The Moment
Written by Justine

Tim whips his lean body into the Cavalier and slams the door with a flourish.

Two hours of waiting around the morgue to find out that a fourteen-year old girl was raped and strangled have taken their toll on my partner. Pale fingers caressing his scalp through sleek brown hair tell me he's frazzled and there's no way I can console him.

"You have to slam the door harder to break the glass Tim," I say but I don't think he hears me.

"It never ends Frank. The death…the…the suffering. It's just one murder after another in this town."

"If there wasn't you'd be out of a job." I know the joke isn't funny and Tim doesn’t laugh. In fact, Tim doesn't look at me at all. He's staring out the window his mouth stretched wide in mid-yawn. I know the murder has upset him. He always gets hit bad with kids and not for the first time since this morning I'm glad I'm the primary. "Something wrong?" I want to bite back my words the moment I say them but there's more here than a dead girl and a messed up trip to the morgue. Tim's been bothered all week.

"I'm just tired Frank. That's all."

I don't believe him. I know my partner too well.


"Yeah, tired…now can we drop it?"

His expression is dark and mysterious this evening. A silent threat, a whisper, a denial. Tim doesn't talk to me anymore, he hasn't for a very long time and even though I want to let the issue drop I can't. I'm determined to make him speak to me and force my friend to drive me crazy once again.

"It's Rawls isn't it?" I say and he winces. "He keeping you up late or something?" The sarcasm in my voice is disgusting. What right do I have to judge him? What measure of my own possessive nature do I use to find out every last one of his secrets?

Tim sighs and looks out the window. I notice that he's playing with the pocket of his coat, dipping his elegant fingers in and out of the frayed lining, twisting the loose threads in a nimble ballet and snapping them in anger when the binding gets too tight.

"There is no Rawls anymore Frank." He frowns and licks his large bottom lip. I've always found his tiny gestures amazing. I wonder briefly if I'm the only one who’s ever thought so. The subtle movements of his mouth unnerve me to the core, so soft, so inviting. I want to touch the dark pink lushness with my thumb. I need to prove to myself that his mouth is nothing special, nothing that I cannot live without.

I used to think it was intentional when his tongue darted out for a quick caress before hiding safe and sound in the warm moisture behind his sharp white teeth. But now I know better. It's reaction rather than action, whether to fear, anger or confusion. I've seen him bite his lip in frustration, puff it out in arrogance and pull on it like a little boy lost deep in thought. His lips are wondrous to behold. A flexible extension to a personality seeped in doubt. Sometimes, caught in traffic, bored to tears or horny as a schoolboy, I cannot pull my eyes away. He's the only man I've ever wondered what it would be like to kiss.


Tim's face is guarded and wary. He's wondering how I'll react to the news that his male lover is no longer in the picture. Funny, but I'm wondering the same thing myself.

"As in he dumped you?" I really don't know what to say. I don't feel bad that the relationship no longer exists. In a perverse way I'm elated that Chris is no longer a part of Tim's life. I was getting a little tired of sharing my friend's affections.

"No…that would be too easy…and my life is anything but easy Frank. You know that."

I turn quickly. The bitterness in his voice surprises me. I haven't heard self-pity from Tim since the night he confessed his demons to me in a mental battle of wills and nightmares long ago. Seeing the pain in his soft hazel eyes, I'm still not sure who won.

"What do you want me to say?" That coldness in my heart…where does it come from?

"Forget it."

He wraps his arms across his chest and shivers. Baltimore in January is usually not this cold. The damn heater in the car kicked out earlier and I'm freezing my ass off. I fool with it for a moment before shrugging indifferently. Tim is way too thin and I know he gets chilled easily. I notice his nose is bright red and I decide to make a concession.

"Coffee? It's late but something must be open."

He meets my eyes and nods. I knew he'd agree with me. For the most part, Tim always does. But I hate the careful shading evident behind his wire-rim glasses. My friend is hurting. "You need to talk?"

Tim frowns and shivers again. "I'm okay Frank."

"That's not what I asked you."

He looks right through me and I cringe. Is it such a shock that I am interested in his life? That I am concerned for the man who I consider my best friend and partner?

"Sure, we can talk." Tim seems to consider something and opens his mouth as if to speak. The soft lips stretch wide and then close, ending up in a thick wet pucker that floors me. He doesn't speak but looks at me questioningly.

"What?" I'm nearly gasping. Dammit Tim.

"I'm just wondering…and don't take this the wrong way or nothing…but why all of a sudden are you interested in my life?"

His words are a challenge and I'm not sure I want to accept. The nearness of the slender shoulders in the cramped space of the Cavalier makes me nervous. I want to touch him more than I want to breath. I'm about to speak, to tell him to go to hell, to say that if he doesn't want my advice then fine, when he continues.

"Thanks though Frank."

I nod only once, Mr. Magnanimous, and pull in next to a run down diner. My pride is still intact; I haven't given an inch and yet by some miracle Tim sounds grateful. When I open the door a harsh gust of wind slams my body. It creeps through the wool of my coat and the knit of my sweater inserting icy tendrils against my flesh and causing my heart to beat rapidly. "Shit it's cold."

Tim smiles at me without showing any teeth. Of all his expressions I think this smile is my favorite. Sexy and calm, wise yet innocent. It's a mask more than anything, making Tim seem so much happier than I know he is. But I still love it when he smiles at me this way. His mouth expands long and flat and his eyes sparkle impishly. I wonder if I kiss him how long it would take for me to slide my tongue inside.

