TITLE: Happy Halloween
AUTHOR: Nymph Du Pave
DISCLAIMER: L&O: SVU belongs to Dick Wolf, NBC and whoever else. I have nothing but a sick desire to play with the characters created by them. I earn no wages, just want to have fun.
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: nymph_du_pave@hotmail.com
AUTHOR'S NOTE: About this particular chapter: So many people put Munch as the "agressor" or more foreward character when it comes to any Munch/Cassidy slash. Now, I love this so very much, and it really fits him but, then again, so does being the more "unsure" and receptive one. The only other ones I could find that had Cassidy as the instigator {also happening to be the first M/C slash I ever read] were Iris Gray's sweet duo: There's A First Time for Everything and The Morning After. So this chapter is sort of dedicated to her :o)
PS: If anyone else loves Munch being the instigator, you should definately check out De Orakle's Kink series. Simply the best when it comes to sexual tension. A talented author I really look up to.
Happy Halloween
CHAPTER TWO: Munch's Sweet Tooth
Olivia deserted me almost the moment we entered the warm, almost humid loft, muttering her thanks for the ride and something about getting a drink. I had watched her go wanting to say something about betrayal, but at the moment I doubted my ostensibly forlorn friend would have found the sarcasm humorous. I tried to think of possible reasons for Olivia's melancholy, but came up with the same thing that haunts most of us: loneliness. It's just the type of thing that some take better than others.
So I wandered around a bit talking to a few people I recognized, but no one that really kept my nomadic attention occupied. I had seen my partner come in with the redheaded addition to our group, but instead of moving to greet him, I remapped my route for the opposite direction, mentally astute to the manner at which he was gazing at the psychological advisor. I figured he didn't need me bogging him down.
I grabbed a greedy plateful of artery blockers and teeth disintegraters and headed to an empty spot on a couch in a darkened area of the loft. I realized only too late that I was actually sitting in a group consisting of the teenaged sons and daughters of my companions on the force. None of them even gave me a second glance as they all watched the bigscreen TV, 3D glasses on, some laughing, some giving joyous grimaces at the content. I looked in time to catch a killer with a harpoon gun shoot the projectile straight into the eye of a young woman in water. I winced, figuring sardonically that this'd be the place I would have ended up. As the crowd of kids laughed at the 3D popcorn in the next scene, I wondered why the hell I was sitting here doing this to myself.
You'd never be able to guess it, but I'm not really one for horror movies. At least not the more recent cookie-cutter, machete wielding slashers. I hate the gore. I see it all of the time, real carnage which is even worse, but there's still something about the silver screen capturing it in all of it's over-saturated, gruesome glory that I cannot bare. I like to stick with the classics and more mentally enlightening material.
I stood and meandered around the huddled kids, hoping to find another sanctuary in which to eat my wealth of goodies. They really were the reason I came. Well, that and the company. I was hoping to run into a few people. Briscoe would be here, but that was no real biggy. Monique Jeffries and Brian Cassidy. They were the biggies. Specifically the former.
Jeffries, of course, was a wonderful woman, just my type [that is if I still had a type of woman]: sarcastic, witty and clever. But Brian was different, he was refreshing. I missed him something fierce and was in dire need of seeing his face.
Don't get me wrong, though. I wouldn't want him as my partner again. Finn is by far the better SVU detective. He can handle the crimes, the deaths, the disgusting and unnatural killers. Most importantly he can handle the mental baggage that comes with the victims, especially the live and so very needy victims.
That had been Brian's problem. It had started affecting his view of the world, had started to bring him down. And when the momentary happiness he found with Olivia turned out to be just that, momentary, he had sunken lower into the depths of the depression that can be the SVU to a younger, less jaded uniform.
I'm just glad he got out before it changed him, before it all deformed him. He was tough, bright and enthusiastic about being a cop and catching the bad guys. Just not with our unit, and I could understand that. As much as I want to have him near, as much as I needed a little bit of that daily rejuvenation, I wouldn't want to risk that lovable energy, that aura about him. I would hate to see a world in which Brian Cassidy could not find a smile.
After about ten minutes of walking and eating, I had had enough candy to replace my teeth's coating of enamel permanently with sugar and caramel [not to mention chocolate], but had yet to find either of my old partners. I still wanted more food and headed back to the table. As I walked by the window I happened to glance outside and saw him coming out of the haunted house with Monique, laughing hard.
