Author's Note: This is a follow up to Post Up. Several people requested more Frostie and…well…what the hell. As if not obvious by the character tags, this fic depicts male slash…there is talk of cocks…and things two men do with them…you have been warned.
The Draft
Frankie stole a sideways glance at Frost on the sofa and then redirected his attention back to the television. It was the first time they had been so close – physically – in months…since the afternoon in the locker room after the basketball game. Sure, they had seen each other plenty since then. Out at lunch with Jane, Maura and Korsak. In the bullpen. But, not in a more intimate social setting. Frankie drained the last of his beer and tapped the bottom of the bottle against the arm of the sofa. He glanced to his left again, this time looking past Frost to where Jane occupied the end of the sofa and where Maura was perched on the opposite arm.
He shook his head and laughed, poor Jane, trying to explain the NFL draft to Maura. It was endearing though, Maura wanted to know because it was an interest of Jane's and somehow, when it came to Maura, Jane had developed a patience in explaining things she'd never had for anyone else. When he thought about it, it wasn't that surprising. Maura loved Jane and Jane loved Maura. Jane's arms snaked around Maura's waist and pulled her into her lap. Maura giggled and adjusted so that she didn't obstruct Jane's view of the proceedings. Frost, ever the gentleman, shifted a few more inches to give them more space.
A few more inches, closing what little gap there had been between them. Their knees bumped together but Frost made no attempt to sever the contact.
"Another beer, anyone?" Frankie popped up and headed towards the kitchen.
"Yeah," Jane hollered, "I'll have one, and Maura needs another glass of wine. So…" Jane continued, one hand rubbing Maura's back the other her knee, "The Patriots' strategy in previous years is to bank picks in the later rounds for solid players that are considered to be long-term investments. This has worked really well in the past, but with some ridiculous losses in the past few seasons there has been a lot of criticism that the team hasn't invested enough in clench playmakers…Does this makes sense?"
Maura's brow knitted and she pondered the information, "No…no I can't say as it does."
Jane laughed, "By the later rounds the high profile players, the 'playmakers,' have usually been drafted. So, this year, the Pats have traded up for an earlier pick. The assumption being they're altering their draft strategy in favor of a big name player that will be expected to produce dividends in the short-term."
"Mm hmm…" Maura nodded.
"You don't understand a word of what I just said?" Jane shook her head but smiled as Maura placed a quick peck on her cheek.
Frost laughed and took another swig of beer.
Jane's eye caught something on the shelf near the tv, she looked at Frost, "Hey Frankie, when did you get Guardian Chogokin back?"
"Frost…uh…lost a bet," Frankie teased from the kitchen causing the young detective to cough and sputter right as he brought the mouth of the beer bottle to his lips.
On Frankie's large flat screen, NFL commissioner Roger Goodell walked across the stage to the podium, Denver has traded the 25th pick to New England…
"Hey man!" Frost turned and shouted over his shoulder, "Get back in here."
Frankie sprinted to the sofa and planted himself, his earlier consciousness of the personal space – or lack thereof – between him and Frost completely irrelevant at this critical juncture. He passed Jane and Maura's drinks clumsily to Frost who shoved them to his left as they waited…
With the 25th pick in the 2012 NFL Draft, the New England Patriots select…Dont'a Hightower…linebacker…Alabama…
"Whooo!" Frankie clapped, "Pats gonna be bringin' the D this year!"
"Damn right, brotha!" Frost slapped Frankie on the thigh and threw in a little squeeze for good measure, causing the younger Rizzoli to jerk his leg and clear his throat.
The Draft coverage plodded along and Frankie found it increasingly difficult to contain the urge to take a look in Frost's direction. Each time he did he felt his pants grow tighter. Frost was growing his scruff back and as Frankie eyed it his gaze naturally followed along his friend's jaw line until he reached plump lips, higher to long lashes and eyes that forcibly maintained their sightline straight ahead. He could see Frost's jaw clamp and his cheek quiver as he sucked in and bit his lip.
Frankie threw his arm up on the back of the sofa and let his hand hang down between them and brush across Frost's shoulder. He could feel the man next to him flinch every time he made contact. Not so fun when you're the one being teased.
Maura yawned and leaned down to whisper something in Jane's ear.
Jane swatted Maura on the butt to get her to stand, "Well, some of us have to work tomorrow. We're gonna head out. You guys have fun."
They exchanged pleasantries of farewell and as soon as the door shut Frost chuckled under his breath, "They're totally going home to have sex."
"Hey!" Frankie protested, "That's my sister you're talking about!"
"Oh come on," Frost scoffed, "like if you had the chance you wouldn't be hittin' Dr. Isles."
Frankie downed the last of his beer in several deep gulps, "Nah…" he let his eyes roam from Frost's eyes down and then back up, "Nah…there's something else I'd rather be hittin' to tell you the truth."
