by Lisa Worrall
Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel off the rack and briskly dried himself before wrapping the towel around his waist and then taking another to rub over his hair. He dropped both towels into the laundry hamper, and opened the medicine cabinet, taking out a bottle of Tylenol. Popping the cap, he shook two into his hand and tossed them into his mouth, running some water into his cupped hand and then slurping the pills down. He grimaced at the taste left behind on his tongue and grabbed his toothbrush, squeezing toothpaste on the bristles and brushing his teeth. He paid particular attention to his tongue, trying to scrub away the acrid chalkiness. Rinsing his mouth, he washed out the glass and snapped off the light before he opened the bathroom door.
Will padded barefoot down the hall and into the bedroom. His tiredness seemed to drain away as he took in the sight before him. Scott's profile was illuminated in the muted glow of the bedside lamp, and a book lay open on his stomach. He smiled, this was the third time this week he'd fallen asleep reading while he waited for Will to come home. Crossing the room, he gently maneuvered the book from beneath Scott's fingers, popped the bookmark inside to save his place, and then put the book on the nightstand beside Scott's cell.
He stretched his arms over his head, biting his lip as his vertebrae realigned and his muscles complained at the harsh treatment they were receiving. With some of the tension eased, he slid as quietly as he could between the sheets, not wanting to disturb the sleeping man beside him. He rolled over onto his side so that he was facing Scott and slipped one arm beneath his pillow, rubbing his cheek against the soft cotton of the pillowcase, another yawn opening his mouth wide.
Will gazed adoringly at Scott, following each line and curve of his face in the glow of the lamp. In repose, the other man looked like a teenager, his skin tanned and smooth, full lips parted slightly and long dark lashes fluttering like butterfly wings against his cheeks. Jesus, Harrison. He's right; you have got to stop reading Sue Brown! He knew he was acting like some lovesick moron, but he couldn't help it. He just thanked God every day that Scott was alive.
Closing his eyes, he let the memory of Scott's hospital stay wash over him. It had been the third day after the shooting. They'd been sharing Scott's room as Will had insisted on being moved so he could be with him. One minute they had been bickering over the remote for the TV and the next Scott's temperature had suddenly spiked and he'd had a seizure. Will had watched the infection rage through Scott for almost a week. They kept pumping antibiotics into him and for a few hours he would be lucid and then his temperature would go haywire and they'd be back to square one. At one point, they'd even mumbled that Will should prepare himself for the worst and say his goodbyes. He'd very politely replied, "Fuck that!" and told an unconscious Scott in no uncertain terms that if he thought he was going to wimp out now, he had another think coming. It must have worked, because nine hours later, his temperature dropped and stayed that way. But Will didn't breathe a sigh of relief until Scott's navy eyes opened later that day.
Recovery had been arduous after that, and it was three weeks before they finally let Scott out of the hospital, although they wouldn't let him even consider returning to work for another nine weeks. Will smiled fondly. Yesterday had been Scott's first day back on the job and Will had watched him like a hawk. The doctor had said that he was only allowed to do light duties for the first few weeks, because he would tire easily, so Will had made sure he followed the doctor's orders to the letter. Much to Scott's annoyance. In fact, Will bit back a chuckle, by ten-thirty, Scott had dragged him to the bathroom and told him that if he didn't leave him the fuck alone, he was going to drown him in the toilet. Will had backed off, after Scott had agreed to leave the office by five every night until he was stronger.
"Stop staring."
Scott's deep voice was thick with sleep, and Will moved closer, draping his arm over Scott's slender waist. "I thought you were asleep," he murmured, pressing his lips to the other man's temple.
"I was," Scott complained, "but this creepy-assed freak keeps staring at me."
Will chuckled as Scott rolled away from him and then shuffled backwards until they were comfortably spooning. "It's your own fault for being so Goddamn hot. Did you eat? Are you hungry—?"
"Will?"
"Yeah?"
"Stop talking."
"Okay."
Scott stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his lean hips. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, he studied his reflection objectively. He'd lost a little weight over the last three months, but he was gaining it back now, so his face wasn't as haggard as before. The infection he had developed in the hospital had knocked him for a loop and he'd had to spend an extra three weeks stuck in that bed after Will had been released, not that he remembered much.