Just the sight of Cassidy, even from a full story up, sent a tingle down my spine and I put my plate down on the nearest horizontal surface. I tried to maneuver around people that seemed to have suddenly appeared out of nowhere, most likely sent by Greek gods with a single purpose: crowd around the person most eager to get to someone he desperately wanted to see, therefore immobilizing him. My frantic manner and matching heartbeat had no doubt attracted the attention of the deities and their foot soldiers, but even they were no match for my desperation. I rudely pushed my way through my colleagues and strangers siting a difference of opinion with my stomach.
"Too much candy, huh?" Briscoe called out and I waved, but kept going. I tried to keep my pride by taking the steps two at a time instead of four, and wondered why the hell my ex-partner did this to me. Anytime there was a chance that I'd be anywhere in the same vicinity as him, I got more alert, more jumpy and more...
Well, "more" would have to suffice, for I had not the word to describe what else I was, and if I did, fear of the unknown would most likely hinder the use of it.
I opened the loft's doors leading to the back patio which was lit with tiki-torches and playing softer music. I saw couples dancing and realized immediately how out of place I was in this romantic setting. I made my way down the steps, my eyes traversing the backyard, frenzied for a sign of Cassidy but I found none. I leaned up against the railing and sighed softly, looking up at the twinkling stars in the black velvet of the sky. For a moment I contemplated heading home.
"John! Hey, man!" I turned to watch the younger detective bounce his way down the steps, hand in hand with Monique.
Now, feelings of jealousy and pure envy directed solely at Jeffries was not at all what I had expected. Yet my eyes lingered on the clasped hands in a sort of morbid fascination. Surely if I stared hard enough and long enough, a hole would begin to burn into them. I wished I had the corny, yet seemingly unbeatable powers of General Zod from Superman 2.
As they walked around to stand in front of me, still leaning suavely against the railing, the hands came undone, and I looked into the two faces of my old friends. The jealousy crumpled as fast as the snake on the ground in Ursa's view, and I was just happy to see them. It was a bit awkward and somewhat silent at first, but then I just laughed and moved to hug Monique.
Her laughter, which had been seized from my ears quite some time ago, was now quite the reward. "It's so good to see you, geek."
I pulled back and gave Brian a quick hug as well. Only with him I couldn't help noticing the way his hands smoothed over my back as our chests briefly touched. The way my heart sped up as his face pressed to mine in an ephemeral moment.
The way I wanted to pull him so much closer.
He pulled back. "Surprised to see you here. This really isn't your type of gig, is it?"
I shook my head, not willing to admit even to myself how much I had wanted to stay within that welcome and somewhat familiar embrace. Not wanting to admit how good it had felt to be held, even for just a moment, by Cassidy. "Not really. They have free candy."
Even as I caught my ex-partner's knowing smile, I cursed myself for my words. 'They have free candy?' Was that even me speaking?
"Well, even if it's not your thing, you should really check out that place," started Monique, jerking her thumb towards the haunted house. "It's hilarious. Kinda creepy, but great if you're buzzed just right." Her laugh and smile died away as she looked towards the ground. "Listen, John. Do you know if Benson's here or what?"
I nodded, surprised by the abrupt sobriety of her question. The two women had always gotten along very well, but had never, as far as I knew, converged past the precinct walls. I frowned wondering if there was something she couldn't talk to a man about. "Is everything okay?"
She looked up and smiled one of her don't be silly smiles. "Of course. I just have something I want to talk to her about."
I nodded again. Women and their damned mysteries. "The last time I spoke to her was when we got here, about half an hour ago. I think she was headed toward the bar."
Monique nodded, gave me another, quicker hug and a peck on the cheek, then left. I turned to Brian, an odd expression graced his boyish face.
"What?"
"Come on, old man," he said grabbing my arm and pulling me with him. We followed a path of ceramic and stained glass stones, looking down at them in silence. After a moment I took a deep breath wondering how to broach the question on my mind. I decided straightforward was best. "So, you and Jeffries are..."
Well, so much for straightforward, I thought as I lost my nerve and trailed off.
To my surprise the odd expression came back, more pronounced and probing. He shook his head. "No, John."
Firm no.
We walked on the outskirts of the party for a while, to the edge of the property, a covered pool to the right and a gazebo close to our left. We had been talking a little about what we had been up to recently, but our conversation was stilted and half-hearted. I kept looking up to all of the happy Halloweeners, and as we walked up to the little pavilion, I began to really notice my disheartening place amongst them: an outsider distant from the happy coterie, watching instead of being. More of a voyeurish recipient than a conscious and active mortal.
An extra in life's little theatrical production.
"Cheerful observation," I mumbled to myself, breaking the sheltered silence.