We settle quickly into a booth by the window as the waitress saunters over to take our order.

"Just coffee."

"Yeah, and a donut for me…no wait…pie. Whatever you got."

"Sure thing boys." She smirks and walks away. Just two more bad-tipping customers, she probably sees it a hundred times a day. What the hell, it's only coffee and pie. Moments later two steaming cups of java and one wilted piece of lemon meringue are placed before us. Tim dives into the pie with gusto.

I sip my coffee and wait. Four mouthfuls later he sighs contentedly and reclines in the seat. His long legs briefly caress mine under the table as he stretches and Tim pulls away as if struck. I swear I see him shudder. "Sorry," he mumbles in apology and closes his eyes. I'm thankful when he opens them; they're the brightest light in the room. Tim smiles sheepishly and finishes his coffee keeping his legs tucked safely away from mine.

Suddenly I'm intrigued. The electricity of the touch is nothing new. I’ve noticed it plenty of times when the two of us were working together. Leaning side by side in the box, close enough to synchronize each other’s breathing, the sexual lightening is a volatile understatement of masculine need. It's here, after forcing the confession out of a killer that I am most powerful. The excitement, the stress, the sheer sexuality of the moment is impossible to explain to a rookie. And with Tim by my side the feeling increases. After a brutal box session I want very much to fuck him. It’s as simple as that.

But this time it's different because Tim reacted to the connection. Tonight he was vulnerable. Tonight Tim couldn't hide from me. The unspent chemistry between us plays out like a secret game with no words or glances. It's a stage play for proprieties sake when all we really want to do is screw each other's brains out. Tim broke our unspoken arrangement when he took Rawls to bed. Knowledge of the nights I lay awake agonizing over their intimacy like a lover in denial would please him, I know, but frighten him also. I want the ecstasy of a night of sex and madness without the commitment of verbal expression and Tim needs passion and love and promises and forever.

I finish my coffee and nod to the waitress. When I turn my head I notice that the upholstery on Tim's side of the booth is faded and cracking. He's tapping the table nervously, soft patters on the Formica and I am overcome by the urge to grab him and keep him still.


I smile briefly as the waitress pours us both more coffee. Tim's looking at me strangely probably wondering if I've lost my mind. I'm not really sure what to tell him.

"You wanted to talk. So talk." Ah, what a great opening. He's sure gonna want to open up to me now. I frown and take a deep breath. "Sorry Tim. It's been a while since we've spoken one on one."

"Have we ever really talked Frank?" Tim leans forward until his face is inches away and licks his lips. "I mean, really?"

I'm hard instantly. Damn I wish I had a cigarette.

"Cause it seems to me that mainly you do the talking and I do the listening." He grins. "I'm not sure I can handle it any other way."

I have to smile a bit at my image in Tim's eyes. I'm well aware what he thinks of me. I frown. That is, what he used to think of me. So much is different now since he told me about his uncle. Were his eyes always so haunted? Was he always so damn needy? With a sigh I realize the answer is yes. Why the hell didn't I notice before? The pale, insecure young man from five years ago is still here in part. Somewhat better, somewhat worse.

"So why'd you break up?" I wonder if it's a good idea to jump right in but if I wait for Tim to guide the conversation we'll be here until morning.

"There were issues…" he begins and shrugs aimlessly before folding his elegant fingers on the counter. "Break up…right. I'm not sure we were ever together." Tim pauses and I see the misery in his face. This isn't easy for him so I try to be encouraging.

A kind nod and a quiet sip before, "I'm listening." I cringe at the sound of my voice. I’m a Jesuit preacher and he's confessing his sins.

Tim stares and for a moment I think he's gonna decide to forget the whole thing. I'm not sure I even want to know why Rawls is suddenly absent from Tim's life. I feel a joy I haven't felt since the day of their first date and I want to savor it for a while. At that time I thought he was lost to me forever. I shudder. Tim's pain is my stay of execution.

"Sex and love Frank. You know…same old problem for me."

"I take it that means you didn't love him." Ah ha, a clue to the puzzle. Tim's shoulders sag slightly and I feel a twinge of guilt. This man wants to love. This man needs to be loved in return.

"No I didn't." He stares at me quietly. His next words, uttered slow and specific, are a revelation. "But…I wanted him Frank."

My heart is beating faster now. The depth and passion in Tim's hazel eyes are melting my resolve. "And now you don't." I sniff haughtily. "It happens."

He turns away and looks out the window. I follow his eyes and notice it's starting to snow. "You don't understand."

"Enlighten me Tim." The cold is not as bitter as the tone of my voice. "Please."

"It's crazy…I…okay…I slept with him Frank."

I knew…god I knew but the admission hurts more than I ever thought possible. Images of Tim bundled lovingly beneath down quilts and soft sheets while Chris Rawls touches him to arousal invade my thoughts and I push them away quickly and try to remain calm. I have no say in my partner's choice of lover. Tim rubs his eyes; god, he looks tired, and bites his lip nervously. It takes me a while but I finally identify the catch in his voice. I've heard more than my share of guilty sentiments from a lifetime of police work but I have to admit it surprises me that Tim's confession sounds this way. I decide to play it cool. "And what, it wasn't any good?"

Tim frowns. "Whatever. I should have expected this Frank." He fumbles with his spoon before tossing it on the table. "Look, it's stupid." He pauses. "I don't know what I was gonna say anyway." He gets up to leave and for some reason I grab his hand. Tim stares at my face in shock but doesn't move an inch. "Don't."

