by R. G. Green
Capt. Carroll entered the building without another look back, and the TV switched back to the news anchor for a recap of the footage and a repeat of the single answer the Captain had given.
“Close call,” T.J. murmured, though Eric wasn’t sure if even T.J. fully realized just how close it was.
“It’s part of the politics,” Eric muttered darkly, turning back to his breakfast with a feeling very close to relief. “In situations like that, omission is sometimes as good as admission. He had to say something.” Because even scum like Victor Kroger could press harassment charges if there was a chance it was justified. He sighed as he finished his last bite, then placed his empty plate on the coffee table before leaning back into the couch, draping his hand over T.J.’s thigh.
Habit had gotten them up early that morning, and they had stayed up even though an early call from Perlman assured them that T.J. wouldn’t be required to show up at work. Donning sweats instead of jeans had been a welcome change for a weekday morning, and with no urgency to leave the house, they could actually watch the morning news rather than listen to it on the radio. The ice was predicted to continue throughout most of the day, and the list of schools and businesses that would remain closed continually trailed across the bottom of the television screen. The list of accidents that followed the Captain’s recorded footage was nearly as long as the business closings.
T.J. discarded his plate beside Eric’s as the drone of the newscast continued on, and he propped his elbow on the back of the couch as the topic changed from news to weather to sports. By the time the broadcast neared its end, his temple rested on his curled fingers, and Eric had slouched into a more comfortable position that had him leaning against the side of his lover with his hand a little deeper between his thighs. Eric knew he would need to call in to the precinct soon to take care of business, but not just yet. With a full stomach to take his mind off his hunger, his thoughts turned to the other things they could be doing before business intruded on their day.
“We should go back to bed,” he said silkily, sliding his hand a little higher as he nestled in a little closer. He could still feel the raw twinge in his ass and the pull of the bruises on his hips from the grip of T.J.’s fingers last night, and they were the only reasons they had not yet taken care of their morning hard-ons. Neither of the pains were a particular problem, though. Eric might prefer bottom, but topping was never out of question, and God knew T.J. had an ass that made him wonder why he didn’t fuck it more. He almost purred when T.J. covered his hand with his own and brought them both to touch the prominent line of his cock beneath the fleece.
“Trying to tell me something, baby?” T.J. asked innocently as he made a languid move of his hips against their palms. The squeeze Eric gave in response darkened his twinkling eyes.
“I was just thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be the only one suffering from a sore ass today,” Eric answered, low and teasing, dragging his hand over the fleece as he stroked from root to tip, adding pressure as he slid it back down. “There’s a warm bed, lots of lube, and nowhere to go. Sounds like opportunity is knocking.”
T.J. growled softly, pressing their palms a little harder. “Sounds like we shouldn’t keep it waiting.” He leaned over for a light, licking kiss. “Let me check the kitchen to make sure we don’t catch the place on fire.”
Eric didn’t have the chance to protest before T.J. pulled them to their feet, and he was forced to let go of both the kiss and the cock as he was pushed gently toward the front door. While the neighborhood was generally considered safe and they had never had a break-in, Eric wasn’t about to get complacent with security, and checking the locks was mere routine. It was just another habit that afterward he pulled the curtain away from the floor-to-ceiling window beside the door for a quick glance outside—and he nearly jumped at the glass in startled surprise.
“Eric? What’s going on?”
Eric didn’t answer, but he heard T.J.’s movement behind him, and he knew without looking that his lover had reached the matching window on the other side of the door. What he saw outside was obvious: a car inching its way through the sleet in front of their house. Eric couldn’t clearly see the driver or the passenger, but he recognized the make and model of the car, if not the year. It was a dark Lexus, and a little too rich for this neighborhood.
“It’s the weather slowing him down,” T.J. murmured from his window. “The roads have to be a sheet of ice by now.”
“I don’t recognize the car,” Eric answered him, following the vehicle’s slow progression. “It’s certainly not from this neighborhood.”
T.J. frowned. “He could be visiting or lost. Or more likely just passing through.”
Eric grunted softly. “We’re kind of out of the way for someone wanting a shortcut,” he told him bluntly, never taking his eyes from the vehicle. The car moved slowly but didn’t stop, and he watched the taillights until they vanished from view, feeling a chill that had little to do with the frosty glass he was peering through. Seconds ticked by without the Lexus reappearing, and at last Eric let the curtain fall back into the place. T.J. had already done so and stood frowning at him when Eric turned to face him.
“It’s just a car, baby. Whether he’s late, lost, or stupid, he was still most likely just passing through.”
Eric sighed, his nerves still dancing as he glanced back at the curtained window. A Lexus, here? “Yeah, maybe.”
“Yeah, maybe,” T.J. echoed teasingly, crossing in front of the door to reach him. His hands on Eric’s hips got his attention, and the bump as he brought them together reminded them and their cocks of where they had been going. “Bed, baby. Your ass may be sore, but mine’s not.” He nipped Eric’s nose. “Yet.”
