Keeping the Faith

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own CSI: Miami, or any of the characters. I just write the smut, okay? No money made here.

This is the companion story to my “New York State of Mind,” which can be found in the CSI: NY section. After thinking hard for a little bit, I had a brainstorm. This is another one of those “Speed is alive!” fics, but nothing so dramatic as him faking his autopsy or something like that. No, “Lost Son” went down differently in my book. Read on, and find out what I mean.

By the way, I can see where you people get the whole “faking the autopsy” deal. I watched “Lost Son” again while writing this, in the "Tributes to Tim Speedle" section on the CSI Miami wiki, and I saw Speed’s eyes flicker more than once. Poor Rory Cochrane, having to lay there on that cold steel table while Khandi Alexander strips him.

Recall a discussion they had a few episodes prior:
Speed: “Need some help with that?”
Alexx: “Nah. I can undress a dead man in my sleep.”
Speed: “Leaving that one alone.”

And yes, I’m going to keep using Billy Joel songs. Horatio was originally a detective in New York before moving to Miami, and Speed was born in Syracuse. And Mac’s going to make an appearance, simply because the idea of him going clubbing with H and Speed just won’t leave me alone. And Miami is sometimes called the “Sixth Borough,” so yes, the New York vibe is still present somewhat.

Oh, and if somebody could send me a review or email to tell me how to un-hide my email address in my profile.

EDIT as of 10/28/07: I'm running through the old chapters and doing some "cleaning up," just fixing things that have been bugging me for a while. Nothing really major, just... I'm kinda a perfectionist when it comes to my writing


This chapter’s warnings: M/M, oral, anal, soloM (implications), BDSM (implications), some violence, homophobic jerkoffs

This chapter’s pairings: Horatio/Speed

Seen the lights go out on Broadway
I saw the Empire State laid low
And life went on beyond the Palisades
They all bought Cadillacs
And left there long ago

They held a concert out in Brooklyn
To watch the island bridges blow
They turned our power down
And drove us underground
But we went right on with the show

Billy Joel – "Miami 2017 (Seen The Lights Go Out On Broadway)"

It was hot and humid… but then, when isn’t it hot and humid in Miami? Lieutenant Horatio Caine was just walking on a concrete path away from his latest suspect’s house, seemingly oblivious to the heat beating down on his shoulders. Behind him, Tim Speedle looked distinctly uncomfortable as he carried his crime-scene kit, wearing a longsleeve blue button-up shirt and black slacks. Why in the hell had he dressed up today?

Oh, that’s right, Horatio made him do it. Why? Because it was Horatio’s shirt. And pants. And the pants were slightly too long, by the way, but thanks for asking.

And why was Tim wearing Horatio’s shirt? And Horatio’s pants?

Why, because Tim’s own perfectly good Lynard Skynard T-shirt and snug stonewashed jeans were in Horatio’s laundry.

Why was Tim’s clothing in Horatio’s laundry?

Tim grunted and figured that it was easier to start with effects than with causes. Say, for instance, the effects of spilled wine on his vintage T-shirt… and spilled semen on his pants? Caused by none other than the man whose clothing he now wore.

“Dammit, H, I liked that shirt.” Tim started bitching out of the blue.

Horatio snorted. “The wine will come out, Speed.”

“And what about your cum-stain on my pants?” Tim growled, lugging his crime-kit. “I mean, not that I mind your cum on my pants, but I’d hate to show up at a crime scene and we need to use the ALS, and somebody suddenly greenlights my ass by accident. That might lead to awkward questions.”

Horatio tilted his head, not looking back. “Perhaps you should stop wearing pants that tight to work, then.”

“H!” Tim exploded. “I was at your house, taking a nap, asleep face-down on your couch! You couldn’t wake me up!?”

“So that’s what this is about,” Horatio said mildly. “You’re mad because I wasted a perfectly good mouthful.”

“Damn right!”

Horatio twitched a smile where Speed couldn’t see it. They were like darkness and light, the two of them. Where Speed was laid-back and casual, Horatio was intense and uptight. Tim was a bit freer with his language, too; Horatio rarely swore, but when he did… his smile grew as he recalled the look on that retired Marines drill instructor’s face when Horatio had finally run out of steam.

Despite the fact that both of them had Ireland somewhere in their heritage, only Horatio looked it. Tall, with wavy red hair and shocking blue eyes, he was a perfect contrast to Speedle, who was a bit shorter and beset with black hair and eyes the color of melted chocolate.

Horatio had told him how much he loved Tim’s eyes numerous times, and each time Tim had responded along the lines of ‘Yeah, I’m so full of shit, you can see it.’ Then he’d grin and tackle Horatio like a playful puppy as they rolled about on the couch, or the bed, or the floor, or in the backseat, or wherever they happened to be at the time.

Tim wasn’t picky.

Except when it came to his men, and there was no finer in the world than Horatio. Women just didn’t do it for him, which was something he still hadn’t gotten around to telling his parents. His mother was always asking him if he’d found any nice girls lately. The only nice girls he’d found lately—hell, ever—usually ended up being not-so-nice. The kind of not-nice that he usually associated with handcuffs and orange jumpsuits.

Tim didn’t really understand women; they were so damn complicated, with their makeup and their gossip and their scheming, lying ways. Now, he knew that not all of them were like that. He knew a few really nice and honest women, in fact. It was just that most of them made him recall the Greek legend of the Sirens, and we all know how that one turned out. He also felt that, no offense to his mother, but a woman’s private anatomy was one of the most disgusting things Speed had ever encountered. It had only been his second time screwing a girl, when he’d just started fucking, that he noticed that she was on her period, and the mood had died instantly. Since that moment, Tim’s unspoken motto became: ‘Never sleep with anything that bleeds for five days straight and doesn’t die.’

Horatio didn’t share his views, Tim knew. Horatio would still glance sideways at women every now and then, but Tim didn’t mind, because he knew that Horatio would always come back to him. In fact, Horatio had to glance at women from time to time, because if he didn’t, it wouldn’t take long for others to do the math, especially as often as he went to Horatio’s place. Even Eric, his best friend, was starting to give him funny looks at how often he went over to Horatio’s.

‘Isn’t there something in the regs about how a supervisor isn’t supposed to fraternize with the people under his command?’ Delko had asked once.

Tim had shrugged. ‘Probably, but it’s no big deal. H is cool with it.’

‘So what do you guys do over there? I mean, you go over so often.’

Tim thought fast. He couldn’t say cars, because Eric loved cars and would want to come over, and Tim really didn’t want to think about what Eric’s face would look like if he walked in and saw his best friend flat on his back on the dining room table and with his boss fucking him in the ass.

Not a pretty picture.

So, Speed had thought desperately, and come up with ‘Cooking. I’m teaching H how to cook some of the stuff that my Mom taught me when I was a kid.”

Delko had stared at him. ‘You cook?’

‘Yeah,’ Tim had said, suddenly defensive. ‘And I don’t want a lot of people to know about it, either.’

‘Why not? I mean, nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘It’s not that, it’s… well, to be honest, H can’t cook worth a damn, and I didn’t want to embarrass him.’

Somehow, some way, as if God was mocking him, Delko bought it. Speed couldn’t believe that Eric had bought the story that he’d just pulled out of thin air. And Eric still hadn’t picked up on the fact that Tim was gay—and if he had, he’d been kind enough to not say anything.

“Speed?” Horatio’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“Yeah, H?”

“We’re at the Hummer now.” The redhead’s mouth twitched in amusement. “Put your kit in the back, will you? We’re off to McCauley Jewelers.”


“Nice Rolls. Bet it belongs to the owner,” Speed remarked as they climbed out of the Hummer. “Cars are such a bad investment. I’m just happy to have my bike.”

Horatio snorted as they strode up to the front entrance of the jewelry store. “Someday you may need something with doors.”

