First Ride

CODE: D (set in the D Is For Damien storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): NA

PAIRING: Det. Justin Reichert/Officer Joseph Silvertree (M/M)

EXPLANATION: See "Feeling It" for backstory on Det. Reichert. Basically, I wanted to settle my character Reichert down but he simply refused to do so, and went whoring around with just about anybody still breathing. O_o I even tried fixing him up in a polyamorous relationship...didn't work! (Most of these scenes...well...I should say all of them...are unwritten as of yet...as soon as I would settle on one, he'd go running off into another! Damn it Reichert!!) I tried EVERYTHING I could with this guy and he just would not settle down!! Well anyway...somewhere along the line in my unwritten novels, the character of Officer Joe Silvertree, a Lakota tribal police officer, shows up in a minor supporting role...and for some reason I got to thinking, what if...? Then I thought, "Nah." Then I thought again, "What if...?" And after a while resistance wore down, and I attempted a scene. SO FAR...these two are working out. But probably only because of the threat of the secret of their relationship getting out...I don't know, I guess Reichert needs SOME sort of chaos in his life in order to function, since all of the nice hunky-dory relationships I set him up in didn't work!! Not only is there the tension of (the closeted) Silvertree's preferences getting out, but there is also the additional tension of him being in a relationship with an outsider, a white person. Which one of those is worse? I have not figured it out yet. I decided to write up the first scene of these two together, as well as what happens immediately afterward...when Reichert gets the surprise of his life. (Suffice it to say that Silvertree is rather evasive with more than just his fellow Lakota...)

UPDATE 2/06: The new, second scene here, "Before Anybody Misses Us," is meant to be the one where Silvertree finally ends up being inadvertently outed, when a passerby from the tribe spots his vehicle, and gets a brief glimpse of what exactly's going on inside--uh-oh. A bunch of crap is supposed to ensue...but you can just ask me about that yourself if you want to hear how it turns out. :P

DISCLAIMERS: I know nothing about the Lakota customs regarding this topic, so am just going on guesswork--sorry. The first is a new scene as of January 2005, the second as of February 2006 so, no major disclaimers. There WAS going to be a little bit more to the first scene, regarding Reichert's and Amy's talk...and more to the second, regarding their accidental voyeur...but I decided eh, why keep it going on, you just came here for the M/M sex. :P

* * * * *

First Ride

Reichert wasn't expecting it when Silvertree leaned toward him, but he braced himself anyway, from having seen the gesture before. Still, when the other man's lips brushed against his, he couldn't help but furrow his brow in confusion.

You mean he's...?

He hadn't even gotten any sign of it, until now, and he was usually good at such things; he'd figured his visit to Silvertree's house was just that, a visit. He felt a tongue prodding against his mouth and opened, uncertain of what to do; their tongues met, and he could feel Silvertree's breath, warm against his face. A moment later his eyes fluttered shut; a hand had slipped down to his waist and inside his pants, fingers just barely brushing against his crotch. He felt his heartbeat pick up and his breath came a little faster; it had been a while since he had been with anybody, and Silvertree's touch excited him immediately. Any other time, he would have merely returned the gesture, and gone along with it to its inevitable conclusion...yet for some reason today he felt almost bewildered by it. His heart had not pounded so hard and his head hadn't felt so giddy in a very long time.

He wondered which of them would end up on top, even while he feverishly hoped he would be on the bottom--when Silvertree's other hand reached behind him to clasp over the back of his neck, crushing their mouths together almost possessively. Reichert shivered and then went loose, panting heavily; he didn't protest or pull away when Silvertree pushed on him to lower him to the couch, nor when the other man started pulling at his clothes, biting and sucking at his lips as he did so. Reichert shook the whole time, confused by how excited he was. He was used to sex, and the mere physical pleasure of it...yet he hadn't truly enjoyed it in a long time. It had stopped giving him that lightheaded feeling long ago, no matter how many times he engaged in it, or with whom. For some reason, this felt...different, somehow. As Silvertree pulled at his clothes, he simply lay still at first, letting him do so and unsure of how to respond, or if he should even respond at all.

Is this a good idea...?

