If you liked this, please tell me. nicxf@softhome.net
Spoilers: Wanted Dead or Alive, Homicide.com, Truth Will Out and Zen & the Art of Murder
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they belong to NBC, Baltimore Pictures and a whole bunch of other people.
Summary: Tim Bayliss has had a rough time lately, a certain bounty hunter makes him feel better.
Comments: Thanks to Amy for beta, being there and everything; this is for her. Additional beta by Orithain and her big comma. This story came about after watching the episode Wanted Dead or Alive. I knew right away that I had to slash Timmy with that delectable bounty hunter Dennis Knoll.
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Second Chance - by Nicole S.
(3/99)
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Tim Bayliss turned away from the Waterfront, where his colleagues were enjoying a drink together, and walked down the street. He didn't want to be around them around right now, slapping him on the back, telling him that it was okay he had killed a man, buying him drinks to make him feel better. He wanted to be alone. It was cold and he turned up his collar, tears welling up in his eyes as he faced the wind.
The past few weeks had not been easy for Tim. He was outed, he was stood up for a date, threatened with having his *faggot ass kicked*, deleted his website that he had worked so hard on, killed a man and gave up his faith. It felt like someone had punched him in the gut as he reflected on each item one by one. He walked, shoulders hunched forward, eyes fixed on the sidewalk, not caring where it led him.
His insides had quivered and he had broken out in a sweat when he had hit the *delete* key and obliterated his website from cyberspace forever. //How did this happen? How did it come to this?// he thought to himself. He remembered biting the inside of his lip to keep from screaming before he stood to leave. Tim had left the stationhouse that evening amidst the stares and glares of the uniformed officers. He had kept his head held high, seeming not to care, walking right past them and out the front door. He recalled telling Gee how he wouldn't delete it, that it was his freedom of expression, his civil liberty. What a crock of shit, there was no freedom of expression. Expression meant exposing yourself, leading only to conflict.
Tim stopped and drew in a shaky breath before continuing; the mental imagery was almost too much to bear. He tried to find peace as he walked, concentrating on his steps, trying not to think of all that had happened. It didn't work.
When he tried to sleep the night that he obliterated his website with one key stroke, he lay in bed, his eyes unable to close. As now, the events turned and twisted in his mind. He had tried to see their side, to understand why his sexuality threatened them. He had tried to feel sorry for them because they were ignorant and full of fear. He couldn't do it; he could not see the good in anything or anyone that day. Everything held a bitter taste that magnified his misery even more.
He thought of Fisk and his reaction to Tim coming to visit him at his squad. Tim had caught all the vibes Roger threw at him at that crime scene, flashing him that smile, looking at him from under his eyelashes. Later at Gay '90's, he had seen him, all buff, sporting two earrings, flashing him that smile again. A part of him had wanted to take Roger home that night and explore his body with his tongue, but he didn't dare suggest such things. He had been with men and fooled around a little, but he hadn't *been* with a man and was nervous about suggesting anything. He couldn't just take someone home and have sex with him; it wasn't something Tim did.
When Roger had stood him up for dinner, he had given him the benefit of the doubt, made up a thousand excuses for him. He had tossed and turned that night as well, bad thoughts nagging at him, making the pit of his stomach ache. He had known that he had been stood up, but he had to confront Roger and find out what had happened. When Roger had told him that if Tim didn't leave him alone, he'd *kick his faggot ass*, he left the stationhouse, walked to his car and sat there for the longest time. The cheeks of his face had felt as if they had been slapped repeatedly. Tim hadn't known what to do, so he went back to work and tried to get on with the rest of his day.
But today, today was the kicker. Today he had killed a man who was clearly insane. A man that had no reason to point and fire that gun at him. This man had killed Roshi Felder for giving him a spoon, for godsakes! Gee and Lewis told him it was the right thing to do; the counselor told him it was the right thing to do; it didn't help matters any. The point was that he had killed a man, a man innocent of his wrongdoings because he was crazy and not responsible for his actions.
The counselor told him that he shouldn't make excuses for Larry Moss, that if it hadn't been James Felder, someone else would have pissed him off, and the outcome would have been the same. Larry Moss had been a ticking time-bomb; it was just a matter of time before he snapped.