“Well, I’ve got plenty of time for that.” Speed shrugged dismissively. “And what do I need doors for? I’d rather have maneuverability than drive a tank.” He paused as Horatio held the door open for him. “If I don’t wanna get hit, I’ll just get out of the way.”

Horatio gave a dark smile as he leaned close to the younger man. “I think it’s somewhere in the American dream, how every man needs to have sex in the backseat of something at least once. And not just in the company car, either.” Tim swallowed as he walked past.

As soon as the door closed behind them, a switch flipped and Horatio was all business. “We’re here to see Mr. McCauley, please,” he said calmly, hands on his hips to casually push aside his dress jacket, showing the gleaming badge on one hip and his gun on the other.

The man before them blinked. He was thin, looked foreign, some sort of Arabic descent. “Oh, Mr. McCauley is the previous owner,” he said in a salesman’s courteous tone. “I’m the new owner. Rudolph Koehler; call me Rudy.” He tossed a glance over his shoulder before turning to face the redhead fully. “Maybe I can help you with something, Officer? I’d be more than happy to help the police.”

Something niggled at Tim’s mind; this guy just seemed… off. Too casual. He took a cautious look around the store, hand finding the butt of his gun without really knowing why. His gaze was drawn to two pretty young women standing behind a counter, their faces covered with fake smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes.

“Yes, I’ve recently been speaking with your customer, Mrs. Tawny Williams,” Horatio was saying, just as Speed noticed movement in the back. Behind a glass wall, a man was crouched underneath a table, something in his hands making a noise that made Tim’s stomach clench. Slowly he released the strap that held his weapon snug in its holster.

“Yes, I just heard the news about her husband,” the man, Rudy, mentioned to Horatio. “It’s tragic. She’s such a nice lady.”

Horatio wasn’t really listening; he’d picked up on Speed’s tense posture, noticed the hand pulling out the gun. “Excuse me. Speed?” The redhead stepped over to his subordinate, blue eyes following Speed’s gaze. “Stay put,” he whispered hoarsely to Rudy as his hand went for his own gun.

Rudy kept talking. “She and her husband were very good customers,” he said with calm insistence, as though Horatio had said something unflattering about the couple.

Horatio was now next to his partner, sharp CSI eyes locking onto the movement that had caught Speed’s attention, his SIG-Sauer appearing in his hand. Horatio glanced at his lover, noting a mask of nervous fear. Horatio knew that Speed hated guns, and he hoped to God that his weapon had been cleaned recently. More movement in the back of the workshop demanded the redhead’s attention; time seemed to slow as a door in the back of the workroom nudged open and a man stepped through, a handgun clearly visible.

“Speed!” Horatio snapped out the warning as the assailant brought his weapon up. Tim brought his own weapon to bear, taking aim and squeezing the trigger in a spasm of nerves. He heard the snap of the mechanism, felt the too-loud click of the firing pin, and—nothing! Speed’s mind swam with panicked curses as he glanced at his useless weapon. Jammed, again!

Horatio let two rounds fly just as the armed man released a few of his own, the firecracker pops of gunfire sending the young ladies cowering to the ground, screaming. Glass shattered and Tim looked up, seeing the standing man fall to his lover’s weapon, and suddenly a burning pain exploded in his right shoulder, accompanied by a wet thunking noise and the hideous crack of lead against bone.

Speed dropped, pain overwhelming his senses. It was as though he’d been stabbed by a red-hot fire poker, his nerves screaming in agony as the heat seemed to blossom and engulf his entire arm. His hand twitched mindlessly, and he knew that his shoulder was suddenly useless. Through the roar of blood in his ears, he made out the sounds of glass cascading to the ground, of Horatio shooting at the other man who had scrambled out from under the table and was making a break for the rear entrance of the store.

Another man came out of the back, gun at the ready, and Horatio instinctively dropped into a forward roll, rising to his knees and squeezing off a few more rounds as the man disappeared.

And then it was quiet, guns silent, glass shards having finished falling. Horatio glanced around checking for other attackers and for injured, and his eyes locked onto the beloved figure lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

“Speed!” Horatio roared, moving to his fallen lover’s side.

Horatio ripped the phone off his belt, stabbing a button. “This is CSI Caine! We have a priority here! I got a man down, shots fired!” He let the phone clatter to the floor beside him, already ignoring the Dispatcher’s voice. Eyes frantic, Horatio reached into his jacket and pulled out his handkerchief, pressing it desperately to the gushing fountain in his lover’s shoulder. “You’re going to be okay, Speed. Look at me. You’re going to be okay. You’ll be fine.” He chanted the words like a mantra, and Tim couldn’t tell who he was trying to reassure.

“I… I can’t feel… my arm. Oh, God, H,” Tim’s eyes were wide with fear and pain.

“Easy, partner. You’re going to be okay, just hang in there. Just keep breathing, Speed.” Horatio’s eyes flicked to the blood-soaked handkerchief, now beginning to puddle with the blood seeping through.

“H,” Tim’s voice pleaded. “H, I can’t feel my arm!”

“I know, I know. It’s okay, Speed. You’re still alive. You’ll get through this, I promise.” Horatio leaned closer, his right thumb pressing hard into the wound, his left hand snaking across Tim’s belly to grab the wounded man’s own left. “I’m right here, Speed. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

Weakly Tim’s fingers threaded with Horatio’s, glazed brown eyes locked onto Horatio’s misty blue ones. “I… don’t leave me, H. I don’t wanna go.”

Horatio blinked back tears that he hadn’t realized he’d been shedding. “I’m not going anywhere, partner, and neither are you.” He squeezed Speed’s hand roughly, commanding attention. “You’re not going anywhere, you hear me? Stay. Right. Here.”

Tim nodded weakly, the blood in his shoulder leaking around Horatio’s hand to seep slowly onto the floor. “H… you’re here… why would I want to be anywhere else?”

Horatio gave a sad smile at that, his attention temporarily diverted by the sounds of sirens nearby, and tires screeching to the pavement outside. With precision that should have made it into a movie, an ambulance spun around and slid to a stop in reverse, tires nearly clipping the sidewalk. The rear doors slammed open, medical personnel pouring out, lugging bags and machines and tugging a gurney. “Speed,” Horatio half-crushed the wounded man’s hand again, grabbing his attention. “Rescue’s here, Speed. Just hang on for me, okay?”

Speed shuddered, the pain finally sending him into shock. “You… got it, H.”

The glass doors of McCauley Jewelers flew open as the uniforms descended on Horatio and Speed, and Horatio gave Speed’s hand one last reassuring squeeze and scooted backwards, letting the professionals do their work. The EMTs jabbered back and forth between each other in clipped tones, barking things about vitals and blood pressure as one of them ripped Speed’s borrowed shirt open, buttons pinging all around them.

One of them removed Horatio’s handkerchief and let it plop to the floor, substituting a tightly rolled wad of gauze and stuffing it into the wound, and Speed gave a cry of pain. “He’s going into shock!” another paramedic yelled, and one jabbed a needle into the younger man’s arm.

Horatio watched it all, rooted to the spot. “Horatio!” A female voice grabbed his attention, and he looked over to see Calleigh and Alexx charging the doors at a dead run. Calleigh stood next to her boss while Alexx joined the huddle. “Dr. Alexx Woods, Medical Examiner, former ER doc. What have you got?”

“Horatio,” Calleigh asked urgently. “Is that Speedle? What happened?”

“I… there were two gunmen, and Speed drew first. He felt something, and I didn’t even notice until his weapon was out. There was… a lot of confusion.”

“Easy,” she soothed, resting a hand on his shoulder. The voices of Alexx and the medics were starting to slow, becoming less frantic, and Horatio took that to be a good sign. “I need to start processing firearms as soon as possible. The faster I do that, the sooner we can track down the other shooter.”