"Stop running." His hand is ice to my fire and I squeeze hard for balance. There's strength and weakness in this man but I could break him so easily.

Tim frowns. "You know me so well Frank." He flops back in the booth with an exaggerated sigh; his hand still firmly locked within my grasp.

Our closeness feels odd, almost foreign. I'm controlling him with a glance, stroking him with the sure caress of a lover and yet I can only imagine what sweetness and mysteries his lanky body holds.

I turn his hand over and massage his palm. His breath catches in his throat and I hear him moan softly. I rub my thumb lightly across the damp ivory skin and Tim closes his fingers tight to hold me. I gasp at the contact, a searing jolt to my groin that cannot be denied. I want him. God, I want him bad.

Tim bites his bottom lip and stifles an erotic vocal. The simple action hits home. My penis is rock hard and throbbing. When he finally releases, the indentation of perfect teeth is visible on his bruised flesh and I nearly come in my pants. His body shakes and I feel the movement in every fiber of my being. How shocking to realize I'm enjoying his trembles.

Tim has always been mine and I never wanted to share him. Selfish, maybe, but it's who I am and I won't apologize. I want to touch more than his hand. I want to see more than his elegant neck poking up from one of his well-worn ties. I want to bite his nipples until he screams my name and then tender the pain away with a swipe of my tongue. I want to stroke the cascading ripples on his flat belly as my cock imbeds deep inside him.

For a moment neither of us moves and then we both stand up in unison and exit the diner. At the last minute I remember to drop a five-dollar bill on the table. The waitress was right. I'm not much of a tipper but then I have other things on my mind.

We move to the car without speaking and settle in for the ride of a lifetime. His apartment is close and mine is impossible. The need is there, open and raw, unyielding to reason or common sense and somehow we both know how the evening will end. We've put off this act for so long, denied ourselves comfort and craving for an eternity and now it seems mandatory that we complete it.

Tim is looking at the window, his hands in his pockets. When he breathes, vapors of warmth invade the car in a gush but still he remains silent. It's easier without words, I know. Passion doesn't lie. He bites his lip again and closes his eyes. I wonder if Tim is having second thoughts. I'm already on my thirds.

"What were you going to tell me?" I'm not bringing up our tryst; it's going to happen no matter his response but I want him to be comfortable. Considering his history with Rawls, Tim should be more comfortable than I am. "About your break-up?"

He looks momentarily confused, shocked that I could bring up his former lover's name now of all times when we will soon be together. "It can wait Frank."

I nod my response and pull behind his apartment. We exit the car and when I stroke his face he shivers and twists his chin into my hand, full pink lips brushing wet across my palm. His expression smolders in the darkness. He wants me. I've never been so sure of anything else in my life.

He doesn't move when I lean in to kiss him, nor does he open his mouth. My first taste of Tim is sweet and innocent and his wild shudders at this too brief caress make me wonder how his naked body will respond to my lips exploring his more intimate places. I pull away slowly and touch his face.

"Kiss me again, Frank."

This time his eager mouth meets mine half-way and I crush him tight against my chest, slipping my tongue between his teeth until he is kissing me without regret, his lips cushioning each bruising blow as I lick and taste every inch of his moisture. His hand falls delicately between our bodies when we pull apart, his fingers gently strumming across my abdomen as he struggles to restore his composure. He wants to slow down but I know that's impossible. Fighting the overpowering urge to consume his mouth again is hell enough for one night but I adhere to his wishes temporarily and clench my fists in a show of frustration. Tim's eyes find mine and he shudders hungrily. When I lower my fingers to gently skim across the outline of his swollen shaft his groans of agony are music to my ears.

Surprised at my boldness, I grab his hand and lower it to my throbbing groin. Tim's eyes widen as he looks at me, trembling and unsure and I press his hand harder. He leans forward, nearly swaying at the contact and when he regains his balance Tim's expression is unreadable save for equal measures of lust and madness dancing wildly behind intense hazel eyes. I release Tim's hand and he unlocks the door without a word. All the while I'm standing close enough behind him to raise the soft hairs on the back of his neck with each aroused breath I force from my body.

We enter and Tim throws his keys on the table. I close the door softly and wait as he pours himself a shot of whiskey and swallows it. He doesn't offer one to me and I wouldn't accept if he did. The soft outline of Tim's full lips beckon to me in the darkness and he doesn't protest when I confidently remove his coat and shove him hard against the kitchen wall. I grind our hips together, delighting in his welcoming hardness. For a second I'm unsure that I should continue but the hesitation passes immediately when Tim gasps out my name and moans softly in my ear.


I pull his arm harder than I intended and lead him to the bedroom. I'm surprised I know the direction since I really don't think I've ever been in Tim's apartment before. I glance briefly at a large plant in the corner of the living room and wince when I see a shelf filled to bursting with books of all sizes. It makes me sad to imagine the amount of free time my partner has to spend reading.

The bedroom is silhouetted by an outside light, just enough to make out the pale ivory of Tim's skin, and I whimper my arousal when I notice that he is undressing before me, piece by piece, exposing his silky flesh for my pleasure. I approach him so fast I nearly trip over a stool near the bed and he smiles at my overeager libido. I find his nipples and rub firmly, forcing the hardened nubs into his chest with my thumbs as I push him back onto the bed. He stares at me innocently and I can almost swear he's blushing. I bend forward to remove his glasses and he closes his eyes once again. The dim lighting outlines his face, shadowing his eyelashes in hauntingly erotic strokes.