Tim stopped again as he saw Larry Moss' face before him, full of rage and confusion. He shut his eyes for a second before continuing, eyes still down, counting the lines in the sidewalk. Maybe the counselor was right, maybe he was being too hard on himself. Still, Larry Moss had been a human being, a living creature that was alive no more.
His faith, the one thing that had kept him calm, kept him sane in his insane job, was now gone. He had no religion anymore. At the split second he pulled the trigger, he had ceased to be a Buddhist. He saw no choice in the matter; he could not be a man of peace and kill at the same time. It was either one or the other; Tim chose the other. He was going to be a cop.
Tim sighed then groaned out loud. He didn't want to think about any of this anymore. He had tortured himself for weeks and saw no end to the relentless images assaulting him, not only in his dreams, but also when his mind wandered for a second. He wished he could make it all go away.
He walked some more; the wind had died down and a light drizzle had begun to fall, covering him with a fine mist. He realized he had been walking for some time, turning here and there, not really knowing or caring, where he was going. He stopped and looked up at the street signs to get his bearings. He knew this corner; there was a lounge a block west of here. A gay lounge.
Tim made his way down the street until he was in front of the lounge. He stood outside the front door for a moment. This wasn't a club with pounding music and lights; this was a subtle affair, with large, comfy chairs and small tables for intimate conversations.
He licked his lips; he really wanted a drink right now...a large one.
//Don't go there, Timmy.//
He recalled how he had told Lewis that beer wasn't the answer. //Hypocrite.// Tim sighed. //That was then, this is now.// The rain was starting to fall harder now, attempting to soak him through his coat, prompting him to go inside, just to keep from getting wetter.
//I wandered here on my own, it must mean...*something*.//
Tim went in the lounge and sat at the mahogany bar with its shiny brass railing. He brushed the rain off of his coat as he took it off and folded it over the stool beside him. He took his glasses off and wiped the water droplets off of them before returning them to his face, the bartender waiting for him.
"Pint and Glenlivet." He retrieved fifty dollars from his wallet and placed the bills on the bar. "Keep 'em coming."
Tim breathed in deeply as he waited for his refreshments to arrive. He caught his reflection in the mirror behind the bartender; he looked like crap. His hair was wet and stringy, face pale. Suddenly, he was very self-conscious, as if everyone were staring at him. His drinks arrived without ceremony.
He slammed the whiskey down and gulped the beer in record time before he went to the washroom. He managed to dry himself off pretty well, then straightened his tie and the lapels of his jacket. He went back to the same stool, noticing the population of the lounge was older, late 30s, early 40s, couples talking and laughing with each other. *Married* gay couples.
Tim nearly sneered but caught himself as he straddled the stool again and ordered another shot and beer. There was no use getting angry, he was just going to get a quiet buzz, go home and pass out. Something he hadn't done for a long, long time.
"I'm a weak man," he said into his second beer as he gulped the fine amber liquid. He thought more about what had happened in the last few weeks as he drank, the alcohol fueling his misery. He had just ordered his fifth round when a voice came from behind him.
"Hey, Bayliss."
Tim stiffened at the voice, panicking inside that someone had followed him here. He looked up at the mirror behind the bar and caught the reflection of the person who was talking to him. A frown crossed his face as he turned around.
"Hey, Knoll, whazzup? Don't tell me you're tailing someone in a place like this?" Tim looked at him with half closed eyes, drunken panic raging inside his head. Dennis Knoll was a nice guy for a bounty hunter, but Tim couldn't let his guard down.
Knoll laughed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, "No, actually, I come here once in awhile to unwind."
Tim checked him out, seeing his black dress pants and dark green shirt. He nodded and went back to his beer. Dennis sat on the vacant stool beside him.
"Y'all right, Detective Bayliss?" Dennis asked, his slight southern twang showing. "This place is a little high class for drunken cops."
Tim looked as if he was going to say something but didn't. Instead he slammed the rest of his beer down and ordered another. The bartender gave him a look then looked at Knoll, who waved him off.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"I think you've had enough, Bayliss."
"Who the fuck're you to tell me what the fuck I can and can't do?" Tim's words were slurring together, and he had a hard time focusing. The profanity coming from his mouth shocked him pleasantly.
"Well, I'm concerned, Timmy. It's not every day I see someone as calm, cool and collected as yourself go on a bender."
"Yeah right," Tim sneered. "Who sent you here? You gonna kick my ass for being a *fag*?"
