Disclaimer: I don't own Heavy Rain or the characters, but I do love them so I try not to hurt them (too badly) ;)
A/N - Thank you to everyone for your reviews, especially OnlySnakesCanLove, my fellow Blayden fan. You have been my biggest supporter, so huge kisses and virtual blow-jobs to you babe!
For this chapter I did some research about dogs and I also have a friend who I totally admire and who knows so much about dogs I call him the dog whisperer. I don't have dogs of my own, so don't flame me for anything that may be incorrect about the dog scene. This story isn't about dog obedience, but merely a vehicle to tell my story.
This chapter is still more exploration of Norman's character but with a little bit more "excitement" than the last chapter. *wink*
Rated M for swearing and self-pleasure. *snicker*
Norman met the dog's stare, asserting his own authority and not cowering under the dog's intended dominance. "AAH!" Norman loudly asserted himself with a deep, forceful tone of voice. The short "A" sound, coupled with the calm, powerful assertiveness caused the dog to immediately close its mouth and stop snarling. It let out another bark and Norman emphasized his influence with a loud, "No!" The dog whined questioningly and then lowered its body, placing its head down on the blanket that was covering the sofa on which it was laying.
Norman took a step toward the dog; satisfied he had elevated his status and shown the pack animal its rightful place. "Good dog," he praised the obedient animal. Thank God for summers in the country. He had learned much about handling dogs during his summers spent with his Uncle and cousins in the Connecticut River Valley in Western Massachusetts. Born and raised in Boston, Norman always looked forward to each July when he was shipped off to the valley for two months every year. There he was free to shed his city-boy persona and live the life of a country-boy. His aunt and uncle bred Labrador retrievers and Norman learned much from his uncle, the "dog-whisperer". Norman learned that dogs instinctually needed rules to follow and limits to what they were allowed to do. When dogs live with humans, the humans become the dog's pack. For the relationship to succeed, humans must become the dogs pack leader.
Norman knew he had to assert himself as pack leader in order to get this dog to back down. And now that the dog had complied with his commands, a reward was definitely in order. Norman moved slowly but confidently over to the couch and sat down next to the dog. The dog raised one eyebrow, looking at Norman, its ears twitching as the Agent slid his hand into the paper bag and pulled out the Big Mac. Let's see if you're hungry. He saw the canine look of curiosity cross over the animal's face as it raised its head and cocked it to one side.
He opened up the cardboard container and placed it in front of the animal. "Good dog," Norman praised again and the animal's dark eyes looked up at him, its nose sniffing towards the burger. Norman nodded his head, "Go on," he said firmly, giving the dog permission to eat the treat.
While the dog wolfed down the Big Mac, spewing bits of bread and lettuce all over the couch, Norman gave it a gentle pat on the head and then took a hold of the collar and read the metal tags fastened at the dog's neck. He saw the name "Cadence" was stamped into the tag and then he snuck a quick peek at the dog's undercarriage; no equipment was visible. "Good girl," Norman cooed to the shepherd as she made short work of the burger. Cadence licked her muzzle, cleaning up any remaining crumbs and then nudged Norman's hand with her nose and let out a slight whimper. "What's the matter girl?" he asked, giving the dog a pat on the head. Cadence whined again. Then it dawned on him, the poor animal had been cooped up inside all day while he and Blake had been at Nathaniel's and then at the hospital. Her bladder must be ready to burst!
He got up off the sofa and headed toward the front door, beckoning for the dog to follow him. "Come on girl," he said. Cadence followed slowly, favouring her left hind leg. Norman observed her visible limp and wondered what had caused the dog to become lame. She tackled the stairs up to the front door with little difficulty; she was seasoned at getting around Blake's house, although her movements were awkward, clearly showing signs of advanced age.
