Three minutes in either direction can make the difference between a successful bust and a shoot out. Between walking away to go home, and walking away as a hostage with a gun in your back. Not bothering to express with either his face or words his opinion of the DEA idiots who shouted "Freeze!" those crucial three minutes too early, Jim kept his hands where Anderson could see them and let himself be prodded hurriedly toward the medical offices at the back of the warehouse complex.
Behind them gunfire echoed sporadically between Roarke's people and his, and if it hadn't been for Anderson, all Jim would have had to do to add his own was turn around. The DEA and PD could have used him. They had Roarke pinned, but it didn't look as if either side had a definitive upper hand. Without meaning to he hesitated a step, but Anderson nudged him dispassionately with the gun. "Save it. You only need to be alive to be useful to me. What condition you're in is up for grabs."
Shrugging, Jim told him calmly, "Easy, Anderson. I know you're too professional to be interested in anything but getting out of this with as little damage to yourself as possible."
They stopped at the door of the medical offices, and Anderson ordered, "Hands behind you." Efficiently he cuffed Jim, then ushered him in. "Still having trouble believing *you're* not. If I hadn't heard that guy ID you myself... you have to be at least ex-military, right?" At Jim's non-committal grunt, he motioned his prisoner toward one corner of the office and stationed himself by the door. "Where's your playmate?"
Inwardly cursing that Blair had been trapped by those three minutes as well, Jim nodded at the pile of bedding he had sat beside. "Crashed. He was half out of it before we even finished." His tone was resigned, even rueful, but he heard Sandburg's snort of amusement. "Want me to wake him?"
Anderson stalked over to give Blair a cursory check, but he was curled into a loose ball, face half hidden in his arms. With his tattered and semen-stained clothing, curls exploding every where, and one shoelace untied, Sandburg looked like a debauched child and about as dangerous. Clearly letting that impression and the one the clever man had given him earlier unconsciously influence him, Anderson decided, "Why bother? Don't have to watch him this way."
He went back to the door and carefully peeked through the blinds. "If Roarke's the one that takes the fall here, you might want to punch that DEA guy. He's really screwing up this operation. I don't think he even knows I'm behind his lines."
"Hope I get a chance to," Jim told him frankly, hiding his relief at his partner's dismissal. "You gonna use me for a shield or a bargaining chip? "The question was to keep the mercenary's attention off Blair as he stealthily slipped a hand behind Jim to pick the lock on the cuffs. Jim met his half-lidded eyes, then meaningfully let his own trail down to his breast pocket where he had put the LSD tabs earlier. Blair's eyes widened in dismay and understanding; okay, it wasn't much of a weapon, but it was *something.*
"You *are* a cool one," Anderson said admiringly, oblivious to the partner's by-play. With exaggerated care, he moved under another window, then lifted its blinds. "Whatever works. You know your people. Best option?"
Pretending to think, Jim twisted his hands in Blair's grip to let him know the cuffs were loose enough, then he settled imperceptibly back against the wall to wait. "Guess it depends on how long the stalemate lasts. If you lay low long enough, you might be able to walk away just by knocking out the cop doing the mop up."
Anderson shook his head. "Roarke's too much of a business man to let the shooting go on for too long. Sooner or later he'll decide it's better for the lawyers to handle matters in court, and he'll negotiate a surrender. Since he'll want to get his story straight with his men and dispose of the dead weight, he'll have the DEA pull everyone out before he does." He grinned humorlessly at Jim. "Bet you know the rest of the story."
"You want in on his deal, give me up to earn it, and I'll be a casualty of the firefight," Jim recited flatly.
"Man has to discourage undercover cops *some* way," Anderson agreed bluntly. "Not to mention using you as an example to his own people that turning on him would not be wise."
Again Jim shrugged. "Knew the risks." And he had; they simply hadn't been as high when he volunteered to go in. It took an effort not to glance at Blair, or to ask Anderson the fate of his other 'hostage." Harmless or not, even a party boy could be a witness. At the moment it looked as though the best thing to do was to listen for the negotiations outside to begin and make his own move then.
