Fire and Agate

by Andrew Grey

  “I no used to it.”

  Chris squeezed Pavle’s hand. “I hope you get used to it. Because nothing would make me happier than for you to get used to being happy.” He swirled his tongue in Pavle’s belly button, the muscles fluttering as Pavle giggled. Then, as Chris ran his hand along the ridge under his jeans, the sound morphed into a quiet moan whose beauty rumbled in Pavle’s throat. “You like that?”

  “Yes….” Pavle gasped. Chris lifted his gaze to Pavle’s glassy eyes as he held his breath and didn’t move. “Chris….”

  Chris unfastened the clasp on Pavle’s jeans and parted the fabric to lick the trail of exposed skin, inhaling the deep richness of Pavle’s scent as he buried his nose against him. “You’re beautiful.” He inhaled again, the aroma wrapping around the pleasure centers of his brain, taking root so he could always remember.

  Pavle’s cheeks reddened as Chris tugged the fabric lower and then off his legs. Chris stared at a naked and vulnerable Pavle, and his heart skipped a beat.

  “I scared,” Pavle whispered.

  Chris backed away. “Why?”

  “What if you no like me?” Pavle asked, and Chris’s eyes widened. Pavle propped himself up on his elbows once again, even as Chris’s mouth went dry and his eyes bugged out of his head.

  “Not like you?” He gathered Pavle in his arms, holding him tightly. “You are amazingly beautiful and precious.” That was the only word that came to mind. He cradled Pavle, kissing him, pouring everything he had into the touch between them. Pavle clung to him, holding and whimpering as Chris once again found that spot at the base of his neck. “Damn, you make me want you so badly.” He pressed Pavle back on the bed, pausing to look into his eyes. “I will never hurt you,” he promised.

  “I know. But what if I no enough?”

  Chris held Pavle tighter. “You are more than enough.” He slid along Pavle’s body, licking his way down his belly before sucking Pavle’s length between his lips.

  Pavle gasped and groaned as Chris took him deep, whimpered as Chris took all of him. Chris buried his nose against Pavle’s skin, swirling his tongue and giving Pavle everything he had. Damn, Pavle tasted great, and his cock sliding over Chris’s tongue was heaven. His own cock throbbed in his jeans, aching for attention. He managed to unfasten his pants without breaking his rhythm, driving a shaking Pavle to the highest heights of passion possible. At least he hoped so.

  It took a few minutes, but Pavle finally let go, moaning more loudly and even bucking against him. That was what he wanted, for Pavle to release some of his reticence and let himself go in the moment. Chris knew that was going to be hard for him, and seeing and feeling it sent a whole new wave of heat rushing through him.

  “Chris….” Pavle whimpered.

  Chris sucked harder, taking all of Pavle’s girth between his lips, hollowing out his cheeks while stroking himself, a jolt of pleasure racing through him with each moan, every whimper. When Pavle stilled, Chris held his breath and backed off, stroking Pavle long and firm until he gasped and cried out, coming hard and long, streaking heat all over Chris fingers, Pavle’s release sending him over the edge.

  “I…,” Pavle whispered as Chris’s mind, bathed in happiness, slowly returned to some sort of function.

  He hurried to the bathroom and returned with a towel. After a quick wipe-up, Chris tugged off his shirt, stepped out of his pants, and climbed onto the bed, tugging Pavle to him. “You are stunning.”

  “What does mean?”

  “Beautiful, radiant, amazing… all at the same time.” Chris smiled and nestled his face in Pavle’s hair. “I love you.”

  “Is that how you show it?” Pavle asked.

  “Sometimes. Everyone shows they love someone differently. Some people….” Chris paused. “My mom told me that when she and my dad were dating, he used to give her flowers. Dad didn’t have a lot of money, so he’d gather the flowers himself and bring her a bouquet.” Chris snickered as he drew Pavle closer, gently rubbing his smooth belly. “One time he brought her flowers, and she sneezed all over the place. Turned out my dad said I love you with weeds.”

  Pavle chuckled.