After Cadence had a quick pee and poo outside while Norman patiently waited for her to finish her business, he let her back inside and the two of them took up perch on the comfortable sofa. Norman grabbed a nearby remote control and turned on the large flat screen TV to catch the 10 o'clock news. He attempted to stifle a yawn and he felt his eyes grow heavy as the traumatic events of the day began to catch up to him. The nap he had taken at the hospital was not nearly comfortable or satisfying enough and his last dose of Tripto was finally sinking in. All of his limbs and muscles were beginning to feel loose, like gelatine, and a mellow, carefree feeling had descended around Norman's brain like a light, fluffy cloud. It was definitely time to give in to the sandman.
As Norman curled up on the sofa, pulling a warm fleece blanket over himself and laying his head on a couple of throw pillows, the news anchor reported on the story of Nathaniel Williams.
"And now turning to local news; religious zealot Nathaniel Williams was arrested today for attempted murder, after he shot police Lieutenant Carter Blake and then fled the scene of the crime. Lt. Blake and FBI Agent Norman Jayden, who are investigating the case of the Origami Killer, were questioning Williams in his apartment when the man drew a gun and shot the Lieutenant. He then escaped from the building while Agent Jayden performed life-saving CPR on Lt. Blake until paramedics arrived. Police later found and arrested Williams in nearby Cedar Park; he is currently in police custody. Lt. Blake remains in the hospital in stable but serious condition."
Thursday, October 6th, 2011, 8:12am
Norman felt the warm, wet blood wash over his face and he reached up and wiped it off with his hand. But still the blood continued to run down his mouth and nose. He swiped his hand over his face again, wondering where all the blood was coming from, when he suddenly opened his eyes and realized he wasn't bleeding. The warm, wet feeling was from Cadence's tongue licking his face. Norman's heart was racing and he took a deep breath, giving the dog a friendly pat on the head. I was dreaming… Just dreaming.
Then he realized where he was. "Oh shit, the dog!" Norman sat up with a start. "Damn it, what time is it?" He glanced at his watch. "God damn it, I'm gonna be late!" He kicked off the blanket that was covering his legs and got up off the sofa. Cadence sat on the floor and cocked her head, looking at him curiously. Clearly the Agent had made a new friend. "Okay girl, a quick pee, and then I gotta get outta here."
Norman let the dog outside to do her business and then raced around Blake's kitchen, filling Cadence's dog bowls with some dry kibble and fresh water. Satisfied that the dog's desires were taken care of, Norman then turned to his own needs. He made his way into the bathroom and checked out his reflection in the mirror above the sink. His hair was a matted mess, partly from the mixture of blood and hair gel that had dried in his wavy locks since the incident yesterday and partly from his awkward sleeping arrangements on hospital chairs and Blake's sofa. Damn, I was really hoping to duck in to the precinct without wasting anymore time. Norman noticed the crust of drool that was dried in the corners of his mouth and down his chin and the dark circles forming underneath his eyes. "Christ, I look like shit!"
Curious, Norman grabbed a hold of the armpit of his shirt and lifted it to his nose. He immediately made a face and squinched up his eyes and mouth, pulling his face away. "Oh God, I stink!" There was no way he could head into the station looking and smelling like a hobo. Shrugging his arms out of his suit jacket, Norman undid his tie and dress shirt and tossed the whole mess onto the bathroom floor. As he undid the fly of his slacks, he caught another glimpse of himself in the mirror. He had never been a vain or narcissistic individual, but Norman couldn't help but feel a little proud of the lean, muscular body that was hidden underneath his clothes.
His skin was extraordinarily pale; it wasn't like he did much in the way of outdoor activities. The majority of his time was either spent in his office using the ARI to sift through clues, or sitting behind a computer at home playing his nerdy online MMO computer game World of Warcraft. Besides it wasn't like he had seen the sun yet in his trip to rainy Philadelphia, but Norman was far from a scrawny nerd. He was lucky that he found it so easy to build and maintain muscle mass, even from just a handful of visits to the gym each month to lift some free weights and go for a quick run on the treadmill.
