The Jigsaw

Hello :)
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Sometimes Things Work

Casey was enraged. He thought he’d had enough of all this bullshit.

This way or another—that's what it should look like. And he hated himself for not being able to choose. He tossed a virtual coin between two options: letting Sam go or fighting for...well, something. Why the fuck couldn't he get free of that strange charm Sam had?

"Damn! Fuck!" he shouted pounding his fist against the wall to vent his frustration. He needed to get tired, beaten up...whatever. He wanted to get purely physical and stop thinking. "I hate you, you cocksucker!" It's your fucking fault....

And then he decided. I'll give you a taste, you bastard. Let's see what you keep hidden inside. And who I am for this pathetic you!

He opened the wardrobe in the sleeping room and scanned the contents, trying to choose the sexiest things he had. He'd never tried to make himself into eye-candy for others' eyes, but now he needed to. This'll do, he thought, taking out a pair of black leather trousers Monroe had bought for him as a joke, a black shirt with short sleeves and a collarband, and black cycling boots. He put everything on, tied his long hair back in a knot and looked at his reflection in the big mirror.

"Oh, shit—that looks awfully gay!" He chuckled, a bit disgusted, but he didn't give up. He shrugged his shoulders, reached for the leather jacket that complimented his outfit, and left the room, launching his cell browser to search for the biggest gay club in the area. "Morocco it is, then," he said to himself, the search completed, and he headed to the disco.

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"Sarah?" Ryan's voice in the receiver sounded excited at her short "Hi".

"And who could that be?" she jibed, smiling unconsciously. Hearing the man was a poor substitute for normalcy, but refreshing.

"I found something!" Her old friend was eager to share his discovery with her.

"Yeah? Go ahead."

"At first I looked into the files. I thought it was strange that LaVay escaped after the theatre thing. Why would you do that if you were a hero, huh?"

"That isstrange. What else?"

"He really was your father's partner. They worked together for five years. How come you didn't know about that? Didn't he ever say anything at home?"

"We didn't live together. Leave it alone. What else?" She shot him down.

"Okay." Ryan felt a little offended. "Ramson was their supervisor."

"That's interesting."

"And I found information that, um, well...." For a moment he paused, trying to decide on the best way to convey the news. "Your father had been charged for money laundering."

"What?" Ryan could hear shock in Sarah's voice.

"Well, he was charged, then cleared by Ramson. It seems that Ramson valued him as a cop, so he helped him out."

"You mean my father was set up?"

"Um, not really." Ryan sounded hesitant.

"So what do you mean?" She almost shouted, angry at him.

"I mean he could be guilty. They didn't find any proof. But he didn't have a good alibis, either. So the investigation was closed, thanks to Ramson's testimony and vote of confidence."

"I...." She stumbled. "I don't...shit. That’s impossible!"

"That's all I can tell you. I don't have any way to find out the truth. It's out of my range. I'll keep searching, but...you know."

"Yeah, yeah." Sarah, deep in her own thoughts, wasn't listening to him. "We'll keep in touch. I have to do something. Bye." Not waiting for Ryan's answer, she hung up.

---

Ramson picked up the receiver.

"In my office. Now," he requested, and threw the receiver onto his desk. After a moment he picked it up again and pressed another combination of buttons.

"Report to me. How are the things working?"

Casey was startled. Not even one day earlier, he’d already sent his short report to Ramson.

"I—I sent it yesterday."

"Yeah, I know. I need an update. Anything new?"

"Not really. He went to Simon's foster family. Then he got pissed off, which isn’t unusual, right?"

"I have a small job for you, then."

"Didn't you send me here to rest?"

"It's not a big deal, Casey." Ramson wasn't used to getting no for an answer. "I need you to talk with Sam."

Casey cut in. "That’s not an option. Not in the near future, at least."

"Oh, silent days?" Ramson jibed, but without a smile. "I don't care. I need you to talk to him as soon as possible. I...." He hesitated. His request seemed too personal now, but he had to know. "Ask him what he's up to."

"And what exactly do you mean?"

"Just what I said. I want to know his plans, as the situation in our group has changed a lot lately."

"Oh? It must have slipped my notice." Casey allowed himself an ironic joke.

Ramson kept silent for a while, finally deciding not to take up the challenge. "Talk to you soon, then," he said drily, and he disconnected.