"Look at me Tim." It's odd to hear my voice invade the surreal moment but I cannot deny the need to see his expression much longer. I pull his face upward and caress his breathtaking pout. When Tim opens his eyes, his beauty staggers me and I know that nothing will stop me from doing what I plan to do to this man. Tim shudders when I release him but he doesn't look away.

I watch him swallow hard as I remove my clothes knowing that he wants to touch me. The bed beckons and I climb on next to Tim. I feel no guilt, only raw desire as he reaches for me and guides me down to blanket his trembling body. We are lying face to face, shameless and wanting, and I kiss him. He reaches for my cock and I pull back slightly. It's hard for me not to think of his Uncle and the pain and humiliation that have left Tim wounded. I wonder how it is for him. Does Tim ever really enjoy sex or is the specter of abuse always a tremor in the dark, a vague hiss of a past that can never be forgotten?

His long fingers wrap around me and I squirm deep into his hand. Tim's touch is cool against my skin and I wonder if his violent shivers belong to me or the frigid air in the apartment. I thrust once, then again, but I don't want to come yet. It's way too soon, and I want to fuck him. I take his hand away and circle our fingers together. My mouth claims his in a violent kiss and he groans into my mouth thrusting his slender body hard against my firm muscles. Our stomachs touch, our cocks caress. Tim's writhing is driving me crazy. Each graceful twist of his spine consumes me with desire, each delicate burn of his flesh tasting mine leaves me wanting nothing more than to enter him hard and take up residence in the velvet warmth of his body forever.

He grabs the back of my head and pulls my mouth to his swollen lips locking me in a passionate kiss and wrapping his legs secure around my back. It's feels strange to let Tim take the lead but I allow him this minor advantage knowing full well that soon I will possess him body and soul, sampling every delight that Tim has to offer. The repercussions of tomorrow are meaningless; I'm enflamed with passion today.

I push against him and nearly explode, amazed at the strength of his cock driving hard into my belly. When I break away he gasps, reaching blindly for me in the darkness. He's shuddering mindlessly, wanting my touch, and all I can do is stare at the exquisite need presented before me. I want to take him rough though he deserves gentle. I want to force my way inside his body thrilling as he gasps my name. I want to fill him with my thick cock as his deep moans of pain are alleviated by the wild caress of forbidden ecstasy.

"Frank?" The ragged noise of his breathing makes Tim sound uncertain. I smile gently and reach into the side drawer to fish around for a small tube of lubricant. It's unopened but I make quick work of the wrapping and squeeze a dollop onto the palm of my hand. I coat my throbbing organ generously, careful to cover every inch, and toss the unused portion across the floor.

Briefly I imagine how insane this is. Tim and me rutting like animals in the darkness. But the game has gone on far too long. It's time to put up or shut up; time to make good on the silent promises we've been force-feeding each other for years.

I spread Tim's legs across my thighs and he tenses at my touch and grabs for my hands. The blood is racing to the tip of my cock and I flatten Tim's arms out to his sides, throwing my entire weight upon him. I can hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest and I squeeze my eyes shut to calm my responses.

"It's okay Frank," he says and I release my hold slowly, kissing my way down his body as I sit up and take control once more.

Tim's face is flushed and eager. He's driving me crazy with soft warbling moans, and it arouses me to imagine the snug fit inside him. I need him to be as nervous as I am; I want him shaking and panting and raw with desire. Tim's lips look dry and I lick them soundly, smashing our mouths together in another delirious kiss. I run my hand through his short, sweaty hair and Tim stops moving to stare at me. The question in his eyes is valid. "How far are we gonna take this Frank?" he's asking, offering me a way out of the fire before both of us get burned. He looks delicate, like porcelain and when I rub my thumb across his cheek his ragged groan of, "Please," nearly sets me over the edge.

"Shhh baby." I croon gently. "It's gonna be perfect." Tim nods once and closes his eyes as I start my invasion. I compare the large size of my cock head to the width of his small puckered opening and cringe. There is absolutely no way making love cannot hurt him. Briefly I wish that Tim wasn't so thin and fragile as I eagerly push my length inside. The first thrust is agony, he's so exquisitely tight and I'm so fucking big, but I can't hold back, my body won't let me.

He's opening slowly and it feels fantastic. I pull back, astounded, and watch the head of my cock get sucked deep inside the hot vortex of his body. Tim's eyes shoot open at the swift stroke of pain but I don't pull out. Inch by inch I mount him, not brutal but not gentle either. He groans in agony and pulls me closer, impaling himself on my monstrous erection. Pleasure and pain, it's the nature of our relationship. When my cock is entrenched completely inside him, I stop my movements and allow Tim the chance to breathe. He's trembling and writhing, demanding and giving. I can no longer control my reactions and I pull out to the tip and thrust back in as far as Tim's body will allow. He looks frightened for a moment, hazel eyes cloudy and moist, and I wonder if he knows there is no possible way for me to stop screwing him.

His mouth is entrancing, every curve, every sound. I force my way in deeper to kiss him again, mercilessly chewing his bottom lip and pinching his nipples to perfection. Tim's cock is hard and throbbing, bumping my stomach in vigorous strokes as I crush his pliant body securely beneath me. It's fascinating to see him this way, exposed and wanting, and it scares me how much I hate the thought of anyone else ever touching him this way again. When I shout "Mine!" moments later, Tim does not argue.

I'm fucking steadily now, my movements more secure and confident with each practiced stroke. I wrap his long legs around my waist and he moans at the harsh penetration. Tim's graceful fingers close around his erection and he pulls himself vigorously in time with the pummeling of my cock. I've waited so long for this physical possession; mentally Tim was mine from the start.