Dropping his trousers on the floor, he quickly skimmed his hand under the waistband of his underwear. He preferred low-rise trunks. Not quite a brief but not quite boxers, they were the most comfortable pair of underwear Norman had ever worn. It kept his boys intact but didn't have long boxer style legs that would bunch up underneath his pants. As he pulled off his underwear and then followed with his socks, Norman recalled the black boxer briefs that he had seen Carter wearing yesterday when Norman had taken off the Detective's belt to fashion the tourniquet. He felt himself stiffen a little as he remembered the delightful dark hair running down Carter's chest, past his belly button and below the waistband of his pants.
Shaking his head, Norman tried to clear his mind and focus on the task at hand. Stop it Norman! Just get your fuckin' act together! He reached into the shower and turned on the faucet full blast, pulled back the shower curtain and climbed inside. Immediately he could feel his muscles relax as the hot water began to pound down upon his body. He spent a full five minutes just standing and letting the steaming water pelt down on his skin, feeling the tension of the previous day begin to melt away. Norman closed his eyes, sinking into the calm, tranquil feeling of the cascading water. But no matter how hard he tried to put it out of his mind, his thoughts kept going back to Carter lying on the floor, his coat and shirt thrown open, his bare chest exposed.
Why am I still thinking about him? Norman opened his eyes and grabbed the bar of soap that was sitting in the recessed soap holder. It was a fairly fresh block of thick, green Irish Spring and Norman held it up to his nose and took a long, deep inhale. The crisp, masculine scent filled his nasal passages and Norman recognized the smell from being in such close proximity to Carter the past two days. The soap smell had even been identifiable underneath the Lieutenant's cologne. What else would I have expected Blake to use? Typical rugged bachelor.
Norman's photographic memory and bloodhound sniffing abilities came in handy for much of his FBI profiler work. He wasn't even aware most of the time that he was doing it. Whenever he would meet people he would begin to catalogue everything about them; what they said, how they were dressed, how they talked, what they ate, what they smelled like, what their body language was, how they walked. It all happened on such a subconscious basis unless he was actively working on a case, and then he was much more purposeful about it.
Norman had been doing it to Carter from the very first moment he met him out on the rainy Wasteland. From the little wink and douchey finger-gun action Blake had given him, to Blake's violent outburst in the briefing room at the precinct, to the heady scent of both the Detective's cologne and pheromones he gave off in such close quarters in the car while sitting outside Nathaniel's apartment. Norman had been subconsciously profiling the lieutenant and creating a collective mental file on the man.
As he began to lather up the soap and wash his arms and chest, Norman instantly recalled a snippet he had read on Wikipedia about various Irish Spring slogans and one immediately popped into his head, "Smell like you're worth exploring." A slight grin crossed his face as he thought of the Detective's muscular bare chest. I wouldn't mind exploring that. Closing his eyes, Norman pictured Carter lying on the floor of Nathaniel's apartment again. He felt his penis swell and harden at the mental image of the older man's chiselled pectoral muscles and the dark pelt of hair that covered his chest.
Norman rubbed the wet soap down his flat stomach, his hand grazing the tip of his shaft. He remembered the sensation of placing his lips to Carter's to give him mouth-to-mouth, his tongue accidentally making contact with the cop's own warm, wet tongue. Blake's thick goatee had prickled against his lips and Norman wondered what the man's facial hair would feel like tickling against his genitals. His penis bobbed and twitched violently at the thought of Carter's lips wrapped around him, and Norman let out a loud gasp. He looked down and saw he was rock-hard, a gleaming bead of pre-cum threatening to spill from his slit. The aching sensation in his testicles was almost bordering on painful and Norman couldn't believe the intense pressure that had quickly built up in his abdomen. His skin felt alive, hyper sensitive with the water hammering down on him, and a buzzing noise began to fill his brain. It was beginning to feel better than any rush that Tripto had ever given him and he was amazed, since he thought his libido had died many years ago.