Trying to stay loose, he shifted in his seat, ignoring Anderson's sardonic glance. Of course the mercenary was expecting him to try something sooner or later; the trick would be waiting until Anderson was focused enough on events outside to give Jim a chance. At that small action though, Blair feigned stirring, snorting a little as if he might wake. He tossed onto his back, showing off his half-bare stomach, scratched at it, and stretched enticingly. He opened his seemingly drugged eyes to smile at Jim. "Hey, man, sorry I crashed on you," he mumbled.
Trying to convey a personal warning under his soft words, Jim murmured, "No prob; we can always party some more later. Why don't you finish sleeping it off?"
To his surprise Sandburg limberly swirled out of his nest and onto Jim's lap, snuggling into it obscenely. "Cause fuckin' feels like *forever* when you're stoned," he giggled.
Sandburg giggling? Hiding an honest desire to shake him and afraid of what that maniacal mind had come up with, Jim put a bit of a growl into his voice. "Later, Wild Thing."
"Awwww," Blair pouted and rubbed his face onto Jim's chest, using the movement to hide plucking out the tabs of LSD with his teeth and dropping them into a waiting hand curled in his lap. "Come on, Big Guy, and I *do* mean Big Guy. I'm *dying* to see how much of that monster dick I can take." Teasingly, coaxingly he ran his hands over Jim's shoulders and arms, then drew back in mock bewilderment. "Cuffs? You kinky that way?"
From the door Anderson spoke up, his voice a few notes too deep. "Been a change or two while you were out, pretty boy."
Jumping as if startled, Blair swiveled on Jim's lap, digging a barely covered backside onto his partner's awakening dick. "Hey!" He blinked blearily, rubbed at his face with both fists like a youngster, then smiled angelically. "I 'member you. Ready for your turn?"
He clambered to his feet, and with a saucy sway to his hips, leisurely strolled over to the mercenary as if completely blind to the gun half-aimed at him. "What c'n I do for you, handsome? Mouth? Ass?" Hypnotized, Anderson let Sandburg get close enough to lean in and run a single teasing finger straight up from belt buckle to the older man's slightly gaping mouth. Dipping his finger tip into the moist well, Blair mimicked sexual thrusting and cooed, "Maybe you'd like to use one end while studly over there uses the other?"
With an all over shake, Anderson came out of it and gently shoved Blair toward Jim. "Tempted as I am, pretty boy, now is *not* a good time. Sit there with the nice man and stay out of my way and nothing bad will happen to that very appealing body of yours, okay?"
Taking the push with good humor, Blair lowered his lashes and peeked from under them coyly. "Now is *always* a good time. Haven't you ever heard of gather ye rosebuds while ye may?"
"Go." There was more authority in Anderson's word this time, and he gestured with the gun. Making a pretty little face of disappointment, Blair did as he was told and curled back up into Jim's lap.
Resisting the urge to applaud the outstanding performance, Jim indulged himself by nuzzling at his partner's ear and whispering, "Tease. Flirt. Sneak. How long do you think it will take for the LSD to kick in?"
"No confidences, gentlemen," Anderson ordered sharply.
Giggling again, a sound Jim would have sworn his partner was incapable of making, Blair rubbed himself over Jim's chest. "He just told me that if you wouldn't do me, he'd be glad to keep me busy since we've got some time on our hands."
For the first time Anderson's face showed something unpleasant, but only briefly, then he grinned again. "So cops make you hot, Wild Thing?"
Blair froze at that, and he pulled away to look back and forth between the two men in concern. "Cop?" As if on cue, a brief flurry of gunshots reminded Jim of the battle outside, and he tensed. That and the noise made the lively bundle on his lap scuttle back into his nest and repeat accusingly, "Cop?"
Miming admission and exasperation with a sideways tilt of his head, Jim admitted it. "Yeah. But you didn't have to worry about it, my little guppy. You're not even big enough to be bait for what I was after."
"And now it's gone all wrong?" More shots were all the answer needed and Blair collapsed on himself wailing. "Oh, man? Oh, man, oh, man, oh man!"
Giving into an urge to comfort him, knowing Blair's distress wasn't as much of an act as he wished, Jim cajoled, "Hey, it's not as bad as that. Really. He," and Jim nodded at Anderson, "won't hurt you unless he has to. Doesn't believe in wasting a nice piece of ass."
Lifting a foot, Jim carefully prodded at Blair's folded over body. "Come on, baby. I already know you don't mind taking a risk or two or you wouldn't like partying so much. Come on, let me see those big blues of yours again. *Much* nicer to think about than what *might* happen."