Dennis knit his brows together, "No, why would I want to do that?" He leaned in close, genuine concern in his voice, "Did someone threaten you, Bayliss?"
"Like you don't know." Tim grabbed his coat off the stool beside him and stumbled out the door. Dennis watched him leave the bar, grabbed his own jacket, then followed him outside.
Tim hadn't gotten far; he was puking his guts out in the alleyway around the corner of the lounge. The rain had stopped, but a fog had rolled in, keeping the air and everything else damp. Dennis watched Tim throw up most of what he had drunk that night. He pursed his lips together and waited for him to finish before he put his hand on his arm to help him up.
Tim pulled his arm away as if Dennis' hand was on fire. "Leave me alone," he managed to croak.
"I'm not going to leave you in this condition, Bayliss."
"Why, so you can tell everyone how pathetic I am? How I cracked?" Tim wobbled to his feet, stumbled out of the alleyway and a few yards down the street before he stopped and rested against a wall. A few seconds later, he slumped to the wet concrete, head back against the wall, eyes closed.
Dennis came over and crouched beside him, "Tim, what happened? What are you talking about?"
Tim sighed and looked up at Dennis, who had a look of concern on his face. He still didn't let his guard down. "I had a very bad day."
Dennis laughed, "I guessed that." He looked at the misery on Tim's face; whatever happened today must have been devastating. He smiled again at the cop, whose face was a pallid green colour in the light from the street. "We should get you home. Where'd you park your car?"
"Walked." Tim moaned out loud as he thought of his car at the station and how he was going to have to cab it to work tomorrow.
Dennis helped Tim to his feet. "I'll give you a ride."
Tim looked at him warily but saw the sincerity still in his eyes. "Thanks," he mumbled.
"I can't let a fellow person in law enforcement sit here in the rain now, can I?" He led Tim to his truck, making sure he was securely fastened in the passenger side before getting into the driver's seat. He looked at Tim as he started his truck, resisting the urge to touch him again to reassure him that everything would be all right. They drove in silence to the address Tim gave him, save for the radio tuned to a classic rock station.
Dennis pulled up in front of the apartment block and turned to tell Tim they had arrived. Tim was asleep. His head was back against the rest, lips parted slightly letting out his breath, his forehead without the familiar furrows. Dennis shook his head as he got out of the truck and went around to the passenger side.
"Tim." He unfastened the seatbelt and shook the cop. "Tim, you're home."
Tim could only groan.
"C'mon, buddy, we're here." Dennis shook Tim violently to wake him.
"What...?"
"We're here, you're home."
"Yeah, good, thanks." Tim got out of the truck and stumbled towards his front door, dropping his keys in the wet grass out front.
Dennis stifled a laugh as he walked towards Tim, who was now crawling around on his hands and knees. Dennis swooped down and grabbed the keys, then hoisted Tim upright by his armpit. "Which apartment, Bayliss?"
"5C," he slurred.
Dennis held onto the drunken cop through the lobby and into the elevator. Tim was well on his way to passing out, and he didn't want him falling over and hurting himself. He dragged him down the hallway to apartment 5C and opened the door. He lay Tim as gently as he could on the couch. Suddenly, a hand was on his as he turned to leave.
"Hey, why dontcha stay?"
"I don't think that's a very good idea, Tim."
"Why not?"
"You're drunk, and I'm too much of a gentleman to take advantage of someone in your condition."
Tim snorted, "Bullshit."
"You're right, I ain't that much of a gentleman. But I do know when it's time to go home." He threw Tim's keys on the table and walked to the door. "Take care of yourself, Bayliss."
Tim was already asleep.
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The room was spinning and his ears were ringing. Tim tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't work. He managed to get one eye partway open but closed it abruptly at the sunlight assaulting it. He moaned as the ringing in his ears continued, harsh, shrill...like a telephone...//Wait, it *is* the phone.// With great effort, Tim reached over and picked up the phone.
"Lo."
"Bayliss, you gonna grace us with your presence today?"
//Oh no, it's Gee.// "I...uh...I'm not feeling very well, Gee."
"You don't sound so good, Bayliss. You got the flu?"
"Well...I..."
"Stay home today if you have the flu. Better yet, take the rest of the week off. I don't want you spreading it around here, making everyone else sick. You've got enough sick time to take a few days."