Horatio nodded and took a shaky breath. “Here’s my gun,” he said as he slipped it from the holster—funny, he didn’t remember ever securing it. “Speed’s is right over there,” he pointed, and Calleigh snapped on some gloves and picked up Speed’s gun with one hand, taking Horatio’s with her other.

“Is there anything I need to know about the shooting?” Her voice held only the barest hint of a waver, remaining calm and professional despite the adrenaline pounding through both of them.

Horatio cleared his throat, ducking his head. “Speed… he may have had to look at his gun.” His eyes remained locked onto the floor, the implications of that statement plain to both of them. “Not again,” he breathed quietly to himself, his tone so low that Calleigh almost didn’t hear him.

A flurry of motion attracted his attention, and he looked up to see Alexx and the medics moving Tim onto the gurney. “You guys take it from here, and take good care of him!” Alexx demanded. She helped to hold the doors open as the little group wheeled their charge carefully to the waiting ambulance. The doors had scarcely slammed shut when the ambulance peeled off, leaving a neat little parking space for a familiar car to pull into.

“IAB, that was fast,” Horatio growled, suddenly not in the mood. Rick Stetler climbed out of the car, heading for the crime scene.

“I’m out,” Calleigh announced. “Even faster.” She tossed him a lighthearted grin, snapping the locks shut on her crime kit. “I have all the guns, and I’ll process them first of all. Bring me the bullets as soon as you find them, okay?”

Horatio nodded as Calleigh stepped out, pausing to sign with the Front Officer before heading for the Hummer. Stetler stepped around her, pausing to watch her for a moment, before signing in and heading straight for Horatio. “That was quick,” the redhead said in an edgy rumble.

“How is he?” Stetler asked, body language defensive.

“He’s stable,” Alexx answered the question, pulling off her bloody gloves. “I’m worried about that arm, Horatio. He’ll live, but he’ll be damn lucky if he can get it to work properly again. That shoulder was blown completely apart.”

Stetler sighed and rubbed his neck. “Great, now you’ve got a CSI out of commission. Wonderful way to start off my report.”

“Rick, can’t this wait? The bullets are still hot.” Horatio heaved a sigh, already knowing the answer but having to ask anyway.

Stetler’s face apologized, but his tone was all business. “Unfortunately, that’s the best time for me to be here. Where’s Speedle’s weapon?”

“See Calleigh,” Horatio growled.

“And yours?”

“See. Calleigh.” The growl became more of a snarl.

“You know, you should sit down with a counselor,” Rick suggested, seemingly oblivious to the redhead clenching his fists, all but baring his teeth like an angry dog.

Horatio squared his shoulders. “Only therapy I need is finding the Williams boy, but thanks for the offer,” he snapped as he strode out the door, where he was met by Yelina. Wonder of wonders, she’d already bagged the man who called himself Rudy Koehler.

“Patrol picked him up two blocks away. He only speaks Bulgarian,” Yelina informed him in her slight Hispanic accent. “Now we’re waiting on a translator.”

“I am not going to wait,” Horatio growled as he stalked toward the man.

“Horatio!” Yelina hissed urgently, grabbing his arm. “Film at eleven!” She tilted her head in the direction of the crowd behind the yellow tape, reporters and cameramen at the forefront, and Horatio got the message. He turned to the captive.

“I’m going to put you in the car,” Horatio stated with a calm he didn’t feel, eyes throwing daggers at the handcuffed man, and Koehler swallowed nervously and allowed himself to be seated in the back of the police cruiser.

Horatio rested an elbow on the roof of the car, shoulders hunched with suppressed rage as he glowered at the man. “Where’s the boy?” he rumbled.

Nervously Koehler’s gaze flicked everywhere except towards the piercing blue eyes. “What boy?” he managed to squeak out.

“Rudy,” Horatio growled, “Do not play with me.” The muscles in his arms and back refused to unknot, still tense from the shooting, of seeing Speed go down, seeing all the blood.

Koehler managed to look mystified. “What? Kidnap? I barely know Mrs. Williams!” he protested, a thin sheen of perspiration on his forehead. “I may be a thief, but that’s all.”

“Then who were the gunmen inside?” The redhead snapped.

“Security! But I hired them only to protect the stones.” Under the icy stare, Koehler was sweating bullets that had nothing to do with the ever-present Miami heat.

Horatio wanted more from the man, not the least of which was his own hands around the pencil-thin neck, but he restrained himself. “He goes nowhere,” he rumbled in Yelina’s direction as he straightened and stalked back to his crime scene.

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

“Mrs. Williams,” Horatio said with some surprise as he stepped out of the elevator at the crime lab.

Beside him, the little boy whose hand he’d been holding let him go. “Mommy!” he squealed, rushing toward her. She closed her eyes tightly as she scooped Joey up, babbling with relief at holding her boy again. Horatio ducked his head, allowing them their moment.

Horatio desperately wanted to leave, felt a deep longing to be at the hospital at Speed’s side, but pragmatism had won. He knew he couldn’t do anything to help his lover at the moment, and this little boy had needed him desperately. And so Horatio had stayed, locking his emotions somewhere deep inside him, everything except the cold rage that came from working a kidnapping case.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Williams whispered through her joyous tears, snapping the redhead out of his thoughts. “Never occurred to me that Pete was involved. That he would hurt a child.” She laid a protective hand over her child’s head.

“Well, Mrs. Williams, jealousy is a powerful motivator. And Pete is going away for a very long time. So you guys are going to be safe now.” Horatio kept his quiet professionalism, trying to ignore the jumpiness that had welled up upon the reappearance of Joey’s mother.

“I-I heard about your CSI. I’m sorry… really.” Her eyes offered compassion, and he accepted it. She hadn’t really meant to hurt anyone, after all. But her best-laid plans, like so many others, had gone south in the worst way possible.

“Yeah. Thank you. He’ll live, by the way. I don’t know about his arm, but he’ll live.” Horatio released a heavy sigh, letting a smile slip onto his face. “You take care, partner,” he told the boy, who smiled at him.

“Thank you,” the boy’s mother said again as she set him down. Horatio watched them hold hands on the way to the elevator.

He felt the release in his chest that came from solving a case, and from reuniting a family. He basked in it for a moment before more pressing matters garnered his attention. He checked his watch, decided that Speed should be out of surgery by now. Flicking the barest of glances at the receptionist, Horatio punched a button and waited for the elevator.

Mercifully he didn’t have to share it with anybody else, leaving the distracted redhead alone with his thoughts. He’d almost lost Speed today, that was indisputable fact. He remembered all the thoughts that flashed through his head when he’d seen Speed fall. He could still taste the tang of blood and adrenaline, of sheer fear at losing the younger man.

Twice now, he’d seen Speed fall. Twice now, he’d nearly lost him. Horatio knew, finally admitted to himself, that to lose this young man would be a harsher blow than just losing a colleague and dear friend. To live without Speed would be to live without a part of himself. “I can’t do this again,” he murmured to the quiet little cube, just before the doors dinged open.

He squared his shoulders as he stepped out into the Miami sun, heading for his Hummer, to the hospital. He couldn’t handle seeing Speed fall again, and he made a mental promise to himself that he never would.

Never again.


He found Speed’s room with little trouble. Aside from the dark-haired man on the bed, sleeping the drugged sleep of the wounded, the room’s only other occupant was Alexx, sitting in a chair to Speed’s left. Horatio stared at them a moment, noticing how pale his lover’s face looked, eyes flicking over the IV tubes, the faintly beeping monitors, and to the huge steel contraption that kept Speed’s upper right side completely immobile. It looked rather uncomfortable, Horatio decided.

Alexx noticed him. “Hey,” she whispered quietly. “Surgery went fairly well, but the bullet landed squarely in the ball-and-socket joint. Well, not a joint anymore. It’s fragments now.” Sad eyes traveled from Horatio to Speedle, and back. “Calleigh already has what’s left of the slug. It’s not going to do us much good, though. It’s almost as bad of shape as Timmy’s shoulder.” She leaned back in the chair, stretching. “Doctors say there’s a very slim chance of his shoulder ever knitting back together properly. He needs to have the joint replaced.”