Apparently at Jim's urging, at bit at a time, Blair blossomed out of his crunch, giving Jim a watery smile. "You mean it? It's not all hopelessly screwed up?"
"I mean it," Jim swore earnestly. He put his feet flat on the floor, knees up and spread invitingly. "Now get over here, Beautiful, and provide some distraction, okay?"
Brightening, Blair did as requested and planted himself between Jim's legs, wrapping both arms around Jim's waist while nuzzling his face on Jim's belly. Anderson, who had been listening and watching their by-play with undisguised lechery, hissed in a breath. "Now that, friend," he muttered, half to himself, "is not such a bad idea. Keep you out of trouble until they resolve things outside."
That reminder sent Jim back to eavesdropping on the battle on the other side of the walls, and the news would have put all of Anderson's contingency plans in the garbage if the merc knew it. Roarke was down, accidentally shot by his own people, leaving his men to vye for leadership amongst themselves. Surrender had become very unlikely. Not that the cops were handling the gun fight much better. From what Jim could tell, the DEA commander and Simon were nearly at blows over how to handle the entire situation.
It would be best, Jim decided, if he could keep Anderson's attention in here, preferably in his pants, until the other man began tripping. With that in mind, Jim shot the mercenary the hottest look he could manage, and with Blair tucked up against him so invitingly, he *knew* a volcano would reach for the air conditioner at the heat in it. "Sounds like a plan to me," he agreed, voice husky and dark. "You want to catch or pitch? I don't normally offer the last, but," and tried to convey his acceptance of the circumstances with a rattle of his loosened cuffs, "as the man said, have what fun you can while you can."
Glancing at the windows as if to jog his memory, Anderson licked dry lips and drifted close. "Un, uh, soldier," he denied with real regret. "Unless you're out cold, I don't trust you enough to get that close. Tell you what, though, if you and your playmate want to amuse yourselves, I won't object."
Lowering his head, Jim hid his immediate rejection of that. The stink of arousal had been pouring off Anderson for sometime, but his own suggestion sent off a fresh wave of it over Jim. They'd obviously accidentally hit a major button for the crook; he just didn't know if he could use Blair and their new relationship that way.
"In fact," Anderson went on, seeming not to notice Jim's reluctance, "I'm having trouble believing that tiny ass can take on that fucking huge dick of yours. And you know what they say about seeing is believing..."
"You just gonna watch?" Blair complained. "That's no fun."
"To each their own. Now, you seem to be an open-minded kind of guy. Surely you don't have a problem with putting on a little show for me?" Anderson's face got nasty, though again for only a second. "You'd better not have a problem with it, or I can find *other* ways to entertain myself with you." The menace in him was suddenly clear; he hardly needed the emphasis of tapping his gun against his thigh.
"Hey, no big deal, all right? Just trying to clear the air here," Blair assured him quickly. He straightened, hands going to his zip. "Any specific requests?"
"What if I have a problem with it?" Jim snapped, trying to put some distance between him and Blair. "Being stared at while I'm trying to get off doesn't trip *my* trigger!"
"Don't worry about it; if your Wild Thing there is half as talented as he looks, you'll forget all about me," Anderson smirked.
Caught in his own trap, Jim stifled a snarl, which added to Anderson's amusement.
"Hey, s'okay, Big Guy," Blair purred, hands suddenly busy on Jim's shirt buttons. With his hair veiling his face from Anderson, he let Jim see that he *was* okay with it, if not exactly pleased. "Not my idea of a first time," he added only for Jim. "But it's better than not at all, and I don't like the way this guy is beginning to unravel."
"Yes," Jim agreed, almost as quietly. With that he savagely took Blair's mouth, unable to resist any longer. His lover gave as good as he got, opening to him instantly with a throaty moan of welcome. Deliberately Jim filled his mind with the myriad of sensory impressions from the lithe body fitted against his own: hot hands skimming over his chest, delicate whirl of curls on his face and neck, sweet herbal/musk/sex fragrance, burning taste of arousal, blood racing and pounding heart. When Blair reached the top catch on his slacks, Jim was more than ready, and his cock practically leaped into Blair's waiting hands.
