Wrong on so many levels? Probably. Do I care? Not really. Oneshot!
Special Agent Peter Strahm was assigned to the Jigsaw case. He didn't really mind being the one to piece together the case of the psychopath, but he did mind the hunch he had.
He'd worked with Detective Mark Hoffman for so long, and he really didn't want to believe that the man was capable of killing people. It sounds crazy, but over the past year and a half, it was hard not to develop feelings for the detective.
It was late, on a Friday night. Peter was tired; he'd been working on the case all day. He pushed away from the oak desk and started toward the exit.
"Peter!" a rough voice called out to him. He turned around, facing Hoffman, his blue eyes dancing in the dull lighting of the police station. His heart was beating out of his chest, to the point to where he was almost positive that Mark could hear it.
"Mark," he said nonchalantly.
All the sudden, Hoffman was close. Really Close. The smile lit up his face and he brushed Peter's arm gently.
"How've you been?" he asked, his voice soft and warm and inviting.
Peter had trouble processing words. Fuck! He thought, How the hell does he affect me so much? Peter groaned, causing Mark to shoot him a weird look.
"I've been okay. You?" Strahm asked, hoping to cut the conversation short. Mark just shrugged and if it was even possible, inched closer to Peter.
Before either one of them knew what was happening, Peter's mouth found Mark's. Lips moved against each other and quiet moans were the only sounds in the building. They moved towards a desk, never once breaking the contact of their lips.
With one swift movement, pens, pencils and case papers were all over the floor and Mark was assaulting Strahm with his tongue.
"Hoffman," Strahm gasped, the sensation of Mark's teeth on his neck was amazing. He threw his head back in pleasure, giving the other man access to the length of his throat.
Visions of Mark standing over a dead body, cutting a puzzle piece into flesh rang through Peter's mind, but he pushed them out just as quickly as they came in, lifting his arms up for Hoffman to remove his shirt.
Soon enough they were both naked, tongues battling for dominance. Mark won and lifted himself up on the desk, straddling Peter's hips.
"Need you…now!" Strahm half moaned, half gasped. Lips continued to move against each other and Mark reached into the pocket of his jeans that lay on the chair, withdrawing a bottle of lube.
He prepped his lover, lubing up two fingers and gently pushing them in, scissoring and searching for Peter's prostate. He knew he'd found it when the man lying on the desk arched his back and moaned loudly.
Figuring it was enough prepping and barely able to keep from coming, Mark lubed up his hard member and positioned himself at the entrance of his lover. He pushed in slowly, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt the man.
When he was sheathed inside the man, he stilled waiting for a nod. When he finally got one, he withdrew, leaving only the tip inside. He slammed back in, hitting the prostate head on. Peter arched up, moaning Mark's name.
Hoffman's thrusts became erratic and he was hitting the sweet spot within Peter's body, making him shudder. Mark reached between their sweat slicked bodies and stroked Strahm's hard member, until finally his seed erupted, covering both their abdomens.
The clenching and unclenching of the muscles around Hoffman brought him to his climax. He shuddered and coated Peter's inner walls with his white hot seed and collapsed.
As his breathing came back, he kissed Peter's lips softly.
"Let's get dressed and head to my place." Hoffman suggested. Peter nodded and pulled on his clothes.
The next morning, Strahm woke up in a bed that wasn't his own and a warmth that was so familiar, yet a drastic change. He realized what happened last night and smiled to himself.
So what if Mark was involved in the Jigsaw murders? He belonged to Peter now, and he would have help getting back on the right track. Peter rolled over gently and nuzzled Mark's neck. His eyes closed and sleep overtook him.
For once, in what seemed like forever, both men were happy. And who would've thought?
Hoffman and Strahm.
There's really no story. I just wanted to do this :D