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First Weekend Off

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First Weekend Off
by Anne Higgins

Sergeant Joe LaFiamma sat at his desk and considered luck. On the face of it, anyone would have to say that he was indeed a lucky man. The mob had called off the contract on his life. He and his partner had survived the shoot out at the warehouse with Kip Corden and his goons, thus bringing his first case as a member of the Houston Police Department to a successful end. And, to his utter amazement, the case had been concluded without him murdering Lundy or vice versa. Hell, Lundy had even let him live after he'd wrecked the man's precious jeep.

Yeah, LaFiamma was a lucky man.

Except that the contract had been called off on the condition he never go back home to Chicago; he was lonely and the only thing he had approaching a friend was his partner; this same partner hated his guts; and when he'd managed to lighten things up between them enough to get Lundy to let him drive his jeep, he'd wrecked it.

Oh, yeah, he was a real lucky man.

He sighed, did another read through of the crime report he'd spent the last hour writing, then signed it. Thus ended the first week of his great Houston Exile. He'd never agreed to make Houston his home. It was only supposed to be a transfer lasting for a few months while the uproar of his killing a mob boss' protégé died down. But that was before it became clear the uproar would only end with his death, forcing his Uncle Mikey to cut a deal to keep him alive.

Nothing about the deal said he had to stay in Houston, but the way Joe had it figured, if he applied for a second transfer to a different city it would look like he was some sort of problem cop. It would take years for his career to recover. No. He was stuck here for at least a year, two would be better. Two years in this damp heat. To think he used to consider Chicago summers a hot and humid nightmare. Houston was worse. And it was full of cowboys who favored music wailing about pickup trucks.

Speaking of which....

"You finished yet, boy?" Sergeant Levon Lundy asked as he returned from fetching -- cowboys were always off fetching or tending to something -- a cup of coffee. "I'd like to get out of here before Joanne changes her mind about lettin' us have the weekend off."

Couldn't let that happen, now could he? A weekend off in Hicksville. Joy, rapture, etc. Maybe he'd give himself a treat and clip his toenails. "All finished," he muttered, dropping the report on top of the pile in Lieutenant Joanne Beaumont's inbin. "Let's go."

He followed Lundy down to the police garage, then ignored the quiet snickers that greeted them. He guessed it was too much to hope everyone would forget about the accident with the jeep any time soon. Bad enough he'd wrecked the damn thing, but why had it had to happen here? His wonderful luck in action again.

Lundy hopped into his brand new red jimmy, then started the engine as Joe got in. After all that fuss about the jeep, he'd decided to buy a new vehicle. Said the jeep was too fucking small if he was going to be saddled with a partner.

Joe gave him a sour look, but opted not to reopen the discussion. Instead he settled back in his seat, closed his eyes, tried to pretend his ears weren't being assaulted by twangy voices accompanied by steel guitars and concentrated on what to do with himself this weekend.

He could see if Carol had forgiven him, but it was unlikely. She'd not been at all pleased with Lundy walking in on their post-coital bliss. Not that it had been very blissful. While he'd cuddled her as she'd seemed to want him to, Joe had grown all too aware he'd used her. He'd wanted warmth, some comfort to ease the blow of finding out he could never go home again, not her. He'd never used anyone before. Though the label bisexual was an accurate one, Joe preferred sex with a man most times and had always been very careful to never turn to a woman when he'd wanted something else.

That left him feeling homeless and like a louse. Lundy showing up had ended any chance of his finding a way to make it all feel okay in his mind. He'd not really been angry when Lundy's arrival and subsequent teasing had made her give Joe the cold shoulder the next time they'd bumped into each other at the pool. No, that interlude was over. Besides, Joe wanted a man.

He considered the notion. Wasn't much point in being stranded in this cow town if he couldn't indulge in making a few cowboy fantasies real. Problem was Houston didn't strike him as being any more tolerant of gay cops than Chicago. Which meant he had to be careful about where he went.

Back home, it would have been easy. He'd have hit his front door, showered, changed, then headed for the area of Chicago known as Boy's Town. He'd been plugged into the grapevine in Chicago, had known when Vice was thinking of harassing a gay nightclub under the pretense of checking for alcohol violations. Here, he could find himself in the middle of a raid before he finished his first drink, and wouldn't that be the topper on this whole Houston mess. He could just hear some dumb jerk from Houston Vice shouting, 'Hey, ain't you Lundy's partner?'

