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| Fandom: | Houston Knights |
| Series: | Other Authors |
| Rating: | NC-17 |
| Pairing: | Joe/Levon |
| Archive: | Starwinder's |
| Title: | Tender Is the Night |
| Author: | Glo |
| e-mail: | Goglow@mailcity.com |
| Standard Disclaimer: Houston Knights belongs to Jay Bernstein and Michael Butler and Columbia Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fan fiction, written out of love for the shows. I am making no money off this. I have no money so please don't sue me. Any original characters that may appear in these stories are the property of the author. | |
TENDER IS THE NIGHT
By Glo
"Gawdamnit, LaFiamma, jest quit." Lundy's thunderous brow would have had most of his friends and colleagues running for cover, but not his own partner, not Mr. Joseph 'I-Know-Better-Than-You' LaFiamma.
"You are going in the wrong place on this one, Lundy," LaFiamma punched out words with a heavy, deep voice that carried across the bullpen.
Suddenly Levon Lundy had had enough for one day. Surging to his booted feet, the Texan snarled, "That's it. You know it so dad-blamed well? Then you jest go solve this one on yore own, son. I'm going home."
LaFiamma, half way into a deep breath to counter whatever argument his HPD partner might muster, was caught by surprise. He looked down at his watch. Quitting time was long past. He and Lundy had been at it, tooth and nail, for at least the last half-hour. Each convinced he was right on how to proceed in one of their current cases. He closed his mouth without another word, shoved a drawer shut and stood.
Lundy, who had grabbed his Stetson and was dragging on his denim jacket in steamy silence, ignored his partner. He'd had a long day as they'd gone from one uncooperative witness to another, interviewing people who hated cops. Now, his own partner, a man who could have made things easier, wuz simply arguing to hear hizself as far as Lundy could tell. He stalked toward the door to the Major Crimes Unit, not surprised really to see LaFiamma fall in to step with him. They might argue like cats and dogs, but at end of day, some magnetism still drew them together.
[Opposites attracting?] Levon squelched the thought.
Down in the underground parking garage of the police station, Lundy climbed into his red Jimmy as LaFiamma dropped into his dark sports car.
Both engines started with roars, but then the peal of squealing tires preceded LaFiamma's exit, a final non-verbal and caustic reply of the day.
The red truck backed out of its parking place slowly and then sedately pulled out of the garage.
*******************
LEVON
Sleep came slowly for Levon. He lay awake for sometime, mulling over the day, retracing their activities, replaying certain scenes. Changing the endings of a few. Remembering the way Joe's dark hair had dropped down over his eye as he peered down at a case file, how he'd tossed his head back, then finally run his fingers back through the thick shag of hair, pushing it back in place impatiently.
Levon closed his eyes. His fingers twitched and stroked the sheeted mattress.
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.
Joe slid under the covers beside Levon, turning in towards him automatically. The big man's arms snaked around Lundy's slender, blonde form and hauled it up against the brunette. One hand casually drifted up the spinal column, ending in the mass of blonde curls at the base of Levon's head. The fingers plowed through the locks, twisting them, pulling them, tugging the head back to expose the long column of throat.
A wet, rough tongue found a place to glide up the tanned neck, ending with a swirl of movement, wet and slick at the pocket formed by jaw bone and neck tendons on the left side.
Joe's second hand had been busy too. As the first went up the spine, the second came down to cup one firm buttock, then squeeze it and move on. An assertive finger followed the crevasse between cheeks until it reached the soft, tiny pucker of flesh below. Joe paused, his hand left briefly and Levon could hear the nightstand drawer open. Then the finger was back, but now it was coated with a cool, slick gel that was gently applied to the pucker. The slickened finger traveled on, down and over the heavy sagging balls and caught at the excess skin that held the two globes within.
Levon felt himself lifted slightly, then higher and he was lying face down on top of his dark lover.
