More Than This

More Than This


It was a late night, the end of an assignment, the end of a cover. Suspect in custody, all's right with the world. Too late to get back to LA, though, so they'd been put up in a hotel, suspect safely locked at the local PD.

It had been a long day, and his ribs and various other bruises ached from the scuffle that ended it. He glanced at his partner, with the brooding dark eyes under low brows, who he hadn't seen much of during this operation, more's the pity. He was young, but good. Just experienced enough to get the job done right, and to follow Jack's lead without question.

"Hey, Almeida. I'm going to grab a drink at the bar. Can I buy you one?"

Brown eyes flicked over to him in surprise, and the man smiled. He wasn't one of Henderson's circle, and Jack wondered if the invitation to drink with a coworker seemed strange to him. "Sure. Going to put some things up in my room, I'll meet you down there in ten."

He had a shot of Jack Daniels and ordered two beers while he waited, sitting at the end of the bar. A couple of patrons were dining, but it was empty otherwise, which was rather how he liked it, and when he saw Tony appear in the doorway, he ordered another round of shots.

The dark haired man slipped onto the stool next to him with a little smile. "Thanks, Jack."

Jack grinned, and held up his shot glass for a toast. "To getting to go back home."

"I'll drink to that," Tony replied with a smile, and downed the alcohol.

They talked about the case, just a little, without breaking confidentiality. They talked about home, sport teams, cars, and stayed carefully clear of the subject of families. It wasn't ever easy, being a field agent, with long hours and weeks away from home, and Jack knew he wasn't the only one in the bureau who suffered from a difficult family life - or lack thereof.

The beer disappeared quickly, followed by several more rounds of JD, which they swapped off covering. After shooting back the fourth round, Tony set his shot glass down, contemplating it. "You know, I have a mickey of this stuff up in my room. Might be cheaper than keeping on down here."

Jack thought that was a very good idea for very different reasons than the cost of alcohol, and regarded Tony carefully. He couldn't detect any blatant ulterior motives, but then again, he hadn't known Tony enough to be familiar with his tells. "Sounds like a plan to me."

They went upstairs; lounged lazily on the king sized bed with their backs to the headboard, bottle between them, alternating swigs. The TV was playing some strange sci-fi thriller filled with moving buildings and pale bald men in leather coats, but he wasn't particularly paying attention to it. What he was paying attention to was the dark haired man beside him, and the lovely buzz of electricity he could feel slowly getting stronger in the air between them. Tony wasn't quite watching him either, but when he handed the bottle back, his fingers lingered on it, brushing against Jack's rather intentionally before releasing his hold in it.

Jack took another swig, more for balls than anything else. He hadn't exactly done this before, not with a man - usually the encounters came to him. And it wasn't at all like picking up a woman, where they either wanted you, or you moved on. It felt a bit more serious to try and pick up a man, especially since this one was a coworker who didn't play in their circle, and who was technically reporting to him in the hierarchy....

When he handed he bottle back, he leaned into Tony, laying half on his side, moving to murmur in his ear, low and a little husky. "I know you've been with men before, Tony." It was a mostly a bluff, but Jack felt reasonably safe playing it, at least with the few dark glances Tony had passed him since they started drinking.

The other man tensed a little, turning to look at him, dark eyes searching his face. Not judging, just testing, waiting for Jack's move. "Yeah?"

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah." He took the mostly empty bottle from him and moved just enough to set it aside on the bedside table, then leaned in and caught the other man's lips with his.

When Jack kissed Tony, he didn't know why he'd ever been worried about rejection. The younger man met his passion instantly and with more voracity than he would have expected, mouth crashing against his with a soft groan. His lips parted to taste him eagerly, tongue swiping against Jack's lips, then deeper as Jack yielded to him, fingers tangling in his hair to hold him to his kiss. Whiskey flavoured kisses, hot and needy, sucking at each other's lips and tongues.

The rush of Tony's mutual desire was more of a turn on than Jack had ever expected, and between that and the alcohol, he wasn't so much thinking as just reacting, shuddering at the force and hunger of his kisses, and he yanked Tony's shirt out of his pants and up over his head to touch him, filling his hands with warm skin and firm muscles, all the delicious sensations he always craved so badly and never had with a woman. He pulled Tony down half on top of him to tangle his legs with his, hips grinding up against his almost desperately, already achingly hard just from the passion of his kisses and touch.

