STANDARD DISCLAIMERS: They ain't mine, and if their owner, Dick Wolf, knew what I was doing with `em, he'd probably have a coronary. No profits made, etc., etc., so hopefully he won't sue me when he recovers. This takes place sometime in the future at about the same time time as "Between the Sheets". This is just yet another frivolous little PWP I whipped out in my continued efforts to avoid all my responsibilities in the real world. This particular drabble was inspired by Richel Darrah's hot little Jack/Mike PWP, "Coming Clean". Much thanks and kudos to you, girl! Send comments to trig@yahoo.com. I love feedback of all kinds--even the "Ewww, that's gross!" kind. And just in case it hasn't already been made abundantly clear, this is *slash*. So, we're talking M/M NC-17 here. If that's not your dish, turn back now! Last warning...OK, here we go! ********************************************************* The Ties that Bind "Hey, don't you have court this morning?" "Uh, yeah." "And, you're wearing a turtleneck? Going for the casual look, Jack?" "Well, uhm, that's what I needed to talk to you about...you see, well..." "Jack! Are you blushing?" "No! Dammit, Jamie, will you just listen for a second?! This is serious!" "OK! OK! I'm listening." "Well, do you have...I mean, I know that women use...I was wondering if you used....Shit!" "Just spit it out, Jack." "Makeup. I need some makeup." "What?! Jack, I think you'd better start from the beginning." "Alright, alright. But, so help me, Jamie, if this goes beyond this room..." "My lips are sealed. Now, spill." * * * [Earlier that morning....] Jack sighed as he walked into the bedroom and spotted his lover's prone sleeping body. It looked like they were both going to be late again. Damn it, he'd shaken Mike awake twice already that morning, and been shoo'd away with protests of "I'm awake! I'm awake!"...only to return minutes later and find him exactly as he'd left him, fast asleep. "It's a good thing you look so gorgeous when you're asleep, pal, or this time I'd be using a bucket of ice cubes." Jack shook his head resignedly, then moved to his sleeping lover's side. "Hey, Mike! C'mon, dammit! Wake up!" He shook him roughly. "Huh?" Unfocused amber eyes blinked at him sleepily. "Yeah, yeah, I'm awake, I'm awake..." "No way. I'm not leaving you alone till I see you standing up. C'mon! Adam isn't nearly as tolerant as your captain." Mike moaned and flopped uncooperatively as Jack pushed him to a sitting position. And when Jack wrapped an arm around his waist to haul him to his feet, he deftly yanked him down such that Jack suddenly found himself trapped beneath a warm, tantalizing, very awake body. Green-gold eyes smiled down at him. "I said I was awake, Jack." That tiger-sharp smile. "Maybe this will convince you." Knowledgeable fingers slid expertly between the folds of Jack's robe and traced a spidery line up his inner thigh. It was a manoevre that never failed to send Jack's libido into full alert, a fact that Mike knew--and capitalized on--regularly. Jack had already begun to tilt into the touch invitingly before he returned to his senses. "No way!" He gripped Mike's wandering hand firmly, trying his best to sound deadly serious. "I've got a meeting with Adam, then court right after. I *can't* be late today." Mike glanced up at the bedside clock, still pinning Jack in place with his superior weight. "Well, if I give you a lift into work, we've got exactly twenty-two minutes. Ten minutes to get ready." He grinned and ran his thumbnail up Jack's inner thigh. "And twelve minutes to screw like bunnies." Even as Mike spoke, Jack could feel his body betraying him yet again. He scrambled to hold onto his rational mind for just a moment more. "No, Mike, I really can't--no, wait--look, I'll make you a deal!" he panted, trying to form words around Mike's too-skilled fingers. "Oh yeah? What kinda deal, Counselor?" A heated mouth sealed itself against Jack's neck, and Jack had to struggle to regain his train of thought. "If you let me get up, get dressed, and actually be on time this morning, I'll make it worth your while tonight." "Oh?" Mike grinned as he brushed Jack's belly in slow circles, enjoying the faint quiver in the smooth muscle as he did. "And, what, pray tell, could make up for spending the rest of the day with a hard-on?" Jack smiled slyly. "Well, I'll bet if you think real hard about it all day, you'll come up with something suitable, Detective." Bingo! The chameleon eyes melted back from tiger green to pensive amber as Mike reflected on the possibilities. Jack knew that would distract him--no doubt, there were already numerous libidinous scenarios playing themselves out behind that thoughtful smile. He fought down the