Horatio sighed morosely at the information. “But he’ll live.”

Alexx nodded. “He’ll live.”

Horatio leaned in the doorframe, letting his body sag against the cold and impersonal steel. “Alexx,” he began softly, “why don’t you go home, get some rest. I’ll stay with him.”

“You don’t have to, Horatio. It’s not a vigil,” she said with her usual quiet compassion, sensing that something was up but deciding to let it be.

“I know, but all the same… I just want to sit with him a while.” Horatio let a hint of his internal conflict slip out, and after a moment Alexx nodded. She vacated her chair, giving a last look at the sleeper before heading out into the hall.

Horatio stood there a moment, watching his subordinate sleep. His friend. His lover. “Speed…” he whispered needlessly into the silence. He sank into the chair, suddenly weary. He reached for the limp left hand that lay on the bedspread, careful of the IV sticking out of the wrist, and clutched that hand, threading their fingers and sandwiching the cold, clammy hand between his own. Trying through sheer willpower to make that hand warm, make it move, make Speed be okay.

Horatio let out a shuddering sigh, lifting the hand to press it against his own forehead. “I’m right here, partner. I’m not going anywhere.”

I've seen the lights go out on Broadway
I saw the ruins at my feet
You know we almost didn't notice it
We'd seen it all the time on Forty-Second Street

They burned the churches down in Harlem
Like in that Spanish civil war
The flames were everywhere
But no one really cared
It always burned up there before

Billy Joel – "Miami 2017 (Seen The Lights Go Out On Broadway)"

“Hey, Speed,” Horatio soothed as the brown eyes cracked open. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“H?” Tim’s voice was understandably groggy. “What… the hell happened?” He stretched his good arm, wincing at a sudden shot of pain down one side. “What happened to my arm?”

“Timmy, baby,” Alexx soothed from the other side of the bed. “Don’t you remember?”

Tim’s thick brows furrowed in confusion as he looked around the room. He was in a hospital room, wearing the cheap paper-thin gown and laying on the bed. There was an IV in his left wrist, and his right arm… his eyes widened as he saw that nearly the entire right side of his torso was encased in a huge metal… thing, bolted to the wall.

Horatio and Calleigh were sitting to Speed’s left, and Alexx perched carefully on the end of the bed on Speed’s right. Eric leaned on the air conditioning unit next to the window. “Timmy?” Alexx’s voice came again.

“I… I got shot, didn’t I?”

Horatio nodded sadly. “Bullet took out your shoulder. But,” and here his voice cracked slightly. “You saved my life, Speed.”

Tim processed that for a minute, his eyes suddenly going wide. “The Williams kid!”

“Easy, easy,” Horatio soothed. “We got him, he’s safe.”

“Thank God,” Speed sighed, settling back into the pillows behind him. He took a breath, eyes going from Horatio to Calleigh. “I guess you guys know about my gun, don’t you? I’ve got some explaining to do.”

“You don’t need to explain anything right now,” Horatio said firmly, ignoring the looks of confusion on Alexx and Eric’s faces. “You just need to concentrate on getting that arm up and running again.”

“But, my gun—“

“Is in my custody,” Calleigh cut him off. “Stop worrying about it, and I’ll forgive you for stealing my Crimelite this morning.”

“I thought you already forgave him for it,” Eric protested, a little irritated to be left out of the loop. Calleigh simply turned to give him a Look, and he subsided.

“Honey, if you ever get shot like this, I’d forgive you twice, too.” Alexx said simply. “I’m glad you decided to stick around, Timmy.”

“So am I,” Horatio agreed, giving Speed a special look. He’d been awake for hours, thinking and keeping watch, and he’d come to a hard decision. “So what are you going to do when they let you out of the hospital?”

“I don’t know.” Speed sighed. “It’s gonna be kinda hard to do anything with just my left hand.”

“You could hire a live-in nurse,” Alexx suggested, “or one of us could come to stay with you when we’re not on duty.”

“I don’t need that much help,” Tim protested.

“I beg to differ,” Horatio countered. “You’re not going to be coming back to work for a long time, and like you said, it’s going to be difficult to take care of yourself with just one hand.” Tim looked away, and Horatio took a deep breath. “Speed? Move in with me.”

Tim’s head whipped around. “What?” The shock on his face mirrored that of everyone else.

“I said move in with me, Speed. I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on you, H.”

“I can afford it.” Horatio stared at his secret lover, giving a quick look of affection and reassurance.

“But… you’re a workaholic. I’d barely even see you.” Speed’s rich brown eyes, locked onto Horatio’s blue ones, failed to notice the glances exchanged between the other CSIs.

“But you would see me. And who says we can’t ask you to consult on a case?”

“Says IAB,” a new voice announced firmly, and the group turned as a whole to see Rick Stetler in the doorway. “Tim Speedle, you’re being asked to surrender your badge.”

Mouths dropped.

Stetler’s gaze shifted. “CSI Duquesne, what the hell is this? ‘Weapon Malfunction?’ That’s twice now that Speedle’s gun hasn’t fired a single shot whenever he’s drawn it. Different guns, same problem. Either you tell me what’s going on or I’ll—“

“Or you’ll what, Rick?” Horatio rumbled, and Speed couldn’t suppress a shiver. To call H’s voice cold was to call a mountain a pebble.

Rick swallowed, but stood his ground. “Or I’ll find a different firearms examiner to test the weapon. And when they found out what the ‘malfunction’ was, then everybody’s going to be taking a good hard look at Ms. Duquesne’s ability to—“

“I never cleaned it.”

Stetler cut off in mid-sentence as the group swiveled back to the figure on the bed.

“I never cleaned it. I hate guns.” Tim took a deep breath, wincing as it shifted his shoulder. “If I make a formal statement saying that, will you leave Calleigh’s report alone?”

Stetler looked at the forlorn man on the bed, and the rest of the team arrayed around him, and another peg fell into place. “I will, if you’ll sign that statement—and if you’ll turn in your badge permanently.”

“You can’t do that,” Eric started, but Tim raised his good hand to cut him off.

“Eric, it’s okay. I want to.” Everyone was staring at him open-mouthed, so he continued. “The lab means a lot to you guys, but it’s just a paycheck to me. Besides, it’s not like I can process evidence with my dominant hand out of commission.”

Horatio opened his mouth, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “You sure about this, Speed?”

Speed gave a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Stetler furrowed his brow. He’d expected more of a fight than this. He’d wanted to ding Calleigh, if only as a smug little message to Horatio that not everybody was perfect, but to see Speedle just give up like that only irritated him. “You’re not just gone, Speedle,” he said crisply. “As soon as you’re out of that bed, you’re going to be reviewing all your old cases from the last six months.” He hunched his shoulders, glaring at the room. “You people covered for him on this, who knows what else you—“

“Rick?” Horatio’s growl interrupted him. “Do not go there.”

The IAB man gave a swagger, full of bravado as he stepped into the room. “He’s a big boy, Horatio. He can clean up his own messes… or at least he could, before he almost got himself killed.”

Horatio twitched. “Leave him alone, Rick. You don’t want to mess with him right now.”

“Or what? You’ll call his boyfriend on me?” It had been a random slur pulled out of thin air, and Stetler had no idea how deep a nerve he’d just struck. It didn’t take him long to figure out as Horatio’s hand snapped out, grabbing Stetler by the collar and bodily hauling him out of the room.

It was instantly quiet, and Tim stared at the suddenly empty doorway. “You don’t wanna mess with my boyfriend,” he mumbled under his breath. He hadn’t realized he’d said it aloud until he noticed Eric flinch out of the corner of his eye.