Silvertree had to break their kiss to pull Reichert's shirt over his head, and he took this chance to suck in a shaky breath. As soon as their mouths met again, Silvertree was undoing his pants, pushing them down, tugging down his underwear; he then moved to his own clothes, breaking contact once more to pull off his own shirt and toss it aside. The zipping sound of him undoing his own pants made Reichert shudder; Silvertree pulled them down and kicked them off with his leg, doing the same with his underwear so he was now naked. He brought himself down over Reichert's body and the moment their hips touched, Reichert put his arms around him, poking his tongue in his mouth and running his hands up and down his back. He moaned softly at the feel of him, and Silvertree responded by running his fingers through his hair, then down his side. Reichert shifted his legs, which was difficult, considering that his pants were bunched down below his knees; he felt Silvertree lift himself a little, then his hand was caressing up and down Reichert's length, making the detective gasp and arch up at him. He tangled his fingers in the thick dark hair between Reichert's legs, trailing them up Reichert's belly, and Reichert squirmed again with impatience. He was already throbbing and growing hard; when he ran his own hand between Silvertree's legs he could feel that the officer was aroused as well, and fully erect. Reichert grasped him lightly and moaned again, spreading his knees as much as he could and shifting back and forth.

Silvertree's breath came fast and hard at his neck; he dropped his head and trailed his tongue over Reichert's nipple, earning a gasp. He closed his mouth around it and sucked hard, making Reichert whimper. He lifted his head to run his tongue behind his ear, then to his mouth again; they kissed briefly before he pulled away and pushed himself up slightly. He dug his fingers into the back of Reichert's neck, making the detective stiffen and then relax again; he responded by awkwardly pushing himself over onto his side, then onto his belly, shifting uncomfortably beneath his companion and fumbling to get himself into position. His pants tangled around his knees, impeding him, yet his head was too hazy to care; he balanced on his elbows and fought against them, working them down to his ankles, his underwear still bunched around his thighs as he pushed himself up onto his knees and shifted several times to part his legs as much as he could. His breath came in short spurts, his mouth open and eyes glazed; he felt Silvertree move behind him, the officer throwing his leg over Reichert's hip to straddle him. Reichert arched his back and clung to the couch, listening to the sound of Silvertree spitting on his hand and rubbing himself; he tensed when the other man spat again and inserted his fingers into his anus, testing his readiness, yet almost immediately relaxed and loosened, opening up. Silvertree quickly pushed Reichert's underwear down to his knees and nudged his legs apart a bit more with his own knee, then leaned over him and slipped his hands over Reichert's thighs to keep him spread open. Reichert's eyes squeezed shut and he gritted his teeth, grunting softly as Silvertree pushed into him at last, and as soon as the other man's hips met his backside, his shaft fully embedded in Reichert's body, it was as if the wave of tension snapped, and he started shaking all over, gasping brokenly.

"Oh my God..." he whispered shakily.

Silvertree mouthed the back of his neck, then behind his ear; his teeth scored the lobe, and he clutched Reichert's thighs, pulling back slowly and then jerking forward. Reichert cried out loud, stiffening at the twinge of pain which shot through him; Silvertree pulled back, and then repeated the gesture, again, and again, each time jamming himself inside as deeply as he could go. Reichert whimpered and grasped the edges of the cushion to brace himself against the heavy thrusts even as his body shook, overwhelmed by pleasure. Silvertree swiveled his hips in such a way that he filled Reichert almost uncomfortably, urging himself deeper than even the detective was used to, yet he found that the sensation excited him like never before. He dropped his head to the cushion and splayed his legs so widely that his left knee slipped from the couch, and his leg would have fallen if it had not been for his pants still twisted around his ankles; he lay awkwardly like that and bit his lip, enduring Silvertree's now rapid pushing without complaint, tears starting to stream from his eyes as they moved, Silvertree's breath fanning hot and heavy over his neck.