impulse to lie back down and suggest that perhaps this offer should be taken up right now, and tore out of Mike's grip. "Hey! No fair!" Jack laughed as he ran into the washroom. "All's fair in love and war, Detective! I get the shower first!" He grinned at the grumbling echoing from the bedroom behind him, confident that Mike was awake now, and not likely to return to sleep anytime soon. He stepped under the shower, letting the cool rivulets drench out the fire Mike's skillful touch had begun to stoke, and started reviewing his arguments for the Langston case. The familiar thumps and bangs of Mike getting ready played in the background as Jack debated whether to call the mistress before the wife to the witness stand, and whether the jury would find it more appetizing for Jamie to cross examine the daughter instead of him. Suddenly, a gust of cool air blew in as the shower door slid back. Jack looked up into Mike's puzzled face. "Hey, Jack, there's something weird going on. I can't find any of my plaid ties. Have you seen them?" Uh oh. Jack felt a pit form at the bottom of his stomach as he remembered that Mike had gotten home late and horny last night--and he'd conveniently forgotten to tell him about his little spring cleaning spree yesterday afternoon. And now, Mike was looked for the damned ties. Shit. "I can't imagine Stella moving them anywhere else," Mike continued on, perplexed. "They've *always* been in the second drawer. And, besides, she hasn't come in to clean since Saturday." Finally, amber-gold eyes glanced up at him, and despite Jack's best efforts to look innocent, immediately began to harden in suspicion. "You wouldn't happen to know where they are? Would you, Jack?" Jack sighed, realizing that there was no graceful way out of this one. He rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, wondering if Mike was going to be as mad as he suspected. When he opened his eyes again, he was face to face with rapidly darkening eyes. Mike had stripped off his boxers and joined him in the shower--usually, a festive event, but by the look of that frown, not today. "Jack. Where the hell are my ties?" Jack considered shrugging it off, took in the quickly angering face before him, and reconsidered. Dismissiveness was likely to get him at least a week of the silent treatment--and no one could do the silent treatment as well as Mike Logan. No, this looked like a job for reasonable explanations, interspersed with liberal amounts of pleading. "Ok, Mike...but, you've got to promise to be reasonable about this. I want you to remember that it was all for the best, and--" "Where the hell are my fucking ties, Jack?" Jack sighed, then braced himself. So much for reasonable. "By now? Probably in the Salvation Army on 21st St." "**WHAT?!**" "Now, wait--Mike, before you freak out, you should know that I--Mike! Dammit!! Get back here, Mike! Oh, for godsakes..." Jack stumbled out of the shower, barely remembering to turn off the water and grab a towel as he hurried to follow Mike's dripping path. The trail of puddles led him back into the bedroom, where his lover was furiously rummaging through his clothes, oblivious to Jack's entreaties. "What the hell else did you throw away, huh Jack?! What *else* did you decide to get rid of behind my back?!" Carefully folded clothes were yanked out of the drawers and tossed haphazardly all over the floor--not a good sign, considering Mike's usual neatness. Jack felt a flicker of real worry when he realized that Mike was more than pissed off--he was all the way into furious. And, a furious Mike Logan was a terrifying thing, as most of the perps who'd crossed his path could testify to. He'd never thought that getting rid of those stupid ties would cause this much trouble. When the Salvation Army man came by asking for donations last night, Jack had simply taken the opportunity to get rid of them, along with several old winter jackets and a bag full of dress shirts. He *never* thought that Mike would take it this hard... `Oh, yes you did,' a small voice piped up annoyingly. `You knew damned well that he'd never get rid of them on his own...that he'd keep wearing them, no matter how much you hated them. And you took the first opportunity to get rid of them that you could.' Damn. He hated it when his conscience kicked in. Jack looked down at Mike, who was still throwing clothes around in a rage, dripping water onto the piles already on the floor. And, of course, now he remembered clearly Mike once telling him that his father had bought him his first plaid tie when he made detective. Wonderful. Why the hell didn't his mind ever supply him with the necessary information *before* he made an asshole out of himself? Gathering his wits, Jack pushed away the guilt clouding his mind, and contemplated how to best approach this. Mike wasn't likely to listen to reason right now, nor was he likely to let this go if Jack walked away and let him stew. No, something had to be done. And, like any good prosecutor, Jack knew when to compromise. "Mike. Mike?" He knelt next to his lover, persisting when Mike threw off his soothing touch. "Listen to me for a second, Mike. C'mon, please, baby...please." He finally managed to trap Mike's chin in his hands, forcing dark, pitch-coloured eyes to focus on him. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't think you'd take it this hard. Just please listen to me, Ok? If you're still pissed off at me after you listen, I'll accept that, but first just please hear what I have to say, Ok?" He didn't wait for any aquiescence before pressing on. "Last night, this guy showed up at the door a couple of hours before you got home, asking for donations of clothes--specifically dress clothes or winter clothes. I gave him a couple of my old jackets, a whole bunch of old shirts, and another bunch of old ties--including your ties. I'm sorry I didn't ask first--I didn't think you'd miss any of it. I should've asked--" "You're fucking right you should've," Mike grumbled, but Jack could already see the rage melting away. And now for the clincher. "And besides, I figured we could use it as an excuse to get more. Remember that plaid tie you liked at Bergstrom & Holtz on Fifth Ave last weekend?" "The one you said looked like one of Chloe's hairballs? The one that you threatened to burn if I bought? That one, Jack?" Jack winced. "Yeah, that one. I still think it looked like cat vomit, but if you like it, I'll buy it myself--and any other ones you want." The chameleon eyes had almost smoothed back to their calmer amber shades and Mike's lips quirked slightly. "Anything?" Jack grinned, feeling lightheaded with relief. "Anything in Bergstrom & Holtz that catches your fancy." Even as he promised this, though, Jack knew that he'd be able to still get his way. All he had to do was call Hans, the general manager of the store. The guy owed him a few favours, and would probably be more than willing to hide all his plaid stock that afternoon, safely out of view of one particular detective whose normally good taste strangely didn't extend to ties. He risked a kiss, and wasn't repulsed. "Ok?" Mike watched him steadily for a long moment, and Jack tried his hardest to hit the right combination of earnestness and contrition. It seemed to work, judging from the slow smile that spread across Mike's face a moment later. Grinning widely, dizzy at the thrill of danger averted, Jack leaned in for a kiss, capturing those plush lips. Mike let him drink of his mouth pliantly, light fingers trickling up Jack's kneeling thigh. Jack welcomed their touch eagerly-- --And then suddenly found himself flat on his back, trapped beneath Mike's weight and staring up into tiger-bright eyes for the second time that morning. "Mike! Baby, we can't--I'm gonna be late! Adam needs--" he cut himself off sharply with a gasp as deft hands slid unerringly up his thigh to cup his already swelling cock. "I don't give a crap what Adam needs, and in a second neither will you. And as for being late..." Mike pulled away the towel from Jack's hips roughly, hovering above Jack's cock hungrily. "You did say I could have *anything*, Jack..." Jack gasped out a laugh. "I meant in the damned store...oh, Jesus...Mike...oh, fuck it..." Giving in, Jack reached up and dragged Mike down onto him, devouring those lush lips even as they trembled in laughter. If Mike wanted to have sex, then they'd have sex--and Adam, Judge Mendez, and the rest of the world could just fucking wait. Jack shuddered langorously as too-agile fingers cupped and traced the length of him. With a long sigh, he pressed into Mike's touch eagerly, begging him to continue. Mike's chest vibrated against his in a chuckle as he complied. A strong, brash touch brushed across his inner thigh, cupping his testicles almost too tightly even as Mike's other hand traced indecipherable patterns along the supersensitized skin of his cock. Moaning, Jack pushed his heated groin roughly against Mike's, smiling when he heard a muffled groan in response. The teasing hands convulsed and became far more purposeful. That was one of the beauties of sex with Mike--he was usually easily distracted into doing whatever Jack wanted of him. Jack's smugness disappeared moments later though, when he was suddenly flipped from his back to his belly and those same strong, skilled hands began to roughly massage his back and buttocks. His amusement quickly hardened to desperate need as he felt Mike's wet, scorching