree. Even if he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

After taking the wire he hid in the drawer of his desk, and strapping it under his shirt, Brian pulled on his coat and rushed out of his office, informing a few officers to follow him at a safe distance. Once inside his Porsche, he took a shaky breath. He reminded himself that everything would be fine, though he knew it seemed sad he had to remind himself of that.

The drive was a particularly long one, Brian continuing to look over his shoulder to see if the black Impala that was the vehicle the undercover cops were driving, remained at a safe distance. They were, Brian giving them the credit of him being able to know they were there, because he knew they were following him.

Pink neon lights guided Brian like a beacon, as he finally pulled into the parking lot, taking a moment to watch the black impala shut it's engine off a good five blocks away from the hotel. Good call. He stepped out of the car, greeted by his stern faced partner as he approached the entrance of the hotel.

"Mr. Justin." He had tp keep it formal.

"Mr. Strong. Please, follow me." Giving his back to Brian, Michael led Brian into the hotel, though while Brian went for elevator, Michael turned toward the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Please, come with me to the bathroom." Brian was frightened. Michael's eyes weren't playful as they normally were. Stern, glassy. Not Michael at all. He wondered if he had pissed his partner off by not remembering who he was. Michael wouldn't let that interfere with his work though. Would he?

He followed Michael to the bathroom, where a bag lay next to the surprisingly clean sink. Michael took the bag and thrust it into Brian's hand. "There are clothes in there. Change."

"What? Mi---"

"It's Justin."

"Sorry. Justin. These clothes are special."

"Yeah, that's a nice Armani coat. I'll take care of it. Now change."

Something was wrong. But he couldn't back out now. He'd never get away. He went into the bathroom, changing out of his Armani jacket that he'd blew three paychecks on, and stripped out of his pants, and into the hideously plaid button up shirt, and beige chords that clung to tightly to his hips. He watched the black wire dangling as confused as he was as he thrust it into the plastic bag. He left the stall, shoving the bag into Michael's hands and shooting him a glare.

"If you're up to something..."

"Just wait outside. I need to use the bathroom. I'll escort you in a moment." The mischief in his eyes was back. Brian abruptly understood he'd misread the entire situation.

"Alright, just make it quick. I'm a very busy man."

"Of course."

Brian left the bathroom, and leaned his body against the pink wall outside of the bathroom. A superficial flush, and Michael wandered out. Brian chose his moves carefully, taking slow strides behind Michael as he was led to the elevator, to the top floor. The mood was far too tense, and Brian was reminded of his previous partner, where the mood always seemed so dense and boring. As the elevator announced their arrival at the top floor with a bell chime, Brian again stayed at Michael's back as he was led down that hall to the same room he had been in before. The pink and white made him as sick as it had the last time. How could anyone have an orgasm in such a place?

Into the same room as he had been last time, with Bajeen sitting on the heart-shaped bed, exactly as he had been the last time. With one major difference: namely the gun Bajeen had deadlocked on Brian's head.

"Mr. Bajeen!" Brian half-barked, half-panicked. "What is this?"

"Shut the door, Justin."

With a harsh push to Brian's back, thrusting the man fully into the room, Michael shut the door behind him, and circled around to Bajeen, taking his place at the dealer's side.

"I'm sorry, Justin. I meant to call you, Michael."

Sweat beaded on Brian's skin, his hazel eyes widening as his blood went ice cold. This was wrong, this was all wrong. He knew Michael's real name, and Michael was still at his side. That meant dirty cop. No, Michael couldn't be a dirty cop. Had Michael not put the wire on in the bathroom? Brian, greatest detective in the city, was trumped and fooled so easily. And no longer knew what was going on any more.

"And you, Detective Brian Storms...." Storms? His last name was Weatherly.

Realization again sunk in, and he looked to Michael who was wearing an arrogant smile on his face. "Sorry, Brian..." He spoke, his voice sweet and melodious. It was to sound smug in Bajeen's victory, but was only adding to the smokescreen. "I told Ricky everything. About you, about me. Let's face it, being a detective is shitty pay. Ricky can give me everything I want."

"Traitorous bastard!" Brian hissed. He had to make this real.

"Yes...he's a beautiful little thing isn't he, Brian? Have you ever touched him?"

"No."

