A/N: I think the original idea for this one was Kitty's, I blame her utterly.
February 10, 2001
"Ernie," Sam held out his hand, inwardly cursing himself for not thinking of a name as soon as Boyd told them what they were doing. Now he was stuck sounding like a character on Sesame Street.
"And what do you do, Ernie?" The woman batted her false eyelashes coyly.
In for a nickel... "I drive a Zamboni."
She smiled, and leaned subtly away from him. "That's interesting." Her eyes, scanning the bar for anyone else to talk to, said otherwise.
Sam threw his final dart, just missing the bulls eye. The tall red headed man he was playing against admitted defeat and Sam scooped up the wad of twenties off the table top. He counted them quickly; $140, it should be enough. It would have to be, he was running short on time.
Thankfully, he knew just where to go next. He may have only been on the job eighteen months, but he paid attention. If he was going to win this thing, there was only one place to go.
Sam weighed his options as he approached Rosedale station, if he used the subway token now he'd have more cash for the buy, but no guarantee he could get back downtown in time; at least not without jumping a turnstile or bailing on cab fare. But $140 wasn't a ton of money, and he was loathe to break a twenty just for a $2.25 metro token.
When he spotted the short line of people waiting at the token booth his mind was made up. He pulled the tiny token from his pocket and dropped it into the slot on the turnstile. He would figure out how to get back once he'd made the buy.
.
.
.
"This shit will blow your fucking mind!" Colin was practically bouncing as he counted out thirty tablets and sealed them into a small plastic bag. His spikey blonde hair was sticking up in every direction. "Seriously, Ernie. I've made a lot of good shit. Shit that will fucking curl your fucking toes man. Just send you into another universe. But this… this shit is…" He held up the bag, gazing at the small purple pills like a lover. "This is my masterpiece."
Sam shifted in his seat. It was nearly five. If he didn't get moving soon he was never going to make it back to 15 and back into uniform by six am.
"You gotta try it. I cut it with something really special." Suddenly Colin was in front of him, and Sam found himself face to face with the ribbon of flat stomach below the hem of Collin's pink t-shirt. A line of blonde hair that widened slightly before disappearing below the band of a truly tiny pair of jean shorts.
Sam's mind went blank. He should refuse, make an excuse. But instead of the smooth falsehood the situation required his brain gave him nothing.
"I know, I know.. never use your own product right?" Colin rolled his blue eyes dramatically. "Fuck that! I say try it so you know what you're selling? Am I right?"
"Uhh…"
Colin ran his index finger down Sam's face. "What is it sexy? You already dip into your stash tonight?"
Sam shook his head. Every instinct he had was telling him to get the hell out of there, but his muscles were frozen. "No, never touch the stuff." He said in a voice that sounded nothing like his own.
Colin pouted, his plump pink lower lip sticking out in a way that would not have looked out of place on a three year old. "Come on…" He wheedled. "I promise you will have the night of your fucking life." He rolled his hips suggestively. "Just take my advice, don't waste it on a night alone. Just one and you're good to go, if you know what I mean."
Before Sam could react, Colin picked up a pill with his index finger and held it against Sam's lips. "Come on Ernie. You've never felt so good in your life."
Almost against his will, Sam's mouth opened and Colin pressed the tablet against his tongue, letting his finger linger suggestively inside Sam's mouth. "Good boy." He smiled. "I'm going to throw in ten extra for you.. just in case. Wouldn't want a first timer to go without."
Sam tucked the pill into his cheek, hoping against hope it wouldn't dissolve before he could get out of there and spit it out.
Colin poured another few pills into the bag and then handed it to Sam with a smile. "Here you go, handsome."
Sam stood. "Thanks."
"Any time, day or night." Colin pressed his body up against Sam's. "I mean that."
Sam swallowed. "Uhh… Thank you." He shoved the pills in his pocket and fled.
.
.
.
