by Charlotte
As his partner took long, heavy strides in toward the showers, Buck Wilmington watched with barely contained desperation. "Ezra?" he asked, and cleared his throat, glancing around. Damn it, the guy was laughing at him. So was Vin for that matter. Buck screwed up his face and his nerve, and ignored it. Let 'em laugh, he needed Chris in the worst way.
"Ezra," he started again, "I'll give you a hundred bucks to make sure nobody goes into that shower for the next ten minutes."
"Two hundred."
"Damn it, now ain't the time!"
"I'd say it's exactly the time," Ezra said, still smiling, and Buck tried hard to be charitable and remember that each of them unwound in his own way. "Supply and demand, after all, and I'd say the demand is--"
"I'll do it for nothin', Buck," Vin cut in, and Buck grinned at the two of them. Vin had done that to bother Ezra as much as to do Buck or Chris a favor.
"I'll take it." With that he peeled off the wet jeans that had been barely restraining his erection and wrapped a towel around his waist. It wasn't polite to point at people, after all.
The shower room was still steamy from whoever had been in here before them, and Buck wondered for a second if his timing was lucky or just insane, because there were fourteen floors of federal employees above them, and anybody could come down here. But Chris stood there not fifteen feet from him, naked under a showerhead, water sluicing down the planes of his back and sheeting over his ass, and Buck didn't really care about luck or timing or consequences. Condensation beaded all over the tile walls, and the sound of spraying water echoed in here. Sunlight filtered through the smoked glass near the ceiling and danced on the water in the air. Tropical, he thought, and pulled his towel away. I need to take him to Cancun.
Chris turned at some sound, and when he spotted Buck his eyes widened. "Oh, no..."
"Yeah," Buck said, half-order, half-plea. "Hell yeah."
Chris's eyes darted toward the shower exit. "Are you out of your mind?" he hissed.
"Yeah," Buck said again, stepping closer, close enough to touch. Chris's body gleamed with sweat and shower water, his hair dark and slicked back onto his head, his pecs shiny and wet, and the tiny pricks of his nipples were pointed and hard. And his eyes... well they were hotter than the water steaming up the room as they swept down Buck's body once, then back.
"What did you do?" Chris demanded, looking again toward the door. But he was trusting, too, because already his dick was firming up and he only shuffled a bare half-step away.
"Vin's watchin' out for us."
Chris groaned. "Oh great, that's just great! He's gonna give me so much hell, I--"
Buck didn't care what else his lover had to say. The job had kept them apart too long, and these last few days had been crammed with tension and fear... this last few hours he hadn't been certain whether Chris had walked into an ambush, and when the fire and the shooting started, it had been all Buck could do to stay focused and do his job.
He grabbed his partner up, one arm wrapped vise-like around Chris's waist, the other curling around his head, elbow crooking and tugging to pull him close. Closer. Chris was all hot, slick, hard planes, and whatever he'd been telling himself, he stopped, because he reached back, clutched, pulled them closer still. Buck buried his face in Chris's shoulder, breathing deeply, glad that Chris hadn't gotten far into his shower so his skin still smelled strong, of dark woods and tangy sweat and the almost sour smell of too much work and fear but it was all Chris, and that was all Buck needed.
He heard a tiny groan escape, like Chris had been trying hard not to release it, and understood that so well, had been holding onto to noises of fear and fury and risk for hours... days... Chris shifted, and fingers sank into Buck's hair to tug at his head. Chris just looked at him, intense gaze burning into him, cutting like a laser right to the heart, then Chris tilted his mouth up and pulled Buck's head down, and all those feelings transmuted right back into lust, defying death, defying loss--their teeth bumped, hard, so Buck adjusted his stance and his head, meshing their mouths together, their lips flattening under the desperate pressure of the kiss. Chris's mouth, hot, wet, smooth, the taste of it so known and necessary and missed, ignited Buck, and he heard his own breath coming through his nose like a snorting bull. He needed--
"Easy," Chris whispered against his teeth, pushing hard against Buck's shoulders to get some distance between them. He didn't like to see Buck like this, didn't like to feel like this. Glancing toward the door, he wondered if Vin would really be able to keep anybody out, wondered if this risk was worth it, but one glance into Buck's eyes, the sweeping awareness of exactly what Buck had been feeling stuck on that roof listening, watching the fire break out, probably calling emergency teams to the perimeter, doing his job and obeying orders and not moving until Chris, inside the building, gave the signal--
He went to his knees, landing hard enough on the wet tiles that there would probably be bruises tomorrow, coming face to face with the seeking erection; smooth, warm, hard, it felt in his hand like an axe handle that had been left in the sun. Chris looked up once, whispered, "I'm right here," then leaned in and sucked Buck down.
He was out of practice, and had to work to take Buck's dick in, to relax his throat and let the suddenly urgent thrust of hips find a place for that thick cock instead of choke him. Resting his palms on water-slick, hairy thighs, he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath, smelling the strong musk of hours spent waiting, the intangible but wholly identifiable scent that was all Buck, and let go. Lips over teeth, sucking strongly against the in-and-out thrust, he didn't expect it to take long, and after several hard strokes he reached one hand to his own groin to try and ease the ache there. Buck must've felt his hips move, or some shift in his weight, because a second later Buck's thrusts stuttered then stilled, and a big hand cupped his chin. Slowly Buck eased his cock out, and Chris tightened his lips around it, reluctant to give it up. He shifted his jaw back and forth and looked up.
"What?"
