Something Green

by Drew Zachary

  "Uh-huh. No getting distracted. We're almost home, and you promised me a blow job." He threw Jesse a grin.

  "Can you eat and come at the same time?"

  "No. And I'm not even going to try. The food'll wait." It wasn't like Jesse's blow jobs ever lasted that long.

  "Now you're talking." Jesse looked pleased -- pleased enough that he didn't even bitch all the way home about the food and the fact that he couldn't eat it.

  DB pulled up across from his apartment and flashed Jesse another grin. "I'll meet you there in a minute," he said, grabbing the bag of food.

  Jesse didn't even say anything. He just vanished without a word, and DB knew exactly where he'd gone. Grinning like a fool about to be sucked off, he hightailed it up the front walk and took the stairs two at a time, bursting in to find Jesse already waiting for him on the couch, looking for all the world as if he'd been there forever.

  "You're slowing down," Jesse told him with a wide grin. "Put the lunch down before you drop it and get over here."

  DB tossed the bag at the coffee table and threw himself onto the couch next to Jesse, already working his pants open. It wasn't like Jesse could do that part -- foreplay was all verbal for them, and they'd done that already in the car.

  "Yeah, there." Jesse was muttering, likely to himself, as he watched DB getting that hard cock out. "That's it." There was a weird tingle as Jesse got to his knees, brushing along DB's leg because he got too close. "Man, I love this."

  "Me, too." DB reached out and slid his hand along Jesse's cheek, careful not to let it just sink in.

  Jesse smiled warmly at DB, his eyes dilated and dark, then dipped his head. Tingles concentrated at the head of DB's prick for a moment, and then solidified into the wet heat of Jesse's mouth.

  "Jesse!" His head fell back on the couch, his eyes closing as he spread his legs wider.

  The moan around his cock vibrated to his balls, and Jesse's mouth slid lower, clinging as Jesse licked and sucked. Licking his own lips, DB reached out and stroked Jesse's head, his lover solid now, skin even warm.

  Jesse moaned again and moved against DB's hand, then let DB slide from his mouth. "God, yes," he whispered. "Touch me." He went back to licking enthusiastically, his own hands busy sliding up DB's thighs to his groin.

  DB kept touching, fingers tracing Jesse's features, running his fingers through Jesse's hair. He didn't think about it, just went with being able to do it. Which got easier the longer Jesse sucked him, making him forget everything.

  As much as Jesse talked about them getting to the point where they could have other kinds of sex, he sure seemed happy to do this. He sucked with passion and determination, sounds spilling out of him and getting louder as he wrapped his lips around DB's cock and bobbed his head, taking DB in deep. When Jesse looked up, his mouth full and his eyes wide, DB could see how swollen and red his lips had become.

  DB shuddered, almost there. So close. "Jesse..." he whispered.

  A warm hand cupped his balls, and Jesse sucked at the tip for a moment before gliding back down and swallowing, still staring up at him. With a shout and a snap of his hips, he came hard.

  Jesse kept swallowing and licking, getting it all and making him shake. DB could hear him murmuring words, but had no idea what he was saying, and didn't particularly care; the tone meant that Jesse was happy. Really happy, if the mad fumbling Jesse was doing with his own belt and zipper meant anything.

  DB melted into the couch. "Bring that up here and I'll help."

  Jesse scrambled up onto the couch, his belt undone and his hands still fighting with the zipper. "Hurry!" He whimpered a bit and sprawled. "DB. Please."

  As soon as Jesse got his zipper undone, DB reached over and grabbed Jesse's cock. It was hot and velvety soft, leaking at the tip, which made stroking it easy as the drops slid down and eased the way.

  "Yes!" Jesse's hands slammed back to the couch and his hips lifted. "Oh my God, you have no idea. None. Oh, God!"

  "I think I have an idea or two." He squeezed hard on the upstroke, working Jesse's tip.

  "Nice ideas! Tight and fast ideas!" Jesse groaned and pushed into his hand, thighs shaking. "More. Little more." His eyes closed and screwed up tight, his teeth catching his lip and digging in.

  "You're sexy," DB told Jesse quietly, watching Jesse's face.

  "I am not." Jesse could barely talk, and his cock was like iron, slippery with his own precome. "Oh, shit. Gonna come."

  "Yeah, I love watching your face when you do." That let him know it was real.

  "DB!" Jesse arched, one hand grabbing DB's wrist and his eyes opening wide as he shot. He came in a tight arc, his whole body curling and jerking with every pulse until he fell back on the couch, limp. Grinning, but limp.

  DB let go pretty much right away -- he hated when Jesse faded while he was still touching. It was better if he'd already let go and was just looking, because then it stayed real. "That was good," he said with a grin.

  "Ya think?" Jesse's smile was a little lazy and sloppy. "Better than ice cream." He sat up gradually, then stood to do up his pants. One of the very few perks of being dead was that there wasn't any need to clean up; they had no idea where the mess went, they were just happy it did. "Thanks."

  "Thank you. You are the most enthusiastic blow jobber I've ever been with." He did up his own pants and reached for his bag of food. Damn it, he'd left his soda in the car.