Boyd checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. It was 5:45. Williams and Derickson were back already, both in uniform, sipping coffee, sharing stories of their night and waiting to be debriefed. Only Swarek was still missing in action. Boyd murmured an excuse to the room, pretty sure no one was listening, and headed towards the parking lot. There was a gnawing feeling in his gut and for the first time in the three years he'd been running the scavenger hunt he felt worried that one of the rookies wouldn't come back in one piece.
He had just rounded reception, when he saw Sam through the double doors. He narrowed his eyes, what was…? Fuck it all to Hell! Trying not to draw attention to himself, he picked up the pace, meeting Swarek just as he stepped through the doors.
"Swarek! Why don't you just.." He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one else noticed the dumbstruck smile on the Rookie's face, or worse, the erection straining against Sam's jeans. "Come with me." Boyd practically shoved Sam back through the station doors and into the parking lot.
He opened the back door to his car and gestured for Sam to get in. "Just.. Wait here."
Sam reached out one hand and ran his fingers over Boyd's cheek, lips parted in silent wonder. His thumb brushed over Boyd's lips. "So soft," he murmured, staring up at Boyd with wide eyes.
His fingers were rough, calloused. A fleeting image of those fingers wrapping around Boyd's cock, those eyes glued to Boyd's as Sam stroked it made the night air feel suddenly warm. Boyd pulled back suddenly, and pushed Sam's arm inside the vehicle.
Clicking the child safety lock on the door into place for good measure, Boyd shut it. The last thing either of them needed was for Boyko to see Sam stoned and ready to rumble. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to focus his mind on something other than the feel of Sam's fingers against his skin.
How the fuck was he going to explain this one to Boyko?
.
.
.
Thirty minutes and countless lies later, Boyd re-emerged into the parking lot. Boyko hadn't looked thrilled with Boyd's story about Sam calling him from home saying he was sick, but he'd bought it… well, maybe. He had stopped asking questions anyway and that was all that mattered. After that it had been a matter of assessing the haul Williams and Derikson brought in, three ounces of marijuana (Derikson) and half a gram of heroin (Williams), and declaring the winner (Williams), and then he was free to leave, which he did, as quickly as possible. He did not want to know what would happen if Boyko found out Sam was not, in fact, at home throwing up some bad Indian food, but actually sitting in the back of Boyd's charger with glassy eyes and a raging erection.
Boyd didn't really look in the back seat until he opened the driver's side door and saw a coat and t-shirt that were definitely not his sitting on the passenger seat. What the hell? Half afraid of what he was going to find, Boyd turned his head just far enough to see Sam out of the corner of his eye, and promptly slammed his head against the roof of the car.
Sam was sitting demurely in the back seat, shirtless, his pants undone so his brief-covered erection thrust out like a white flag from his otherwise jean-clad lap. His eyes were closed and his head thrown back in ecstasy as his fingers traced idle patterns across his lightly hairy chest, up his throat to his face and then back down again. When one of those hands wrapped around his cock, Boyd tore his eyes away.
"Jesus, Swarek! What did you take?" Boyd snapped, sliding behind the wheel trying his best to ignore the fact that his own pants were beginning to feel tight. He risked a glance at Sam in the rear view mirror.
"You're back." Sam stared at him with glassy, irisless eyes. His hands stopped their restless roaming over his own skin. "It feels…"
"I bet it does." Boyd said, fighting a sudden urge to laugh.
Sam reached forward, tangling his fingers in Boyd's curly hair. "So soft," he murmured, leaning his head forward.
Boyd closed his eyes and took a deep steadying breath, trying to ignore Sam's breath against his neck. "Sit back, Swarek. I'm going to take you home."
Sam did not sit back. Instead, he leaned even further forward, bringing his face even with Boyd's shoulder. "You feel like alpaca," he said nuzzling his face into the crook of Boyd's neck.
Boyd planted one hand on Sam's face and shoved him back unceremoniously. "Do you want to get caught?" Before Sam could think to do anything else horrendously inappropriate, or ridiculously hot his traitorous brain added, Boyd threw the car into gear and pulled out of the parking space.