His fingers brushed softly against the scar on his left side. The doctors had assured him that he was in great physical shape and living with one kidney was something he could adjust to with some relatively simple measures. He had to increase his fluid intake and drink at least two to three liters of water a day, change his dietary habits, and maintain a healthy lifestyle. This combined with regular six-month check-ups to ensure his remaining kidney was not under any undue stress, meant that there was no reason why he shouldn't live a long and healthy life.
Yesterday had been his first day back at work. He sighed as he squeezed toothpaste out onto his toothbrush and began to clean his teeth. As expected, the good-natured ribbing had started almost as soon as he'd walked through the door. The rubber ring on his chair, because they figured it must be hard to sit down, what with Will being such a big boy. The condoms and lube in his desk drawer and the GQ magazines stuffed into files. Scott had tried to take it all in good fun, the way it was meant, but he had found his gut tightening with every crack. This had been one of the reasons why he had kept his sexuality to himself. He'd rolled his eyes and thrown the magazines in the trash and then settled down to work, glancing over at Will briefly and wondering just how nasty the ribbing might turn if they knew what had really gone on between them in Laurel Heights, or that they were now practically living together in Scott's modest home.
Turning on the faucet, he cleaned his toothbrush under the flow of water before rinsing his mouth. When he was finished, he wandered back into the bedroom and smiled slowly at the vision waiting for him. The early morning sun sent shafts of light through the chink in the curtain and fell on the miles of honey-toned skin currently sleeping soundly in his bed. Scratch that, their bed. The sheet had inched its way down Will's back, barely skimming the glorious curve of his firm ass, baring a large amount of cheek to Scott's gaze. His cock thickened and filled, tenting the towel knotted around him, and his lips curved into a wicked smile as he crossed the room.
Crawling up the bed, he straddled Will's thighs, keeping his stance wide and being careful not to lower his weight down onto the sleeping man. Scott slowly peeled back the sheet, raising high onto his hands and knees. Bending his head and parting his lips, he ran the tip of his tongue down Will's lower back and over the curve of his ass. Will's skin twitched beneath his tongue and he tried not to chuckle when the other man grunted loudly into the pillow at the first flick of Scott's tongue against his rim.
"Ugnh," Will breathed, fingers clawing at the sheets beneath him.
Scott felt the groan Will emitted against his lips as it vibrated through the other man's body, the groan turning into a high-pitched keening as he pointed his tongue and breached the ring of muscle, pushing inside.
"Scott!"
"Yes, baby?" Scott said, pulling back to scrape his teeth across the soft flesh of Will's ass cheek. Reveling in the sound of the whine at the removal of his tongue. He placed a hand on Will's ass, as the other man pushed backward, seeking his touch. "So impatient," he crooned, nipping at the globes of flesh and suckling on smooth skin.
"Don't stop," Will begged. "I love the way you rim me… oh, God, Scott."
Scott tapped Will's ass lightly and worked
his tongue inside of the quivering man again. Moving his hand down, he alternated between rolling Will's balls in his palm and stroking the length of his hard shaft, smoothing his thumb over the already leaking head. When he slid a finger alongside his tongue, pushing hard, Will cried out harshly from deep within his chest. Scott smiled against Will's hole and licked at the rim in short, stabs, loving the sounds that came from his lover, loving that he was responsible for them.
"Scott, fuck me, baby, please."
Scott stabbed at the ring of muscle with his pointed tongue one more time, before scrambling up the bed to grab a condom and the lube from the nightstand drawer. Quickly slicking up his fingers, he rolled Will over onto his back and slid a pillow beneath lean hips, before sliding back into the writhing mess that used to be Will 'I'm a big tough cop' Harrison.
"I'm right here, beautiful," Scott crooned, sliding in a second, then a third finger, pumping them in and out, stretching the muscle while ripping the condom open with his teeth. "You like that?" He gasped at the animalistic cries falling from Will's lips when his fingers slid over that sweet bundle of nerves inside dark, wet heat. "Fuck, Will. The way you sound... just the sound of you makes me wanna come." Scott pulled his fingers free slowly, quickly rolling the condom down his painfully hard shaft and lifting Will's legs onto his shoulders. Leaning down, he kissed Will deep and dirty as he pushed into him.