  “Saying I love you is all about doing something from the heart.”

  “Like when you cook for me?” Pavle asked, “Or hold me like this?”

  “Yes. It’s doing something you know the other person will like. Sometimes it’s just lying still and quietly with someone, letting the spring breeze blow in the room.” Chris quieted as his eyes drifted closed.

  “Is how it was before… with Louis?” Pavle ghosted his fingers over Chris’s arm.

  “No. Louis was all about the sex. He didn’t do grand gestures, unless you count stealing oranges and apples out of the cafeteria for me.” Things had been very different then. He’d really thought he’d been in love with him, but it was something else. Chris could see that now. “It isn’t the same.”

  Pavle rolled over. “Is that bad?”

  “No. It’s good actually. I’ve grown up, and what I want out of a relationship is a lot more than it was then.” Chris sighed and grew quiet.

  “What you want?” Pavle asked, and Chris rolled his eyes at himself. He should have expected that one.

  “What’s more important is what you want.” Chris knew he was turning the tables, but really wanted to know. What surprised him was that Pavle didn’t seem to have an answer.

  “No one ask that before,” Pavle said. “I want be happy. I know it simple, but that what I want. I come here to have chance to be success and good. So, I want that.” Pavle kissed him gently, then closed his eyes… until his belly growled.

  Chris chuckled and slowly slipped off the bed. He pulled on his clothes and waited for Pavle before taking his hand and leading him down the stairs to make some lunch. Chris tried not to think about exactly what Pavle would decide would make him happy, but hoped he was part of that mix.

  Chapter 8

  “NANNA!” CHRIS called as he unlocked her front door and walked inside. Out of habit and caution, he looked around, his heart beating faster when he didn’t hear her or Pavle.

  Things had worked out remarkably well for the last two days. Pavle and Nanna kept each other company, and Chris came home from the station to a feast for the eyes in Pavle’s smile and a feast for his belly, because the two of them had taken to cooking together.

  A few of the guys had given him some shit for having a drug house right next door, but that had passed quickly when other excitement came up. Still, Chris looked at most of the guys he worked with differently now, thinking one of them might be a leak. He found himself locking his desk and guarding his work from prying eyes, and saw Briggs doing the same thing, while trying not to look like he was. Chris noticed, however, that the case files on his desk were old, cold cases rather than what he was currently working on.

  This really sucked.

  Just before he’d left, Briggs had stopped by his desk, making small talk and looking toward the conference room. Then Briggs walked away, and Chris finished up the report he was working on before joining Briggs behind closed doors.

  “I hate this.”

  “So do I, but I think I might have found our problem. At least the source of the information.” Briggs was dead serious. “The sheriff wants to talk to you. When you’re in his office, take a close look around but don’t look like you are. He wants a personal update. Apparently the FBI have been questioning how secure we are keeping our witnesses, and shocker of shockers, he’s stood up for the department rather than rolling over like the spineless political snake he is.” No animosity there… none at all.

  “You don’t think…?” Chris didn’t dare finish the sentence.

  “I can’t think it. Everyone would say that I was biased, and it would become about me and him rather than the truth. Just look around. I have to go back to the motor pool and make sure everything is running right there. I’ll call you tonight.” Briggs had stomped out of the room, and Chris had gone to speak to the sherif
f… and it took him mere seconds to spot the problem.

  He’d been running through scenarios in his head ever since leaving the sheriff’s office, and two hours on patrol and then coming to Nanna’s hadn’t dislodged an iota of worry and concern. Finding the house empty rather than the two of them sitting in the living room drinking tea only added to the tension that had been building for hours.

  “Nanna! Pavle!”

  No response.

  Chris picked up the pace, hurrying through the main floor and ready to head upstairs, but he decided to try the backyard first.

  “You are here,” Pavle said to him as soon as he stepped out and into a riot of color. “We make pretty.” He motioned throughout the yard, which had been cleaned up and planted with enough flowers to create a rainbow.