He cried out, Blair eating it hungrily, and thrust gratefully into the double grasp on him. "Good," he muttered gutturally into their kiss, sucking in a huge breath. "So good."
"Slow down, lover," Blair answered, not letting up on his hold. "We're just starting."
With another cry, pained this time, Jim stopped his rocking. "Now!" He demanded. "God, now!"
"Easy, easy," Blair soothed, mouth wandering down a sharply defined jaw and onto a corded neck. "You're going to get what you need. Relax, let me do the driving."
Grunting with reaction to the words whispered against his skin and to Blair's ministrations, Jim dropped his head back onto the wall and found the will to surrender to his lover. As if that were a signal he'd been waiting for, Blair fastened onto an achingly erect nipple and drew it into his mouth. Wordlessly shouting, Jim surged into the contact, shamelessly arching his back to heighten it. Murmuring his approval, Blair moved to the other bud, treating it with equally loving skill.
From under his lashes Jim saw Blair reach out and burrow into the bedding next to them, triumphantly pulling a box of Astroglide from it. From across the room he heard Anderson breathe, "Oh, yeah," and he dared a glimpse at the merc. Gun dropped to his side, he was rubbing at himself through his pants, matching Blair's hand on Jim. He was still too far away for Jim to try a tackle, even as absorbed as he was in his peep show.
All Jim could do was hope that his partner's quick thinking had come up with a way to entice him closer. Savoring the wet darting stabs of Blair's tongue onto his body, Jim groaned a protest when the pumping on him stopped. "Sh, sh," Blair whispered, "You're going to love this." With no more warning than that, he devoured the head of Jim's cock.
Helplessly, moaning harshly, Jim drove himself upward, trying to bury himself in Blair's throat. Wonderful as that was, the sight of that mad tangle of locks flung over his groin, Blair's head bobbing up and down on him, taking as much as he could, nearly drove Jim over the edge. A flash of motion drew his eyes away; furtively, under the concealing fabric of his jeans, Blair was opening and lubing himself. Through the tear just under one curved cheek Jim could see a flicker of fingers as they plunged in and out of the hidden pucker.
Wildly Jim moaned a warning and forced himself back to stillness. "Give it to me," he ordered hoarsely. "Need you, need you now."
Whimpering, Blair released his mouthful and wheeled around on his knees so that his rear was practically in Jim's face. Tempted, Jim bent to bite at the appetizing mound, but Blair scooted his jeans down, revealing his glistening hole and freezing Jim in place. The portal looked much too small and defenseless. "Ah, Wild Thing," Jim mumbled, "I'm going to hurt you."
Smiling cheekily over his shoulder, Blair assured him, "I can take it, if you let me do it my way. You cool with that?"
Inhaling deeply, becoming dizzy on the scent of lust rolling off the smaller body, Jim could only nod and lick dry lips. With infinite care Blair reached behind himself, slathered lube over Jim's cock, and held it steady as he sat slowly onto it. At first it didn't seem as if it would fit past the guardian ring, but Blair was determined and it finally popped through with an almost audible sound. All three of them hissed in reaction, and the sound from Anderson made Jim check him quickly. Closer, but not enough, he thought distantly, and concentrated on letting the almost painful tightness of Blair's ass wash over him.
Controlling his breaths, all but counting out loud as he did, Blair inched down on Jim's shaft a bit, then let it go so he could crouch on all fours between his lover's wide flung knees. For a second Jim had to admire his partner's cleverness. The position gave Blair full control over how much and when he was entered, and hid so much of the action that Anderson was drifting closer to get a better look. Admitting to himself that unless the merc touched Blair, he was going to have to come before he did anything else, Jim panted nonsensical praises, encouraging Blair to ride.
And ride he did, slowly and tentatively at first, taking only millimeters before rising to relieve the tight fit. He grunted with the effort, and it wasn't very pleasant for either of them. But the need for union soaked into the heated flesh, and slowly, slowly Blair's channel gave, becoming caressing instead of choking. Making animal noises they both voiced their renewing pleasure as Blair moved more surely, finding a rhythm that worked for them.
"Damn, damn, damn," Blair began to chant, speeding up to take more, deeper. "So fucking big, lover, so fucking *big.*"
"Can't believe this," Jim ground out. "Don't fucking believe this. Come on, Chief. Come on, a few more inches, just a few more inches and it'll be all in. Come on!"