"Okay." Tim was in no mood to argue with Gee in this condition.
"I'll see you Monday, Bayliss." Then the phone disconnected.
"Bye," Tim said into dead air as he replaced the handset on the cradle. His hand reached up to caress his forehead, where it felt like someone was pounding on it with a hammer.
Parts of last night came trickling back to him as he realized he was on his couch, fully clothed, his shoes still on. He remembered going to the lounge, drinking vast quantities of alcohol, Dennis Knoll seeing him; the rest was a haze. He remembered throwing up...but nothing else.
Slowly he kicked off his shoes and tried to stand to go to the bedroom. He slumped to the floor; the room was still spinning. Painfully he crawled to the bedroom and took off his clothes while sitting on the floor. That crawl to the bedroom must have awakened his bladder because now he had to pee.
"Dammit!" he said out loud.
He crawled to the doorway of the bedroom and held on to the doorframe as he slowly stood up. He used the wall to support himself as he made his way to the bathroom. He ignored his reflection in the mirror as he relieved himself, hand forward to brace him against the wall. When he was done, he lumbered back to the bedroom, flopped onto the bed and passed out.
Tim spent the next two days in bed, getting up for glasses of water, dandelion tea, and large doses of golden seal. He was trying to purge the alcohol from his system, mad at himself for falling so hard so fast. He had decided that even though he would not keep Buddhism as a faith, he would keep the healthy lifestyle it had instilled in him.
The third morning, he was quite hungry, opting for some gluten-free toasted bread with soy spread, ignoring the sudden, strange craving for a greasy cheeseburger. He munched on his toast and thought some more about what happened the night he saw Dennis Knoll. They now had a secret between them, which didn't unnerve Tim as much as he thought it would.
When they were in Florida a few months ago to pick up that fugitive, he had never imagined the buff bounty hunter was gay. He kept ogling the women, commenting on their breasts, proud that he could spot the *natural* women a mile away. Tim sipped his tea and thought about how good looking Dennis was. He had checked him out briefly when they were waiting for their plane to leave Baltimore. He had a definite swagger, his body muscular, but not overly so. His hair was short, balding a little, but that was forgiven. His eyes were hazel and close set, beneath a heavy brow. His jaw was strong but not wide. His tattoo moved when his bicep flexed. His mouth was very nice; his smile could light a room; his lips looked soft. Not too bad at all.
He stopped eating as he thought of Dennis, his cheeks flaming to a blush. He was very good looking, and now Tim knew where he was a regular. He smirked into his tea as he took a sip and planned his evening.
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Tim wasn't dressed like a cop when he visited the lounge this time. He wore a cream sweater and khakis, hoping he looked okay. He was nervous this time around when he sat at the bar and ordered a drink.
"Pint and Glenlivet, sir?" The bartender asked.
"Um, no, not this time. Cranberry juice and soda, please."
The bartender remained expressionless as he turned to get his drink.
Tim looked into the mirror behind the bartender, trying to scope out the rest of the bar without turning his head. He couldn't see very much due to the bottles and other paraphernalia in the way. His heart was pounding and his hands were sweating as he scanned the room, hoping to see Dennis. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the bartender come back with his drink.
"Sir, three fifty."
"What? Oh, yeah, right." Tim gave the man a five and didn't notice that the bartender had kept the change.
He sat there for about an hour, nursing non-alcoholic beverages, before he decided to give up and try again tomorrow. Suddenly, a voice came from behind him.
"Hey, Bayliss, you here again?"
Tim's heart started beating fast as he turned around. "Yeah."
"So, whatcha forgetting this time?" Dennis smiled at him, prompting Tim to smile back.
"Nothing, I'm not drinking alcohol today."
"Well thank god for that. When I saw you sitting here, I was beginning to think that I'd have to drag you home again."
Tim's face went blank and turned pale. "Excuse me?"
"I took you home the other day."
Tim felt his face redden as he thought of Dennis Knoll, bounty hunter, babysitting his drunken ass. He had thought he had taken a cab home that night. His car was still at work, he didn't drive...
"You don't remember, do you?
"I...uh...no, I don't."
"C'mon, let's get a table so we can talk."
Tim followed Dennis to the back where they sat in a booth.
"So, you took me home?"