Silvertree knelt upright now, gripping Reichert's hips and dropping his head forward, eyes shut and face flushed. His sac pressed against Reichert's backside, and he ran one hand down to squeeze at his penis, making the detective squirm. They rutted rapidly upon the couch, the springs creaking with their growing movements, bodies growing slick with sweat. Silvertree drew his hand back to grasp the hair on Reichert's head, fingers trailing over his scalp. Reichert gasped, mouth falling open; Silvertree began pulling his head back with each thrust, yanking on Reichert's hair as if he were riding a horse. The tears streamed down Reichert's face anew and he started to cry out with each motion, his voice husky and quivering. His body thrummed like a live wire; Silvertree yanked on his head, again, and again, drawing it back so harshly that Reichert's neck hurt and he coughed and gasped for air. His scalp tingled from the pain even as Silvertree heaved himself deeply inside him, his hips slapping against Reichert's buttocks. Silvertree grunted thickly with each push, and the smell of their sweat hung thick in the air. Reichert shut his eyes and trembled, a whimper rising in his throat. His fingers dug into the cushion; he would have buried his face against it, had he been able. Instead he lay and yelled out at the air as Silvertree rode atop him, head yanking back over and over as the officer filled him up, hot and engorged, again and again and again.

He didn't even know how long they lasted--it felt like forever, yet hardly any time at all--before Silvertree grunted, "Unhh," and squirted inside him. Reichert went stiff with a loud moan, head dropping to the couch when his partner let go of it; his tears dampened the fabric as his fingers dug into the sides, chest heaving and body trembling at the hot fluid which flooded within him. His muscles went lax and his legs sank, Silvertree's weight pressing him down; he lay limp and gasping as the officer panted over his neck, breath warm and heavy. They stayed like this for a moment or two after Silvertree's climax had died, trying to catch their breath. Reichert felt a warm dampness spreading out upon the couch beneath his hips, and very dimly hoped that the other man wouldn't mind the stain he'd left behind. Silvertree collapsed over him, his head next to Reichert's and his legs still thrown over the detective's, and they lay breathing heavily in relative silence. Reichert's head buzzed dizzily, yet he didn't care. His body still quivered from his release, which hadn't felt nearly so good in a long time.

He felt Silvertree's breath begin to slow, and realized there were no intentions of moving from the couch any time soon. For some reason, the thought of staying where he was didn't bother him much. He tried to accustom himself to the feeling of sleeping beneath someone; Silvertree's weight and build were much the same as his own, so it wasn't too difficult. He didn't even feel tense, or panicked, as the sensation had made him feel before, with others. In fact, sleepiness began to tug at his eyelids, and though he fought to remain awake, still trying to decide whether he should try to push himself up or not, the exhaustion won out and after a few more moments of thinking about what had just happened, he lapsed into a sleep so deep that nothing could disturb it.

* * * * *

Breath fanned over Reichert's ear, slow and rhythmic. He frowned in his sleep as he drew closer to consciousness, dragging himself out of a dream which he couldn't even remember, and he finally let his eyes drift open, frowning at first in confusion at the room which greeted him. He lay still for a few moments, trying to gain his bearings, before vague memories began to come back. He tilted his head just a bit. Silvertree was sprawled atop him, breathing against his ear, his legs draped over Reichert's and his hand clasped under Reichert's shoulder. Reichert could feel his penis pressing against him, soft and flaccid in sleep. He could also feel the cramp forming in his side, and winced slightly.

He slipped his hands beneath himself, and slowly pushed himself up, turning his torso to the side and easing his slumbering companion to the couch. Silvertree didn't even awaken as he sat up and carefully pulled his legs free, placing his feet on the floor. He let out his breath and sat there for a few moments, rubbing at his head and blinking groggily. He yawned, then made a face and at last pulled off his pants and underwear, tossing them toward the footstool. He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head to clear it before standing, having to hold onto the couch arm to keep his balance. He rubbed at the cramp in his side and stretched the tension out of his legs, then rubbed at his stiff neck. He looked over his shoulder at Silvertree but the officer had merely settled back the way he'd been left, still asleep. Reichert stumbled to the chair in the corner and pulled the afghan from it, draping it over him as he went by. Silvertree sighed and burrowed his head into the cushions.

Reichert made his way toward the bathroom, slipping inside and shutting the door behind him. He leaned over the sink for a few minutes, yet he didn't feel sick. He turned to the toilet and put up the lid and seat and sighed and shivered as he relieved himself. He then turned to the shower, twisting the handle and putting his hand under the spray, waiting for it to grow steaming hot before stepping in and pulling the door shut behind him. He stood for several moments, face upward, letting the water spray over his face and through his hair, before shaking his head and washing it over himself. He showered for a half hour, shivering at the feel of the water and thinking over what had happened last night.

