COPYRIGHT August 1999 BY: Despoena

THIS STORY IS WRITTEN FOR PLEASURE AND IS NOT INTENDED TO INFRINGE ON ANY PREEXISTING COPYRIGHTS THAT MAY BE VIOLATED. FEEL FREE TO SHARE WITH FRIENDS, BUT NOT FOR PROFIT.

THIS STORY IS FICTIONAL, A WORK OF THE WRITER'S IMAGINATION. THE CHARACTERS AND INCIDENTS USED IN THIS STORY ARE PURELY FICTIONAL AND ARE NOT BASED ON ANY PERSON AND/OR PERSON'S ACTUAL EXPERIENCES.

Title: Allude

Author: Despoena

Part: complete

Rated: slash, sorta

Pairing: Hank Stanley/Jon Baker

Archive: yes

Content Warning

: Author's Notes, Reserve and Restriction: The -ude series, those that have been written and those in the works, are my own ideas, please don't use any parts without permission.

Allude

By Despoena

Jon Baker pushed himself upward, his whole body stiffening as his back arched with the effort. A long throaty groan escaped slowly from his compressed lips.

"Back up," Hank Stanley gasped.

He could feel the perspiration trickling between his shoulders and finding it's way down the long length of his back to collect in the hollow above his tailbone.

"Can't," Jon grunted, his blond head tucked down, his chin pressed to his chest in consternation. "It's in there too tight."

The two men jockeyed for leverage and a long moment passed between them when Hank abruptly collided with Jon's broad chest. The straining CHP officer breathed in the sharp tang of aftershave as his cheek brushed the back of Hank's tousled head.

"Put your foot here and push," Hank suggested throatily. Jon grunted and reached around him to gain purchase on the floor.

"Get it out!" Hank groaned through teeth clenched tightly with effort.

"It's stuck...," Jon hissed sibilantly. Hank writhed and heaved beneath him as Jon adjusted himself against his back.

"Try harder," Hank gasped in desperation. Jon caught his tongue between his teeth concentration before frustration sent his thrashing suddenly to and fro.

"Easy!" Hank cried out in alarm, his body pressed tightly to Jon's. A long moment of mutual heavy breathing passed between them as they struggled together.

"Try twisting it," Hank finally suggested with a throaty rasp forced from between tightened lips.

"It won't go that way!" Jon wailed with a sharp gasp as he tried to pivot.

"Try harder."

The Highway Patrolman's handsome features contorted and his face reddened as he strained backwards and sideways.

Jon's perspiration mingled and coalesced on Hank's arms and slicked down to his palms. One hand suddenly lost it's tenuous purchase and his elbow rocketed back and caught Jon in the ribs. His breath came out in a rush, fanning the hair on the back of Hank's head.

Jon lost control of his footing and with a cry of anguish they toppled and crashed to the floor, flying in separate directions. They sat staring at each other for a long moment, then Hank sighed and leaned his head back against the wall of the shower stall in exhaustion.

Jon reached for a nearby towel and mopped his face as he rubbed his bruised ribs with his free hand.

"You okay there, pal?" Hank asked, remembering his abrupt impact against his friend's chest.

"Yeah, next time, keep those skinny elbows tucked in, all right?" he replied with a grin.

Hank reached down and scooped the wiresnake and the offending hairball out of the slowly receding water.

"Next time, I call a plumber," he vowed vehemently to his companion.

=30=