"Ellison! Sandburg! My office!" Those opera lessons had really paid off. Just remember to expand the diaphragm, inhale down into the belly, project and voila, the bellow that sent lowly filing clerks scurrying and detectives wondering who was going to have to face his wrath.
"Take a seat." Simon gestured to the two chairs. The two men looked at each other and chorused in perfect harmony (an exact major third if you really must know).
Images flashed through Simon's head of a sweaty, naked Blair with an equally sweaty, equally naked Jim, both doing horribly erotic things to each other. Sending a damper to Banks Jr. (*not* Darryl), Simon clamped down on his libido.
"You've got to move to a safe house for the next few days. Johnson escaped from jail and is headed this way."
"Johnson? Is he the guy who had that duck and. . ."Jim asked, wrinkling his manly brow in concentration.
"No, that was Jensen. Johnson, he's the guy who had that shoe fetish. Or was that Johnston?" Blair interrupted, scrunching up his cute little nose, trying to remember.
"Actually, Johnson is the brother of the guy you hit with the truck last year during that chase," Simon interjected.
"Oh yeah. I guess he'd be really mad at Jim huh?"
"Yes he is. Which is why you're being relocated to a safe house until he's caught. We'll have Rafe and Brown take watch detail."
And thus it came to pass that Jim and Blair found themselves in a one bedroom apartment that the department rented for such emergencies. The bed creaked and the sheets weren't silk, but Blair had brought a week supply of lube so it wasn't an entire disaster. They still came into the department during the day and did paperwork. And honoured the terms of their contract. In the interrogation room, the janitor's closet, the break room and, of course, in the bathroom.
"Jim did you ever notice how Rafe is kind of like the Energizer Bunny?" Blair asked after one particularly strenuous workout behind the lockers in the locker room.
"The Energizer Bunny, you know that big pink rabbit with the drum? Well, it just keeps going and going and going. Just like Rafe."
Rafe took his responsibility to his charges *very* seriously, so he decided that being as close to them as possible was the only way to discharge his duty. And if that meant getting a little something on the side, well, that was a sacrifice he would just have to make . . . all in the name of a good cause, of course. One shouldn't allow one's friends to flounder in financial difficulty when a mutually amenable agreement was possible.
It was the third night into the ordeal when Simon received word that Johnson had somehow (and for the sake of continuity we won't inquire) found out the location of the safe house. He called the apartment from his cellular as he sped toward the safe house.
*Ring* . . . *Ring* . . .
"<crash> " The sound of the phone hitting the floor sent Simon into a panic. Had Johnson already gotten to them?
"Hello? Jim? Blair? Rafe?"
"Jim? Is that you?"
"Are you all right?"
"ohhhh . . . arrggghh <pant> <pant>"
"Hang on Jim. I'll be right there! Help's on the way!" Simon ran a red light and drove up onto the sidewalk, plowing through a trash can and scattering shredded paper everywhere. He flicked on the wipers. Cars screeched to a halt and pedestrians scattered as Simon set out to break all of Jim's records for driving.
"Oh God. Rafe, do it again." Rafe complied, thrusting deep into the as yet unplumbed depths of the burly man on his hands and knees before him. Jim had written into the contract a "who tops whom" clause and he was numero uno. Until tonight. Brown had gone for pizza promising to be back 'later'. So the three men had retired to the bedroom, Rafe determined to milk every perk from the contract. Together he and Blair had taken it upon themselves to drive the Sentinel to the edge and Jim had succumbed, finally begging Rafe to "fuck me please!"
And who was Rafe to argue with such persuasive begging? So the three
of them were once again writhing together on the bed, making a rather succulent
Rafe sandwich. Blair was near comatose, draped against Rafe's back, floating,
quite comfortably thank-you-very-much, on a post coital cloud, still embedded
in the man who simply wouldn't stop boffing his partner. But something
(other than his exhausted cock) interrupted his rather pathetic attempts
at meditation. The phone was ringing. With a well-aimed swing, normally
reserved for the clock alarm (which Jim insisted on setting for six o'clock
pm), Blair took out the
receiver with the accuracy of a hired hit man and it tumbled to the floor. Jim began to groan as Rafe continued his insistent thrusting, panting and moaning. Blair could feel his own cock hardening *again* as Jim's whimpering pushed the alpha male button deep within Blair's recessive genes. Unfortunately the rest of his body refused to cooperate and he had to be content with riding out the storm, allowing Rafe's clenching hole to do all the work.
Finally, the filling in the sandwich decided to take pity on the bread. And it happened . . . the earth moved, the fireworks exploded, the orchestra played, the fat lady sang, the birds tweeted, stars circled overhead . . . and Simon broke down the door.
The tableau before him was one which Simon had occasionally (okay, frequently . . . okay, okay, every night) imagined while he jerked off at night. But he honestly never thought that it would be in front of him in living colour, and quite nice colour at that.
The three men lay in a mass on the bed, legs and arms so tangled that it was hard to tell where one started and the other ended. Rafe and Blair began the arduous task of figuring out who belonged to what and finally lay side by side on the bed, pushing the unconscious Jim to one side.
"Did you see Simon?"
"I thought I was hallucinating."
"Well, it must be a mass hallucination of two 'cause I saw him too." In unison they raised their heads off the mattress and looked at the door.