He had barely pulled out into traffic when Sam's hands were back in his hair. "I want to wear you like a sweater." Sam purred.
Boyd swatted him away again, thanking every deity he could think of that he lived less than five minutes from the station. The fourth time he slapped Sam's hands away from his hair he added a thanks that his car was an automatic, leaving one hand free to fight off Sam's increasingly aggressive advances.
.
.
.
"Just… sit on the couch, okay?" Boyd eyed Sam warily. The black haired man had finally stopped trying to molest Boyd's head when they pulled into the driveway, but Boyd wasn't ready to drop his guard quite yet.
Sam smiled, a disconcerting, joyful smile that caused Boyd's heart to stutter for a moment in his chest. He'd never seen Sam smile like that before. It was beautiful.
Boyd had already locked all three locks on the front door and set the home alarm system to go off it the door was opened without the code being entered, but there were two other exits he needed to seal before he could feel reasonably certain Sam wouldn't wander out into traffic because he was trying to feel the oncoming headlights. Casting one final look at Sam, he decided to risk it. How much trouble could Sam get into in five minutes?
Apparently, as Boyd learned when he'd secured all of the doors and windows on the ground floor, the answer was a lot. When he returned he found Sam laying half on the couch, half on the floor, rubbing his inexplicably muddy body with the universal remote control, which he'd apparently only decided on after discarding several books; a snow globe which now lay in two pieces and a puddle of sparkly water; and a potted fichus that had been a gift from Boyd's last girlfriend three years earlier. Sam's jeans, shoes and socks lay in a pile in the corner and now all that remained were a pair of white briefs.
"What did y- I was only gone… How? Forget it." Boyd crossed the room in three strides and hauled Sam to his feet. "Come on. Let's go feel the shower."
Sam came a little too willingly, crashing against Boyd's body. His cock pressed against Boyd's thigh and he thrust his hips. "Mmm.."He dropped his head against Boyd's shoulder, turning his face so he could lick Boyd's neck.
Boyd grasped Sam by his biceps and forced him back a step. "No!"
Sam smirked and, reaching out with both hands, began to work on undoing Boyd's belt. "Too many," he muttered, slipping the belt and top button free with surprising dexterity.
Boyd swatted Sam's hands away and turned him so Sam was facing the stairs. Taking Sam by the shoulders, Boyd half pushed Sam towards the stairs. "Upstairs, shower… cold shower."
.
.
.
Boyd sank onto the edge of his bed and cradled his head in his hands. This was a nightmare. He pinched his arm hopefully, but the shower was still running and he knew if he walked across the room he would be able to see Sam rubbing a bar of soap over his well-toned abs, his impressive erection jutting out proudly. Just the thought made his mouth dry. He'd always been attracted to Sam Swarek, since the first time he'd seen the rookie almost a year earlier, but even if Sam were gay, or bi, which Boyd was pretty sure he wasn't, he'd never shown the slightest interest in Boyd. That was, until tonight.
Though he knew the drugs were probably the only reason Sam hadn't been able to keep his hands to himself all morning, Boyd didn't know how much longer his control would last. His only hope was that Sam had taken the drugs a while ago and he would be coming down soon. It was nearly seven, if he'd taken them before three they should be wearing off any moment. It was a thin thread of hope, but he held on to it with both hands.
He couldn't leave Sam alone, not if the five minutes of alone time Sam had had in his living room was any indication. But he didn't know if he would be able to keep pushing Sam away when Sam so clearly wanted, even needed, a release.
The shower stopped and Boyd's entire body tensed in anticipation. A few seconds later Sam stepped into view, dripping wet and completely naked. Boyd watched a drop of water snake its way over a peaked nipple, along the line of Sam's torso before finally disappearing in the dark thatch of hair at the base of Sam's cock. Involuntarily he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, imagining licking that droplet away. He rose to his feet, painfully aware of his steadily hardening cock. If he'd thought getting Sam in the shower would help, he'd been painfully mistaken.