Scott couldn't stop the whimper that mingled with Will's when the head of his cock slid past the ring of muscle and into the dark heat beyond. When he was all the way in, he panted desperately into Will's neck, licking at the sheen of sweat in the hollow of his throat. Will's muscles clenched around him and he took that as his cue. Locking with brown eyes that had darkened to burnt chocolate, Scott began to thrust in earnest.
The room filled with the sounds of their harsh breaths and ragged moans as Scott moved within Will, his Will. He was still constantly amazed at how perfectly they fit together. Two halves of one whole, moving in sync with one another, so close they could read each other's movements before they were even made. He'd never loved anyone as deeply as he loved Will—hadn't thought he knew how to love, not like this. He angled his hips and Will cried out again and again, meeting him thrust for thrust as he hit that spot deep inside.
"I love you," he groaned closing his fingers around Will's leaking cock, stroking him in time with the rolling thrusts of his hips. He was unable to drag his eyes from Will's when the other man reached up and cupped his face in shaking hands as he came, pulsing over Scott's fingers. He breathed harshly, watching the pleasure blow Will's pupils almost completely, thrusting deep inside and holding himself there as his own cock twitched in his orgasm and spilled hot and heavy into Will's ass.
"Will," Scott breathed, collapsing against Will's chest as long legs fell from his shoulders and wrapped themselves around his waist. "Jesus, fuck," he said eloquently, sliding his lips across Will's and kissing him slowly, pouring his heart into the kiss. A kiss filled with every corny romantic line he could never come up with to express how much he loved this man. He wished he could find the right words to explain to Will how, just when he thought it was impossible, he fell in love with him just that little bit more. That every damn day his heart felt that little bit fuller, whether it just be a look, or a word, or the sound of Will's laughter—but every day he found himself falling deeper.
Withdrawing slowly, Scott kissed soft lips in apology for the hiss of complaint Will made, and quickly stripped himself of the condom and tied it off, tossing it into the trashcan by the bed. He grabbed the towel he had been wearing when he came out of the shower and wiped off Will's belly before curling around his warm, sweat slick skin. Resting his head on the other man's muscled chest, he sighed contentedly, completely boneless in his satiation. "You're thinking," he drawled, circling Will's nipple with a gentle finger. "I can hear you."
Will pressed a kiss to Scott's hair. Every muscle in his body pulsed with tiny sparks in the afterglow of his orgasm and he lifted a hand to feather his fingers through the soft, dark strands that lay against Scott's forehead. "I was just thinking about yesterday, you know, your first day back. It wasn't too bad, was it?"
"Once they'd got all the butt-fucking jokes out of the way," Scott said derisively.
"It's just harmless banter, babe, you know that," Will reassured, continuing to stroke his fingers through Scott's bangs. "They're all glad to see you back. I got the same treatment my first day, except they'd replaced my desk chair with a wheelchair covered in pretty pink bows and blown up condoms." He smiled when Scott snorted inelegantly at the picture he was creating. "They'll get bored with the whole, Will and Scott's fabulous undercover adventure soon enough." Scott mumbled into Will's neck and he pulled him closer.
He understood how Scott felt about the ribbing, knew the reasons. But he'd tried to impress upon him that their colleagues were just making a big joke about the situation, not about their sexuality. No one knew the truth. Will sighed heavily and rubbed his cheek against Scott's hair, inhaling the scent of the shampoo he had used earlier. As much as he may want them to.
The moment the doctor had told him that Scott was going to be all right, he'd known being together behind closed doors was not something he wanted for forever. He'd been so happy and so relieved that he hadn't lost the giant asshole, he'd wanted to run screaming through the streets of New York shouting his love for the other man to the sky. But he hadn't. Instead, he'd found himself in a quiet stairwell as he'd slid down the wall, ignoring the pain in his thigh as he sobbed like a baby.