He decided to try to not think about it too hard. Silvertree wasn't even awake; he had no clue how he would react. He tried to decide whether he should stay, or leave before he got up.

He turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel and rubbing himself down. He tied it around his hips and ran his fingers through his wet hair as he left the bathroom to seek out his clothes, sighing as he headed back up the hallway.

As he stepped into the den, he heard a thumping noise come from the dining room adjacent, and a woman's voice called out, "Joe? Is that you?"

Reichert froze in place. A short, slightly plump but still attractive woman entered the room, carrying a paper bag in her arms and talking as she came. "If you're up, I thought I'd make you some..."

She slowed to a stop as soon as she saw Reichert, and blinked. The two of them stared at each other in silence, and he was almost certain that his heart would thump right out of his throat.

After a moment the woman blinked again, and seemed to shake herself out of her surprise. "Hi," she said, with a mildly confused smile.

"Hi," Reichert just barely managed to say.

She stared at him again, then shook herself out of it once more, turning back to the dining room. "Is Joe awake?" she asked, setting the bag down on the table. "Because I thought I'd make him some coffee for a change, and maybe a muffin."

"He's..." Reichert had to follow her to the doorway, feeling absolutely foolish to be standing there in nothing but a bath towel as she started pulling things out of the bag--a can of coffee, a package of muffins, a container of butter and one of jam. "He's still sleeping," he finally said, and gestured vaguely toward the den. She craned her neck to look past him, spotted Silvertree on the couch, then returned to her rummaging. She flashed him a smile.

"He sleeps like a rock," she said, looking in the bag. "You could bang some cymbals over his head, and he still wouldn't wake up...now you see the need for coffee..."

"Uh..." Reichert paused, then took a tentative step into the room. He really wished that he'd had a chance to change into his clothes before now, though it was a little too late for that. When she lifted her head to give him a questioning look, he flushed. "I'm sorry, but...who...?"

"Oh." She blinked as if in surprise. "Joe didn't say anything?" When he shook his head she rolled her eyes. "Go figure. I'm Amy Tall Horse. Joe's my fiancé."

Reichert blinked this time, then gawked. "Fi...fiancé?" he echoed, nearly dropping his towel in his shock. He whirled to look over his shoulder at Silvertree's sleeping form, and could not believe how hot his face grew.

He's ENGAGED--? To a WOMAN--?

Amy coming up beside him nearly made him jump out of his skin. She gave him her disarming smile and held up her hands. "It's okay," she said. "It's not what it sounds like."

Reichert could only open and close his mouth, mortified. She looked down at his towel, then raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly, gesturing into the den.

"Want to get something?"

Reichert's face went red and he turned away from her and went into the den. He stooped beside the couch to retrieve his clothes, giving Silvertree a venomous glare as he did so, yet the officer merely continued sleeping. He stepped into the bathroom to change, jamming the towel back on its bar before coming out and heading to the kitchen entrance to watch as Amy started setting up the coffeepot.

"Ah--" he said, and waved between her and the den. "He never said anything about a fiancée."

"That's Joe for you," she said. She glanced at him curiously. "What's your name--?"

Reichert paused, caught offguard by the question, then flushed. "Reich...Justin Reichert. I'm...with the city police department."

"A cop?" She turned around now, holding the coffee can in her hands, and gave a huge smile, perfect teeth showing. She turned back to the coffeepot and started scooping the grounds into it. "Talk about a catch..."

He simply stood in his place, fidgeting slightly as she turned the coffeepot on, then trying to catch her attention once she was done. "Fiancé?" he prompted as soon as she turned to him once more, and she waved at the air as if it were no big matter.

"Oh, that...don't worry about it. I already know--kind of hard not to."

"So..." He still couldn't get his tongue to work properly, he was so flustered; he resorted to waving toward the den again. "He's really...?"

"You mean you couldn't tell?" She furrowed her brow. "After whatever you guys did?" When all that he could do was sputter in embarrassment she smiled again and waved at him. "It's okay. Joe told me a long time ago."

"Well, if he's..." Reichert didn't even bother saying the word "...then why are you...?"

She opened the fridge to pull out a bottle of water and opened it, leaning back against the counter and taking a drink while the coffee dripped. "It's just for looks," she explained. "You know how hard it must've been for you, right?"