  “He asked for plants, so I stopped at the nursery on my way over. Filled the trunk.” Nanna chuckled from the patio chair in the shade. “It made him happy.”

  Pavle bounded over and handed him a huge bouquet of daffodils and tulips in one of Nanna’s vases. “I pick for you.” He smiled wide. “No weeds.”

  Chris couldn’t help laughing.

  “He insisted that he wanted to pick you flowers, so I told him to take some from the yard.” Nanna had large patches of daffodils and tulips, though most were now in the vase.

  “I show you,” Pavle whispered. “I want you know.”

  Chris set the vase on the table. “I already knew. But thank you.” Sometimes communication between the two of them could be slow and even difficult, but in this moment, everything was clear. He cupped Pavle’s cheeks and kissed him gently. “Are you ready to go home? We have church in the morning.”

  “I made you some dinner to take home,” Nanna said. “I’m going to eat and then go on to bed. It’s been a busy day.” She waved at them, and Chris let go of Pavle and kissed Nanna goodbye.

  “I’ll pull the car around the back, so meet me at the garage door.” Chris went through the house and out to his car. He drove around to the back, and Pavle came out, carrying a small cooler bag. He locked the garage door and was getting into the car as Briggs called. Chris answered it through the car.

  “It’s me and Pavle. I just picked him up and am heading home.” The car speakerphone picked up everything.

  “Hello, Mr. Briggs,” Pavle said politely.

  “Hi, Pavle,” Briggs began before immediately changing the subject. “Did you see what I was talking about?”

  “Yeah. He has Post-it Notes all over his desk. I saw one with what had to be case notes and some with numbers. Who knows what he’s jotting down and leaving lying around? That’s a violation of so many statutes and procedures, it’s ridiculous.” He turned to Pavle. “What if he put notes about Pavle on one of those things?”

  “Exactly. He jotted something down because he wanted to remember it, and then someone came in with roving eyes and found exactly what they were looking for. I even saw what looked like passwords, but I can’t be sure.”

  Chris blew the air out of his lungs in exasperation. “What do we do?” It wasn’t like they could go to the county board with this. They’d be kissing their jobs goodbye, and there was no guarantee that the board would take any action.

  “Nothing for right now. You’ve seen it, and I’ve made sure some people I trust have seen it. Build a case and catch the bastard behind the leaks. If we can get him to spill about the source of his info, then we can go to the board, and they can’t ignore that.”

  This was really sucky, but the sheriff was definitely connected. Though no one seemed to know how at this point.

  “What about our friend in jail?”

  Briggs chuckled. “The DA is throwing the book at him. Every charge they can think of, and the last time I spoke with him, he wasn’t as smug as he was before.”

  “Do you think we might have a shot at getting Pavle’s papers? Give the DA a good word if he cooperates. It will help the man he hurt a great deal.”

  Briggs hummed. “I’ll ask. But what are you thinking? Good cop, bad cop type of thing?”

  “No. I’m thinking, bad cop, bad cop, good cop. We rattle him so bad, he can’t see straight. Then we get Pierre to come in to protect him from both of us. It’ll be beautiful.” Chris grinned. “We can talk about it later, once you talk to the DA and see if he’ll help us.”

  “Consider it done first thing Monday.” Briggs made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a yawn. “Get some rest. I’ll call if I need or see anything.”

  Chris checked his rearview mirror. A car had been behind him for a while. He made a quick turn, and it made the turn as well, so Chris turned again, going down one of the little alleys around the old cemetery and then coming back out. The car didn’t follow. He managed to buzz right across Hanover and continued on.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Thought I was being followed,” Chris said. “I wasn’t. Should I check the car for any hitchhikers?”

  “Had it done while you were on shift. It was clean,” Briggs said. “We’ll do it regularly just in case.” He sighed. “I need to get some sleep. You have a good day off, and I’ll see you on Monday, unless you need me before then.” He hung up, and Chris did the same.

  DINNER WAS quiet, and Chris wondered what was going through Pavle’s mind. He had heard a lot in the car and had to have questions, but he’d said nothing for the longest time.