mouth trace a path of fiery kisses down from just below his shoulder blade to the very base of his spine. He let out a startled gasp as sharp teeth sunk into one cheek briefly, leaving a wheal of fire that was then soothed by silken-soft lips. "M..Mike..." No answer except another bite-kiss on the opposite cheek. Jack jumped and shuddered, then rubbed sinuously against Mike's weight in an effort to make him speed things along. He thought he had succeeded when strong fingers parted his buttocks carefully--until that fiery mouth descended again--right there. "Oh, Christ!" Jack jumped and convulsed violently, barely holding back from the brink. The throaty chuckle that he barely heard through his delirium made it clear that Mike knew just how close he was. And just as he was gathering his breath to beg for a respite, the heated tongue brushed against him again. "Nn..no! Stop! Mike, I can't...I can't..." Jack panted, suddenly unable to remember how to form words, much less what exactly it was that he had been about to say, as familiar fingers invaded him again. He was so far gone that he barely recognized the slick lather of lubricant. But, he had no trouble recognizing the familiar hardness that next began to press into him, and welcomed the burning ectasy of its return with a joyous laugh. "What's so funny, Jack?" a lovingly familiar voice gritted next to his left ear, sharp teeth nipping his earlobe playfully even as Jack pushed up against the long, deep strokes. Incapable of words just then, Jack responded by clenching his inner muscles tightly against Mike's invading cock, drawing him in deeper. The soft breaths against his ear sharpened and sped up dramatically at that, and Jack rejoiced at the shudder he felt run through the long body pressed along him. Suddenly, strong arms pulled at him, yanking him up onto his knees, then back against Mike's heaving chest, until they were rocking together, Jack's knees on either side of Mike's, torsos pressed tightly together. Jack let his head fall back against Mike's broad shoulder, letting the other man's strength support his weight completely as they moved together fluidly Thus freed of even having to move his own body, Jack concentrated completely on the fiery waves crashing deep within him as Mike sheathed himself again and again deep inside him. He reached his arms behind himself to hang onto Mike's familiar frame, relishing the bulking strength of the muscles just beneath satin smooth skin. "Mine...All mine..." Jack didn't realize that he'd spoken aloud till he heard Mike's harsh, panting chuckle against his temple. "Yeah, Jack...I'm all yours..All--" he thrust roughly, sending ribbons of scalding ectasy radiating from Jack's groin. "--yours..." Mike tilted Jack's head forward and sank sharp teeth into the soft skin of his neck. Jack shuddered and arched helplessly and Mike's driving bulk, pinned as effectively as a butterfly to a board. The imagery made him giggle hysterically even as he felt the wave beginning its crest within him. "What the...hell's so...funny, Jack?" Mike gasped against his neck as he bit down again and again, alternating from one side to the next. Jack knew that he didn't expect an answer--Mike had long ago gotten used to his inane giggling fits during lovemaking, and he could feel his lover's smile against his tenderized skin. And then, when he was least expecting it, those strong, beloved hands slid down from his chest to grip his cock, pumping it, matching the raw staccato rhythm of their coupling. Jack cried hoarsely and convulsed once as he shattered, melting into bonelessness in Mike's grip, blissfully confident in his lover's ability to support them both as reality broke into shards around him. Through the haze of his ectasy, Jack felt the violent shudders overtake Mike's body as a familiar startled cry was muffled into his neck. They stayed locked together for long moments after, unwilling to peel apart just yet. Mike had fallen back to sit on his heels, and Jack rested limply in his lap, still impaled upon him until finally Mike slid out of him softly. Jack remained slack against him, though, head lolling loosely against his shoulder, refusing to return to reality just yet. He groaned a protest when Mike gently sought to dislodge him. "Not yet. Just a little longer, baby. Let me feel you just a little longer..." Jack begged. Soft kisses trailed along his neck and shoulder as Mike tightened his arms around his chest. Jack sighed, luxuriating in the warmth of his embrace, linking their hands together across his chest. If asked, he would've been hard pressed to decide what he preferred--the pinnacle of ectasy they never failed to drive each other to, or the pillowing gentleness of the