"Well gentlemen. Rafe, I'm glad you took my advice to heart and didn't let them out of your sight. Although this is a bit above and beyond the call of duty." Rafe scrambled to his feet and then, realizing the view he was giving his superior officer, grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around his waist.
"Sir. I can explain."
"Don't." Simon held up a hand. Rafe subsided. "I have let this go on for the last three weeks, and I'll have you know I'm very disappointed in all of you."
"But Simon . . ."
"That's 'Captain' to you, Sandburg." Seeing that he had the situation firmly under control, Simon decided that rank had better damn well have its privileges and if he couldn't get a mortgage then he was going to get the next best thing.
"As I was saying. I'm very disappointed. I would have thought more of you. This whole contract . . . and yes I found out about it, they didn't make me a captain just because I was good at kissing ass." Distracted looks came over Rafe and Blair at the very lovely image *that* evoked. Simon continued, ignoring the reactions for the moment. "Blair, you know that I would have been more than happy to help you out with any financial problems. That you didn't come to me is quite the disappointment. Thanks to the settlement I made with Joan, I would have been in a perfect position to help, and I wouldn't have been half as hard to please as Rafe. And as for you, Rafe. I'm disappointed that you didn't come to me regarding your frustrations. And I'm not talking about your lack of case load. Jim, I'll discuss things with later." His cell phone rang and he pulled it out. "WHAT?....oh. Good....I'll let them know."
"That was Connor. She picked up Johnson at the loft. You're all free to go home now."
Feeling rightly chastened, Blair and Rafe met each other's eyes and nodded.
"Well, Captain, sir. There must be *something* that we can do to make it up to you. We've been very negligent in our duties and our friendship." Blair said contritely, walking over to Simon, comfortable in only his skin. "We'd be prepared to do some revising of our contract. I'm sure that Jim wouldn't mind."
As he spoke, Blair slowly unbuttoned Simon's shirt, bringing it down his shoulders and laving an exposed nipple with his tongue.
*boing* Banks JR stood at attention. Oh yeah.
Rafe let the sheet drop and stepped over to encourage Simon's pants to follow suit. The rampant erection that was uncovered, however, appeared to be doing everything to defy gravity.
"I always like to take a test drive before I commit myself to any business venture."
"Lucky for you, we're offering free samples of *all* the goods." Rafe moaned as he lightly stroked the cock in front of his face, trying to avert disaster by undoing Simon's shoes.
A moan came from the bed as Jim began to return to the land of the living.
The three standing men glanced at the bed, glanced at each other and decided
unanimously that the last one to the bed would be the one who would be
on the bottom. Rafe had the benefit of having (as Blair had noted) the
sexual constitution of the Energizer Bunny, so despite the earlier hard
ride, was primed for the race. Simon had the advantage of longer legs,
but Banks JR was putting a decided crimp in his stride. Blair had the disadvantages
of being short and having fucked and been fucked within an inch of his
life for the last three weeks. But he had
the added incentive of being plain tired of being on the bottom all the time.
In the end it was a draw. Jim awoke as his cock was sucked into the
eager mouth of Rafe. While he normally was quite happy to wake up to such
a pleasant experience, he honestly thought that he wouldn't have anything
left to give. His cock had other plans and was happy to dissuade him of
that belief as it slowly hardened. It wasn't until he was hard and eager
that he realized there was another smell in the room. Cigars. Now there
was a phallic symbol if there ever was one. He raised his head and almost
came at the sight.
While Rafe was sucking on him like there was no tomorrow, the young
man was straddled over Simon's head, his erection being treated like a
lollipop that was Simon's favourite flavour. Simon was flat on his back
and Blair was on his knees, rocking back and forth, impaled on the captain's
erection, having decided that while topping was nice once in a while, having
a prostate really made bottoming worthwhile. Twice the pleasure, twice
the fun! Jim decided that there would be something poetic about making
a complete circle and reached out, with the long arm of law so to speak,
and firmly gripped Blair's cock that was being
neglected as Blair required both hands to keep his balance over Simon. All talk was reduced to pants and groans and the occasional "oh god" and "more" and "harder" and "yesyesyes" on the part of those whose mouths were otherwise unoccupied. Strangled moans were all to be heard from Simon and Rafe.
Blair started a chain reaction as he moved up and down on Simon's cock,
using his weight to get Simon deeper into him, making sure that his prostate
was rubbed going up and coming down. His climax took him by surprise, rushing
over him as he spurted over Simon's chest and Jim's hand, his internal
muscles clamping down on Simon in a rapid set of convulsions. Simon gurgled
around Rafe's cock as the tight channel's pulse caused him to erupt into
Blair. His scream of ecstasy around Rafe's cock, with a
timely thrust on his subordinate's part, allowed the overwhelmed captain to quite easily deep throat the hard shaft which was Rafe's undoing. Rafe came with an agonized groan, as he continued to milk Jim. And poor, poor Jim. He lost all control on his sense, revelling in the heady scent of their passion, focussing on the sweating, naked bodies surrounding him, the feel of firm muscles, soft skin, varying textures of hair, the sound of panting, the taste of sweat and semen. He came with the force of an explosion from deep within, filling Rafe's throat. The world spiralled away.
"He's out again, isn't he?" Rafe managed to squeak as he released Jim.
"Yup." Blair rolled off of Simon and sprawled on his back. He tilted his head back to look up at Simon.
"So, do you like the merchandise? We can do wholesale if you like."
"Cut me in."