"It can wait," Buck muttered and dropped to the floor as well. Chris didn't have time to complain before Buck's knees slid outside his own and the warmth of his partner's body overcame the warmth from the shower that still splashed water against his back. Arms encircled him again, drawing him in close, and Chris just let Buck hold him, trying with every breath to reassure that he was alive, and fine, and that he'd try not to get them all into this position again because later, after the adrenalin and fear had faded, Buck was gonna be pissed.
Chris knelt up to get himself closer to Buck and their cocks bumped and rubbed, the electric thrill of it chasing through his body. Buck's breath still came hard and fast, and Chris understood that kind of fear and tension, understood it all too well.
"You don't have to wait," he breathed, irritated with himself for giving in, for needing this almost as much as Buck did. "Don't want you to. But you make a single sound when you come," he warned, "and I'll kick the shit out of you later." Buck drew away far enough to look at him, and Chris got swept up again in the need there, in the emotion that threatened to overflow into words, or shouts, or tears. Better this way. "Get us up off this floor," he said simply, "and I'll fuck you."
An unimaginably short time later he felt hands under his armpits practically dragging him to his feet. Then Buck turned and hugged the tile wall, feet wide, knees bent a little. As Chris watched, Buck reached back with one hand and grabbed a butt cheek, spreading himself. "Do it," Buck muttered.
He didn't need telling twice. Jesus. Settling for spit, Chris wetted his fingers and rubbed them over Buck's hole because water was a shitty lubricant and no way did they have the time or inclination to go and find something. He lined up his cock and pushed, fighting the resistance. Penetration burned, and he heard Buck's quiet hiss even as Buck spread himself wider and pushed back against him. Not just stretching muscle, but chafing skin; if he wasn't careful they'd both be limping out of here.
With more spit, more rubbing around the seal of Buck's body and his own cock, he eased further in. Buck blew out a breath and Chris felt that telltale loosening, that tiny release of tension and arousal that said Buck's body was more ready for him. He slid his arms around Buck's waist, laid his cheek on the warm skin of Buck's shoulder, and humped as if his life depended on it. One of Buck's hands wrapped around one of Chris's, and the other reached back, fingers splayed along the side of Chris's hip.
"Chris..."
"I'm right here," he said again, and it seemed only seconds before Buck was biting back groans, his hands clenching on Chris's forearm and ass. "Right here..." he repeated, brushing his forehead against Buck's back to wipe the sweat off his brow. "Right..." This wasn't the best position. It didn't afford the deepest penetration that Buck loved, or the chance for them to look into each other's eyes that Chris knew they both needed right now. But it was good enough, and far better, to know that for the next several hours when they were breaking down the job to Travis and two senior advisors, he'd feel that telltale weakness in his groin, and watch Buck fidget in his chair, just a little.
"Ah damn it, harder... yeah... just like..." He could barely hear Buck's whispered voice over the shower spray but he obeyed it, snapping his hips harder, drawing his hands back to grasp Buck's hipbones and angle him out a little more so that every time he buried his cock inside Buck's ass, he was hitting the sweet spot, could tell it from the way Buck's hips twitched and jerked. "Chris..."
"Come for me," Chris gasped, and shot his load deep inside his partner. He lost his rhythm and, terrified he was leaving Buck behind, slid his hand down and grabbed Buck's cock in a punishing grip, kneading it, pulling--Buck's fingers dug into his hip with bruising force, and Buck's whole body seized, hips jackknifing forward and then back, muscles clenching tight everywhere... everywhere. Chris whimpered, pressing his mouth tight to Buck's shoulder to stifle the sound. Ah God... oh, damn.
He had to hold on tight to keep Buck from trying to slide down the wall. "Come on," he ordered, light-headed and shaking, "get a hold of yourself."
Buck's laughter came breathy and faint. "Yeah... yeah." Chris eased out and Buck turned, grabbing him up again, and as violent as their first kiss had been, this kiss was as gentle, a feather-like touch of lips and tongues.
Sounds from the locker room intruded; slamming doors, the rattle of a padlock--Ezra's laughter and Vin's overloud voice making a rude joke. When Buck drew back, his eyes automatically tracked to the shower door and Chris sighed, thinking God really must protect fools.
"Gotta get cleaned up," Buck said softly.
"Yeah." They moved apart from each other and Buck turned on a shower a few feet down the wall.
Three minutes later they both headed out to the lockers, and Buck grinned as Chris went absolutely pale. Right in front of Chris's locker stood two guys from Team Four, where Vin and Ezra had obviously cornered them. They looked as grimy as Buck had felt fifteen minutes ago, and had obviously only just made it back from the crime scene.
"Hey," Buck called out to cover for Chris's panic, "you guys just hang around jawin' all day? Don't you have any work to do?"
"Look who's talking," John Peters shot back, and Ezra eased away from them both and moved to his own locker, where he hung up his shirt and tie and pulled out a black tee shirt.
"Slummin' it today, Ez?" Buck said as he thumbed his own locker open.
"If I'm with you people, I'm always slumming it, Buck," he said casually. "The attire hardly compensates."
Vin pushed out of his boneless lean against the wall. "Hurry it up, I'm sick a' waiting for you all."
Buck met Chris's eyes over Peters' head to share a quiet look: we're okay.
And they were.
Later, when Buck decided to rip him a new asshole for this fucked up job, they wouldn't be. But for now, with an ache in his backside that reminded him how very much alive, and how much a part of him, Chris was, they were just fine.
*the end*