moments afterwards. But, much as he wished, it couldn't last forever. Far too soon, he felt Mike shift his grip and move to stand, dragging Jack up with him. Jack remained stubbornly limp, forcing Mike to practically carry him and dump him on the bed. Jack pulled him down to sit next to him. The morning sunlight streaming through the window lit Mike's eyes a burnished gold as he smiled down at Jack. Still-wet strands of dark hair clung to his fair smooth skin. "I thought you were in a hurry." Jack blinked up at him, amazed that anyone could expect anything of him right just now. "Not anymore. Have to recover. Too old for this shit." Mike snorted incredulously. "Yeah, right. Jamie might buy that `I'm too old to walk up three flights of stairs for a transcript' crap, but I've seen you whip those kids downstairs at hoops every time they're dumb enough to let you play." Despite his words, his kiss was gentle and Jack felt himself begin to melt all over again beneath those plush lips. When they pulled away, he couldn't help but protest. "No way, Jack," Mike brushed away his hands, chuckling. "You may not be in a hurry anymore, but I've still gotta get to work." With that, he stood up and moved back towards the bathroom. Jack watched him go, annoyed and mildly puzzled. Since when was Mike ever in a rush to get to work? He was infamous throughout the NYDP for never making it in until well over an hour after he was supposed to be there, and it was common knowledge that no one ever booked a meeting with him in the morning if they expected him to show. His superiors were willing to tolerate it, along with a great deal else, as long as he kept clearing cases at the rate that he did. Mike stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and shaved in less than two minutes. In less than five, he was fully dressed. Jack watched with drowsy envy from the bed. How the hell did he *do* that? Mike sat on the bed next to his prone form again, now immaculately clad in one of his suits, not a hair out of place--no evidence at all of what he'd been doing to Jack less than ten minutes ago. And, Jack noted smugly, wearing a nice, conservative tie. Gentle hands brushed his cheek, then cupped his chin, tilting his head back and forth as golden eyes examined him carefully. "What?" Mike smiled slowly. "You'd better hurry up, Jack. You have court this morning, and you've still gotta call your friend Hans and get him to hide all the plaid ties for you." Jack started, contemplated denying everything, then realized it was futile. That was the problem with Mike--it was too damned easy to forget all about the razor sharp intelligence and keen observance beneath that blunt, brutish persona that Mike could project so completely. He looked up hesitantly, and was met with a cool, amused smile. "You're not mad?" Mike chuckled, then leaned down for another kiss--this one short and sharp. "Sometimes, you're too slick for your own good, Jack. Good thing I love you too damned much to get mad at you for more than a few minutes at a time." Then, he pulled away, leaving Jack moaning another protest. With another flashing grin, he was out the door. It was only when Jack heard the front door of the apartment open and close that reality returned with a vengeance. Jack glanced up at the bedside clock, then exploded out of bed, swearing loudly. Adam was going to skin him alive this time! Jack usually lingered a lot longer in the process of getting ready for the day as compared to Mike, but when properly inspired, he could nearly match his lover in speed. He finished his shower quickly, shaving under the torrent of water to save time, nearly four decades of practice having negated the need for a mirror. Thus, it wasn't until he was fully dressed and ready to comb his hair that Jack actually looked at himself the mirror... And saw the all-too-familiar darkening shadows trailing up his neck, well above the covering reach of his collar. And remembered sharp biting kisses along his neck while he drowned in passion. And suddenly began to understand Mike's smiling examination of his neck just before he rushed off in uncharacteristic hurry. To hide in the relatively safety of New York's morning traffic. "**SHIT!!**" * * * "Jack...Are you telling me that under that turtleneck..." "That's exactly what I'm saying! The bastard *knew* I had court this morning! How could he *do* this to me?!" "...And you want....concealer?..." "Yeah, whatever that skin-coloured stuff is called. I *can't* walk into Judge Mendez' court like this! So, I thought--Jamie, stop laughing! Dammit, Ross, this isn't fucking *funny*! Hey!! Where the hell are you going--**JAMIE**!!!" The End :) (March 1998) Tune in next time for Jack's ultimate revenge!