The Italian's chest rose and fell beneath him, his hands clamped Lundy tight to his body. The hand at his neck caressed the curls of blonde hair, but held him firmly. The other hand stroked his anus with authority, first one, then two fingers dipping in, pushing into the closely guarded opening.
Levon groaned and let his own hands dig under LaFiamma's sharp shoulder blades, pulling and pressing himself closer to the dark man.
Lundy tried to arch back at the stimulation of the hand alternating between his opening and his balls. He rubbed his stiff pole against Joe's monster. Felt the incredible heat of the two wands rubbing together, starting their own fire. Moisture on his belly told him that either or both of their shafts were leaking now, pre-ejaculate fluid dampening the space between them, making their now rhythmic tug and pull into a slippery dance of bodies.
"Joey! Joey!" Levon was panting now. He wanted to swallow his lover whole, but settled for fumbling his hands up to capture the dear face, the beautiful flashing dark face of his lover and redirect it upwards from his throat to his lips. Hungrily, greedily, he chewed on those full lips, his tongue forcing itself deeply into the man's mouth where it was met with welcome suction until he thought Joey was gonna pull it out by the root.
He pulled himself up Joe's body, letting his penis drag through the dark curls of Joe's groin before catching at his belly. Joe's pursuing fingers forced entry again at Levon's anus. Suddenly, Levon was rearing up pushing back against the restraining hands.
He sat up and onto those probing fingers, there were three now in his ass, pushing, prodding, hitting his private, special spot sending an explosion of sensation through his body. Levon's hands were playing with Joe's nipples now, lightly rubbing his thumbs and forefingers over them, bringing them up. Then Levon was diving down , his body doubled up, as his tongued one of the tight, hard pink points on Joe's chest. The answering groan and shudder were ample reward.
The force of a hard jab on his prostate was like a tsunami of current that crested as it swept through his body. He cried out, incoherently this time, lifting to his knees where he now straddled his partner. The fingers left him, causing him to choke out an inarticulate question. Then Joe's hard penis was at his gate and pushing in, forcing entry. It felt slick, too. Joe musta lubed it, was Levon's last coherent thought for a while. He gasped again and would have come but Joe's free hand, the one that had held his long neck captive, now held Levon's penis in a firm grasp. In command, the hand started to jerk along the shaft, and Levon was spurting up on to his own chest even as he felt Joe's hips thrust up, lifting him too, and then heat, liquid filled him as Joe came too.
LaFiamma's soft cry of completion was music to the cowboy. Lundy carefully lowered himself back down on top of his lover, feeling Joe slip out of him now, spent and shrinking.
Then LaFiamma was gathering him into a tight embrace, hands and arms and legs all wrapping possessively, lovingly, securely around the sated blonde. A mouth opened and damp parted lips kissed his shoulder, his collarbone, and would have traveled up his neck again, except that Lundy was kissing back now, finding the lips and trading breaths through the joined mouths, words lost in the total meld of the two bodies. Hearts, minds, bodies, in unison, seared on a fire of passion, lying spent now, mellowed and complete. Levon's breath evened out and his sleep deepened.
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
"I love you, Joey," he murmured as he sunk through the layers of sleep into a depth that knew no dreams.
*****************
JOE
"Damn, damn, damn!" Joe was pissed royally. He could hear the tires of his Cobra squeal as he swerved out of the police garage, fleeing his partner.
[Damn him, damn him, damn him!] Joe's anger abruptly stopped as he realized what he was thinking. [No. Never that.] His Catholic upbringing abhorred such curses. [God, forgive me. I didn't mean it, not really. Don't damn him, please, don't.]
Joe took a deep breath and exhaled slowly the way his guru had taught him in meditation class. [Try to center.] He began to slow his car, ease back on the gas. He recited his mantra softly, under his breath. The fierce look of anger dissipated slowly. He took another deep breath and released it with restraint, control.
Control. THAT's what was missing from his life... among other things.