Maybe he'd spend the weekend reading a good book. If only his backside weren't so damned itchy for something long and hard. He opened his eyes, glancing at his partner. Something like the promise filling out the front of Lundy's jeans. He smiled slightly. Man was a complete pain in the ass. Too bad he couldn't be a literal one.

The thought made him snicker which drew Lundy's attention.

"Mind tellin' me what's so funny, boy?"

LaFiamma glared at him, opened his mouth to tell him he'd had it with this 'boy' stuff, then, "New boy, huh, Levon?' LaFiamma heard Isaiah's voice assessing him again, felt the snitch's finger brushing against the bruise on his cheek. And he remembered the smirk on his partner's face as he'd agreed with the statement.

New boy indicated at least one former boy, while the smirk put an interesting spin on the whole exchange.

'Bastard,' he thought. 'Are you yanking my chain or. …'

Another song started up. This one a lament to … hell, he didn't want to listen to it enough to find out to what. "Nothing," he muttered, pointedly turning his head to stare out his window.

Lundy might be interested. What a thought. Not necessarily a good one either. Joe had never fucked where he worked. So to speak. Then again, he'd never really had the opportunity before either. So did he take the chance? It might make things better between them, and it would certainly be easier on his jaw if they used sex to burn off their differences. Make love and not war, then trust to luck it wouldn't make things worse? Luck. There was that damned word again. Guess it all came down to whether his luck had been running to the glass half full or glass half empty side of things.

By the time Lundy pulled up in front of LaFiamma's new apartment -- no way in hell was he staying in the one the department had originally tried to force on him -- he'd come to a few conclusions. And a decision.

"See you tomorrow, LaFiamma," a voice still simmering with anger hissed at him.

"I don't think so."

That got the man's attention. Lundy jerked around in the driver's seat to face him. "What're you goin' on about, boy? Beaumont said-"

LaFiamma kissed him, half to shut him up, half because he wanted to, the night dark enough and the lighting bad enough to shield his action from any prying eyes.

A few beats passed before Lundy jerked away from him and demanded, "What the hell do you think you're doin'?"

It was LaFiamma's turn to smirk. "If you're going to spread it all around town that I'm your boy, you can damn well make certain I have the fun to go with the reputation."

He slammed out of the car and stalked to his front door, leaving his handsome, sexy, lousy joke of a partner to follow or not.

Lundy caught hold of him as he stepped into his apartment, using the grip on LaFiamma's arm to all but slam him up against the inside wall.

Lundy kicked the door shut, then captured Joe's mouth in a bruising kiss. When it ended, he whispered, "It's damned impolite to leave when things are gettin' interesting, boy."

His arms went around the blasted cowboy life had cursed him with. "So it is."

This time when lips met, they parted and tongues began to explore.

Joe decided Lundy tasted as good as he looked in those tight jeans of his. It crossed his mind a man could get addicted to a taste like that, but LaFiamma pushed it back into a dark corner where he didn't have to deal with it. Instead, he concentrated on getting the man out of those jeans.

He managed to push denim and boxers down around lean, muscular thighs and moaned softly as Lundy bared him in a similar fashion.

Naked groin pressed against naked groin, and the two men began to thrust together. Suddenly starved for Lundy, it took only a few seconds for LaFiamma to come. The warm damp of Levon's seed spilling as well kept the blush from his face, but he felt strangely shy and unable to meet his partner's gaze.

A gentle caress along his jaw soothed him as Lundy asked, "You satisfied?"

"Nope," he muttered, leaning into the touch. "Hungry for more."

"More requires supplies and a mite more comfort," Lundy told him, leaning in for another kiss.

LaFiamma took the hint, his lips parting to admit the probing tongue.

Lundy didn't withdraw until he'd done a thorough job of ravaging the open mouth. "Joey?"

"Mmm?"

"What say we move this party upstairs?"

"Hmm, whatever you want," he answered, letting Lundy handle readjusting their clothes for the trip. Then he remembered a bruise on his face had prompted all of this. "One thing though."