"Won't hold back; want it all, want it *ALL!*" Blair demanded.
"Yes! Please! All of it," Jim begged. "Do it for me, baby!" Inflamed by Blair's steady pumping, Jim attempted to thrust, but couldn't get leverage. "God! Oh, God! Need It!"
"Yes, yes, yes..." Raising up, Blair tried to get a hand down to stroke his own enormous rod, the ruddy head of it poking arrogantly through the concealing tails of his shirt as he fumbled.
Seeing only that Blair wanted to jack himself, Anderson instinctively reached out to push aside the fabric to see. He had time for one startled, "Jesus Christ," at the size of Blair's hard-on before Jim's fist connected to his jaw. Blair scooped up the gun, and Jim took it from him hurriedly as he hauled him upright. Holding his lover to his chest with one powerful arm, gun still clenched in that fist, Jim worked Blair's cock furiously with his other, pumping deeply into him as he did.
"Now, Blair," he whispered rawly. "NOW!"
Howling silently, Blair came, his cream spurting over their joined hands, his body jerking hard on the pole inside him. Behind him, biting through the cloth where Blair's neck and shoulder met, Jim concentrated on keeping them upright and moving, monitoring Anderson's prone form all the while. Every nerve in him was throbbing dangerously, but he held on, refusing to relinquish control until Blair pried his fingers off the gun.
"Please, Jim," he murmured. "Don't make me feel alone here."
Shuddering, Jim groaned. "Blair, lover, I couldn't stop if I had to." With a last check to make sure Anderson was out and that Blair had the gun pointed at him anyway, Jim let go. Wrapping both arms around the precious man he was filling, Jim began fucking desperately, mewling in joy at the way the hot channel quivered and caressed. He was too far gone to last, and within a few thrusts he lost himself in the overwhelming flood of climax, trusting Blair to keep them safe.
When his mind cleared, they were on their sides, and he was half-sprawled over his lover, still moaning softly. Blair was moaning, too, and restlessly squirming, though he doggedly kept his aim on Anderson.
"Hurting, Chief?" he asked quietly, reluctantly reaching over to pry up one of Anderson's eyelids and take back the gun.
"No," Blair denied quickly, then Jim swore he could hear him grin. "Though I probably will tomorrow. Is he okay?"
"Gone on a nice trip," Jim said dismissively. Gingerly he rocked farther into his lover, not surprised to find his hard-on hadn't faded completely. "Mine was better."
"Nice and long and hot," Blair answered dreamily, digging back with his own hips. Then he winced and froze. "Ow, ow, ow," he mumbled honestly. "Don't think I can manage the return tonight journey, though."His tone was sincerely regretful, and Jim began carefully withdrawing, trying to convey his sympathy with tiny pecks scattered over Blair's ear and cheek.
The sense of loss when he was out bothered him enough that he leaned over to brush a kiss over the tightly pinched lips. "Maybe if I do the driving this time?" Jim offered, feeling himself twitch in anticipation.
Blair twitched, too and sighed. "Oh, God... you mean it?"
"Chief, the only complaint I have about the way our first time went is that I didn't have a chance to beg to bottom. Okay?" Jim admitted bluntly.
Before Blair could respond with more than a startled, happy smile, another flurry of gun fire interrupted them, and Jim quickly stood to peer out a window. A minute of piggy backing told him that Roarke's men were getting ready for a suicide dash, convinced they'd take the blame for their boss' death and would be dead men if they went to prison. He told Blair what he heard/saw, and turned back in time to see him, clothes pulled back together, finish cuffing and taping Anderson.
"There!" he finished triumphantly. "Unless *he* has a friend with a good Swiss army knife, he's not going to be a problem for a while." Standing, he surveyed his and Jim's condition, face showing his concern. "How much trouble are we going to be in when he spills what was going on in here?"
Quickly adjusting his own garments so that the evidence of their loving wasn't apparent, Jim grinned sardonically. "Considering the drugs and blow to the head, his testimony would be suspect anyway, Chief." Going to the door, waiting for his Blair to join him, Jim eased it to consider best how to proceed. "Besides, who'll believe him when he starts going on about *two* gigantic dicks."
With that, both of them laughing, they slipped through the door to go help their friends.
finis