He loved the man beside him, without condition. Loved everything about him, including his insecurity and foolish fears about letting the outside world know who he really was—who they really were. Scott had his reasons, he understood that. Had spent long nights talking until the small hours about Paul Turner and his utter decimation of his son's confidence; the fear the man had planted in Scott's head that everyone would treat him the same way his father had, once they discovered the real him. He just had to cling on to the hope that one day, Scott might love him enough to get past that and be able to embrace their relationship in the light, instead of wanting it kept in the dark. Because he knew one thing for certain, Scott was it for him, now and forever—for better or worse.
"I love you," Scott murmured, stroking his fingers up and down Will's side.
"I love you," Will replied, capturing Scott's lips in his and kissing him deeply. "And as much as I'd love to spend the rest of the day in bed showing you just how much, if we don't move it, we're going to be late." He ignored Scott's grumble and slapped his firm, round ass before he clambered off the bed. "Come on, asshole. We've got to be there in an hour."
Today was Jay's sentencing hearing.
"Scott?"
Turning at the sound of the voice, Scott grinned widely at Todd, pulling the other man into his arms for a warm hug. "Hey, Todd, how are you?" Scott said softly, looking into deep blue eyes.
Todd shrugged. "I'm doing better. How about you? They finally let you go back to work I see."
"Yeah, I think I was driving Will crazy. He's been back for a month now and every time he got home, I grilled him for hours. I'm glad to be doing something again. Although the doc's put me on desk duty for a while, at least I'm out of the house." Glancing over Todd's head, Scott smiled at Marcus who was chatting animatedly to Will. "How's Marcus?"
"He's great, really great. We've been going to counseling together and it's helping. He thinks it's his fault. That he should have known. Shouldn't have left me alone, shouldn't have just accepted the excuses I came up with." Todd gazed at the big man with an adoring smile on his face. "Of course, it's not his fault, and I think he's finally beginning to accept that. There's still a long road ahead, but we're getting there. And we're moving at last. We've bought a little place near Fort Worth; it's not huge, but just what we've always wanted. It's a brand-new start, for both of us, and Erik's gonna come out and stay with us for a while. What about you and Will?
Still in the closet?"
Scott chuckled at Todd's good-natured tease. "We're good. Really good. Let's just say both our closets are now in the same house."
"But the doors are still firmly closed?"
"For now," Scott conceded, squeezing Todd's shoulder. He didn't miss the look of regret in Todd's eyes at his confession, but today wasn't about him and Will. Today was about justice for Todd. He smiled at Marcus and accepted his hug as the big man and Will came to join them. "Marcus, good to see you, man. Todd was telling me about the ranch. Sounds like everything's going well." He glanced up at the clock on the wall above them. "Are the others coming?"
"They're planning to, well, everyone except Erik. He's having a real hard time." Marcus sighed heavily and slipped his hand into Todd's. "He blames himself. Thinks he should have known. I know how he feels. We did debate keeping Brent away, but he's promised us he won't be leaping across any tables to kill Jay with his bare hands." Blue eyes hardened. "Not that I would be rushing to stop him if he did."
David and Brent walked through door, followed by Damon and Cal, taking the time to greet Scott and Will before huddling around Todd and Marcus, pack-like in their stance. Their support for their friend palpable.
"So," Brent said, his hand firm on Todd's shoulder. "What do you think the judge will do? Can Jay appeal against the judge's decision? We don't want Todd to have to go through another trial."
Will shook his head reassuringly. "I don't think there's any danger of that, Brent. Jay can appeal all he likes, but any appeal could take years. When it comes down to it, he committed a capital crime. He killed two people in cold blood, not to mention what he put Todd through, and the whole attempted murder of two police officers. It was obvious that the defense was going to try to come up with an insanity plea, but the psychiatrists already debunked that. Jay's a sadistic sociopath; he knew exactly what he was doing." He ran a hand through his hair. "The sentence itself will be decided by the same jury who sat at the trial. The judge then has the option to modify the sentence within the confines of the law. The prosecution and defense will offer the jury facts from the trial, but I know there are no witnesses scheduled, so it will just be a summation. Then the jury will retire and when they've reached a decision, we'll be called back in to hear the suggested sentence."