"He responds very well." Bajeen taunted. "But, it's too late for that now." From his side on the bed, he passed a needle to Michael. "Prove this isn't a game to me, Michael. Prove that you love me like you said."

"And what is that?"

"That is enough heroin to put down a wild bull. You're gonna be another dirty cop to overdose. No one will miss you."

Michael stepped forward. Brian found himself stumped yet again. How did Michael plan on playing this out? If he had the wire strapped on, it would be feeding to the cops outside waiting for the right signal to swarm. But, if he didn't inject Brian with the heroin, Bajeen would turn the gun on him and blow his brains out, and Brian's too, before either even had time to think.

Michael mouthed something. Brian watched closely, Michael wordlessly saying the word "Ethan" while his back kept him from Bajeen's eyesight.

"Since I'm going to die, just tell me one thing Bajeen..." Bajeen was an arrogant son of a bitch, he would oblige. "Did you kill Ethan Woods?"

"Who?"

"A cop who arrested one of your men some time ago."

"Ooooh, yes, I remember him now. He cried while I slowly cut through his neck."

Michael stopped halfway. He was in reaching distance of either Brian, or Bajeen. Crunch time. Brian watched his lips curl into a smile, as he gripped the needle like a dagger. "Is that so, Mr. Bajeen?"

"Michael?" Bajeen's panic appeared in his voice.

"In that case..." With speed that surprised even Brian, Michael spun his body around and plunged the needle into Bajeen's shoulder. Bajeen shrieked with pain, as Michael quickly put his thumb on the plunger as Bajeen tried to aim the gun at Brian.

"I wouldn't!!" Michael barked. "You make any move but dropping that gun, I'll inject you with this heroin. I imagine it'll be a very nasty death." To sell his point, he pressed the plunger, a bit of the heroin seeping into Bajeen's body.

"Okay, okay! I'll drop it..." With a thunk, the gun was dropped to the ground, where Michael kicked it to Brian. He took it with great gratitude.

"Rick Bajeen, you're under arrest for the murder of Deputy Ethan Woods, and multiple counts of possession."

"Don't forget being a lousy fuck...." Michael uttered.

That one struck a sour nerve, Bajeen's face frozen in a phase between snarl and grin. "You two aren't getting away with this. My boys will gun you down before you make it out of here."

"Yeah, that's not likely..." Michael hummed, lifting his shirt and exposing the wire he'd taken from Brian. "Cops outside have heard everything, probably started swarming the place once we declared you were under arrest. They're taking down your boys quietly, and are making there way up to this floor as we speak."

"Then I'll scream! The guys on this floor will come and take you both down."

"Well, I locked the door, so that'll give us some time to get away, but..." Michael shook the needle maliciously, Bajeen wincing in pain. "I'll inject your small-dicked ass full of heroin and kill you before we escape. Maybe we'll get away, maybe we won't. You definitely won't. And I get the feeling you value your life too damn much to sign yourself to a definite death sentence."

"And don't forget this gun, I've got here." Brian waved Bajeen's lost weapon. "We have to, we can fight our way out."

After that, Bajeen settled into a routine of cursing, spitting, and threatening family members. Police officers stormed the room after what seemed to be an hour of waiting for the police to finally reach the top floor, where they stormed the room, arrested Bajeen and dragged him to the cop car. It was now just a matter of police officers patting each other on the back in the lobby of the hotel, all the hot shots from across the state arrived to take some kind of credit in the arrest. The arrest whose credit belonged soley to Michael. Brian never cared for ass kissing, so he changed back into his own clothes that were still in a bag in the bathroom, snuck a key from the front desk and slipped away to one of the rooms. He needed to be around until everything died down and the crime scene was accounted for, but he didn't have to be in the thick of rookie cops kissing the ass of the higher ups to try and get a promotion.

So, he was lying on the sickeningly pink heart shaped bed, a cigarette hanging on his lips and his head resting in a pillow of his own hands, eyes tracing the ceiling of the room.

The door he had left open gave a creak as someone entered the room, and a click as it was closed and automatically locked. Brian glanced toward the door, the bright sunshine smile of his partner greeting him.

"So, we put Bajeen behind bars!" His enthusiasm as sugary as ever.

"Yeah, why aren't you downstairs, kissin' ass and trying to get a promotion."