The Agent had been sexually active with a handful of women when he was in University, but he had never held down a steady girlfriend; his studies had always come first. Then when he was accepted into the FBI fresh from graduation, he became married to his job. He had no time for women or dating and his right hand and Internet porn had become his fastest method for sexual release. Whatever was most efficient and practical was always Norman's motto. After he got accepted into the ARI program and began to rely on Tripto to moderate his ARI usage, was when Norman discovered even his minimal sex drive had dwindled down to be essentially non-existent.
Sure he would notice when a cute girl would walk down the street, but let's face it, with the long, cold winters in DC, it's not like women were flocking around half-naked in bikinis. Norman simply found he no longer had any kind of sexual response to women, men, or porn. It didn't matter what he looked at, he had resigned himself to simply being asexual for the time being. He never really worried or thought too much about it, and was actually quite relieved to not be a slave to his penis and sexual whims like most other men. He had been free to focus 110% on his career instead of having to cater to `little Norman' on a daily basis.
So he was shocked when his body had betrayed him yesterday, responding with vivid arousal when he had witnessed Carter exposed and vulnerable before him while he gave the man life-saving CPR and mouth to mouth resuscitation. And now in the shower, as he remembered the Detective's hard, rugged, masculine body, Norman felt a moan escape his mouth. His excitement pulsed through his throbbing organ and Norman couldn't help himself as he foamed up the soap into a frothy lather. Tentatively he took a hold of his shaft with one hand and gave it a quick tug. Norman felt like a 14 year-old boy discovering the sensation of masturbating for the first time. He couldn't believe how good it felt and how much he had been missing all these years.
Norman closed his eyes, picturing himself running his mouth down Carter's neck, using his tongue to trace slow circles around the man's taut nipples. He tugged harder on his member, the soapy lather creating a pleasant, slippery sensation. Norman imagined himself nipping gently at the Detective's firm muscles, his mouth working its way lower across the man's abdomen, all the while Norman's hand began to move faster. He worked his fingers up and down his shaft, palming his length in an upward motion and then flipping his hand around, coming up and over the velvety smooth head and then circling his hand back down the other side. He shifted his wrist and continued the back and forth motion, enjoying the feel of the pressure building up in his scrotum.
He saw himself trail soft, light kisses down Carter's stomach, allowing his warm, wet tongue to dart out and lick a path across the man's navel and through the black, pubic hair sticking out from underneath the waistband of his underwear. Norman leaned his left hand against the shower wall, bracing the full weight of his body on his arm. He tipped his head forward, letting the hot water stream down over his head and back, as he continued to jerk himself harder with his right hand.
The Agent imagined unzipping Carter's slacks, slowly pulling them down the man's legs. He felt his own penis tighten and twitch in his hand as he saw the enormous bulge in Carter's briefs. Norman's mouth watered at the thought of what he was about to reveal. Breathing heavily, he continued to lick his way lower, his hand reaching inside Blake's underwear. He cupped his hand around the Detective's penis, struggling to make his fingers wrap completely around the massive, erect organ.
Startled, Norman suddenly felt Blake's shaft pulse rapidly in his hand and he heard a loud groan. His eyes flicked open and he heard another groan before he realized the sounds were coming from him. His hand was yanking violently on his own erection and a wave of pleasure began to flow up from the depths of his belly. Norman looked down and saw his thick, creamy cum spurt all over the shower wall as his body convulsed with the most delicious sensation. He couldn't believe how big a load he had blown, but seeing as he hadn't had sexual release in years he shouldn't have been surprised.
But the pleasant feeling didn't last long. Norman was immediately repulsed and he felt a wave of disgust and shame replace the blissful sensation he had just experienced. Aiming the showerhead, Norman cleaned off the shower wall and then also rinsed the warm, viscous semen that still clung to his abdomen. He quickly washed off his now shrinking member, being careful not to arouse himself again. His body was spent and weak but he didn't want to dilly dally any longer than necessary in the shower, so he rapidly went through the motions of washing the rest of his body and his hair.