"What?" asked Brian. He had walked up into the gazebo and turned to me while I had been party gazing. I followed him up noticing how he had his usual pose going for him: the somewhat hunched shoulders and hands pocketed.
"Nothing, merely-" I reached the platform and looked into his eyes, swallowing hard. The emotions I saw forced my throat to contract, making it impossible to finish my sentence. There was raw lust in those intense azure eyes. Raw lust for me.
Before I could even contemplate what that meant, his lips were on me, pressing eagerly to mine, and my eyes shut tight on reflex. Long ago I had forced myself to cease thoughts of what this would feel like; an intimate moment with Brian, an intimate expression of pent up desires and actions never taken for fear of rejection and dismissal. But here it was, not just in my thoughts, but live. All of my wishes and desires came screaming back at me revealing that they had never left, just carefully stowed themselves away.
He pulled back mere seconds after the kiss began and I opened my eyes. "Bri?" My voice was low and gruff, practically unrecognizable, even to my own ears.
He stepped closer and placed his thumb and forefinger on my chin, staring at my mouth with rapt attention. "Yes?"
"Could you put my glasses in my pocket?"
He was still focused on my mouth. "Why don't you?"
"Because I'm lucky I'm still able to talk. I don't want to push it."
He let go of my chin and pushed my glasses down the bridge of my nose. When his eyes met mine, I saw something undeniably rich in texture. Something that coming from a woman's gaze, I would have called tender and knowing love, but I was still too uncertain of my own heart and feelings to know what could be coming from the younger man.
Whatever it was, I knew he saw a mirrored image within my own.
After a moment, a slow and satisfied smile appeared on his face. Eyes never leaving mine, he gently removed my glasses, placing them in the breast pocket of my suit. He then stepped even closer, our bodies almost touching, and his eyes dropped to focus again on my mouth.
I wanted to tell him everything then and there, but I didn't know where to start, or what to tell him about. The attraction that I had dared not let myself feel for as long as I'd known him? How he made me feel physically and, well, emotionally? How much I wanted to kiss him again, and this time let it last?
What should I say first? It seemed incredibly important. "Listen, I wan-"
The words died away as his hand moved up to caress my face, his thumb making a trail around the bottom lip still in his view. "Sometimes it's best to just forget the words and act, John."
"Yeah?"
He looked at me nodding, and I took that as permission to go ahead. But going ahead was harder than following his lead. My breath was shallow and my hands trembled as I inched my way to his mouth. I could sense myself freezing up, and I stopped close enough to his lips that I could feel his warm breath washing over my parted lips and into my mouth. I closed my eyes, the sensation causing vibrations all up and down, stirring something in my abdomen.
For once in my adult life, I didn't know how to take control of a situation. It scared and exhilarated me at the same time. "Help me, please?" I begged, checking what little pride I had at the door.
The hand that had been caressing my face moved to cup the back of my neck and pulled my mouth to his. His lips were now closed, waiting for me to make my move. With the courage he had given me I opened my own just a little more and stroked his smooth lips tenderly with my tongue. He opened his mouth, allowing me to softly probe. After a moment, he began his own exploration, and I shivered as he deliberately ran his tongue along the roof of my mouth, subtly taking over the kiss. He delved a little longer then gently started to pull away, but after waiting for so very long for this moment, there was no way it was going to be over before I wanted it to. I grabbed his face and locked it in position, my tongue becoming a more eager hunter and his the willing prey. I kissed him harder, sucking his tongue into my mouth, and a delicious jolt of electricity ran through me when I heard his moan of frustrated passion. This only increased the ferocity of the embrace, the moment, both of us moving violently against each others mouths, trying to show years of heat and admiration and, yes, love. Our balance was thrown off and I stumbled backward and into one of the columns of the small gazebo, but our lips never parted. He pulled me over to the heavy lattice railing where my hands braced themselves on top of the wooden enclosure, his arms wrapping themselves around my waist and pulling me closer. As we had to catch our breath, we broke off the more intense part of the kiss, but still nipped at each other lips, savoring taste, texture and, most importantly, the intrinsic and visceral contact.
The kiss stopped all together and he pulled back to look at me, not releasing me from his grasp. I could see the needy vulnerability in those beautiful deep blue eyes, and I breathed in deeply, pressing my face to his neck before letting it out. A second later his own sigh followed.
"Wow." His voice is cracked and a little weak. "Happy Halloween, Munch."
I laughed a good, deep laugh. He would never know just how right those words were. I try to speak, but it comes out a feeble whisper. "Happy Halloween."
On to the next couple!