  “Those people really try to help me? All of them?”

  “Yes. We’re helping other people too. No one works just one case at a time, but yeah. We try to help everyone we can and get the criminals and dangerous people off the streets. Briggs is one of the best.”

  Pavle nodded. “At home, we afraid of police. They always want something and are not so good.” He took a bite of the flaky meat pie that Nanna had made, which was one of Chris’s favorite meals of all time. “But you good and you help.”

  “That the only question you have?” Chris asked.

  Pavle took another bite. “You really get my papers? They tell me I get back when I work off cost to get me here, but never give back.” He set down his fork. “They mean, and I stupid. I should not let them take.”

  “They used you the same way they’ve used other people. The thing we have to do is get those papers so we can request for you to stay here.”

  “What is this bad cop, bad cop, good cop?”

  Chris nodded. “It’s a ploy in order to get Anthony scared enough to tell us where the documents are. We think he might have hidden them or has a safe-deposit box under a false name. The thing is, we won’t know unless he tells us, so we have to make him.”

  “Oh, you make afraid.” Pavle sniffed. “He do to me all the time. I afraid of him, always. He no feed me a lot. I get hungry and lay on the floor because I no can move. If I make happy, he give food and water. Sometimes, he give lots of food. Sometimes he leave me with nothing for days. I never know.” He clenched his fist. “One time I no have food for whole week. Just water. I hurt bad.” Pavle met his gaze, eyes hardening. “You scare him all want. He deserve. Make him wet self.” The anger in Pavle’s voice and the way he held Chris’s gaze told Chris in no uncertain terms that Pavle was serious.

  In Chris’s view it was all right for Pavle to be angry. He’d been expecting it, actually. Pavle needed to come to grips with what was done to him, and being angry at the offender was perfectly natural. “I will do my best.”

  “Hang him up by nuts. Then maybe he get what deserve.” Pavle smiled. “No, nuts too small. You hang by ears—they big enough.” There was no joking in Pavle’s voice at all. “I hate him. He nasty man. I hate them all.” He pushed his chair away, left the table, and went through the back room. The door outside opened and closed.

  Chris checked that Pavle was in the backyard and left him to himself for a few minutes, finishing dinner before going out to sit with Pavle. Chris didn’t say anything. After a few minutes, he offered his hand, and Pavle slipped his fingers into it. That connection was all Chri
s needed to know that Pavle was going to be okay, eventually.

  He sat back, held Pavle’s hand, and looked up at the clouds that thickened and covered the sky. “It’s going to rain.”

  “Yes. Good for flowers,” he mumbled. The sky continued to darken as both night and the storm approached. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and still Pavle sat, staring upward.

  “Come on. We need to go inside.” Chris stood, gathered the cushions off the chairs, and carried them inside. Pavle sat still as the thunder grew louder and the first drops of rain hit the pavement. Chris came back out and took his hand once again, gently tugging Pavle to his feet. He led him into the house just as the sky opened up, drenching everything.

  Pavle stood at the back windows, watching the rain, as Chris locked the door and set the cushions in the laundry room. Normally he’d have stored them in the garage, but there wasn’t enough time. When he returned, Pavle hadn’t moved from his spot. His hands were clenched and his expression as stormy as the weather outside.

  “I hate him. Hate him…. I want him hurt… bad. I want someone punch him and kick him… hard… in nuts.” Pavle shook with rage. “I want him never get out. Want people do to him like he did me.” He quivered all over, fists at his side, hands shaking back and forth. “I want….”

  “You’re entitled to hate him,” Chris said, but Pavle turned away. There was nothing he could do right now, and Pavle didn’t seem to want company. Chris went into the living room and messaged Marie, who called him back. “Pavle is dealing with a lot of anger right now.”

  “Okay. I expected him to get there sooner or later. I’m sure Pavle’s therapist will work through this with him.”

  “Great, because I don’t know what to do.” Chris leaned back, peering through the doorways. Pavle hadn’t moved and was still as rigid and tense as when Chris left him.