It's tight within him and I groan as the heat and suction grip my cock while the slick glide of pre-cum and lube allows me to explore his hot tunnel fully. I press in deeper and feel the muscles of his ass clench to expel me but they are no match for my enthusiasm, no competition for the depth and force of my desire as I tug my sweaty lover closer to kiss and caress.

I stroke his prostate once, then again, and Tim screams loudly clamping his teeth into my shoulder. "Shhh…" I whisper and nibble his ear, "Just take it Tim…that's it." I lower him back to the mattress and plunge into him in earnest. Tim's long body arches against my chest. It hurts him, I know, but he likes it too. He reaches for me blindly and I suckle his shaky fingers into my mouth.

"Oh…oh…oh…" each word gasps soft from Tim's mouth as my cock pounds hard in his body. I bend low for a kiss and Tim meets me wearily, opening on demand and allowing me to ravage his mouth with my lips and tongue before slurping a path to his elegant neck and biting him fiercely. He moans as I suckle his soft skin, shudders wracking his body and transmitting straight to my groin. He pushes against me once, using the last of his strength, and I share the blinding arousal as his orgasm tears through his body with the rising force of a gale wind.

Tim's breathing is practically non-existent and I slam into him hoping for a reaction. For a second I think he's lost consciousness but then he moans quietly and caresses my cheek. It's an intimate gesture, a plea for contact and when I lower my head to kiss him I am greeted by the soft comfort of his open mouth.


I lean against him, blending his semen into both our bellies. Tim is shuddering helplessly and I spread his legs wider to ram my cock home. I pull his pliant body forward and ride him hard as Tim clings to me desperately. I'm close to completion, I can feel it in every nerve of my body and somehow Tim knows it too. He's murmuring my name over and over, holding me tight, and urging me on. His slender frame molds to mine, his vibrant trembles telegraph my senses. We are no longer two people, but one sexually fused creation. Tim is mine; I belong in his body.

"Yes baby…oh god…that's it." His expression is so fevered I wonder if he hears a single word I say. Tim moans loud and strong and drapes my arm in kisses. When he looks at me again I'm exhilarated by the longing and desire reflected in his eyes, and shocked by the brief glimpse of love he hopelessly tries to cover.

His hands grip the back of my shoulders for support as I screw my shaft tight within him. I don't want this magic to end; I want to remain here forever. I wonder how it feels for my lover, for Tim, to be stretched so wide, so open by my thick, heavy cock. The penetration is deep, so much deeper than I imagined. There's not a free inch of space in Tim's body. His flesh surrounds my throbbing length, giving me all, yet still I want more. My balls contract, my groin throbs, and I pound into him, spewing my load in fast heavy gushes as Tim groans unintelligible words of passion. His muscles milk every last drop of fluid from my cock and I collapse on top of him, exhausted, heaving, and more fully satisfied than I've ever been in my life.

Tim flinches at the popping sound when I roll away and out of his body. Now that it's over I feel strange. I stare at his drowsy eyes and swollen mouth with a vague premonition and a tingle in my cock and know without a doubt that if I don't get away from him soon I'll be fucking him again in minutes. He opens his eyes and observes me wearily. I have absolutely no idea what to say, so I kiss him slowly, aroused all over again by the soft wanting sigh that escapes from his well used lips.

My mouth roams across his neck and when I suckle Tim’s Adam’s apple his fevered groans vibrate in soft hums and light puffs of air across my face. Tim's hands touch me gently, soothing gestures and quiet pleasures, and I gather him close against me determined to taste every inch of his ivory skin. I want to tell him how special this night has been but I don't have the guts for such intimate honesty. I stroke his long arm and rub my toes against his ankle. He moans contentedly and lays his head upon my chest. I don't want to spoil the delicate afterglow of the moment but duty calls. There's work to be done, murders to solve. I raise Tim's chin to search out his eyes and smile at the sleepy face and tousled hair of my partner.


“Frank,” he responds neutrally.

I’ve just made love to Tim, how odd that I don’t feel awkward. There’s something reassuring about the way he’s staring at me, open and vulnerable but without regret. I stand up and stretch and watch him turn onto his belly. He looks beautiful but I don’t tell him. The now familiar glide of his slender thighs caressing the cotton sheet excite me wickedly and I have to stop myself from climbing on top of him and diving in once again.

“I think we should talk to the cousin. He knows more than he’s saying.” Tim's voice still sounds husky.

“They always do.” I know I’m hesitating. Tim needs me to say more.

He smiles my favorite smile and turns away. “Get a shower Frank,” Tim mumbles without a trace of doubt in his voice.

I sit on the edge of the bed and stroke the back of one impossibly long leg. I notice Tim stiffen but he doesn’t turn around. I’m not really concerned. This might be easier if I can’t see his face.

“Are you all right?”

For a moment silence then, “You didn’t hurt me Frank.”

“Are you sure?” I stop stroking and he turns to face me. "I need to know this doesn't change things between us." My arrogance it astounding. How easy to turn the whole thing back to me.

He nods slowly, "Whatever you say Frank."

"Good, because it's not like we're in love with each other or anything." I'm drowning but Tim refuses to throw me a line. "We're friends," I amend casually ignoring the silent thump of Tim's heart breaking in the darkness. "Tim?"

"Best friends." His voice is barely a whisper but I hear him loud and clear. I've hurt him with my words after pleasuring him with my actions.