Sam crossed the room, his dark eyes fixed on Boyd with a hunger that made Boyd's heart jump in his chest.
Boyd couldn't move.
Sam brought his hands up to Boyd's face, smoothing his palms over Boyd's stubble covered cheeks before tangling all ten finger's in Boyd's hair. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Boyd's mouth.
"Mmm," Boyd moaned, his control breaking like a wave. He slid his hands up Sam's wet back, pulling their bodies together as he opened his mouth to Sam's questing tongue. He was going to regret this day no matter what he did, he might as well enjoy it.
.
.
.
Boyd's back hit the wall hard, but he barely noticed. Sam's lips were working at his throat and all he could think was that he was still wearing too many clothes.
Sam seemed to have the same thought because his hands stopped caressing Boyd's hair and starting pulling at his button down shirt with restless impatience. "Want…to… taste… you.." Sam gasped between nips at Boyd's neck.
Boyd released his belt and fly, letting his pants fall around his ankles. Sam's cock brushed against his bare thigh and he reached down and wrapped one hand around it, stroking the hot, hard flesh.
"Fuck!" Sam groaned thrusting into Boyd's hand. He tugged at Boyd's shirt, giving up on undoing the last few buttons.
Boyd reached up and undid them as quickly as he could with one hand still sliding over Sam's cock and Sam's mouth latched onto his right nipple. When the last button popped free he grasped Sam by the shoulders and turned them so Sam was pressed back against the wall. He shed the shirt, tossing it on the floor and kicked out of his jeans at the same time before leaning in to capture Sam's lips with his own.
Sam's mouth was hot and wet and perfect. Boyd cupped Sam's jaw, holding him at the perfect angle so he could thrust his tongue into Sam's mouth. His other hand twisted Sam's nipple until the other man growled against him. This, right here, was what he'd wanted, what he'd dreamed about the nights he woke up painfully hard, covered in sweat. Of course in his dreams Sam wasn't high. Nor was he winding Boyd's hair through his fingers, murmuring about how its softer than a chinchilla and how he wanted it all over him.
Boyd broke away suddenly, panting. "We can't.."
Sam ran a hand down Boyd's face. "So scruffy." He said, tracing the line of Boyd's jaw. Like he had in the parking lot, Sam ran his thumb over Boyd's lip. This time though he pressed against the seam of Boyd's lips, sliding his thumb into the other man's mouth. "I want you to taste me. It feels so much." He thrust his hips, his erection sliding against Boyd's thigh.
Boyd looked down, realizing for the first time that Sam had been fully erect for at least two hours, if not more. It had to be uncomfortable. He wrapped hand once again around Sam's length, telling himself he was only trying to help.
Sam pulled his thumb from Boyd's mouth and ran the saliva wetted tip over the tip of his own cock, closing his eyes at the sensation. "Wet. So hot, I need…" He shifted restlessly, circling the tip of his cock with his thumb. "Need to be wet." He groaned.
Boyd dropped slowly to his knees, kissing and sucking his way along Sam's body. Sam tangled one hand in Boyd's curls, urging him on. When Boyd reached Sam's cock he cast his eyes upwards.
Sam wasn't watching him. His eyes were closed, the hand that wasn't in Boyd's hair was circling Sam's nipple, pinching it and then soothing.
It was strangely erotic and Boyd felt his cock jump in response. He wondered if he might come just from watching Sam pleasure himself. But Sam's cock, jutting towards him would not be released so easily. If Boyd was right about the cocktail Sam had taken that night, Sam wouldn't be able to actually come until at least the MDMA wore off, but there was no reason that time couldn't be spent pleasurably.
He stood suddenly, pressing a hot kiss against Sam's half open mouth before stepping back.
Sam groaned, "Don't.." and Boyd smiled.