The Cobra homed in on the curb outside his apartment building, almost of its own accord. The brunette looked around in surprise. He couldn't even remember large parts of the drive from Reisner. The grip of his square, powerful hands on the wheel tightened momentarily as fear displaced his newly achieved calm.
Another breath. He hunched his shoulders over the wheel, let his forehead rest on it. Waited to recapture the calm he had so recently reached.
What was it that provoked these never ending clashes? He remembered disagreements with Szabo, but they'd never become so vituperative, so angry. Why was it that he and Lundy couldn't find a way to work together without fighting? He locked his car and walked inside, climbing the stairs slowly, letting his thoughts expand and flow where they would. According to his meditation instructor, he would learn more by allowing his inner self to guide him. He tried to listen, but his partner's voice kept intruding. Sharp, sometimes mean, angry.
[Why?] He might have another point of view, a valuable insight, but Lundy just never wanted to hear it, to listen, to allow that his partner might have independent thoughts, ideas.
Joe unconsciously knotted his fists and increased his pace until he was taking the stairs two and three at a time. His long legs eating up the heights.
Agitated again, he reached his apartment door. Once inside, he proceeded to strip, then bundle his clothes into the laundry basket. Naked, he walked about the apartment, absently playing with himself.
[Lundy. Levon. What is wrong with the man?]
He stroked his thickening member, cupped his balls and lifted them, let them land softly back down in his palm. He continued to pace, now letting his fingers scratch the dark curls of pubic hair. One finger found the familiar route to the flared crown that now stood proudly free and bobbed in time with his strides.
[Levon. Why is he always fighting with me?]
His hand made a fist around the now stiff pole and began to sweep up and down in an old rhythm.
[Lundy. Lundy. Lundy.]
He was getting warm now, felt a bit of moisture, slick at the tip of his shaft. He automatically spread it over his thickened shaft, changing his grip.
[Lundy.]
He stopped now and faced Houston through his picture window, stood there naked, tall, alone. The hand on his penis was moving fast now, in a tempo that was jazzing his blood, frying his brain with pleasure.
[Lundy.]
He jerked fiercely. And he was cumming and cumming, the stuff hitting the plate glass and splattering.
"Leeeeee-vawwwwwwwwwwn!"
Shattered, both by the orgasm and by what he'd cried out as he came, Joe sank to the carpeted floor and let his head fall to his knees. [Ohmigod!]
********************
It was a long time later that Joe finally sat back up.
His heart had returned to its normal beat, his racing pulse was slowed. The absolute exhaustion that had wiped his mind blank was receding. He could think again. About what he'd just done. [Jesus, Mary, Mother of God, Joseph, and all the Apostles.] He had cum to the litany of his partner's name. Now he was truly lost.
*****************
LEVON
The alarm woke Levon early. He stretched and stood, turning to look down at the soiled bed clothing. He'd had another wet dream... about his own partner... again.
He'd have to change the sheets afore heading out to Reisner. Otherwise the smell of old cum would permeate the whole house. His phantom lover had vanished in the morning light. He rubbed the back of his neck, pushing the damp blonde curls aside.
[Damn.] Now he had to find a way to git through another day with the real LaFiamma at work. Mebbe today, he'd ask Joe if they could have a real personal conversation, private-like. Mebbe today.
*****************
JOE
Sleep held Joe until his alarm ripped him from its arms. Memories snapped back and he woke to terror.
[Lundy!]
His mind was an enormous well of guilt, fear, self-castigation. Could he even face his partner this morning? What would he say? What could he say? 'Hey, Levon, guess you really turn me on - I jerked off to the sound of your name last night, and it was the best cum I've had in over a year.'
Yeah, tell him that. That would make his day. Still, something had changed. He felt different. Maybe he'd been secretly, subconsciously wanting the man that way. Maybe his anxiety, his need, had triggered the anger he seemed to endlessly provoke in his partner? Maybe he should talk about it. Maybe today.
----finis----