"More money, more problems. I would much rather be here. Isn't this the part in all the cop movies where the older, wiser partner takes the newbie out for a drink." Michael sat down on the bed.

"Ain't a movie, kid. But, there's something else to be taken care of. You wanna lay on top of me, or you want me to come to you?"

"Do what now?"

"Your kiss. You won the bet."

"O-Oh, that. I-I won't force you to do that if you don't want to. You're married and everything..."

"Huh, that's weird..." Brian plucked the cigarette from his mouth, blowing smoke to the ceiling.

"What's weird?"

"I thought you had a bigger pair than that. I took you as someone who went for what they wanted with no second guesses. Or maybe, you don't want me after all. Which I guess is fine, I'm six years older than you and..."

Brian was pleasantly surprised whenever Michael ceased his words by climbing on top of his body, spreading his muscular thighs and settling himself in between. His hands rested on Brian's strong chest and his lips brushed his own.

On raspy breath, Michael whispered. "I do want you. I want you really bad. But if the feeling isn't mutual..."

"This isn't about me. Kiss me. See what happens."

"See what happens, eh? I dunno....I might get naughty thoughts if we kiss."

"Like I said. See what happens." Brian grumbled. He stretched his arm to the nightstand, letting his cigarette burn to embers on the ash tray. He was more interested in the smoldering blue eyes bearing down on him, the heat radiating from Michael's body.

And a shiver shot through his body. Brian Weatherly didn't shiver. Brian Weatherly never got nervous enough to shiver. But as the goosebumps littered his creamy skin and Michael's eyes burned to ash with desire, he only wanted to cut the anticipation, and cut the games. He wanted to take those pouty lips and bruise them, rape the younger boys mouth with his tongue. But it was Michael's game, Michael's reward. So, he would wait, wait for Michael to make his move.

And he did. Michael captured Brian's hot lips with his own, his fingers clutching Brian's shirt with vice-like strength. He pulled Brian's warm body closer to his own, tugging on his shirt in a futile attempt to pull their bodies closer together. With timid strokes, Michael ran his tongue over Brian's lips, asking them to part. Brian allowed Michael's tongue in, the brunette taking his time in exploring the hot cavern. Every inch mapped, before finally tickling Brian's own slippery muscle, coaxing Brian to play. Their tongues entwined, their body's burned each other, and Michael's world became sweet bliss as he lost himself inside of Brian's smoky mouth.

Air deprivation made a much needed break in their mouth's, the saliva trail from their kiss breaking and running down Brian's chin. Both panted, both burned with intense desire neither had felt before. Brian could feel Michael's erection pressing against his own, both hard. Both needed more.

"Fuck!" Michael exclaimed, burying his face into Brian's chest. "That was as better than I hoped."

"Not bad on my end..." Brian ran his hands down Michael's narrow back, to the perfectly rounded end where his hands made themselves comfortable, and his intent made known to Michael. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What're you sorry for, that was the closest I've ever been to coming just from a kiss."

"I mean for forgetting about you." Michael rose his head from Brian's chest. "I've worked a lot of cases since I rescued you a few years ago. So, I'm sorry. And, I'm glad to see you've turned out alright."

"If you're sorry...then make it up to me." Michael kissed Brian's lips, quick and chaste, but full of meaning. "I've jacked off to you god knows how many times....I became a detective, just to see you again."

"That your only reason?"

"No, I'm all about the justice too."

"You're a piece of work." Brian clutched the short black locks of Michael's hair and bruised his lips with a hungry kiss. Michael's hands wasted no time in going to work, he raised his body just enough to tear open Brian's shirt open, hands desperately groping the hard flesh underneath, stroking the solid muscles with much eager tenacity. Their mouth's broke, their tongues staying twined, neither done playing. After they did break, Michael's mouth hungrily moved to Brian's neck, kissing and biting, not bothering to be mindful of hickeys. He wanted the world to know of his work. To know he'd gotten what he wanted.

"Shit..." Brian moaned, his large hand trying to pull Michael's head deeper into his neck, skilled teeth biting all the right spots, bolts of electricity coursing through his body. Volcanic lust poured through his body, cooled only by beads of sweat collecting on his soft skin. Michael lifted Brian's body, the larger man shrugging off his jacket and shirt, his body heaving with breathless abandon.