Frost licked his lips, "Seemed like you were having some difficulty concentrating there for a while…"
"Yeah, well, concentrating on the Draft is kind of hard when all I can think about is your mouth on my cock," Frankie widened his legs and revealed the bulge in his pants beneath the now stretched denim.
His belt was uncinched and loosed with rough urgency. Frankie leaned back and let Frost do all the work of yanking his pants down. His cock strained against the fabric of his briefs. He reached inside and stroked himself to full erection as Frost watched from between his legs. Frankie removed his hand and lifted his hips so Frost could pull the navy blue briefs down around his ankles. "Suck me off."
Frost grasped the shaft of his cock and began to work it, exerting increasing pressure through his motions as he watched Frankie's abs tighten and release. He sped up his strokes as Frankie panted and couldn't contain the occasional thrust timed to Frost's rhythm. "Like that?" Frost teased.
"I'd like your mouth on my cock a lot more," Frankie curled forward and got a grip on the back of Frost's head and pulled him forward until he felt wet lips draw the head of his cock into needed warmth. "Fuck," Frankie groaned as Frost's tongue stroked the tip and sucked.
His fingers dug harder into Frost's scalp, felt the short, coarse hair under his fingers as he pushed Frost to take more of him in.
A strong grip settled on Frankie's hips and Frost finally relented, his mouth consuming the shaft of Frankie's cock to the base and then back up in slick strokes that sent Frankie barreling into a profanity laced orgasm that had every muscle in his body coiling and firing.
"Fuck," Frankie whispered.
"You say that a lot…when you…when you're like this," Frost chuckled and wiped his mouth.
"Well, it seems fitting," Frankie kicked his pants away and stood, stripping off his shirt as he sauntered nude to the fridge with a swagger vaguely reminiscent of that his sister put on most of the time. "Beer?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Uh?" Frost arched an eyebrow.
Frankie pulled two beers from the fridge and popped the caps, "I need a little recovery time."
"You need recovery time…to blow me?"
With a twinkle in his eye, Frankie took a swig of his beer and handed the other to his buddy, "I don't intend to blow you."
Frost had been to Frankie's apartment several times, but never in his bedroom. The décor was simple, neat, accented with various types of sports memorabilia. He took a look around the room and then turned to find himself face to face with brown eyes and a one-sided smile. They each went in for the kiss simultaneously, in much the same fashion as the first time in the locker room, aggressive and competitive.
Fucking buttons. He had to give points to women in one area: they were far better at the sexy undressing thing. Frankie continued to fumble with the top buttons of Frost's shirt as Frost took up the bottom ones to save time. Finally, the whole thing undone the impeding garment was tossed to the floor with Frost's undershirt, followed quickly by shoes, pants and socks.
They stood chest to chest for a moment, heavy breaths trading back and forth and cooling small patches of skin.
"Take those off," Frankie let his eyes signal the boxer briefs Frost was already threatening to burst out of. He stepped back and watched. Bright white briefs were slid down Frost's dark hips, down his thighs, lower until they pooled at his feet. He reminded Frankie of those Calvin Klein underwear models from back in the day…the ones he used to tear out from the pages of his mother's magazines and jerk off to in his room late at night once everyone had gone to bed.
Frost watched as Frankie took a few backward steps towards the bedside table, slowly pulled the drawer open and rooted around until his hand emerged, prominently displaying a condom grasped between his thumb and forefinger.
Frankie stroked his cock, made sure it was hard and then deftly rolled the condom down the shaft before reaching back into the drawer and producing a bottle of lube. Prepared, he again moved towards Frost and spun him around, letting his cock tease the ass finally within reach. "Bend over," he whispered as he gruffly kissed the dark and perspiring neck in front of him.
Breaths came in quick and shallow succession as Frost complied, spreading his legs and bending over to prop himself on the bed, his body tingled and trembled in anticipation. "Fuck!" He blurted out as Frankie entered him.
The strokes were slow and easy at first as Frankie let him grow accustomed to the new sensation. He could feel Frost relax as his cock slipped with increasing ease deeper with each thrust. "Ready?" Frankie asked, his hands massaging up Frost's thighs, over bony hips and digging into defined musculature as they rested on a sweat-slicked back.
"Yeah," Frost nodded, taking a deep breath as Frankie began to pound him more forcefully from behind. There was pain, but that faded as a burning pleasure began to fill him from the inside. Frost gripped the sheets, tighter and tighter, gritting his teeth until his back arched and his body went rigid as he came.
His body collapsed to the bed and he could feel Frankie fall on top, still inside. Frankie was still thrusting, "Just…a few…more…" his hands dug into Frost's wrists as he came for the second time that night. Withdrawing as soon as he was spent he rolled onto the bed next to Frost. They let the sound of their exhausted panting take over the room as the minutes passed.
"I wasn't expecting…that," Frost laughed as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.
Frankie glanced sideways at him and smirked, "New strategy…I decided to trade up in the first round."