He was angry. When Thera opened the door, Ramson snapped at him immediately, "Pack your things. You're going to Phoenix. That's where my last contact from Simon was from. Find Sarah for me, if she's still alive. And find George Kaminsky, alias Luc LaVay. Everything is in here." He handed Thera a black suitcase to. "Tell Linda she's going with you. Tomorrow. Dismissed."

"No questions allowed?" Thera asked, raising his eyebrow.

"All answers are inside. We'll keep in touch, of course." Ramson waved his hand, and the meaning was clear: Get out.

---

Casey stepped over the threshold and fell into the sweaty, hot, testosterone-filled ambience of the Morocco world. God, the air was so dense, and all those glimpses and smiles so intense. It had been some time since Casey had been in a place like this. He wasn't a party animal like Sam. He felt out of place here, but he was determined to give all he had to this night. Secretly, he hoped Sam would care enough to check his GPS receiver—they both had them in their watches. And maybe...well, it was a lame expectation, but maybe Sam would even chase after him...? That was Casey’s fondest dream, one of those that rarely came true.

He took in the dancing crowd with his eyes and sighed, gathered up his courage, and dove in. Slowly he started to feel the beat, the hypnotic mix of music, sex, and excitement. Morocco sucked him in like a sweet sea of wine, honey, and oblivion. He stopped thinking, closed his eyes, and let the rhythm swing him, rock him, make his blood circulate faster and faster and faster....

Someone touched his hips. He turned his head and saw a man without a shirt, his torso glistening with sweat, his eyes hungry, his smile dripping desire. Casey restrained his impulse to knock the man down and hesitantly gave in, adjusting his dance to the movements of the other man's hips. It felt weird. Casey wasn't used to flirting with men, he had no experience of men wanting him, and he could hardly call it fun. But he wanted to try. He wanted to know what it was like to be gay and have sex with no commitments.

He let the man kiss him, although he felt like withdrawing and running. He opened his mouth and let the stranger's tongue slip inside. The kiss was...well, he'd describe it as nice, but something still didn't feel right. Casey thought it was just that it was hard to overcome rules that were so deeply carved into his mind.

"Fuck off." He heard a well-known voice behind his back. A strong feeling of relief came with it. Yet Casey turned and gave Sam, still wearing his white shirt, a challenging look.

"Would you keep your nose out of my business?" He made a wry face.

"I won’t," came the short answer. "Don't do something you're going to regret."

"Why? What do you care?" Casey’s smile was ironic.

"I don't. Just don't try to get any more fucked up than you already are."

"Why not? That’s exactly what you do," Casey started.

"That's right. I've been there. And that's why I say—don't."

They stood, measuring each other with fierce glares. The man who’d been kissing Casey was pushed by Sam's hand with a force that suggested he would be wise not to get between two dangerous elements.

"I wanna have fun. Get out of my way!" Casey decided to stay faithful to his crazy resolution.

Sam examined him with his only eye, the second one covered with a patch, and finally said coldly, "Go ahead, then. Have fun." He turned his back on Casey and grabbed the nearest guy by the shoulder. He pulled him close and sucked into the man's neck. The blond boy, sweet as candy, sighed with pleasure and bent agreeably, pressing his groin against Sam. The mating dance had begun.

Casey felt a familiar prick in his chest. His muscles tensed up, as they always did when he was jealous. He was aware of what he felt, and that enraged him even more. Fine! he thought, and he looked around for somebody who could serve as a distraction. The guy he had kissed before crossed looks with him, and Casey knew it was an open invitation. He clenched his fists and rushed forward to get what he thought he wanted: the man. But the truth was that he wanted...revenge. A way to get back at Sam, who was now totally occupied with the young boy.

The man he approached reached for Casey's head and pulled him into a kiss, grabbing his ass and squeezing it slightly. Casey shot a quick glance at Sam and felt both childish and surprised to find Sam staring back at him. His heart jumped and started to pump his blood faster. He smirked to show that he was the one controlling the game, then returned to kissing and fondling the stranger. But all he could think of was Sam—his hands, his lips, his body. Fuck, he was going to lose it.

And soon he did. He pushed the other guy away, mumbling, "Sorry, I have plans for tonight."