Reichert paused, puzzled, then nodded.

"Here it's a little more complicated. No offense." She took another drink. "Pretty much, if any of the elders and family and such knew, it wouldn't be very good; they don't accept that very well here. He'd probably be disowned from the tribe, and lose his job, or at least lose a lot of respect in the community."

Reichert frowned. "So, you and he..."

"I've known Joe since we were kids," Amy said, poking at the coffeepot. "Our families thought we'd end up married anyway. I did try to get him," she said, with a grin, and took a sip. "But it didn't really work out that way. That's when he told me. Though I'd kind of figured it out on my own by then." A sip. "I thought, why not help him out, and save him some trouble, at least for now. He's a good cop, but they probably wouldn't focus on that if they knew. So..." She shrugged, tipping back the bottle. "...We got engaged--announced it to the families. And he does his own thing, and I'm helping out my friend, and nobody finds out."

Reichert's brow furrowed. "So you're just pretending you'll get married to him...?" When she nodded his confusion grew. "What about you then?"

She shrugged. "I'm kind of busy with my studies. I've never been big on dating anyway." She stuck out her tongue.

Reichert had to run his hands over his face. "And so, he's here...with me...and you're out buying him coffee? I don't get why you would do something like that."

"Because he's my friend." She tilted her head. "You wouldn't do something for your friend?"

"I have to admit," Reichert said, leaning against the doorcasing, "I don't know if I'd do something quite like that."

Her mouth twitched. "Then you don't have a friend like Joe." She leaned her elbows on the counter and looked at him. "So tell me--how was it?"

Reichert blinked, then his eyes goggled. "What--?"

Amy waved as if he were the most obtuse person in the world. "Oh come on! It! How was it? You guys wear each other out much...?"

Reichert felt the heat rising in his face again. "Like I'm going to go talking about that!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

Amy started laughing. "Oh, come on. Like you wouldn't talk about it with other guys."

"I wouldn't!" he insisted, feeling his ears grow warm now.

"Uh-huh, whatever." She smirked and took a drink. "It's not like you have anything to worry about, I'm pretty sure you're the first one."

"Huh...?" Reichert's brow furrowed again.

"First one," she echoed herself, with another drink.

"You mean he..."

She nodded. "Mm-hm."

Reichert stared at her for a moment, then frowned at the wall. "He didn't act like it," he said, and she pushed herself up and smirked again.

"So, he was the one in charge?" she said, and gave a short laugh. "For some reason I'm not surprised, though looking at you I would've pegged you as the one in charge."

Before Anybody Misses Us

The SUV was parked on the shoulder of the desolate road, no other traffic for miles. The woods loomed nearby, snowy and silent, and the vehicle was silent as well, its engine shut off, although it did move just slightly, as if something shook it.

Silvertree sat in the driver's seat, his eyes shut and his head tilted back, mouth slightly open. He panted, rhythmically moving as he sat, swaying just slightly. In the passenger seat sat Reichert, but he was bent over, his head at Silvertree's crotch. Silvertree's pants were unzipped and his shaft and testicles protruded, ringed with dark hair; Reichert mouthed these, sucking on the former and then on the latter, his tongue swirling and his jaws working. One of his hands rested on Silvertree's knee and the other he'd slipped beneath him to grasp at him in behind as the officer squeezed his buttocks together and released, squeezed and released, the best that he could do to thrust in the cramped space. His fingers tangled in Reichert's hair and he pressed the detective's head down with each small push, urging himself deeper into his throat. The vehicle rocked slightly with their restrained motions, the windows fogged up. They said nothing, though Silvertree's breath was coming harder, and he ground his teeth and moved a little faster, a slight strained sound escaping his throat.