“You mean your girlfriend, right?” Eric grinned.

Oh, why the hell not? “No, I mean my boyfriend,” Speed corrected him calmly.

Silence.
Complete, utter silence.

“You’re gay?” the Cuban finally whispered. Eric’s face had changed, the complete opposite of the grin of mere seconds ago. His eyes were filled with anger and disgust, and what hit Tim the hardest was that those eyes were aimed at him.

Tim was suddenly glad that Horatio had talked him out of trying to get Delko to have a one-night stand with him. While Horatio may not follow the Catholic religion to the letter, Eric did, and sodomy was considered a mortal sin.

”How could you?” Eric’s voice broke through his thoughts, the tone sounding as though Tim had given him a deep and personal insult.

“Because it’s just how I am. Always have been.” Suddenly Tim was angry. He’d just been fired—hell, he’d been shot at—and now he didn’t even have a good hand anymore, and Delko was grievously wounded because his best friend didn’t like girls? “I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it sooner, since I never called back any of those girls you tried to set me up with.”

“That was just a front, then.”

“Yeah, well, I tried, okay? Didn’t want to hurt them, and I didn’t want to hurt my best friend.”

“BEST FRIEND?!” Eric jumped to his feet as though he’d just been told that Speed had a rare, incurable, and highly contagious disease. “How can you be my best friend? You’re gay!”

“Eric, don’t do this,” Calleigh started, but Eric cut her off.

“No! It’s wrong, and it’s disgusting!” The tall Cuban stared at his ex-friend like an insect on a microscope slide. “You know, I’m glad they’re firing your ass. Your big, loose, sodomized ass.”

“ERIC!” Alexx’s outburst cut him short. “Would you leave Timmy alone? The poor boy’s been shot, for God’s sake!”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll leave him alone. Never have to worry about me bugging him ever again.” The smoldering eyes burned into the wounded man. Then he turned, leaving the room without another word.

Tim was starting to hate these sudden, awkward silences.

Calleigh let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. Speed blinked rapidly, staring at nothing in particular. Alexx was crying, tears of injustice. None said anything, and really, what was there to say?

The only response to Eric’s leaving was that suddenly Alexx and Calleigh were both trying to hold Speed’s left hand and squeeze it reassuringly, and that was a bit hard to do: he only had one left hand, after all.

The effect was comical, and abruptly Speed burst out laughing. “Wanna flip a coin?” he gasped, the laughter suddenly reminding him of the hole in his shoulder. Alexx took a quick glance at her baby’s monitors, decided that the display was working perfectly and the patient was still relatively healthy, and joined in the laughter. Calleigh wasn’t far behind.

Alexx gave a mock sigh. “No wonder Shelly never talked about you after that one date I set you up with.”

“And no wonder that girl at Miami Power hates you,” Calleigh dug in.

“Leave me alone, you harpies,” Tim moaned good-naturedly, freeing his hand so he could bury his face in it. The women laughed. Eric’s words had hurt him more than he cared to admit, but at the same time there was a huge feeling of relief, knowing that Alexx and Calleigh didn’t care about his preferences.

“So are you really seeing anybody?” Calleigh couldn’t resist, planting her elbows on Tim’s bed and resting her chin on threaded fingers.

Tim sighed. “Yeah, I am, actually.”

Alexx’s brow furrowed. “Then why move in with Horatio? Why not move in with your boyfriend?”

Tim thought hard. He didn’t have to think long.

“He is moving in with his boyfriend,” came the voice from the doorway, and the two women whirled in shock. Horatio stood there, leaning against the doorframe, watching.

He was kind enough to give them time to process that statement as he looked Tim over. His secret would be safe with Alexx and Calleigh, and he was tired of hiding. In front of these two women, at least, he didn’t have to hide his steamy gazes like the one he was giving Tim now, and Tim swallowed nervously. The last time Horatio had looked at him like that, Speed had been fixing his Ducati in Horatio’s garage. H had put the door down, bent Speed over the bike, and fucked him until the younger man couldn’t feel his legs.

Well, if H wasn’t going to hide it, then Speed wasn’t either, and Speed wanted Horatio’s touch now more than ever. He held out his hand towards his lover, who stepped to the bed, grasping the hand and threading their fingers together.

Neither woman said anything for a long moment, until Calleigh quietly spoke up. “My lips are sealed.”

“Doctor-patient privilege,” Alexx seconded.

Horatio looked at them kindly. “Thank you.”

Speed echoed him, adding, “I’d hate for Eric to hate you, too, H.”

Horatio sighed heavily, turning to sit on the bed. “I heard the whole thing. As much as I want to pursue this and set him straight, pardon the pun, you’re right. Best to just leave him alone, give him some space.”

“He’s not going to let this go, Horatio,” Alexx said mournfully. “And he’s a bright boy. He may put two and two together, and then you’re in trouble.”

Unexpectedly Tim snickered, and Horatio and Alexx looked at him like he’d sprouted wings. Tim wasn’t looking at them, though; he was smiling at Calleigh, who was smiling right back. “Calleigh, the bright side, please?”

“My pleasure,” she drawled, and turned to the other two. “Tim doesn’t work for you anymore, Horatio, remember? That means that it’s no longer a problem for you two to be seeing each other.”

Horatio snorted and shook his head. “As much as that thought brightens me, Calleigh, you should know that we’ve been seeing each other for a while… and gays are not widely accepted, even in Miami. Especially those with badges.”

Alexx couldn’t help herself. “So, Horatio,” she said carefully, “are you… oh, I hate that word, but are you gay too?”

Horatio gave a quick bark of laughter, easing her nerves. “No, I walk on both sides of the street.” He flipped her a lewd little smile, and she cackled and tossed a light punch to his shoulder.

“So in other words, he’s a horndog,” Tim chipped in, and Horatio whirled to pinch the man’s good arm, and he yelped.

“I like people. Those people just happen to be one gender or another.”

“Interesting way to put it,” Calleigh remarked with her usual perky smile. “Now, I want details.” The two men froze, blinked, stuck in the classic deer-in-the-headlights look. “Not like that,” she amended quickly. “How long have you two been seeing each other?”

The redhead glanced at Speed before answering. “Roughly seven months,” he admitted, and the women blinked.

“And you hid it for this long?” Alexx couldn’t believe it. “You two are good.”

Tim freed his hand so he could scratch his neck. “You… really don’t care? That me and H are…”

Calleigh waved it off. “A little surprised, maybe, but hey. I haven’t seen any problems with the way you’ve handled yourselves at work, so I really don’t see the harm in it.”

“Even though it violates protocol?” Horatio couldn’t stop himself.

Calleigh’s blonde head tilted, considering the question. “The way I see it, most rules are there for a reason, but there’s always a couple that can stand to be a bit more flexible.”

Alexx was quiet, thinking, before reaching out a finger to tap Horatio on the knee. She snickered as she said, “And Timmy told me he was going to your house because he was teaching you how to cook.”

Horatio turned to his lover, whose eyes were suddenly engrossed in his IV. “I thought you liked my steak.” He made his voice quiver with mock hurt, and Tim looked up at him.

“I like your steak,” he stated with his usual calm sincerity. “I just don’t like how it goes ‘moo’ every time I cut into it.” Alexx threw back her head and laughed.

A shadow fell across the doorway. “Good to see you’ve still got your sense of humor,” drawled a familiar gruff voice. Detective Frank Tripp lumbered into the room, tapping Speed’s foot with his hand and failing to notice how close Horatio was sitting to the patient. “How you feeling, slugger?”

“Like I just got shot,” Speed replied honestly, and Tripp snorted.

“Just saw the doc in the hallway,” the bulldog detective informed them, and suddenly he had their attention. “He says you can go home in about two weeks. Shoulder’s staying in a cast for at least three months, though.”

Tim looked glum at that.