"Do you want to talk about this?" I don't know what frightens me more, Tim's sadness or silence. His expression is suddenly accusing. Hey, I'm not the one who undressed first and I won't let him make me feel guilty. When Tim doesn't answer I continue. "I thought that was wonderful. Thank you."

"Thank you." Tim toys with the words. "Thank you…why… you're welcome Frank." He gets off the bed in a flash and moves past me. "I changed my mind. I'm gonna shower first."

Suddenly I'm angry. What happened between us was intense, breathtaking even, something I will remember for the rest of my life. The more I sit, the more I stew. Tim's indifference stings and I can’t let it go. I follow him into the bathroom and pull back the shower curtain. It's a bold move but not when you consider the moves I made earlier.

Tim stares at me stunned as steaming water cascades alluringly across his body. It drizzles down his face, leaping over his lips and chin. My eyes follow the wet path hungrily across his flat stomach and between his thighs. I successfully fight back the urge to touch him. "Why are you so angry?"

Tim trembles slightly but doesn't look away. "I'm not angry Frank." He reaches for the soap but I grab his arm. "Let go."

"Talk to me."

"Not here Frank, okay?" He sighs. "Don't you find this all a little strange?" Tim pulls away and this time I release him.

"Strange would not be the word I would use."

"You wouldn't? Come on." He shuts off the shower, grabs a towel and wraps it around his slim waist. "We had sex Frank, you and me in my bed. You fucked me and I liked it. In fact I more than liked it Frank. It was…ah…I don't know…freakin' fantastic. Now, what do you think that means, huh?"

I catch a drop of water before it rolls off his bottom lip and Tim closes his eyes. I'm not sure how to respond to such honesty. I'm not gay and bisexual seems like such a cop-out. I love my wife, my kids and Tim. "I care about you."

Tim nods in agreement.

I stroke his arm and he jumps. Why the hell can't I keep my hands off him? "Are you sorry?"

"I don't regret what happened but I can't help thinking we made a mistake Frank." Tim moves out of the bathroom and promptly sneezes three times. The bedroom is an ice-box and he's dripping water on the rug. Tim puts on his glasses and turns to me.

"We both know we can't do this again." Even as I say the words I don't mean them. One glance at Tim, goose-bumped and trembling makes my cock start to throb.

"Yes…I know that…but…I…" he lowers his eyes. "I wanna Frank." I hate the way the vulnerable expression on his face makes me feel. I hate even more that I agree with him. Tim flops on the bed with a sigh.

"Me too."

Tim stares for a moment, then smiles. The admission seems to satisfy him. He's glad he's not the only one who realizes we made more than love tonight.

When I come out of the shower I find him in the kitchen. The bed sheets have already been changed.

"You should stay here. I can handle the paperwork."

Tim looks up surprised, "Don't do this to me Frank. You wouldn't let me off the hook any other time so don't be nice 'cause you screwed me."

"I just meant…" but I don't get a chance to finish.

"Yeah, I know what you meant." He stands, slides his long body into his coat and gets in my face. "Acting like nothing happened between us is gonna be rough but I can do it. Trying to hide this hickey's gonna be hell but I'll manage as long as Munch doesn't get a glimpse. But if you start being nice to me all of a sudden I'm gonna lose it." Tim shudders. "Don't even go there Frank."

I have to smile as I follow him out to the car. Idly I realize we never finished our conversation from nearly two hours earlier. Tim never told me what was bothering him.

"It's too late for the cousin. We'll see him tomorrow morning." I'm searching but Tim doesn't bite.

Tim groans. "Gee's not gonna like that."

"What can we do?" I smile. "I don't think our excuse is acceptable."

Tim sneezes again and looks in his pockets for gloves. He searches for a while then settles for tucking his hands under his arms.

I smirk. "If I offered you mine, you'd say I was being NICE to you."

"I don't need your gloves Frank." Tim sneezes again.

"Good, you're not getting them."

Our rapport makes me grin but I don't let him see. I wonder how much I really want things back to normal. I can't stop thinking about the sounds Tim made when he came; the feel of his slender fingers gently squeezing my cock; his sweaty body surrendering all control. I imagine myself buried deep inside him, holding tight to his hips and riding him hard and I swallow.

This is no good. I won't be getting any sleep tonight.

"Earlier you wanted to talk about something. We have time now."

Tim shrugs the question away. "I'm tired Frank," he says by way of answer.

I don't argue and when we pull in next to the Station he unexpectedly grabs my coat. I stare into the troubled depths of his hazel eyes and wait but Tim doesn't say a word. Hot breath covers my face and for a moment I'm afraid he's going to kiss me. There's something very sexy about the way Tim's invading my space, something arousing about his look of desperation.

"Frank…I can't…" he starts plaintively but then reconsiders and releases me. "I'm sorry."

"Are you going to be okay in there? If you're not Tim then you better go home right now. I have no desire to play clean-up crew at this late hour." He flinches and moves away, his face once again a mask.

"I wish I could Frank but I need a bit more than ten minutes."

"Ten minutes? Tim, we had sex over an hour ago."

"Whatever." He frowns. "You can do this with no problem? Just go in there and play…"

"With no problem whatsoever." I interrupt. "It was just sex Tim."

Why the hell don't I just take out my gun and shoot him? The look on my friend's face says he'd rather be dead. I sigh heavily before continuing.

"That didn't come out right. It was special Tim, but you've had sex with a man before."

"But you're my partner Frank. You're my friend."