  "I was never one to take 'cocksucker' as an insult," Jesse admitted. "More like instructions."

  DB started to laugh. God, as frustrating as it could be having a partner and lover who was a ghost, he couldn't deny that Jesse made him happy.

  He could live with that.

  ***

  It took almost an hour for Jesse to prod DB through eating his lunch, getting his drink from the car, and putting on fresh clothes. DB said he didn't need clean clothes, and Jesse pointed out that running errands at the bank after getting off with your ghost lover was maybe not the way to go.

  DB changed.

  Smug and satisfied, Jesse waved goodbye to DB and put himself at the office; one car ride was enough for the day, really, and it was a lot easier to just be there, waiting. Nothing had changed in the time they'd been gone, though, and Jesse had to admit that, while it was easier to just be there, it was pretty boring.

  He was trying to set up the chess board by the time DB arrived, a task which Jesse desperately wanted to do -- to prove he could move things on purpose -- but didn't want DB to know he practiced. It was too disheartening to fail with an audience who was invested in the outcome.

  When he heard DB coming down the hall, Jesse headed for his chair, pretending for all the world that he'd been there the whole time. Good little ghost.

  DB came in, coffee from the shop down the street in hand. If DB started using the coffee maker at the office, he'd save a ton of money and then he'd have more for the getting a receptionist again fund. DB didn't seem to eager to take Jesse’s advice, however.

  "Hey, you." DB gave him a smile and settled behind the desk, checking the answering machine for messages.

  "Hiya." Jesse smiled right back, his belly feeling warm and a little fluttery. Weird. "Good drive over?"

  DB shrugged. "It was a drive. No messages. Damn. I was hoping for at least one. Yanya's paying, though, so I shouldn't complain." DB turned to the computer, opening a file for their new case.

  "Call Joe." Jesse got up and went to peer at the computer. "We need to get him on the case, see what he can find out about the junk shop and how Lockhart died."

  DB nodded and started sorting through the little pile of business cards on his desk. Joe's wasn't too hard to dig out. "What do you think -- precinct or cell first?"

  "Cell. He'll have it on him no matter where he is, right?" Jesse still thought cell phones were the best thing ever. Back in his day, he'd been at the mercy of pay phones and quarters.

  DB placed the call, fingers drumming as he waited for Joe to pick up. He held the receiver slight
ly away from his ear, Jesse's invitation to listen in.

  "You're so good to me." Jesse grinned at him and waited to see if DB would blush.

  "Donners." Joe sounded distracted, his voice backed by the sound of traffic and voices, like he was walking outside.

  "Hey, Joe. Black here." DB was using his official phone voice. Jesse liked that voice. A lot. Maybe he was a horndog after all.

  "Black." There was a pause, and Jesse took advantage of it to get really close. "Black! Hey, you got something for me?"

  "Little something something," Jesse whispered, giggling.

  DB shot him a glare. "I need some help, actually. I think it might turn into something you'd like to have a piece of, but I won't know until I get some background information."

  "Yeah?" Another pause. "Are you at your office? I'm kind of in between the station and your building; we can talk either place. Your place might be better, what with your partner and all."

  "Aw, he likes me."

  DB mouthed "shut up" at him. "Yeah, my place is good."

  Yeah, Jesse would bet it was -- DB had grown an aversion to going to the police station.

  "See you in ten."

  Joe hung up, and Jesse grinned wider. "Ten whole minutes. We should make the most of it." Like making notes, compiling what they knew, playing with tingles...

  DB replaced the receiver. "You have a one-track mind."

  "I was thinking about work." Jesse gave him a lofty look. "Honestly, I think it's your mind that has one track, if you were thinking about tingles and stuff. Jeepers."

  "Uh-huh." DB lit a cigarette, grabbed his coffee, and leaned back in his chair.

  "You don't believe me." Not that Jesse could blame DB, not really. "Want to play some chess?" he asked, eyeing the smoke and trying not to long for it. "Or we can just bicker happily until Joe gets here."

  "Chess is fine." DB took a long drag, blowing the smoke out slowly before setting up the board.

  Jesse envied DB the ease of movement, but said nothing. Instead he concentrated on his game, becoming so absorbed in it that he missed Joe's approach.

  "Queen's bishop," Jesse said, staring hard at the board. "C'mon, DB. Move it."

  DB looked up past him and smiled. "Hi, Joe."

  "Rats." Jesse'd been only a handful of careful moves from checkmate.

  "Hey." Joe was looking at them -- well, at DB and the board -- curiously. "Who's winning?"

  Jesse waved. "Me."

  "Too early to tell."

  DB stood and reached over to shake Joe's hand. "If you'll give Jesse a minute to vacate it, you can sit in the chair."

  "Not until you tell him I was going to win. God." Jesse crossed his arms.

  "That's really... too weird for words." Joe was eyeing the chair, his gaze just above Jesse's hip bones.

  DB's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me a moment, Joe, my ghost is being stubborn." Then DB focused on him. "There's no proof you were going to win. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve, and if you don't move, I'll have Joe sit there anyway."