"Yeah, I drove you home and practically carried you up to your apartment. I left you on your couch."
Tim put his head in his hands; this was so embarrassing.
"Hey, Timmy, don't sweat it. It's not like I haven't seen a guy puke before. I've seen myself puke many times." Dennis gave a short laugh.
Tim raised his head, a look of horror on his face, "You...you saw me throw up?"
"Yep. If you were a girl, I would have held your hair back for you."
Tim laughed, realizing that Dennis didn't care what had happened. He was grateful for that. The waiter came and Dennis ordered a beer. They talked about the weather until Dennis got his drink, then he got a serious look on his face.
"I want to talk to you about something. You had indicated that someone threatened you. You asked me if I was going to kick your ass. Is everything okay?"
Tim took a deep breath, "Yeah, everything's fine."
Dennis shook his head, "No, it's not. You were clearly scared and pissed off that night I saw you."
"Really, everything's fine." Tim looked across the table into the hazel eyes of the bounty hunter. He knew that look; he had given it to suspects a million times when they lied to him. "Well, not *everything* is fine."
"Why don't you tell me about it." Dennis leaned forward, all his attention focused on Tim and what he was saying.
Tim told him everything, about his near death experience, which prompted his interest in Buddhism, his bisexuality, his website and the subsequent reaction of his peers. His eyes darkened and he wished he had ordered something stronger when he started telling him about Roger, the deletion of his website, and his confrontation with Larry Moss. When he finished, he looked down at the table, feeling better that he had told someone all this stuff that had been welling up inside him. At the same time, he felt maudlin at his screwed up life.
Dennis whistled. "You were right when you told me you were having a bad day."
Tim shrugged and ordered another cranberry and soda from a passing waiter. "Yeah, well, we all got our problems."
"That we do, my friend, that we do."
Tim looked at Dennis, his hazel eyes full of concern. He had spilled his guts, now it was time for Dennis to answer some questions.
"So, Dennis, you didn't tell me you were gay."
"No, I didn't, did I? I guess it never came up in conversation."
"What was all that looking at women's breasts down in Miami?"
"I like women too." Dennis grinned at him, "Just like you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. You know, women are soft and round, and they smell real nice."
Tim nodded.
"Men are hard and muscular and have a different smell, the opposite of women. I like variety. Know what I mean?"
Tim stared wide-eyed at Dennis, here was someone who felt exactly as he did. "Yeah, I know what you mean." He took a sip of his drink then asked Dennis a question that had been on his mind for months. "So, is that why you were coming on to Mike in Miami?"
Now it was Dennis' time to look shocked, "Come on to Mike? Giardello?"
"Yeah, you were pretty chummy by the end of the trip."
"Naw, it wasn't like that at all." Dennis leaned forward, his eyes glittering in the candlelight. "See, I've always wanted to be a cop. Moreso, I wanted to be a secret agent. You know that song "Secret Agent Man?" Well, as a kid, I used to sing that to myself as I rode my bike around trying to solve crimes in the neighbourhood. When I got older, I took the law enforcement courses and applied to the PD, as well as the FBI. Well, I passed all the academic courses, and the physical tests were a snap. The thing was, my hearing in my left ear isn't all that good. As a matter of fact, it's real bad. When I was a kid, my Daddy took us out to the woods to teach us how to shoot, and my little brother was a little anxious, and he fired his shotgun off when I was standing right beside him. It permanently damaged the little hairs in there that help you hear. There's nothing you can do to correct it. So now, I can hardly hear in that ear, and to be a cop, you gotta be able to hear."
Dennis pursed his lips together for a moment, looked away, then looked back up at Tim. "So when I was hanging on Agent Mike Giardello's every word, I wasn't trying to pick him up, I was trying to see what being an FBI agent was like." Dennis laughed, "And you know what? I'd rather do my job any day. Too many damn rules in the Bureau."
Tim laughed, "Those rules are there for a reason."
Dennis waved his hands to dismiss the comment, "Yeah, but all those rules get in the way sometimes. Prevents you from doing your job."
"Sometimes, that's true. It's too bad about your hearing."
"It's all right now. I like the job I have now."
"As long as you like what you do."
"Wouldn't change it for the world. Things have a way of working out, Tim."
Tim shrugged, "I guess so."