I hate the pain in his voice. I don't want to hurt him anymore but nor do I want to give him false hope that what happened between us is the norm rather than the exception. My feelings for Tim run deep. The fine line between friends and lovers has been erased and keeping Tim in my bed, no matter how delightful, would only end up hurting the both of us.

"I don't want you reading anything more into this than just one time."

He swallows, stunned but accepting and I wonder if it's possible for me to feel any worse than I do at this moment. Tim opens the car door without a word. "Well, you're right Frank. You don't have to worry about me."

Ah Tim, but I do worry. I should have never let it go this far.

The next hour screams by in a blur. Tim and I barely speak but that's not unusual; the squad is used to our squabbles by now. Besides, it's late, and with the exception of Laura Ballard, who's mulling over a file, there's a whole new shift on schedule. I breathe a sigh of relief. By tomorrow Tim will be okay. My partner's never let me down yet.

"Hey Tim, do you remember the Hizney murder?" Ballard walks over to Tim and taps him on the shoulder.

"Huh? What?" Tim sits up quickly and I decide to take over.

"The guy who murdered his sister?" I sit on the edge of Tim's desk and he trembles. His face is flushed and his lips are still swollen. All he needs is a "Frank fucked me" sign around his neck and the picture would be complete.

"Hizney. What about it?" Tim looks my way.

Ballard waves a hand in front of his face and ignores the response. "You okay Bayliss? You look strange, sick or something."

"He looks good to me." I want to add so much more but mere words can't express what I'm feeling.

"No, he looks tired…but wait…it's something more." Ballard touches Tim's forehead and I feel a pang of envy at the instant caress. "You my friend have a touch of fever."

Tim pulls away saying, "I'm fine Laura, really," before leaving the room.

She shrugs and goes back to her file. "I have aspirin Tim, if you need them."

The mystery behind the Hizney case doesn't even bother me. I need to follow Tim and see if he's okay, to press my lips against his forehead and feel his heat upon my mouth. I find him in the bathroom splashing cold water on his face. The scattering of droplets on his cheekbone hazard images of the shower I watched him take earlier and I stifle a groan as my pants start to tighten. What the hell is this man doing to me?

"Don't say it Frank." He wipes his hands on a towel and glares. I love to see the fire light his eyes.

"Look, I don't know what you thought I was or was not going to say but I only came in here to tell you I'm leaving." I open the door. "Get your ass in the car and I'll give you a lift. It's too cold to walk home."

When we pull up in front of his apartment Tim doesn't move. "You think I'm a moron Frank?"

"Moron? Not today." My joke falls flat again but when I squeeze his shoulder tight he shudders. The way Tim responds to me is delightful. "What’s wrong?"

Tim looks as if he wants to answer but something is holding him back. He bites his lip hard and a small crimson stain seeps onto his chin. His eyes are focused straight ahead, but I have no idea where his mind is. I want to tell Tim everything is going to be okay, that no matter what happened between us we're still friends, more than friends really, and I'll always be there when he needs me, but I don't. Instead I turn his face in my direction and touch him softly on the cheek.

"You were right about Chris Frank. I didn't love him." He cringes. "We made love…I let him have me…but it wasn't love Frank. No matter how much I wanted it to be." Tim swallows hard. "It was sex…good sex… but I felt dirty."

I silently curse his Uncle for the tremor in Tim's voice and wonder if my touch made him feel the same way. He must be reading my thoughts because suddenly his expression lightens and he offers me a weak smile. "It was different with you Frank. It felt so good…so right or something." He trembles violently. "God, I wish you were my first."

The pieces of the puzzle slowly start to take shape. Tim loves me, Tim's in love with me and I can't honestly say it's a surprise.

I ask him, "How long?" and he shakes his head sadly.

"Does it matter Frank?"

He gets out of the car and I follow him inside his apartment. Once the door is shut I plaster my body against his and kiss his full mouth passionately. Tim does not deny my assault and wraps his arms around my back to pull me closer. My confused but aroused body decides to ignore my brain's sound advice and I fumble with the zipper of his pants and free his raging erection. He moans when I touch him and thrusts hard into my hand. I quickly unzip my slacks and pound violently against him, our cocks slicked with pre-cum, our bodies consumed by lust. I don't have time to be naked; I want completion now.

I tear off Tim's coat and jacket but keep my mouth suctioned to his eager lips. The friction of his stiff penis rubbing wildly against mine is astonishing. I pull at his shirt and jerk my cock into his belly button, determined to fuck my way straight to oblivion. Tim is moaning uncontrollably, his haunting melody echoing loudly in the quiet room. I grab his face and kiss him harder; ripping my tongue to the back of his throat as his breath circulates within my body. Tim's hands are fumbling with my shirt, his fingers cold and desperate on my heated skin and for a moment I'm struck by the sheer brutality of what I want to do to him.

Sex means so much to Tim and he loves me. Tim is fucking in love with me and I'm using his beautiful body as an outlet for my primitive desires. Using and enjoying him, taking his love and twisting it into knots, knowing full well that what I offer in return can never measure up to the unreachable fantasy buried deep inside Tim's soul. And yet I do love him. I love his strength and his gestures and his face and his heart. I can't imagine my life without Tim in it and though we've only had sex once, I know it will be impossible for me to live without the sweet sound of his soft moans and the wild intensity of his fragile caresses.