“Frank,” Horatio spoke up. “I was wondering if you would help me with something.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

Horatio thought carefully before answering. “I need you to do Speed a favor.”

I've seen the lights go out on Broadway
I saw the mighty skyline fall
The boats were waiting at the battery
The union went on strike
They never sailed at all

They sent a carrier out from Norfolk
And picked the Yankees up for free
They said that Queens could stay
And blew the Bronx away
And sank Manhattan out at sea

Billy Joel – "Miami 2017 (Seen The Lights Go Out On Broadway)"

TWO WEEKS LATER

“There. All done.” Horatio stood with his hands on his hips, surveying his living room. Stacked neatly in what had previously been a rather empty corner was a cluster of cardboard boxes, large Rubbermaid storage containers, and a few suitcases. Every bit of it was Tim’s, from his now-empty apartment. All of Tim’s large furniture was out in Horatio’s garage, for now. Noticing some movement out the window, he amended, “Hold that thought.”

“Here’s the last one,” Frank Tripp called as he hauled in the last cardboard box, carefully tossing it with the rest. It was just books, anyway, and he ignored the collective twitch from the surrounding CSIs. “Now we’re done.” He stood back, unconsciously copying Horatio with his hands on his hips, no tie, sleeves rolled up and jacket nowhere to be found.

“Great! Let’s eat!” Calleigh stepped into the living room from the kitchen, carrying a variety tray like the kind you get from large sandwich shops. Behind her, a sullen Eric was packing a similar platter. He hadn’t wanted to come, but his mother had made him. He couldn’t bear to tell her why he suddenly had no best friend any more. Couldn’t stomach the thought of telling her that he’d brought a homosexual into her house. Horatio was Catholic, yet he seemed to have no problem with it, and that bothered Eric.

“Who wants what to drink?” Alexx called from the kitchen. “Timmy, you move from that chair again and I’m tying you to it!”

Tim leaned back in his chair and scowled. He’d wanted to help—it was his stuff, after all—but it had taken a long talk from Horatio just for Alexx to let Tim direct the packing of the boxes. Tim’s right shoulder was encased with a contraption of steel and plastic that looked like an armored shoulder pad from one of those Japanese cartoons. His forearm was in a sling across his midsection, of course, but the brace actually extended up the side of his neck and down to almost his elbow, holding his upper arm completely rigid. It had to be, if there was the slightest chance of his joint healing properly.

His left hand still worked fine, but that didn’t make nearly as much difference as Tim would’ve liked: he was right-handed. Even if the surgery was a success, it would take a miracle to get 80% efficiency back in his arm, and in the meantime he’d have to learn how to do things with his left hand. The first time he’d been allowed to eat with a fork after the surgery, the clumsiness and frustration had nearly brought him to tears.

Something cold and wet smacked into his cheek, and he jumped, realizing it was Horatio with a soda—tab popped open, of course, which irritated him more than gratified him. He wasn’t completely helpless, but he said “Thanks” anyway.

“That’s something I’m going to have to try sometime,” H said in a low murmur, using the soda as an excuse to lean close to the younger man.

“What’s that?” Speed asked casually, eyes darkening with the redhead’s proximity.

“Tying you to the chair.”

Speed blinked, mouth half-open, as Horatio chuckled and stepped to the side, allowing the food to travel past him.

“Here ya go, Speed!” Calleigh called cheerfully, the overlarge platter balanced expertly on one hand like an upscale waitress. “Whatcha want on your sandwich?”

Tim pointed at various things, allowing Calleigh to spread the condiments on the bread. That was something else he’d need to practice, but he wasn’t up to making a fool of himself right now. “Thanks, Calleigh,” he said quietly.

“For what?”

Tim gave a rueful grin. “Treating me like I’m not completely helpless.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Calleigh waved it off. As if to prove it, she handed him a small bag of potato chips. Unopened. The ‘invalid’ was up to the challenge, though, grabbing one corner and lifting the bag to his teeth.

“Timmy!” Alexx’s stern warning knifed through the little gathering, and all eyes were suddenly on him.

“Alexx, it’s either my bad arm or my teeth. Pick which one I’m gonna ruin,” Tim grumbled loud enough for her to hear.

“I’d prefer for you to not ruin the upholstery,” Horatio said casually, and chuckles rose from the group as they went back to the eating and gabbing. He ducked down again, to whisper in Tim’s ear. “Which bedroom do you want? I know you’ll be sleeping with me, but I also know that they’ll expect to help you take all your clothes out.”

Tim favored him with a dry look, whispering back. “If I’ll be sleeping with you, then why does it matter?”

“Because Eric volunteered to help you unpack the things for your room.” Tim’s good humor faded, and Horatio noticed. “Want me to be in there to help?”

Tim shook his head. “Nah, I think I can handle it.”

“Well, you’d better not handle much of anything. Alexx will be keeping an eye on you, you know,” Horatio couldn’t resist digging in, and Tim sighed.

“I think she’s a great person, H, and I’m glad she’s taken such a shine to me, but the damn woman is determined to put me in a wheelchair. My arm’s busted, but I can still walk!” He fumed around his large bite of sandwich.

“You know, most people would enjoy just sitting there and having someone else do all the work for them,” Horatio remarked, and Speed decided that he’d like to be incredibly immature for a moment and stick his tongue out at the redhead, and did.

Everyone finished their food, and people began going for boxes, asking Tim and Horatio where to put this one or that one. Frank figured he’d be safe setting up the bookshelves, and Calleigh busied herself with hooking up Speed’s laptop and setting it on the desk next to Horatio’s. When that was done, she found Tim’s CDs and began sorting them neatly by alphabetical order next to Horatio’s rather under-used entertainment center. Alexx manned the kitchen, sorting Tim’s pots and pans and assorted utensils. Horatio and Eric made several trips to the garage, bringing up some furniture.

Things were just winding down when beepers went off. Everyone except Tim glanced at their belts, looked at each other, and sighed. “Calleigh, you mind running with this one?” Horatio asked ruefully.

She beamed at him. “No problem, I know you need to get Tim all settled in.”

Horatio nodded his thanks before raising his voice. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’d like to thank you for your help in getting Speedle moved in. Duty calls, however. I’m going to sit this one out, get some more unpacking done.”

“Yeah, thanks everybody,” Speed spoke up, giving a little wave. Various replies of “you’re welcome” and “no problem” and “get well soon” bounced back to him, and the house began to empty again.

Horatio stood at the door, watching them leave, Alexx taking a few extra seconds to impart some stern warnings to her patient before joining the little entourage. When they were gone, Horatio closed the door, heading back into the living room and noticing that Speed was blushing furiously. “What’d she say?” the redhead inquired casually.

Tim locked his eyes fixedly on the floor. “She said that she didn’t care how often we did it, but that we’re to have no rough sex until my follow-up. And if anything you do to me aggravates my shoulder in any way, she’s gonna break yours.”

Horatio blinked, glancing out the window as the last of the cars pulled away. Then he put his hands on his hips and gave a short bark of laughter. “I hate to disappoint you, Speed, but that’s very good advice. Your shoulder is fine powder as it is.”

Tim’s brown eyes were wide with disbelief. “You mean you’re really going to leave me high and dry?”

Horatio turned to face the younger man fully, hands moving to part the buttons on the front of his shirt. “Of course not. I’m simply going to take my own sweet time before I make you scream.”

Speed swallowed hard, pupils dilating at the look Horatio was sending his way as the shirt was finally unbuttoned. The redhead shrugged it off, snatching it before it hit the floor and tossing it in the general direction of the couch, smoldering blue eyes never leaving Speed’s. He was forced to break the gaze as he yanked his undershirt over his head, sending it after his dress shirt and seeing Tim sitting there, staring at him with such a look of lust that Horatio was amazed that the room wasn’t igniting.

“H?” Speed’s voice was a faint whisper, throat clogged with arousal.