"Like you coming here, I'm glad you came back."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I mean, I got to know you a little bit when we went down south, and seeing you here the other night got me thinking of you."
"I've been thinking about you too."
"I guessed that." Dennis finished his beer and looked over at Tim, who was trying hard not to blush. "What are you thinking of, Tim?"
He looked across the table at the man who reminded him of a young Robert Duvall. "I..." He started laughing. "I was thinking about how good looking you are and how I was attracted to you from the start but didn't realize it until yesterday." Tim shook his head, "That sounds so dumb."
"No, it doesn't, Tim." Dennis reached over, put his hand over Tim's and ran his thumb across it. "I'm attracted to you too."
Tim sat there, stunned; he didn't know what to do. The last time he tried to start something, he got burned in the worst way. His reluctance must have shown on his face, because he found Dennis' hand suddenly cupping his chin and tilting his head up to meet his gaze.
"I'm not going to play games with you, Tim. I'm going to tell you up front exactly what I'm thinking. First thing, my boss knows what I am and is cool with it; women seem to be more understanding then men are when it comes to this kind of thing. Second, I'm not out where my clients are concerned. Now most of them do the same thing in prison as I do in my bedroom, except I call it making love, and they call it something else. However, them knowing would cause me more hassles then I need when I'm bringing them in. Thirdly..." Dennis smiled and lowered his voice, "Thirdly, I'd love to take you home and make love to you, Tim Bayliss. Then we could see where we wanted to go from there."
Tim was shocked, but pleasantly so. He swallowed hard, "I'd like that very much." He closed his eyes as Dennis leaned forward to kiss him; his lips were soft and he could taste the beer on his breath. It was a quick kiss, but Tim could still feel Dennis' lips pressed against his and his hand on his chin after they pulled away. His cock started to harden, and he nearly moaned out loud as it pressed against the fabric of his underwear.
"My place is closer, " Dennis said.
"Sure, sounds good."
Both men stood to leave, jackets draped over their fronts. They drove their respective cars a few miles to a middle-class neighbourhood with row houses. Dennis parked his truck in his driveway and waited for Tim to pull up to park on the street. They entered the townhouse, which was modest yet tastefully furnished. They threw their jackets on the couch.
Tim's heart was beating fast. He was so nervous and excited his stomach had twisted and turned all the way over here. He deliberately breathed slowly and tried to calm himself.
"Do you want anything, coffee, water?"
"No."
"Good."
Tim swore Dennis could probably hear and see his heart pounding in his chest as he moved in to kiss him. He wrapped his arms around the other man and leaned forward into his embrace, partly so he wouldn't fall to the floor, as his knees were feeling weak. His hand moved up to the back of Dennis' head; he could feel the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and couldn't resist caressing them for a minute. They kissed for what seemed like an eternity, tongues exploring each other's mouths, hands wandering over each other, caressing each other's backs. Tim could feel the bulge in Dennis' pants rub against his own, making him suddenly very hot.
Dennis broke away and looked him in the eye. "Come with me." He led Tim upstairs to the bedroom and put on a light in the corner to give them just enough illumination to see each other. They rejoined, arms around each other, kissing each other hungrily.
Tim could feel Dennis start to unbutton his pants, then his hands were up under his sweater, bringing it over his head. Tim's hands moved to unbutton the dark blue shirt Dennis was wearing, his hands rapidly flying over the buttons. Quickly, they removed each other's clothing and stood before each other, naked.
As Tim had suspected, Dennis had a beautiful body. He was tall and slim, yet muscular. His body was that of an athlete, strong and very well built, strong shoulders, long lean torso that tapered to slim waist and hips. His well-defined abs had a line of hair trailing down to the curls at his groin. His cock was thick and long, the head glistening with a spot of pre-come, and his balls hung heavily from his body. His ass was something to behold, in perfect shape and rounded. Long, muscular legs came down to end at perfectly proportioned feet.
Tim took his glasses off and laid them on the dresser before crossing the two steps to Dennis. He wrapped his arms around him and kissed him again, opening his mouth to allow the passage of Dennis' tongue. His hands roamed all over the body before him, down to cup and squeeze the tight ass, up to the broad shoulders, then back down to come around and skim the front. Their erections rubbed together, sending shock waves of passion through both men.