Tim flings his body against mine and I tug his shirt down over his shoulders effectively trapping his arms from any further exploration. He's aroused beyond all comprehension but I see the trust mirrored deep in his eyes and it moves me. Suddenly I'm very protective; Tim's life has held so many betrayals. I won't let anyone hurt this man -- not even me. I lay my head upon Tim's shoulder and breathe deeply. His hair is damp and I can smell the scent of sweat and semen intermingling on his soft skin. When I exhale soft goose-bumps dot his flesh and trembles erupt throughout his entire body.


I wrap my fingers around his throbbing cock and tug gently at first, then faster, picking up the pace and adding my own swollen flesh to the tussle. I release Tim and he groans into my ear when I grind our bodies together. It's crazy I know, to want him with such passion. Six years without an intimate physical connection and I'm lost after one ferocious bout of lovemaking. I shove my hand between his legs and Tim sags boneless against me. His eyes are closed and his breathing ragged. God I want to touch him so bad. I squeeze his cock and fondle him fiercely. Never before have I felt such a strong sense of possession for another human being. I slam his body back against the wall and, cock to cock, I continue my relentless pounding.

"Yes Tim…yes!'

I'm screaming now and his moans are just as loud. I want to be inside him but I know I'll never last until the bedroom. Instead I settle for the insane friction of our mutual orgasm as we rub our bodies together and come in thick spurts coating naked thighs and bellies.

Tim's sobbing on my shoulder, holding me tight in a death grip and I know if one of us moves the other will collapse without support. I pull him close to calm his tremors and Tim does not resist. He's shuddering so beautifully it seems a shame to make him stop. Our mouths meet in a fleeting kiss and then it's just hugs and murmurs, gasps and shudders as we untangle our limbs, make our way to the living room and collapse upon the sofa. Tim mumbles my name through swollen lips and I kiss him tenderly until I have to break for air. He belongs to me now, completely, exquisite and endearing, sensual and demanding.

I lay my head on Tim's arm and toy mindlessly with his nipple, stretching the pink nub away from his body and snapping it back into place. Neither of us speaks; I don't know what to say. I'm not sure what happened here tonight and it scares me to death. My mind reaches for control and finds only desire. Tim strokes my face; I grab his hand and squeeze hard. The only feeling I understand is exhaustion. I want to shout at him and shake him; do anything at all to expel him from my thoughts but it's impossible. My emotions are no more Tim's fault than his are that he loves me.

"Are you okay?" I say and Tim smiles wearily.

"I'll be fine Frank."

He moves in for a kiss and I respond immediately pressing my tongue inside and ravaging the top of his mouth. I love the way his slender body molds to mine while his delicate fingers remain on the couch and my arms encircle him possessively. He's trapped in my embrace, unable to move unless I release him, helpless to my every whim and gesture. I flush with an erotic thrill at the thought of controlling my partner this way but by the sounds of his moans and whimpers Tim doesn’t mind being a prisoner.

I wonder what he's thinking but I don't ask. My mind is already on the morning and how we'll react to each other in the light of day, on the job, among our co-workers. I can't imagine us as partners and lovers, yet the need is there, the passion we experienced cannot be denied. Tim is watching my fingers deftly skim across his chest and he manages a sigh of contentment as he moves closer.

It's late but I can't bear to pull myself away from his well-used body. I want to take him in my arms and kiss him until the dawn, exploring every last inch of his streamlined elegance. I wish I could say I was confused but I'm not. Tim has always been a part of me and I see no reason for that to ever change.

The only thing that worries me is the timing. Why now, after six years of being the best of partners and friends, does our relationship enter a physical level? I look at Tim warily sure he's wondering the same thing.

"Don't make me think about tomorrow Frank," Tim yawns twice in succession.

"We can't ignore it." I stroke his thigh and Tim stretches gloriously from head to toe. My cock stirs hopefully. "Tonight it was just Ballard and you were a mess." I notice he's wearing his glasses. How the hell did he ever manage to keep them on?

"I'll be better Frank. I just need a little time." He yawns again and when he moves away it hurts how much I miss his warmth.

"You got five hours Tim."

Tim nods slowly. "Are we gonna talk this to death?"

"Do you want to?"

"What happened between us happened Frank and I'm not sure why…but I wanted you…I know that. It's crazy okay, but as for regrets…" Hazel eyes drill straight into my soul, "No."

"We had sex Tim." Why don't I tell him something he doesn't know? "You and me. We had sex twice." The content of my words arouses me completely. I squeeze my finger in his belly button and Tim gasps. I notice the slight bruising on his hips for the first time and recoil in shock. He notices my expression and winces.

"I'm sore Frank. But it's a good sore."

I nod slowly trying to understand why he's acting so unfazed when I suddenly feel so guilty. I glance at the large hickey on his neck and moan. Tim reaches for my hand and presses gently.

"It's okay. Honest." He raises my hand to his lips and kisses softly. "I told you I was tired four hours ago Frank. I'm exhausted now."

He releases my hand and I realize I'm trembling. There are absolutely no words to express what I'm feeling right now. Guilt, desire, anger and love: all valid emotions conflicting inside my heart and soul. Just sex? I don't think so. The passion's too intense, the connection too strong. What I have with Tim is more than sex, more than mere desire and friendship. Suddenly I know I have to leave and I stand up quickly to search for my clothes. When I return to the parlor Tim is lying on his side staring at me thoughtfully. I drape a tattered afghan casually across his bare shoulders and Tim smiles shyly. He's removed his glasses and the intense vulnerability is stinging.

"Good night Frank."

I kiss him lightly on the forehead and Tim turns over.

He doesn't ask me to stay.

The end.

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