"Fuck....All I've seen is pasty white ass the last two month's. I need this..." Michael raked his hands over Brian's hard muscled body, kissing and biting a wet trail down. Sweet sounds of Brian's strong voice moaning with each kiss, with each bite were all the encouragement he needed. He could reach completion from those sounds alone. So wonderful.

"Michael...." Another sweet moan. Michael relished each inch of hairless, perfect body, down to the slacks he wore, where Michael opened the belt.

He was ready to see what he wanted for so long, but he couldn't rush things. "Brian...are you...are you sure you want to do this."

"Don't get indecisive on me now." To take his own initiative, Brian reached down and tugged his own slacks down, his large member straining through the thin fabric of his boxers.

All of the burning heat in Michael's body collected in his cheeks as he lay eyes on Brian's cock. He was huge. His cock, throbbing in the tight boxers, was easily the biggest Michael had ever seen. Enough to make him blush, and make his mouth water.

"Damn..." His weak whimper as he tugged the boxers down, Brian's member standing at full attention. "You know, straight guys don't get this hard with another guy." Michael gripped the base and gave the angry head a test lick. His mouth flooded.

"Maybe I'm not straight."

"Your wife will be pissed."

"She'll always have the pool boy."

Suppressing a fit of giggles that might kill the mood, Michael looked back down at his trophy. He gave the head a few flicks of his tongue, before wrapping his lips around it and taking it into his mouth. The pre-ejaculate pooled on his tongue, the salty essence trickling down Michael's throat as he flicked his tongue around the head, paying attention to the underside which drew deep moans from his lover.

Lashing the head with his tongue, carefully going downward on the large sex, Michael hummed happy tunes in his head as his mouth filled and stretched with Brian's need. This was all he wanted, all he needed in the world. This single moment, Brian at his mercy. He brushed the thoughts aside, they were for another time. He focused on the cock throbbing in his mouth, constricting his throat muscles around the head and sucking deep. Brian let out a sharp moan, his hands clutching Michael's head almost violently as he gave restrained thrusts into the swirling wetness. Michael raked his hands down Brian's body, giving the older man his best work, as he began to bob his head up and down the hot length, licks, sucks and strokes with his hand.

"F-Fuck! Michael!" Brian cried out. His name, not his wife, not someone else. His name. He came in thick spurts that splashed in creamy ribbons down Michael's throat. He swallowed each drop greedily. No one else could have any. He was a spoiled child, and he wasn't about to change.

Completely swallowed, Michael lifted off Brian, whose erection stayed hard, and licked back up to Brian's mouth, where he fluttered kisses along his strong jawline. "You really...came a lot." He purred. "Your wife ever suck your dick?"

"Once a year. She says she doesn't like to suck dick."

"She's fuckin' crazy."

"Let's not talk about her. What next."

"Well, I get naked and then you put your big cock in me. And you can skip the foreplay, I'm really horny."

"Nah, I wanna take my time with this." Brian flipped Michael down to the pink covers of the bed, hovering menacingly over his smaller framed lover. "So deal with it."

"I'm not complaining." Their lips met again, sloppy, with their tongues entwined, Brian clutching the hem of Michael's t-shirt and dragging it over his head. Brian broke the kiss, and stared down at the golden expanse of skin, the bruise having long since healed. The hard muscles of his abdomen, the slender tone of his arms, and the tight chest. It was the body of a male, but there was a feminine beauty to it, no muscle over exaggerated.

Brian began to grope the hard muscles of Michael's chest. "W-What're you doing?" He squeaked.

"You don't have any boobs."

"Well, excuse me. I could stop hitting the gym...."

"No, it's just. Different. And, better." Brian descended, taking a cherry colored nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue across the hardened bud as he tweaked it's twin between his fingers. Purrs, moans, and whimpers all spilled from Michael's mouth as Brian licked a wet trail down to his navel, hands guiding over the hollows his tight body. At the navel, which Brian gave an affectionate kiss, he followed the groomed trail of black hairs that vanished down to the waist band of his jeans, which soon joined his own clothes on the floor, the boxers following, leaving only Micheal, erection standing tall and his body quivering with need.

Brian's breath hitched in his throat, he gazed down at the sweating, quivering mass beneath him, smoldering eyes burning holes in Brian's body. He grasped Micheal's jerking erection, giving it a few tugs as he bent his body to again capture Michael's lips, who ate into it hungrily, his body arching, giving Brian access to his inner portal.