“You certainly have a way with words,” Eric said approvingly, and he had to smile despite what his nerves were telling him about the Lexus outside their house. T.J. may have been right: the car might just be lost, which meant the driver would learn soon enough that he would have to turn around to get back to the main highway. And it was a Lexus, not an Altima.
Still, he couldn’t help looking over his shoulder as they moved into the hall, and he couldn’t keep the frown from returning as he stared at the solid, unmoving curtain covering the window.
“A Lexus? They’re all over every city on the map coast to coast, and there are no laws against them driving on any road that has public access. Not good enough, Geller.”
Capt. Carroll didn’t make any attempt to hide the impatience in his tone, and it reverberated clearly over the cell phone connection. Eric scowled as he shifted his stance beside the kitchen table, and he forced himself to listen again to how he was blowing things out of proportion. The smell of salt and butter accompanied the gentle pop of popcorn sizzling in the microwave, and T.J. was already pulling out the large bowl he would pour it into. Sex had led to a nap that had lasted through lunch, and movies and popcorn had sounded better to both of them than an actual lunch with sustenance. The movie they had picked out was already loaded in the DVD player, and Eric had just finished his latest “meeting” with his team. Reporting to the captain was the last bit of business to take care of.
“A vehicle of that caliber doesn’t just go wandering around in random neighborhoods in weather like this,” Eric repeated bitingly when the captain paused. He ignored T.J.’s raised eyebrow.
“Did you see a camera?” the captain cut in pointedly. “Or, God help us, a gun? Did you see him deliberately casing your house? Did he stop and look? Did you see anything besides some jackass driving down the road in a damn ice storm in a fucking Lexus?”
They both knew the answers to those questions.
“Fine,” Eric muttered into his cell. “If you say I’ve got nothing, then I’ve got nothing. But that doesn’t mean I’m letting it go.”
“Now look,” the captain went on, softening only slightly. “I’m not about to say that Victor Kroger is out of the picture or that you even consider letting your guard down while he is
still on the street, but there is a difference between attention to detail and seeing things that aren’t there. If you’ve got a plate, we’ll run it. A description, and we’ll pull out the mug shots. Any questionable activity at all, and we’ll put out a BOLO. But driving slowly in icy conditions? Just because it’s on your road doesn’t make it a criminal activity. Now, are you going to give me a real reason to hunt this vehicle down?”
A heavy silence ensued.
“I didn’t think so,” Capt. Carroll finished shortly. “Now, when you’ve got something to go on, you’d damn well better let me know. But until then—until then—you will let it go. Got it? Another fiasco like the trial and it won’t be the public or media tearing us apart.” That ending up on the wrong side of the city prosecutor would not be pleasant was left unsaid. “And you had better hope your people find something worthwhile soon, Geller. The longer this goes on, the closer it gets to my having to pull the plug on it. Judge Kenczik would like nothing more than to have our badges over this, and I’m not about to give him the opportunity.”
That threat was clear and unquestionable. “I’ll keep you informed,” Eric promised darkly. Then he thumbed the phone off as T.J. pulled the popcorn from the microwave. His team was working but had yet to find anything incriminating, and as the captain had so graciously informed him, a Lexus on the street wasn’t enough for the police blotter, let alone any investigative action. He was still scowling as he watched the steaming, fluffy kernels land in the bowl.
“Do you think I’m overreacting?” he asked T.J. suddenly, drawing his gaze away from the popcorn to focus on T.J.’s face. He knew what his captain and department thought, but he really wanted to hear what his lover’s answer would be.
T.J. hesitated and then turned carefully to face him while popping one fluffy white kernel into his mouth. When he answered, it was honestly. “I think those pictures are freaking you out, and making you so desperate to catch whoever took them—Victor or his thugs—that you’re seeing the things you want to see, even if maybe they’re not there.”
Eric let out a huff of breath, then glanced at his phone before tossing it on the table. “That’s a long way of saying ‘yes’.”
“That’s a long way of saying ‘don’t let those pictures get the best of you’,” T.J. clarified, taking a step closer. “You’re a good detective, and a smart one, and a clever enough one to get Victor Kroger even if he is bribing judges into looking the other way.” He planted a salty kiss on Eric’s lips. “Just don’t let those pictures distract you.”
Eric wanted to argue that he wasn’t letting them distract him, that he knew what he saw and he knew how dangerous ignoring any of this would be, but instead he ended up smiling as he licked the salt from his own lips and then T.J.’s, remembering clearly the salt he had licked from his lover’s skin while his cock had been buried in his ass.
“You’ve got a better chance of distracting me than those pictures do,” he said simply, and then he frowned as he studied his lover’s face. “You know, there were pictures of you in that stack too. Besides the fact that you’re sleeping with a detective, why aren’t you freaking out about them?”
T.J. let out a small laugh. “I am a little,” he admitted, “but what would you suggest I do about it? Call the cops and demand they catch whoever took them?” He leaned in for another kiss. “I think that’s covered. Now let’s go watch our movie.”