"Are you fucking with me?" The man was angry, which was absolutely understandable.

"Actually, I'm not." Casey gave him a warning look. "I’m calling it a night. Don't try to pressure me."

"Or what?" Casey could hear a challenge.

"Believe me, you don't wanna know. I'm pissed as hell. I'm just looking for a face I can beat to a pulp, and I'm pretty fucking good at it. Have I managed to convince you?" he muttered through his teeth.

The guy lost his confidence. "Fuck you," he hissed as he departed and disappeared in the crowd.

Casey turned around and rushed to the exit, not looking back. If he had, he would have met a black eye fixed on him and two strong hands dropping, letting the blond boy go. He would have seen the irritated face of someone fighting with his thoughts.

But Casey didn't look back. He was thinking only of going to the hotel and leaving this failure of a night behind him.

Once he reached the door of his temporary home he sighed in resignation. He’d been so stupid. He wanted to get back at Sam, but all he’d done was shoot himself in the foot.

He tore the band off his hair and took off his stinking clothes. He needed a shower. He needed the feeling of washing everything away, all the physical and mental dirt he had on him. He turned on the water and got under the warm stream. His body slowly relaxed and his mind started to work more or less properly.

He came to the conclusion that it had been completely idiotic to start a duel on unfamiliar ground. He couldn't win against a pro, could he? His hands went through his hair, then down along his neck and chest to his groin. He wasn't as calm yet as he wanted to be. Deep inside he was still confused, strangely disturbed...feeling weird. His body yearned for some kind of satisfaction despite the fact that his mind was just tired from sick excitement and all those events that had never been meant to occur. His imagination planted an image before his eyes of Sam seducing a young boy.

Shit, that was irritating.

His hands travelled to his member, encircling it. They started to pump it slowly, pull on it, twist and caress tenderly.

As through thick cotton he heard the bathroom door being opened. His brain knew it had to be Sam, but he didn't care. He didn't even open his eyes but kept working on his cock, which was growing big and stiff. He bit his lower lip, drew his brows together, and focused on his pleasure, the whole world fading out.

Sam stepped into the bathroom for...he didn't exactly know for what. It was an impulse, an internal imperative to invade Casey’s intimate space. He’d gone way too far in his strange game to withdraw now.

He was partially naked, his chest bared, his trousers undone and hanging loosely on his hips, a cigarette stuck in the corner of his lips. For a moment he watched Casey masturbating, then he smirked, satisfied with what he saw, and sat on a stool to observe the act. He liked it. It made him hot.

The message that Sam was in the bathroom slowly reached Casey's consciousness. But he still didn't mind. He even found it pleasant. He smiled to himself and asked, his eyes still closed, "Still there?"

"Mm-hm." It was the only answer he got, but it inflamed something wild in him.

Casey stretched like a cat, bending at the waist and leaning his shoulderblades against the wall, exposing his lower body in an erotic pose. Now he felt wanted. He wasn't sure he really was, but he felt that way, anyway. He felt attractive. He felt so damn hot.

Curiosity made him open his eyes. What he saw was more than he’d anticipated. Sam was standing near the shower, only the glass between them. His right hand rested against the shower door; the left one was moving slowly inside his pants, and Casey knew what that meant. They were going at it again, and he...couldn't wait.

Giving Sam a seductive look, he placed his hand in the same place where Sam held his. The glass separating their palms worked as a catalyst of lust, being a sweet barrier. For that moment the longing of their bodies, if not something more, was desired. It put them on fire.

Casey pushed on the door and Sam let it slide open. The barrier was gone. Casey looked straight into black eyes, his stare challenging, his mouth tempting, his body inviting and so sexy. Sam's lips slowly stretched in a lecherous smile and his pants slid lower, to his knees, then to his feet. He wore no underwear. He stood there, naked and beautiful: the god of carnal pleasure and fatal infatuation.

Casey's eyes followed the direction of Sam's pants, then returned to the agent's manhood, awakened and eager to be taken care of. His brow cocked up and he looked at Sam's face again, not raising his head. This was the first step of their sexual paso-doble. Sam made the second one, stepping into the shower and closing the door behind him. And then everything happened with the power of thunder and at the speed of lightning. No condom, no safety, no reason. The wild dance of entwined bodies, clouds of steam lashed by streams of hot water, lack of breath, strength of arms, hands, and thighs, hungry, violent kisses, biting teeth, blood on their lips....