  Jesse narrowed his eyes right back at DB. "If he sits in me, I won't blow you at your desk for a week." It was an idle threat, and Jesse was pretty sure DB knew it.

  For his part, Joe was starting to look amused.

  DB crossed his arms, sat back, and nodded at the chair. "Go ahead, Joe. It's all yours." Even though he was speaking to Joe, DB was looking at Jesse.

  "Hell, no. Not until you tell me the ghost has moved."

  Jesse beamed. "Tell him I was going to win. Come on, I don't get to smoke or eat or anything. Give me this."

  DB groaned. "Fine, I'll lie and tell Joe you were going to win. He was going to win. Now get out of the damn chair so he can sit and I can stop looking like an idiot talking to myself!"

  "Was that so hard?" Jesse got up and went to his own chair, doing his victory dance. What did he care, it wasn't like Joe could see him.

  "You have your hands full, don't you?" Joe sat in the chair and smirked. Then he moved the queen's bishop.

  DB leaned over and moved the piece back. "No playing for the ghost. And yes, I do."

  Joe looked a little surprised, but didn't touch the board again. "It was an obvious move. Anyway, I'm here, you're here, apparently Jesse is here. What's the case?"

  DB ran his hand over his face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. I'm just not used to having people know." He cleared his throat and grabbed his notebook out of his pocket. "Ernest Lockhart, one-time fence and owner of Madame Yanya's. It was a junk shop back then. He's been doing God knows what for ten years, and now he's back and won't leave and something is up, but he's not saying." DB took a sip of his coffee and made a face, putting the cup back down. "I need to know the circumstances of his death, background on the junk shop, especially if it was the center of any sort of criminal activity, stuff like that. I was hoping you could help me out with that."

  Joe blinked. "What do you mean, he's back? He's back as a ghost?" He whipped out his own notepad and started scribbling. "Yanya's place was a junk shop. Fencing. Okay. Lockhart. Was he murdered? If it's not on record as a suspicious death, I might have some trouble."

  DB flipped through his notes. "It was ruled a heart attack, but I think there may have been an investigation first. I know you have to have something on him, just from the fencing angle. Anything you could give me would be good."

  "Okay." Joe looked like he was trying to be enthusiastic. "Is this an actual case? Like, you're getting paid?"

  "This happens to be an actual case. Lockhart is haunting my client, and she wants him gone. I think there's more to it than Lockhart is admitting. And I think someone might get hurt before it's over. I would kind of like to avoid that."

  "Keeping people from getting hurt is a good thing, yeah." Joe looked around, and Jesse slouched down so that when Joe looked at the chair he was more or less looking at Jesse's face. "And you're helping out? Talking to Lockhart and such?"

  "Yup. He's not saying much."

  DB relayed the information. "Jesse's doing what he can, but Lockhart's not talking. And what he is saying has me worried."

  Joe tilted his head. "What part? And worried about what? Or is it a who?"

  Jesse sat up again. "Tell him about the daughter. Although you can probably find her." DB was real good at finding people.

  DB rolled his eyes. "Yes, Jesse." To Joe he said, "There's a daughter. I'm going to start tracking her down once we're done here. There's also the fact that he's been hanging around for ten years waiting for what he called 'business' to finish up... I don't know, Joe. I don't have anything concrete, just my gut instinct. And Jesse's. He's pretty good at reading people."

  Jesse blinked. "Thanks, DB."

  DB shot him a look that said, "What?"

  "You say the sweetest things." Jesse blew him a kiss while Joe was still writing stuff down.

  DB rolled his eyes yet again, but Jesse could see DB was pleased.

  "So, do you think you can help me out with this?"

  Joe nodded as he stood up and put his notepad away. "Sure, I don't see why not. What kind of time frame are you on?"

  "Well, the client would like to get rid of the ghost as soon as possible." DB shrugged. "I don't have anything concrete to go on, but I'm thinking the sooner the better, you know?"

  "Who's the client, anyway? Who's he haunting?"

  DB winced and then rolled his eyes. "You have to keep this to yourself. Promise me."

  "What? Of course I promise. Well, unless it's going to wind up in breaking laws instead of bending them, which I can't see happening when the question is only 'who's being haunted.' Come on, spill."

  "It's a matter of embarrassment and professional reputation," DB said loftily. When Joe merely continued to look at him, one eyebrow up, DB closed his eyes and muttered, "Yanya."

  For a long moment Joe was silent, and then he cleared his throat, the sound dangerously close to a snicker. "Right. Our little secret." Joe got himself under control and watched DB open his eyes. "All ri
ght. I'll call you later. What are you going to be doing in the meantime? Anything I should know about?"

  "I'm going to try to track down the daughter. See if she knows anything," DB said.

  "You're good at that," Jesse told him. "We'll have her in an hour."

  Joe nodded, heading to the door. "Talk to you later, then. Good luck."

  "You, too, and thank you." DB watched until the outer door clicked, before turning back to Jesse. "You are so in trouble for that stunt with the chair."

  Jesse smiled innocently. "I have such little chance to make myself known to anyone but you, sweetheart. Dear? Honey?" None of those seemed right.