"I'll be right back." He kissed him once more before turning and pulling open the bedside table drawer. When he found what he was looking for he returned to Sam, who was working both hands over his own cock, head thrown back. He was muttering something too softly for Boyd to understand, his forehead creased in pleasure.
Boyd knelt before him removing Sam's hands and replacing them with his own for a moment before he leaned forward and circled the head of Sam's cock with his tongue.
"Yes," Sam hissed, thrusting his hips forward, his hands grabbed Boyd's head, holding him in place.
Boyd grabbed on to Sam's hips, holding him still as he took Sam's cock into his mouth. He teased the sensitive flesh with the tip of his tongue, running his tongue from base to tip before taking as much of Sam into his mouth as he could.
When Sam didn't try to thrust again, Boyd slid his hands further around, caressing Sam's firm ass as he continued to work his mouth over Sam's burning hot cock. His fingers teased their way around Sam's back door.
Sam growled, his fingers tightening in Boyd's hair.
Boyd took that as encouragement as he picked up the bottle of lube he'd grabbed from his bedside table and squirted a generous amount onto his fingers. He spread the lube slowly in concentric circles around the edges of Sam's anus before sliding one finger slowly inside. He crooked his finger inwards until he hit the spot that made Sam gasp, his hips bucking involuntarily, driving his cock against the back of Boyd's throat.
Boyd breathed through his nose, forcing the muscles in his throat to relax as Sam fucked his mouth. He kept up a stead rhythm with his fingers until Sam's body went rigid, muscles straining as his body sought release and failed to find it.
Sam cried out, though whether in pleasure or frustration it was impossible to tell, and then pulled Boyd up into a fierce kiss. His tongue plundered the depths of Boyd's mouth as he pushed Boyd backwards towards the bed, stopping only when Boyd's calves made contact with the edge of the mattress. Sam gave him a push, and then followed, holding his own weight with one knee on the edge of the bed and one elbow firmly planted on the comforter.
Boyd ran his hands up Sam's back, the muscles hard beneath his fingers. He could feel Sam's cock rubbing against his and he arched his hips in an attempt to increase contact.
Sam's lips moved from Boyd's lips down to his throat, suckling at Boyd's pulse point. His teeth grazed Boyd's skin and then nipped hard enough to leave a mark.
Boyd moaned, thrusting his hips upwards, desperate for contact, for release. When Sam's hand wrapped around Boyd's cock, the callous roughened fingers gently working over the over-sensitized flesh, he cried out. Sam continued to suckle at Boyd's neck while his hands slid steadily over Boyd's cock.
Boyd was close, so close, so close, so.. Oh yes! Sam pressed his knuckle against the sensitive spot behind Boyd's testicles and Boyd came apart. Oh Fuck! Boyd threw his head back as he came all over their entwined bodies.
.
.
.
Boyd wasn't sure how he'd ended up lying on his stomach, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when Sam was doing that with his tongue. Boyd wondered idly if he'd been wrong about the younger man's sexual orientation. The tongue that was running over the highly sensitive skin of his anus didn't feel inexperienced. He groaned, reaching down his body to stroke his cock. It wasn't hard yet, but if Sam kept up that steady rhythm around his anus it would be soon.
He nearly whimpered when Sam pulled away.
"You need to be wet, so much wetter." Sam said before placing lube covered fingers where his tongue had been.
Boyd groaned. It had been a long time since he'd been with a man. There weren't many who caught his interest. And of those who did, there weren't many he would let do what Sam was doing right now. He couldn't remember a time he'd wanted another man to top him this badly.
"Get on your hands and knees," Sam said in a low, gravelly voice.
Boyd complied, his entire body aching for the return of Sam's touch.
Sam tested Boyd's anus with one finger and then two, slowly stretching the delicate flesh, making sure there was enough lubricant. The fuzzy haze of ecstasy was beginning to ebb. His skin no longer felt like every inch of it was on fire, but the throbbing arousal in his cock was only growing more intense. He rubbed the tip of his cock along Boyd's lubricated crack, not letting his brain think too much about what he was about to do.