“Yes?” The redhead stalked closer.

“Can you help me with my shirt?” Tim tugged at the collar of his Lynard Skynard shirt, which Horatio had brought fresh from his laundry just for the occasion of bringing the brunette home.

Horatio gave a dark chuckle as he closed the distance to his lover’s side, capturing the stubbled mouth in a soul-searing kiss. “I can do more than that,” he rumbled as they broke apart, lips traveling across the sandpaper jawline and down the left side of Speed’s neck, finding a tasty spot at the juncture of neck and shoulder, and Tim squeaked.

“H,” he whined, breath hitching as Horatio sucked gently on the skin, marking him.

“Hmm?”

“Can we go to bed now?” He heard the frustration and arousal in Speed’s voice, and the unfortunate undercurrent of exhaustion. For the past two weeks, he’d been laying in a hospital bed, after all.

Horatio decided that the skin was sufficiently bruised and pulled back to admire his handiwork. Satisfied, he knelt and took Speed’s good hand in his own, gazes meeting once again. “Speed, we can do whatever you want. You’re home now.”

Speed swallowed, eyes suddenly glittering. “Take me to bed, H. Please.”

Horatio half-stood so he could plant a soft kiss on his younger lover. “Of course.”

You know those lights were bright on Broadway
That was so many years ago
Before we all lived here in Florida
Before the Mafia took over Mexico

There are not many who remember
They say a handful still survive
To tell the world about
The way the lights went out
And keep the memory alive

Billy Joel – "Miami 2017 (Seen The Lights Go Out On Broadway)"

It was an exercise in emotionless faces as Horatio was given a crash course on how to get Tim’s arm in and out of a shirt. Specifically, Tim sat on the edge of the bed, and then Horatio had to find all the snaps and straps to remove the brace, then very carefully remove the sling, and VERY carefully straighten the arm but move the shoulder as little as possible while Tim shrugged out of the shirt as best he could. He didn’t show it, but Horatio saw it anyway, the pain shooting through his lover’s body, the wrong kind of tears that stung the brown eyes.

“That settles it,” the redhead growled as Tim’s upper half was completely bare for the first time in two weeks. “You are not wearing a shirt until the doctor says that brace can come off. I don’t care,” he held up a hand to stop Speed’s protests. “I don’t want you to have to go through that and to aggravate your injury two or three times a day.”

Tim was silent as Horatio carefully reattached the medical restraints.

“You okay, Speed?” The redhead asked, concerned.

Speed looked up at him. “That means that you get a wide-open shot at my nipples every time you see me.”

Horatio smiled. “Everybody wins. And now, you,” and he laid a gentle hand on the younger man’s good shoulder, standing close until he was nearly between his lover’s legs, “are going to lay down.”

Tim’s eyes got big and pouty. “But, H—“

“No buts,” Horatio said firmly, hand urging Tim to scoot backward and finally lean back against the pillows that Horatio had piled against the headboard beforehand. “I told you, everybody wins.” With that, he knelt between Speed’s denim-clad legs and brought his lips back to their former conquest on the unshaven neck, darkening the skin some more.

Tim squirmed carefully under the touch, his good hand lifting to run fingers through the red hair. “God, H, I missed you,” he sighed. Horatio didn’t respond, as he was too busy widening his target, the entire dip between Speed’s left shoulder and that side of his neck slowly becoming one big love mark. Horatio smiled into the skin as a low moan vibrated through the skin against his lips as he lifted one hand to Speed’s chest, finding and tweaking a nipple.

After a while, Speed was shifting and panting with increasing urgency. “H, you trying to kill me?” he hissed, his hand sliding up and down the pale back in mindless circles.

Horatio broke contact, looking up, afraid he’d some how hurt his lover. Instead, Speed’s hand moved down to between his own legs, fumbling with his belt. “I haven’t gotten off since before I got shot,” Tim pouted. As if to prove it, he helped Horatio fiddle with his pants until they and his boxers were low enough that Horatio could see the frustration physically manifesting itself beneath the fine skin of the younger man’s scrotum.

“I had one myself, just before I left to pick you up from the hospital.” Horatio’s voice was low and throaty, the tone that just made Speed’s toes curl. “Just thinking about you living here, sleeping in my bed… waking up to do this.” He leaned down, flicking his tongue out to lick Speed’s straining cockhead, and Speed gasped.

“H, please,” the dark-haired man whined. “Ohhhhh, please…”

“My pleasure,” Horatio growled with another lick. “I’m going to suck. You. Dry.” With that, he plunged down, and Speed nearly squealed, hips bucking. Horatio wanted desperately to make the younger man come, to relieve his suffering; at the same time, he wanted it to last forever, their first lovemaking with Speed officially living here. Then he thought, why not both? As frustrated as Tim was, he wouldn’t last long under Horatio’s expert touch.

And he was right; within the span of a few minutes, Speed grabbed Horatio’s shoulder hard as he gave a choked cry, body stiffening and hips bucking deep into Horatio’s mouth as he came hard, Horatio swallowing every drop. When Tim finally sagged back into the pillows, Horatio lifted his head and licked his lips.

“Don’t you dare go to sleep,” Horatio growled, knowing his lover’s tendency to do just that after coming. Tim only gave a tired grin, his arm stretching out and inviting the redhead up for a snuggle. Horatio complied, stretching himself out on Tim’s left side and draping an arm across the somewhat hairy belly, Tim’s arm wrapping around his shoulders. “I’ve missed you so much, Speed,” Horatio whispered softly.

“Same here,” Speed murmured back, putting a kiss to the red hair that was laying on the good half of his chest.

Horatio basked in the embrace, finding comfort in the heart beating steadily underneath his ear. Eventually his proximity to his lover became too much, and he couldn’t resist lifting his head to move it a few inches, giving the nearby nipple a lick, and Tim gave a sleepy moan. “Think you could go for another one?” Horatio inquired as he teased the bud with his lips, and Tim shifted, his hand finding Horatio’s head.

“I could go for anything right about now,” Speed whispered, his hand toying with the soft copper locks.

“Good,” Horatio muttered, teasing the nub with his teeth, and Tim jumped a little, his teeth chattering. It was one of Speed’s little quirks, that every time he felt teeth or fingernails on his nipples, his teeth chattered. Tim was slightly embarrassed by it, but Horatio loved the little oddity, and he carefully gnawed on the tiny little bundle of nerves, his lover’s teeth clacking.

“H,” Tim finally managed to stutter when the redhead let up. “Do you mind?”

“Mind what?” Horatio asked innocently. He lifted his head to stare straight at his lover, extending his tongue to gently tease the little pebble, and Speed groaned at the image.

“I need you,” the dark-haired man whimpered. “Hard.”

“Don’t forget about what Alexx said,” Horatio reminded him as he gave a reproachful nip, sending Tim’s jaw rattling again.

“Dammit, H, would you just fuck me already?”

Horatio smiled broadly into his little toy. “I thought you’d never ask,” he rumbled as his hand slid down Tim’s belly, wrapping around the already stiffening cock he found there. “My my, you are desperate, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you,” Speed growled half-heartedly, rocking his hips into Horatio’s hand.

“Maybe tomorrow night,” Horatio shot back, attacking the nipple again, and Speed hissed. It wasn’t often that Speed topped him, but every now and then Horatio was glad to let someone else be in control… and so far, Speed was the first man in a very long time that Horatio trusted enough to do that.

The redhead finally released Speed’s chest, lips teasing and licking and sucking a hot trail down the dark curls on the younger man’s belly until he found the thick nest of hair, and below it, Tim’s throbbing member. Horatio pumped it a few times with his hand as he kissed his way around it, finding Tim’s balls and sucking first one, then the other, into his mouth. Tim made a low humming noise as his hand found Horatio’s hair again, hips rocking absently as Horatio finally released the warm globes and licked a broad streak up the pulsing length before wrapping his lips around it.

