TITLE: True Calling

SERIES: None

AUTHOR: Firestorm17

eaherbst@prodigy.net

FANDOM: H:LOTS

PAIRING: Surprise.

RATING: NC-17 This fic is unsuitable for young children and sensitive fans of all ages.

ARCHIVE: CKoS, WWOMB, Schism eventually if you want it

FEEDBACK: If you want to comment on the story, go ahead. If you want to tell me that I am mentally unwell, don't bother; I get enough of that from professionals.

DISCLAIMER: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Dick Wolf, Tom Fontana or Barry Levinson. I also doubt very seriously that anybody would pay me for this.

WARNING: This is slash, also known as nekkid men having sex. If you're not into that, don't read this. Also, this is not for H:LOTS slashers with weak stomachs. There's a good chance it will squick the hell out of you. If you're more concerned about being squicked than being spoiled, please scroll down to the end.

SPOILERS: Just the "have the PTB been sniffing glue?" rotation crap.

SUMMARY: It's not what you know; it's who you know.

NOTES: My brain goes to some scary places in the middle of the night. And they're so much fun when you don't have to respect them after. Also, thanks to my beta-reader, whose name is withheld here because uncorroborated accomplice testimony is inadmissable. All mistakes left in are mine.

True Calling
By Firestorm17

A key turned in the lock, letting two men into the seedy motel room. The younger of the pair began to strip even before the door swung closed, exposing the lines of his body for his companion's approval. The other watched avidly as the clothes fell away, revealing shaven
olive skin glistening with sweat. The matched gold rings in the half-naked man's ears held his black associate's attention for a few seconds before his gaze was drawn over the almost effeminate shoulder-length hair, and then to the pale pink lips framed by a thin mustache. If the dark-skinned policeman hadn't known that the man undressing in front of him was also a cop, he would have believed him to be one of the whores that worked the Block. Tearing his eyes away
from the tantalizing display, the older man distractedly set to work on his own clothes.

Retrieving a tube from the pocket of his leather jacket, the pale detective let that last item of clothing drop to the floor. Flopping onto the bed with all the natural grace of a dead fish, he worked the slick gel into his hole, his own finger stretching him enough to take whatever the other man wanted to throw at him. Watching the black man pull off his briefs letting the dark cock inside them spring free, the man on the bed reached for his jacket on the floor, withdrawing a foil-wrapped disk and tossing it to his soon-to-be sex partner.

"You better put that on. I'm not stupid enough to get fucked bareback."

Verifying that the older man was actually rolling the condom down his considerable length, the mustached cop rose onto his hands and knees, bracing himself for entry. Holding the olive-skinned asscheeks apart, the black cop pushed his latex-clad cock into the offered hole, finding little resistance within. As his body was breached, the long-haired man shoved himself backwards, impaling himself further.

Profoundly obscene noises spilled from the kneeling man's lips as he buried the older man's hard dick deep inside himself again and again, squeezing the long cock tightly with his internal muscles as he felt it pound the sensitive gland within him mercilessly. Shifting his balance onto one arm, he slipped his other hand down between his legs to stroke his own prick roughly. He knew that the man on top of him would want to feel him come from the inside out and would get off on the power of it. After only a few tugs at his undersized shaft, the olive-skinned detective was spilling into his hand, his insides milking the orgasm out of the thick cock buried within him. He tried not to think about how easy this was for him or how good it felt, telling himself that this act was just business no matter what his dick thought about it.

Panting heavily, the younger man eased their combined weight down to the mattress, his nerves still electrified from his climax. The other man slipped a hand between their joined bodies and gripped his softening shaft to keep from losing the condom as he pulled out. While he disposed of the rubber, his olive-skinned companion carefully turned over, shifting to sit gingerly at the side of the bed.

"Like I was saying, sir, I like working auto theft all right. It's steady work, pays the bills. But it's just a job. I mean, I just get people their cars back. That's nothing next to what the guys over in Homicide do. I mean-"

Joining the younger cop on the bed, the dark man interrupted his babbling companion mid-sentence.

"Detective, out of all the things you could be doing with that mouth right now, talking isn't the one I'd choose."

Cautiously leaning over the foot of the bed, Paul Falsone retrieved a second condom from his jacket pocket. Easing himself off of the mattress and onto his knees, he took his superior's cock in hand, stroking until the colonel was again erect. Lowering his head, the Italian used his lips to roll the sheath onto the older man's dark shaft. Trying to ignore the taste of latex in his mouth as he
started to suck, Falsone took the condom-clothed erection in deeper, one thought occupying his mind: "There has *got* to be an easier way for a guy to get himself rotated."

END

The preceding fic is rated NC-17-FFF for Full Frontal Falsone. The pairing is Barnfather/Falsone. The author assumes no responsibility for loss of sanity, loss of lunch or any sexual side effects resulting from reading it. You've got to admit, though, this does explain how the little bastard could have ended up in the Homicide unit.