When he was finished, Norman turned off the shower and grabbed a fluffy, white towel from a nearby towel rack. As he stepped out of the shower, his thoughts turned back to Carter, but just as quickly he forced himself to suppress the feelings that had been dormant for so long. Not able to fully articulate if it was disgust at fantasizing about Carter or about sex and masturbating in general, Norman thought it was best if he just pushed the whole matter as far away from the forefront of his mind as possible.
"Get it together Norman!" he scolded himself, as he ran the towel over his wet hair. He half-assed drying his hair and then wrapped the towel around his waist. He looked around the bathroom and noticed a second closed door. Norman assumed it was the en suite that led into Blake's master bedroom. No fuckin' way. He needed to find something to wear since there was no way he could show up at the precinct in his own smelly and bloody clothes, but after the experience he just had in the shower, Norman had no desire to breech the sanctity of Carter's bedroom.
What the hell am I gonna wear? He looked around the bathroom and noticed a hook on the back of one of the doors. On it hung a pair of Blake's pants and a white dress shirt. He walked over and took down the clothes, giving them a perfunctory whiff. They had definitely been worn before and Norman could smell the man's cologne intermingled with slight undertones of Carter's musky body odour. Not an unpleasant smell and Norman felt himself stiffen in response, his penis pressing up against the tightly wrapped towel. Fuck! He took a deep cleansing breath, in through his nostrils and then forced the air slowly out of his clenched lips. Stop…. Thinking…. About….. Him…. Like… that!
Norman decided to recycle another use out of his underwear and socks while he got dressed in Carter's clothing. Although the OCD side of him would have preferred to go commando than wear the same underwear two days in a row, Norman cringed at the idea of being naked against the fabric of Blake's clothes.
Quickly Norman finished getting dressed and realized that Carter's pants were an inch or two too short and the shirt gaped tremendously in the shoulders and across the chest. Norman sighed. Beggars can't be choosers. Luckily the two men were the same waist size and the pants fit perfectly around his midsection. Attempting to look halfway decent, Norman tied his own tie around his neck and fiddled with his still damp hair. Still not satisfied with how his hair looked, after a non-productive hunt for hair gel amongst Blake's bathroom cabinets, Norman gave up and realized he had to get going or he was going to be even more late than he already was.
Leaving the rest of his clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor, Norman raced out to the kitchen to grab his coat, checking to make sure his ARI glasses and glove were still secure in the pocket. He gave Cadence a quick pat on the head. She had taken up a comfortable position on the living room sofa and let out a soft woof of acknowledgement. Norman then scooped up Blake's house key and the key to the Caprice, while leaving the rest of Blake's belongings in the Ziploc bag on the kitchen island where he had dropped them the night before. He locked up the house and stepped outside to call a cab from his cell phone. The wait for the taxi gave Norman plenty of time to think and he couldn't keep his mind from wandering. How had Carter created this sexual awakening in him? And why, of all fucking times, now?
A/N - Wow, so there you have it. I'm actually still quite busy with work, but I do have this long Easter weekend off, so I spent much of tonight writing this chapter. I'm not sure where this scene came from because this wasn't what I had planned to write about tonight at all or even in this scene when I had planned out how my story was going to unfold. There is something truely magical about writing when you just start typing and hours later you get to the end and wonder where on earth the ideas came from! I know I should do another re-read and edit of this chapter, but it's almost 1am and I really just want to post it for you all to read. I'm excited to get some feedback, since it's my first (public) sexual scene. But there is plenty more to come as I continue this story. I'm certainly having fun exploring Norman's character (just wait until I get to Blake!) and I hope you all enjoyed it.
Cave canemmeansBeware of dog