"What's that?"

"You try battering me to keep me in line and you'll find you have a hell of a lot more room in those jeans of yours."

It took Lundy a beat, but his smile indicated he'd figured out he'd been threatened with castration. "Boy, I'm not sayin' you won't warrant a poundin' from time to time, but keepin' you in line in the bedroom ain't somethin' I need my fists for."

"Uh huh. Think you're gonna have to prove that, cowboy," he said, catching hold of Lundy's hand and leading the way to the staircase.

"It'll be a pleasure, boy. It'll be a pleasure."

And so it was. Repeatedly.

Joe woke up the next morning and smirked. The itch in his backside had given way to the vague ache he reveled in and the more literal itch of dried semen clinging to his skin. Ride 'em, Cowboy.

"You look far too pleased with yourself, LaFiamma," Lundy said, shifting up onto his elbow.

He started to smile, then frowned as it sank in Lundy had finally deigned to pronounce his name correctly. Damn, he'd been such a jerk in the airport. "I was scared, you know."

"Hmm?" Lundy gently nuzzled his jaw, "scared about what?"

"In the airport, when you had me paged. All I could think was that they'd just broadcast my arrival to every hitman in the state."

The nuzzling stopped. "Can understand that, but you might have told me what was goin' on."

"Dunno why I didn't. Guess I thought talking about it would interfere with my macho image."

Lundy grinned. "You're forgiven, but you're still a jackass."

Hmpf. Then again. ... "Speaking of jackass...." He spread his legs to give Lundy the idea.

"Boy, you are insatiable," his cowboy answered, shifting over to lie on top of him. "Where'd you put the lube?"

He laughed. "You put any more of that stuff in me and I'll turn into an oil slick. Just stick it in."

"Such a silver-tongued charmer."

"I'm merely trying to get through to you in a way I think you'll understand."

Lundy nipped Joe's lower lip. "Lieutenant gave you the same speech, did she?"

"Yeah."

"We fuck instead of fight every time we rile one another, your backside's gonna be a mite tender."

"It's that or you stop wearing your jeans so tight."

His hips shifted, and Lundy slipped inside him. "Wouldn't be a proper Texan if I did that."

Joe gasped at the delicious heat filling him. Damn, it felt good. "You pay for half the lube."

"Deal. Now, shut up before you put me off my stroke."

"Now who's the silver-tongued charmer?"

They both laughed, then Lundy's next thrust found LaFiamma's prostate, and he lost the ability to think, let alone speak. Next lucid breath he took was to find himself sated, with his partner all but passed out on top of him. The man definitely had a gift.

He patted Lundy's shoulder, then let himself drift off. Hot sex and a long lazy morning. His favorite way to spend a Saturday off.

Lundy had other ideas. Of course. He shook himself, waking Joe before he got a decent hold on sleep. "Rise and shine, boy, we've got things to do."

LaFiamma glared at him, rolled out from underneath him, then flopped over onto his stomach. Trust the damned cowboy to not know how to handle a day off. "I'm not rising or shining."

"Boy, you give me a target like that and you'll have no call to complain if we get back to the batterin' part."

LaFiamma grinned against the pillow and gave his ass a provocative twitch. "Threaten me all you like. I'm sleeping in."

"All right, have it your way," Lundy answered, giving Joe's backside a pat instead of a swat. "But you'll only have yourself to blame if I'm too tired tonight to give you another thrill."

That got LaFiamma's attention. "What are you going on about?"

"Movin's hard work. Damned tirin' when you're doin' it by your lonesome."

"Moving?"

"Yeah. I figure it's time I moved out of that trailer and back into my house.

His house. While they were waiting for Corden's call, Lundy had told him the trailer wasn't his home. Just some place he'd been staying since his wife had been killed. Lundy had helped him get over his partner's death; maybe LaFiamma had helped him find a way to put his wife's death behind him.

"Sounds like a good way to spend a weekend," he said, shifting over onto his back so he could look at Lundy.

That earned him a kiss. "Yeah. Welcome to Houston, LaFiamma."

"Thanks." Hell, damn city might have a few small bright spots after all.

The End