He moved slowly, the one girlfriend he'd tried this with had taught him well. He slid in an inch and waited for Boyd's muscles to relax around him before sliding in further. It was so tight, so fucking deliciously tight he thought he might come right then and there. But like before, his body tensed a pulse of pleasure shot through him but he couldn't find release. Frustration and arousal and the fucking perfect feeling of Boyd's ass clenching around his cock drove Sam onwards. He drove into the detective with steadily increasing speed and force until they were both crying out in pleasure. Just when he thought the arousal was going to drive him mad, Sam thrust once more, and came, his body shaking with pleasure.
He pulled out slowly, unable to look at Boyd. What the hell did I just do?
He remembered all of it. Collin slipping the pill into his mouth, the cab ride back to the station, hoping the drug had somehow not gotten into his system, even if there had been nothing left to spit out by the time he made it to the street. He remembered his skin feeling like every touch of fabric or skin was setting off a million little fireworks, and wanting to feel everything against him. He remembered Boyd pushing him away and then Boyd's lips against his, Boyd's mouth around his cock, sucking and licking while Boyd's fingers stroked a spot he hadn't known he had, igniting every pleasure sensor in his body. He remembered throwing Boyd down on the bed and jacking him off, the hot come getting all over his stomach. And he remembered being so fucking hard it almost hurt, and thrusting his cock into Body's anus until finally, finally, finding his release. He remembered every second of it, but like it was a dream.. or a nightmare. He'd done it all, he'd enjoyed it all, but he didn't remember deciding to do any of it.
"Swarek?" Boyd was standing in front of him, thankfully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. "How're you feeling?"
Sam looked up at the detective, wanting to tell him off for not fighting harder, for letting Sam get him off, for letting Sam use him to get off. Their eyes met and recrimination died on Sam's lips. There was something in Boyd's eye's he'd never expected to see: fear. Not fear that Sam would be angry, or that someone would find out, but the kind of fear Sam had seen in his sister's husband's face when he'd asked Sam's permission to marry her. The kind of fear that only came from hope. "My clothes?"
"They're a mess." Boyd said, "You shower and I'll find you something."
Sam nodded. "Thanks." He wasn't sure if he was thanking Boyd for the clean clothes, or for something else. He didn't want to dwell on it too closely.
.
.
.
Half an hour later, Boyd handed Sam a mug of black coffee. "You ever used before?"
Sam shook his head. He'd tried weed twice in high school, but he was pretty sure that didn't count.
"You're going to feel low for a day or two, side effect of the Serotonin boost."
Sam nodded. He felt like that was all he had been doing since the warm, delicious fuzz of ecstasy had receded from his mind.
Boyd took a sip of coffee and then set the mug down. "You got lucky last night. You could have gotten yourself killed, you know that right?"
Once again Sam's head bobbed in silent acknowledgement.
"Good. If I hear so much as a rumor that you're using. I will arrest you for possession with intent to sell and don't think I won't. I have these," he held up the small ziplocked bag of purple pills, "and I am not afraid to plant them on you."
Sam said nothing. There wasn't anything he could say. Taking the pill had been incredibly stupid. He'd known it at the time, but he'd frozen. The casual quip that might have kept Colin from being suspicious and gotten him out of there with his pills without having to sample to product hadn't materialized. At least he'd had the good sense to call a cab back to the station before the Ecstasy took effect. Thank God Boyd was there, he couldn't imagine how many new assholes Boyko would tear him if he ever found out.
"Boyko can never know about this." Sam said, not meeting Boyd's eyes. "He'll have both our badges."
Boyd nodded. "I won't tell anyone."
Sam looked up, there was something in Boyd's expression he couldn't name. It made his skin feel hot. "Good." He said, shrugging on his jacket and reaching for the door. All he wanted was to go home and forget that night had ever happened.