“Jesus, H, that feels great,” Tim panted, face to the ceiling as Horatio teased, licked, and sucked his cock. “H, please… please fuck me.”

Horatio rose, abandoning his plaything. “Lay on your left side,” he ordered calmly, and Tim whined from the loss but obeyed nonetheless. The redhead took the time to finally remove his own pants and boxers, rummaging around in the nightstand for a condom and some lube. Carefully he moved over his prostrate lover, settling himself behind him and pressing his lightly haired chest into the warm back. He had to lean his hips back in order to tease Tim’s entrance with his finger, and Tim moaned.

“God, H, it’s been way too long,” Tim sighed as Horatio uncapped the lube and slicked up his hand, his finger finding the tight ring of muscle again. He jumped and moaned as the digit invaded him, twisting and squirming before locating the prostate, and Speed gave a howl as loud as he normally did when he came. “Way too fucking long,” he panted.

“No argument here,” Horatio agreed, wishing that the brace wasn’t there so he could chew on his lover’s neck. He settled for stretching his neck out to nibble on Speed’s sensitive ears as he slipped a second finger in, stretching and scissoring to pull open the muscle, preparing him. “God, Speed… you’re so tight,” the redhead breathed into dark-haired man’s ear, gnawing carefully on the cartilage shell as Tim twitched his hips, pushing back against Horatio’s hand, welcoming him, and Horatio slipped in a third finger.

“H?”

“Hmm?” Horatio kept nibbling, kept playing with Speed’s prostate, reveling in the sounds he hadn’t heard for so long.

Speed jerked his head carefully away from Horatio’s evil mouth. “Dammit, Horatio Caine, I want you in my ass right the fuck now!”

“Sir, yes sir,” Horatio growled, pulling his fingers out and grabbing the condom and lube. Tim whimpered at the loss, going quiet when he felt the tip of Horatio’s cock against his entrance. “Speed?” he whispered softly, controlling himself.

“Y-yeah?” Tim was actually trembling with anticipation.

Horatio rose up and over just enough to lay a kiss on his lover’s lips, savoring the flavor before settling back down, slowly pushing himself through that tight ring of muscle. “Welcome home, Speed,” he hissed as he slid inside.

Speed pressed his back against his lover’s sparsely haired chest, head lolling and eyes rolling back as Horatio entered him. “Good to be—oh, God, H! Good to be home,” he moaned, raising his leg slightly for a better angle. “More, H. Gimme more.”

“Jesus, Speed, you’re… you’re tight, so fucking tight,” Horatio gasped, grasping the leg and rocking his hips.

“Two weeks of celibacy will do that to you,” Speed replied dryly, arching his back for a slightly better angle, and Horatio growled as he slid all the way to the hilt.

Horatio tried to set a slow pace, but Speed was right: two weeks was a long time, and the redhead found that he couldn’t slow down. Instead he sped up, hips bucking faster and faster, and soon Tim was moaning with every thrust. “H, please,” the dark-haired man whined as Horatio clutched his lover’s hip, pulling them together and pushing them apart as the sweating flesh pounded together.

Horatio moved, scooting his lower half just a bit closer to his lover, hips slamming into that tight heat as the redhead reached around, wrapping a hand around Speed’s weeping cock and dragging his thumb over the head, and Speed howled. Horatio slid his upper half away, ducking his head and finding the sensitive skin of Speed’s neck with his teeth, the part that wasn’t covered by the medical ‘armor,’ and he bit down with little force, and Tim slammed himself back into his lover’s pounding cock.

“Come for me, Speed,” Horatio snarled against Speed’s neck, and the dark-haired man stiffened, length pulsing in Horatio’s hand before shooting the thick white fluid onto the bed. Horatio growled into his prize, his lover’s muscle contractions gripping him so painfully tight, stroking him, milking him, and he gave a wordless howl through his teeth as he pounded himself into the incredible dark heat one last time, his own cock sputtering with release.

They lay there for a long time, panting, Horatio still buried to the hilt. Finally Horatio started to shrink and Speed started to itch, so reluctantly the redhead pulled out, and Speed moaned like he was losing a part of himself. Horatio leaned over for another kiss, which Speed returned gladly, before the redhead rose and headed to the bathroom to clean up. “You know, Speed,” he began casually, “now that you’re living here, maybe we can finally go clubbing again.” He found the little packet of baby wipes, snorting at the dust on them as he peeled off his condom and headed back to the bedroom.

Tim rolled over enough to take a wipe with a nod of thanks. “You mean, to that one place?” He lay mostly on his left shoulder, running the wipe along his privates.

“The ‘place’ is called Deviate, Speed, and why would you be nervous? I thought you and Pamela were friends.” Horatio started to wipe the cum off Speed’s belly, then stopped and bent down to lick it, making his lover moan again. “You and the Mistress are still friends, aren’t you?”

“Well,” Speed hissed as the tongue teased the curls on his stomach, “I kinda haven’t called her in two weeks.”

When Horatio got the stomach clean, he knelt down next to the bed and ran a wipe over it, scrubbing furiously at a few spots. “You’re excused. I called her a couple of days after the shooting, during one of the few times I came home. She wanted to come and see you but I told her it wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Why not? Because she’s a Dominatrix, I’m gay, and you and her are two of the best Doms in Miami?”

“Something like that.” Horatio tilted his head and sighed, looking at his lover. “I just didn’t want to raise any more questions. You’ve had enough thrown out into the open as it is.”

Tim accepted the logic of that. “Well, thank God I was laying on my back most of the time. Alexx saw those scars, she’d never leave me alone.”

“And what did the nurse say about them? During your sponge baths, I mean?” Horatio blinked innocently at the wounded man, who shuddered.

“Don’t remind me. Letting a woman that close to my junk is just… rrgh.” He shook his head as though to dispel the memory. “And I just flat-out told her, they’re scars from my boyfriend tying me up and thrashing me with a bullwhip, and she didn’t say a damn thing after that. And they’re bound by the doctor-patient confidentiality clause.”

Horatio’s finger guided Speed to roll a bit more onto his stomach but not completely, the redhead standing to peer at his lover’s back. “Not too much scarring there, Speed. Then again, you’re more for the straps than the whip.” He ran a light finger over a few of them before nudging Speed to roll back over.

“I miss it, H. I wanna go visit Pam again as soon as you’ll let me.”

“I know, I know,” Horatio soothed. “We’ll see what the doctor says and how you’re progressing, first.”

Tim grunted and laid his good arm over his stomach in a poor imitation of crossing his arms, face looking like a child who’d just been told to eat his peas before he could have dessert. Horatio couldn’t help a laugh at the sight, tossing the wipes in a small trash can beneath the nightstand and crawling onto the bed so he was straddling his younger lover. “You know, that face does nothing to change my mind.”

Speed gave him a silly grin. “I know. But it got you over here, didn’t it?”

Horatio gave a quick bark of laughter as he settled back to his spot on Tim’s good side, the dark-haired man draping his left arm over the redhead’s shoulders again. “Smartass,” Horatio muttered, giving the nearby nipple a quick toothing, and Tim’s jaw went clacking again.

“Better a smartass than a dumbass,” Speed countered, his hand tickling the finer hairs on the back of Horatio’s neck, and the older man squirmed.

“Truce?”

“Truce.”

They sealed the deal with a kiss, light and sweet, and Horatio stood to turn off all the lights. “Welcome home, Speed,” he murmured again once he’d settled back down.

Tim’s arm gripped him tightly. “Good night, H.”

“Thank you, New York City! Thank you. I wrote that song twenty-five years ago. I thought it was going to be a science-fiction song; I never thought it would really happen. But, unlike the end of that song, we ain’t going anywhere.”

Billy Joel – "Miami 2017 (Seen the Lights Go Out On Broadway)," Live from “The Concert for New York City”