Dams broke, minds went insane.

If Sam had been able to process the situation he probably would have come to the conclusion that he'd never wanted anybody that crazily. He'd never sent all his control to hell, never conveyed his yearning so passionately.

And if Casey could have forced his brain to focus on something besides Sam, he probably would have noted that sex had never been like this for him. Sure, he’d had wonderful experiences, but they hadn't been so...desperate. So "all or nothing", so "heaven or hell". Somewhere on the way leading to this moment, he'd got addicted to this ride with the devil.

Powerfully pressing Casey's chest flat to the slippery tiles, Sam splayed his legs and pushed his partner's knees widely apart. His hands, generously soaped, were everywhere, their smooth, sliding touch devouring Casey with his body and soul and making him greedy. The blond man opened up to the touch of impatient fingers between his buttocks. His backbone bent wonderfully, exposing his ass, leading Sam into temptation. The fingers slipped inside and with one deep, fluent thrust they conquered the soft flesh, lifting Casey onto his toes and making him almost climb the wall. Soon the fingers withdrew, giving way to the hard, pulsating shaft that stretched the entrance, forcing its way inside. Casey moaned from the sudden pain, but he managed to relax his body to take Sam’s size. He let his body be consumed. He gave up completely to this power, to this mad will of possession. Impaled, nailed to the wall, he moaned and groaned, his breathing shallow and abrupt.

Sam pulled out for a moment, and then with a nice, long movement he plunged into Casey to the root until their bodies connected, Sam's groin pressing against Casey's ass, his chest clinging to the other man's back, their fingers entangled above their heads, Sam's lips moaning random, dirty words into his lover's ear.

Casey closed his eyes. Oh, those lips...brushing his ear, nibbling, biting, licking. They were making him insane.

Sam's left hand kept his hips under control, while the right one snaked in between Casey's body and the wall and started to caress the man's cock.

And then the real ride started.

Sam's ass clenched and relaxed in turns, when his dick rubbed against the pulsating walls of Casey's anus, and his hand worked to keep the rhythm of his hips. Casey wanted to jump out of his skin; it was too much, too strong, too—

"Oh, God!" he shouted as a wave of relief started to build up deep down in his intestines. The wave rolled over him, gathered in his loins and tumbled through his cock, jerking his whole body in uncontrollable spasms and marking the tiles with white ribbons that were immediately washed away by the water that flowed down his chest. The effect was so strong that Casey would have fallen on his knees if he wasn't kept up by the strong body glued to his back. Moaning from the effort, Casey felt Sam's muscles tense, and a moment later a series of spasms shook them both when Sam, with a long, scattered moan of satisfaction, came inside Casey. Then he leaned his head against Casey's nape, breathing heavily and feeling weak from hot water, lack of oxygen, and the amazing experience of being madly in love, to the point of losing all common sense.

When he was once again able to control his body and mind, he slipped out of Casey and whispered, "You're one sneaky bastard."

"Look who's talking," Casey answered, trying to calm down and gather himself together.

Just to keep up his cold, heartless image, Sam jibed, "Don't be so clever, bitch."

Casey smiled. The insult didn't sound offensive at all. "Why not? I am." He smirked weakly.

"You're not going to turn this into a lovers' farce or some such shit. Forget about it." Sam tried to play his usual role, but it didn't come out very convincing, even to himself.

"Who's talking about any relationship?" Casey made an effort to shrug his shoulders as he turned around in the embrace of Sam's arms and faced his lover, the challenge back in his eyes together with a teasing smile. "I just felt like having good sex tonight. And I got what I wanted." He gave Sam a wink.

The dark-skinned man looked at him with amusement. He didn't say anything, just snorted and shook his head.

Seeing his consternation, Casey laughed honestly, kissed Sam on the mouth deeply and tenderly, and then sneaked out of the hug. On the way out his hand gave Sam's butt a slight spank.

As he stepped out of the shower, he sucked the fresh air into his lungs with real pleasure. His stupid plan had worked after all. That’s nice, isn't it? He smiled to himself and left the bathroom, naked, wet, and barely able to make it to the bed.

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How did you like it? I bet you thought "Finally!" :D