Dennis moved his mouth down from Tim's mouth to his neck, licking a trail to his chest where he sucked and bit a nipple. Tim arched into his touch, hardly noticing that he was being pushed back onto the bed. Suddenly, Dennis was straddling him, lapping his nipple with a practiced tongue. Tim's hands moved up to Dennis' nipples, pinching and teasing them with his fingers before moving lower, down his abdomen to his hard cock.
Tim hesitated for a second before stroking it with his hand, gaining a moan from the man still sucking on his nipple. He stroked again, this time making him wiggle his hips, almost trying to fuck his hand. Tim then grabbed both erections together in his hand and squeezed, making both of them moan out loud.
"How do you want it, Tim?" Dennis moved up to kiss Tim on the mouth, biting on his lower lip before pulling away.
"I don't know...I..." Tim's words were cut off by another searing kiss.
"I want you, Tim. I want to feel myself inside you. I want to make love to you."
"I'm not sure..."
"What?"
"I...I mean..." Tim drew away, sat up and crossed his arms in front of himself.
"What is it?"
"I've never...done this with a man before."
"Never done what? Been the bottom?"
"I've never had sex with a man before. I mean, I've kissed, I've fooled around, I've just never done *this* before."
Dennis reached out and caressed his arm. "Do you *want* to do this?"
"Yes, I do."
"Do you want to do this with *me*?"
"Very much so."
Dennis moved towards Tim and cupped his chin in his hand. He kissed Tim, his tongue sliding between his lips. He reached up, uncrossed Tim's arms and moved them so they were on his hips, fingers digging in slightly.
"I want you, Tim; I don't know what else to say."
"Yeah, I want you inside me, Dennis."
Dennis gave a short smile before he kissed Tim again, bringing him down to lie on the bed, spreading his legs so he could lie between them. He moved down Tim's body, nipping at the soft skin on his belly before nuzzling his face into the hair at his groin. His hands caressed the crease where leg met thigh, massaging the area, feeling Tim relax. He nuzzled Tim's cock with his chin before he lapped at the spot of pre-come that had formed at the tip with his tongue.
Tim's hands gripped the sheets as Dennis took him into his mouth, his talented tongue probing the slit before teasing the underside of the head. He was sweating and panting as he felt Dennis' hand go down between his legs, caressing his balls, then lower. Tim clenched and his body stiffened; he hadn't had anyone down that way before.
Dennis took his mouth off of Tim's cock and kissed his belly. "Relax, Tim, I'm not going to hurt you. This is going to feel incredibly good." He reached over to the side of the bed and got out a small plastic bottle of lubricant, which he set aside. He moved up to kiss Tim on the lips, rubbing his chest with his hands, trying to soothe his anxiety. Again he moved down to lick his nipples, bringing a moan from the detective. His hands wandered lower, lightly caressing his balls and down to rub the perineum. His mouth started to move down lower again until he was at Tim's hard cock. He nuzzled it again, teasing Tim with his movements, making him moan and writhe on the bed. He grabbed the small bottle of lubricant and coated his fingers with it. Very slowly, he started to rub the perineum as his mouth descended on Tim's cock. Tim began moaning instantly. Lower his hand went until his thumb pressed up against the puckered opening, pressure building, until it gained entrance.
Tim gasped and his eyes flew open; he had never felt anything like this before. He felt Dennis' thumb dig deeper and deeper inside him, and then it was gone. Tim moaned at the loss until another digit entered, stroking inside him. He bent his knees and spread his legs wider, wanting more of this. Suddenly, it felt as if a bolt of electricity passed through him; his body jerked and his balls felt like they would explode any minute.
"Oh, God!"
"You like that, hey, Timmy? That's your prostate, your g-spot."
"Whatever it's called," Tim panted. "you do that again and I'm going to come."
"Good."
Dennis inserted another finger into Tim, stretching him wider before adding a third. He wanted Tim to feel as little discomfort as possible. He looked down at the detective sprawled on the bed beneath him, a look of sheer ecstasy on his face. He stroked Tim's prostate again just as he brought his mouth down to suck on his cock, his tongue fluttering up the back.
Tim's eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a strangled cry as he came, nearly passing out from the pleasure. Stars floated before his eyes as he felt Dennis suck up his essence and lick him clean. Then there was a mouth on his, tongue probing forward, tasting himself on that tongue. He had never done this before, never felt this way before; he wanted more and he wanted it now. He grabbed Dennis' face and held it to his, forcing his tongue deep down the bounty hunter's throat. His hands wandered down to cup his ass, squeezing his firm cheeks.