He grasped Reichert's hair hard enough to sting, forcing his head down and pushing deeper. "Come on," he whispered at last, eyes shut tight. "Come on." Reichert pulled away from his penis and sucked at his sac instead, fingers digging into Silvertree's buttock. His lips caressed the hot skin and Silvertree shifted himself, teeth grinding together again. "Like that...that's good..." He alternated between caressing his partner's scalp, and digging his own fingers in, tugging and pushing. "Come on...come on...more than that...uh...come on...more...better than that...uh..." He pulled on the detective's hair and the other man lifted his head with a gasp; Silvertree promptly guided him back to his shaft, his breath now coming in quick hot spurts. "Come on...back to this...keep doing it..." Reichert closed his mouth around him once more and Silvertree dropped his head forward, gasping and straining; he clutched Reichert's head in both hands now, shoving into his mouth. "Come on...come on...more than that...keep doing it...uh...keep doing it...deeper...do better than that...come on...do better than that..." He shoved on his partner's head and tossed his own back again, gasping at the roof. "Come on now...uh...you can do better...unh, come on...more than that...unh...!"

His buttocks tightened and he felt the other cop tense in anticipation; yet he pulled on his hair again, drawing his head back. Reichert gasped and blinked, saliva trailing from his mouth; his own breath was coming fast, though in this position neither of them had been doing much to satisfy him. He kept blinking, brow furrowing in confusion when Silvertree reached to try to tuck himself back into his pants--difficult, considering that he was still erect--and fumbled with the zipper as he did so. He reached for the doorhandle.

"Joe...?" Reichert said, his voice dazed.

Silvertree jerked his thumb at the backseat. "Back there. See if you can climb back."

The detective furrowed his brow. "Huh...? In here?" he added, as soon as he must have realized what was meant. They kept their voices low, but a small bite entered his nonetheless. "Are you fucking crazy--?"

"Just do it," Silvertree said, now having to struggle with the door; it must have frozen shut a little. Reichert let out an exasperated sigh--Silvertree glanced back at him in time to see him roll his eyes, but he put his hand on the back of the seat and started clambering up anyway. The door at last popped open, nearly dumping Silvertree out; he cursed under his breath as he staggered to his feet, his breath forming plumes of steam in the frigid air. He slammed the door and opened the back one in time to see Reichert fumbling into the backseat, grimacing as he glanced over his shoulder.

"Do you have any idea what we're doing?" he muttered, trying to get situated in the small space.

Silvertree reached out to tap his right leg. "Put it up on the seat. I'll figure something out."

The detective made an irritated face at him but complied; he climbed onto the seat, on hands and knees, having to crawl forward toward the other door as Silvertree climbed in behind him. When he shut the door, they were pressed uncomfortably against each other; he knelt as best as he could and unzipped himself again. Reichert grasped onto the seat and snorted.

"Any suggestion what I'm supposed to do--?"

"Stop whining," Silvertree said, reaching under the detective to undo his belt, then tugging on his pants. Reichert dropped his head and shook it, muttering something under his breath, but shifted accordingly when Silvertree yanked the pants over his hips, struggling to pull them down; they had to fight a little bit just to do this, and it was several moments before he managed to get them down to his knees. Reichert then spread his legs as best as he could, which wasn't much; Silvertree looked at his tight buttocks, the dark tangle of hair just visible below them, and took a moment to reach his hand through to grasp his partner's penis and squeeze. Reichert gasped and stiffened before dropping his head again, fingers digging into the seat; Silvertree's mouth twitched and he rubbed at him a few times, feeling the half-flaccid shaft grow hard at his touch. He palmed his testicles and tangled his fingers in that thick hair, just long enough for the other cop to let out a soft moan, then pulled his hand back and grabbed his hips, moving forward on the seat. He felt the tremble in Reichert's muscles as he moved close, spreading him a little more and then grasping himself in his hand. He leaned to the side.

"You want me to spit on it? It's dried off some."

The detective shook his head, his breath coming hard.

Silvertree shrugged a little and leaned back. "Hold on, then."