Eric sighed softly. He doubted T.J. would be so easy with all of this if he had seen the last year firsthand like Eric had. But Eric didn’t have the luxury of that separation, then or now. Arguing the point would be useless, however, and he wasn’t going to ruin their day by doing that. Instead he leaned over for his own handful of popcorn and made the decision to let it go—for now. It was just after one, and the Lexus had vanished hours ago, and he had the whole afternoon to lounge around with his lover. With or without clothes.
Still, he couldn’t help casting a glance at the solidly curtained window on their way back to the couch.
Eric gasped, clenching his fingers in T.J.’s hair as his hips thrust up, his inner thighs bumping T.J.’s shoulders as his cock throbbed heavily in T.J.’s throat. T.J.’s nose was buried in the hair at his groin, with his throat working frantically as he swallowed each pulsing shot, his fingers gripping the sweat-slicked skin of Eric’s hips.
“God!” Eric breathed out again, though somewhat softer as the spurts became shorter, the waves of his orgasm peaking and receding. The sheets beneath his back were wrinkled and twisted, the pillow under his head a little askew, the blanket and comforter again on the floor. He fidgeted a little when T.J. slowly released his cock, then let his tongue lathe each of Eric’s balls in turn before trailing along the underside of his cock and licking the last bit of cum from the head. The gentle kiss to his stomach that followed nearly had Eric giggling.
T.J. continued to kiss his way up Eric’s body, pausing to lap at each nipple before moving on, and Eric could feel his lover’s still-hard cock brush its way higher along his body. When T.J.’s kisses finally reached his lips, Eric welcomed him eagerly, tasting himself on T.J.’s tongue and dropping his hand to T.J.’s erection. He knew exactly how T.J. liked to be handled, knew what to do with his fingers and thumb to drive his man crazy, and he soon had T.J. pumping into his hand as he kept his mouth engaged with demanding, tongue-infused kisses. T.J. came with a grunt, his cum splattering on their stomachs and chests.
Eric didn’t let go until long after the orgasm faded and the kisses had gentled to a tender brush of lips. T.J. had managed to keep his weight off Eric by balancing on his forearms, but the exhaustion that followed release threatened to collapse him at any moment. Eric finally eased his hold as T.J. shifted to lie beside him, though not even his overheated body kept Eric from curling into him. T.J. caught his wrist as he finished moving, bringing it to his lips to lick the streaks of cum from his fingers.
The sleet had finally tapered off as daylight faded into night, and the moon over T.J.’s shoulder cast a liquid blue light over the bed and their cooling bodies. They probably should have pulled the shade down on the window, but it was late, and the window overlooked the backyard, complete with its privacy fence and the short field to the tree line behind the house. The fence wasn’t all that high, and there was another backyard on the other side of the clearly visible tree line, but there was enough distance and blockage from the trees to prevent anyone but the most determined peeping tom from seeing them. Because of that Eric had never been overly concerned with the shade, preferring the erotic play of moonlight on T.J.’s naked body to the certainty of privacy. A glance over T.J.’s shoulder as his lover continued to lick his fingers and palm showed the bright and nearly full moon glowing in the almost starless sky, bathing the yard and field in soft, white light…
… and clearly illuminating the figure standing by the edge of the tree line, holding a video camera aimed at their bedroom.
“Fuck!” he cried out sharply, jerking away from T.J. and nearly crawling over him to gain his feet. The discarded blankets on the floor tangled around his ankles and sent him stumbling onto his knees, though the jar barely registered as he lunged toward the window. T.J. fought clumsily to sit up amid the sudden surge of motion.
“Eric! What the fuck?” T.J. managed hoarsely. The remnants of lust roughened his voice, and the abrupt change startled him enough that he reached urgently for Eric’s scrambling figure before his own balance was set.
“He’s there, T.J.! Outside, by the trees! Watching us!” He eluded T.J.’s hands as he crawled to the window and crouched low beside it, glaring through the edge of the glass to try to pick out the figure again. Only the movement of shadows gave any indication someone was there.
“Eric,” T.J. said heavily behind him, having at last swung both legs over the edge of the bed, “what the hell are you doing?”
“He’s out there—”
“Who?”
Eric whirled at the absurdity of the question, th
en jerked back to the window but got little more than a glance before a hand pressed into his shoulder and pulled him back. He turned with the intention of arguing the point of what he’d seen but instead found himself all but dumped on the floor as T.J. used the momentum to get him farther away from the window. T.J.’s face was visible in the moonlight, calm, more than a little confused, and just a little bit exasperated, but it wasn’t until T.J.’s lips tightened that Eric realized that he was going to move. Panic surged through him at the thought of T.J. visible through the window, his body a clear and perfect target.
Eric lunged toward him to stop him. “T.J.! He’s out there!”
“Eric, calm down.” T.J.’s hands had closed over his wrists, and he stoically pulled him up and back until Eric was seated on the bed.
“T.J.! Don’t—”
“Shhh. I’m just going to look, all right?”
Every nerve in Eric’s body screamed when T.J. released him, every ounce of his being wanting to pull T.J. back when he stepped to the window. But he stared as if paralyzed as T.J. bent to look out, until fear won out suddenly, and he shot off the bed to drag his lover back.