"Oh, Timmy, I want you." Dennis dug his cock into Tim's thigh to emphasize his point. "C'mon, on your belly, it'll feel better for you." Dennis shoved all his pillows under Tim's hips to raise his ass high in the air. He put a towel on top to catch Tim's come. Tim's cock was hanging down on top of the pile, hardening with every moment that passed. Dennis reached over and got a condom out of his nightstand drawer and put it on. He squirted a generous amount of lube onto his hand and slicked himself up well before positioning himself behind Tim and pressing against his entrance.
Tim whimpered at the pain of something that big going into an orifice that small. He resisted at first, but then calmed himself and consciously relaxed his muscles, allowing the head to slowly pass through the tight ring of muscle. Slowly, he felt Dennis push into him, seeming to take forever to fully embed himself. Finally, Tim felt Dennis' balls rest against his ass, his cock quivering inside him.
Dennis was sweating, he had never taken so long to do this in his life, and he didn't know how much longer he could hang on. Tim's ass was so tight, so sweet, he wanted this so bad. He leaned over and rested his cheek on Tim's back, kissing it for a minute.
"Just a minute, Tim. I don't want this over too fast."
Tim could only groan, he felt great. His cock was throbbing again and dripping pre-come onto the towel.
A few minutes later, Dennis kissed the back of Tim's neck and started to move. He moved slowly, his hips moving from side to side, trying to widen the now slick hole. One arm snaked around to embrace the man below him, squeezing him tightly. He started to move a little faster, his knees digging into the mattress as he moved in and out of Tim's ass.
Tim felt Dennis grab onto his cock, taking the pre-come from the head and moving it around to lubricate it. He bit his lip and shut his eyes; Dennis was hitting his prostate with every stroke, and it felt so good, he now knew what nirvana was.
Faster still, Dennis moved, noticing Tim making a whimpering sound with every thrust. He too was moaning with every stroke; he wasn't going to last too much longer. He sat back on his knees and pounded into Tim's ass, one hand on his hip, the other stroking his cock. Dennis flew over the edge and nearly screamed when he came, his balls releasing their fluid out his cock and into the rubber. Tim wasn't far behind; one more pull on his cock and he did scream, coming all over Dennis' hand and onto the towel.
Tim felt Dennis collapse on top of him, breathing heavily, whimpering. He was paralyzed by his orgasm, lying there boneless, his body refusing to move. A short time later, Dennis pulled out and rolled to the side, letting the air back into Tim's lungs. Tim rolled to his side, leaving the pile of pillows in the middle. Dennis cleaned them both up, discarded the condom and piled the pillows back at the head of the bed. Both men reached for each other at the same time, snuggling together, kissing each other.
"Dennis, that was truly amazing."
Dennis smiled, his eyes showing satisfaction. "*You* were amazing, Tim." His hand reached up to caress Tim's flushed cheek as he moved in for yet another kiss, this one soft and gentle.
They lay there for awhile, not talking until Tim broke the ice. "So now what?"
"Now I ask you to stay the night and cook you breakfast in the morning if you do."
Tim laughed, "Really?"
"Yeah, unless *you* want to cook *me* breakfast, and in that case, I'd really like you to stay."
Tim laughed again before turning his head to look into the bounty hunter's eyes then took a deep breath, "I really like you Dennis."
"I like you too, Tim."
"Is this a one time thing, or not?"
"I'd like to spend time with you, if that's what you're asking."
"I don't want this to end when I walk out that door tomorrow morning."
Dennis grinned, "So you're staying?"
"Obviously."
"This isn't going to end, Tim, unless you want it to. I certainly don't want it to. I think this could be the start of something good."
"I think so too."
Dennis gave Tim a squeeze and kissed him on the forehead.
Tim lay with his head on Dennis Knoll's chest, feeling the fuzzy hair beneath his cheek. Tim's eyes started to close; a sated feeling had come over him, making him feel happy and good. He was slipping into a light sleep, the images of hate and misunderstanding gone from his mind. A smile crossed his face as he finally entered dreamland; he now had a new set of images to occupy his mind, ones of good feelings and friendship, and maybe a little bit of love.
THE END