Reichert's grip tightened on the seat. Silvertree pressed his hips to his backside, his shaft prodding against the detective's opening, which tensed and then went loose; Silvertree dug his fingers in and pushed. They both let out their breath as he slid up inside, and Reichert started shaking, but said nothing; he drew back, slipped his hands down Reichert's thighs as he leaned over his body, and then bucked hard, the detective biting off a yelp. A moment later they rocked back and forth rapidly, the seat creaking and the vehicle swaying slightly with their hurried motions. Their breath steamed the windows again as Silvertree stroked Reichert's thighs, reaching up and squeezing him, rubbing him a few times and hearing his soft whimpers. After a bit of this, he grew bored of it, and pushed himself up; he grasped the other cop's hair and started pulling on it, yanking his head back as he liked to do. Reichert gasped brokenly but didn't object; he never objected. Their brief exchange earlier had been the most argumentative that he ever got; but he never refused anything that Silvertree did to him. In fact, the officer pulled on his hair harder than he usually did, twisting the detective's head back at a painful angle and making him grimace and gasp brokenly, but there was still no complaint, and Silvertree started grunting softly as he pulled, slipping his hands down now to squeeze his lover's neck as he drove himself inside as hard as he could. Reichert's breath wheezed and he coughed whenever Silvertree's grip loosened--but neither of them complained. They shifted quickly, buttocks bunching and loosening, bunching and loosening, the air growing hot and damp around them.

Silvertree dug his fingers into Reichert's windpipe, listening to the broken gasping sound that he let out, then let go of his neck at last. Reichert coughed weakly, shaking again; Silvertree had to duck his head just in time to keep from hitting it against the roof of the vehicle, and cursed to himself again, fingernails now digging into Reichert's shoulders. He rather wished that they could be unclothed, but knew that it was too risky and inconvenient, way out here. Their clothing stuck to them as they picked up speed, and Reichert's arms at last gave out; they sank to the seat, and Silvertree took the opportunity to begin thrusting at him swift and hard, propelling himself with his knees. His partner tensed and moaned into the seat; Silvertree pressed against him and slid his hands down over his groin, again tangling in the thick hair trailing down from his belly and around his shaft, which itself strained against the cushion. Reichert started tensing, muscles growing tight.

"Come on--come on--" Silvertree whispered urgently, eyes shutting and hips moving faster. His buttocks tightened and he pressed against the door with his feet, driving himself forward. "Come on--come on--!"

"Joe!" Reichert cried into the seat, his own eyes shut tight and tears escaping them.

Silvertree grunted with one last heave and then halted, letting out a gasp when his fluid finally spurted out of him and into his partner. Reichert's buttocks quivered against him and he burrowed his face against the cushion, moaning again; Silvertree felt a hot wetness leaking over his hands and the seat. They hadn't thought about that, but he decided not to care about it now. He sank down over the detective instead, and they both lay there gasping for breath, trying to regain their strength in the cramped space of the backseat. The reek of their sweat hung thick in the air, but Silvertree took in great breaths of it, and slowly drew his hands out from beneath his lover. When he felt able to he braced himself against the back of the seat and slowly pushed himself up, pulling out--Reichert moaned once more--and wiping the back of his hand against his brow. He blinked blearily, still panting, and then reached down to nudge at the other cop's thigh.

"Come on," he murmured, voice exhausted; he picked up a loose cloth from the floor and wiped his hands. "Before anybody misses us."

He moved back to rest against the door, watching as Reichert slowly pulled himself upright, putting a hand against the opposite door as he pushed himself around to sit properly. His eyes were shaded and his face flushed; he gasped weakly, and they met each other's eyes just briefly, not really saying anything. Silvertree did take a moment to let his stare drift down to Reichert's exposed lap, and his mouth twitched faintly on seeing the glossy tangle of dark hair there; he reached out and gently rubbed his hand over the now-flaccid shaft between his legs, and Reichert gasped and stiffened before reaching out to shove his hand away, face flushing. Silvertree pulled away instead, and started tucking himself into his pants. He adjusted his underwear and then worked at the zipper, pulling it up as Reichert started struggling to pull up his own mussed pants, muttering under his breath.

"The next time could we at least just go at it in the woods?" he grumbled as he buckled his belt. "At least there's room there...cripes."

A faint smile came to Silvertree's face. He waited until the detective was done doing himself up before reaching back and popping open the door. "Better get back in the front...we have to get going."

Reichert said nothing in response, just stood to climb back over the seat. Silvertree got out, slammed the door, and then opened the driver's door. He waited a moment until Reichert was resituated, settling down in the passenger seat and smoothing out his wrinkled pants, making certain that his belt and fly were done up properly. Silvertree buckled himself in as the other cop did the same; they said nothing to each other now, and he started the engine, glancing in the mirror just to make sure that no one was coming before pulling out into the road. He turned the SUV around, and, still without any words, they headed back the way they'd come, staring straight ahead as if nothing had happened.

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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.