Tony stripped him of his shirt, mouth dropping to his neck, sucking and nipping the skin with as much tenacity as he had Jack's lips. He cried out helplessly at the rush of oh-so-good pain as the man bit down at the crook of his neck, Jack's hips bucking up against his insistently, groaning as Tony angled his hips to grind more firmly against him, cock pressed hard to Jack's thigh through his slacks. Then Tony sealed his mouth over Jack's nipple, hand slipping between them to palm him through his slacks, making him gasp, making him groan and writhe under him. Jack reached down to fumble with the other man's belt, yanking it and his pants open without much difficulty, slipping his hand into the waistband of his boxers to curl around his cock, stroke him slow and firm.

"Fuck..." Tony's fingers were fumbling with Jack's pants without further encouragement, yanking them down enough to free him, teasing him, stroking him, making a very appreciative noise low in his throat as Jack rocked up into his touch. He dipped his head to nip at Jack's earlobe, pants of breath hot against his skin, voice husky. "How far do you want to take this, Jack?"

He wet his lips with a low groan just at the thought of it. "I want this - " his fingers tightened on Tony's cock. "- hard and deep inside me."

Jack heard the other man draw a sharp hiss, felt him shudder against him, voice still low. "Show me how you want it, then."

He kicked off the remainder of his clothing, body faintly trembling, nerves singing in anticipation, and moved to rest on his knees and forearms, ass in the air. It was what Christopher liked best, and as much as they don't always see eye to eye, Jack had to admit that it did feel the best, allowing for penetration that was hard and deep and intense, and it gave him some measure of control, letting him rock and grind back into it. He felt Tony run his hands hungrily down his back and over his ass, and tried not to shudder, tried to be patient and wait, regardless of how much he ached for it, how much his body was screaming for it.

He was hard enough, desperate enough to take it barebacked, but after a moment he felt two fingers on his ass, warm and slick - probably the hotel hand lotion - stroking him, carefully penetrating him, testing how much he could take. For Jack, it was torture, a tease of pressure and sensation that was only a shadow of what he really wanted, and he pressed back against him, trying to encourage him. "Fuck, come on... that's good enough...."

"Hold still," he heard Tony say a little sternly, and the fingers pressed deeper, crooking to brush against his prostate, making him buck and cry out helplessly. His fingers clenched at the motel sheets, body shuddering with anticipation and need.

"Dammit Tony - please," he managed, and finally the fingers pulled away, replaced with a slick, hard cock, rocking slow but insistently, hot and deep, and he bucked back against Tony's cock as much as he could, gasping for breath. "Oh fuck, yes!"

He heard a chuckle behind him, low and throaty, and Tony thrust harder, deeper into him, gasping a little himself, his hands gripping his hips tightly. They fell into rhythm, hard and fast without speaking, somehow rocking together perfectly, groans growing to soft, shuddering cries of pleasure. It was heady and felt somehow transcendent to Jack, to be so fucking hard, to be fucked so hard and deep and completely, and to do it for the sheer pleasure of it, not to gain anyone's approval, just to enjoy it. He'd played Christopher's games so long, bent to his will, but Tony was just - Tony - dark and lush and so damn sexy, pounding hard into his ass, driving him quickly close to climax.

He arched back against him as much as he could, sharp bursts of pleasure rushing through him with every thrust, crying out roughly as he felt Tony's hand slip down to stroke him in time with his thrusts. It was too much, too blissful, and he came, breath catching in his throat as pleasure cascaded through him, shocks of ecstasy that overwhelmed him, just as he felt the younger man rock deep into him, gasping out Jack's name as he came to orgasm, free hand digging into his hip almost painfully.

It took a few moments for Jack to catch his breath, pulse racing, nerves singing in the bliss of afterglow. He turned to face Tony as the other man pulled a way to stretch out beside him with a soft, appreciative sigh, meeting Jack's eyes with a warm smile. He returned the smile, wondering a little at the emotions the sight evoked in him... a kind of tenderness and joy that he hadn't felt in his marriage in a very long time, and he reached out to gently cup the side of his face.

Then he heard a low buzzing and groaned, pulling away and searching for his pants. By the time he got to his cell, the buzzing had stopped, and all that was registered was a missed call and a text from Henderson.

'Jack. Better not be dipping the pen in the company ink while you're stuck out there. Come home soon. Miss you.'

He stared at the text with a shudder, almost glaring at it. Did he know? How the fuck did he know? In any case, it was a very bad idea to get on Christopher Henderson's bad side, regardless of the circumstances.

He glanced back at the bed to find Tony watching him with a little smile, naked and sated, and the site of it made his heart ache strangely, more than he would have expected. But he knew it would be bad, very bad for Tony if Christopher ever thought this was more than just a meaningless fuck....

So, saying nothing, and not looking back, Jack grabbed his clothes, cleaned himself off in the bathroom, and left.

~~~~FIN~~~~