"Don't we need oil or something?" Brian asked as their kiss broke.

"You mean lube. You really are dumb..."

"Stop calling me dumb..." Brian almost pouted. Michael stole a quick kiss from his pouting lips.

"It's a love hotel, babe. Check the night stand."

Regretfully tearing himself away from Michael's body, Brian leaned to the night stand, his cigarette having long since burned out, and opened the drawer. Sex jelly, condom's, cock rings, everything necessary for an erotic night out.

"You want me to wear a condom?"

"No, bareback it."

"Alright." Brian just took the sex jelly, and lifted Michael's legs over his head. He drizzled the slick gel over his fingers, and pressed one finger into Michael's rose bud ass, intrigued by the velvety heat. "So, how do I make this good for you."

"Just being with you is good..." The disappointed look in Brian's eyes. It wasn't the answer he had wanted. "But, push your finger all the way in."

"Okay..." Brian buried his finger inside of the heat.

"Now curl it."

As the finger probing his most secret depth's curled, it hit his prostate, the small bead rolling under Brian's finger. White heat coursed through Michael's vein's, his back arching, and the most leud of moans escaping his lips.

The moan, so sweet to Brian, encouraged more. He squeezed the spot again, adding a second finger to his assasult. He scissored his insides, stretched him, until Michael was left panting and without any ablility to form a coherent word. Done teasing and stretching, Brian applied a wet shine of sex gel to his jerking erection, and pressed it to Michael's entrance. Michael smiled at him, wrapped his arms around his back as Brian buried himself deep inside of the squelching heat. A myriad of feelings coursed through him, feelings of heat, lust, but mostly completion. It felt right to be in him.

"How is it?"

"Good...but you're really big...so kinda take it slow."

"Yeah." Brian easily pulled his cock out, raising his hips until the tip of his need was throbbing on the rim of Michael's ass. And then he sank back in, Michael letting out a guttural moan as his finger nails clawed Brian's back. He repeated, with the same response. The feel of hot velvet around his cock made his eyes go white. Brian repeated, each time increasing his pace. With each thrust, both moaned, Michael crooning his body up to litter Brian's face with kisses, and add more hickeys to Brian's neck.

"Faster, Brian. God, please faster."

Brian increased his pace, until he was lost in rapid thrusting. Michael lost his grip, falling back against the bed and instead clawing the sheets of the bed as Brian pushed deep into him, each thrust filling Michael with the entire length of his large cock. Michael cried his name again and again. Brian ran kisses up the hairless leg in his hand, licking it, as his other hand allowed the leg to fall at his waist, and focused on stroking Michael's need.

"Brian...I-I'm gonna come!" Michael cried out.

"I'm close too."

"C-Come in closer..." Hearing Micheal's cry, Brian leaned down, never ceasing his thrusts into Michael's needy body. Michael captured Brian's lips, his tongue thrusting deep into Brian's panting mouth. With their ends joined together so perfectly, Michael came, thick ropes splashing between his and Brian's hard stomach's. His body quivered, convulsed, and clenched around Brian's cock, bringing the older detective to his orgasm.

Pushing a few post-orgasm humps into Brian, their lips still meshed together and their tongues caught in battle, their energy apexed, and the two fell back, recovering from the intensity of it all.

"B-Brian..." Michael breathed, petting Brian's dirty blond locks.

"That was pretty fucking good...." Brian purred, kissing Micheal's golden skin. "They're probably looking for us. They've gotta be done by now."

"Let'em look. I'm too comfy to get up."

"Yeah, me too."

"Well...actually...My place is near here. If you want...you know...if you've got nothing to do..." Michael blushed as he lay himself out. "You could come back to my place. Watch a few movies....or fuck the rest of the night."

"Sounds good, I'll drive."


*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~*~*~*

TBC!

The Bajeen case went a little faster than I wanted, but if I had dragged it out, the first sex scene would have been between Bajeen and Michael. Didn't really want to have my first love scene between those two, so I shortened it. The next case they work will be a lot longer (I'm thinkin of throwing in some murder mystery elements) and of course some raw smut to liven it all up. This isn't the end folks! Reviews and ratings are always appreciated, and you can drop me an email at lawlessliet@gmail.com with any thoughts or suggestions you might have.