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Leftovers

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LEFTOVERS

 

“You know where I’ve always wanted to do it?

It was Thanksgiving evening. A combination of the holiday and a downpour that might have kept Noah himself inside had conspired to hold crime to a dull minimum; David had told his department to leave hours ago. Let someone enjoy the day, he’d thought, and he’d been ready to batten down the hatches and do his time. Then Katsuya had shown up at his office door bearing two huge tupperware containers courtesy of Mike Montoya’s wife, full of the dinner that Katsuya had snuck out of to come into work. It was more than halfway through the still-warm food that David sprung his question. Katsuya arched an eyebrow over the green bean casserole but stayed silent, so David went on. He was starting to smile. “I’ve always wanted to do it in an interrogation room.”

There was a slight choking noise from Katsuya across the desk. “No.”

David went on regardless of the answer. “Oh yes. Tell me you don’t think there’s something sexy about a two-way mirror.”

Katsuya pulled his own plate closer and set about studiously finishing his stuffing next. It wasn’t hard to read his body language but the bread-muffled clinical diagnosis of David’s sexual deviance sealed the general impression--Katsuya never talked about David’s sexual deviance unless he wanted something to do with it.

Five minutes later the door to the listening room was locked and David had Katsuya sitting on the interrogation room table, legs spread. There was always something about Katsuya in casual clothing that excited him, a slightly looser version of the man he loved. It once would have been weird to find jeans erotic, but David not now, when Katsuya wore a suit so well. David scraped fingernails across denim, up the inside of Katsuya’s thighs and the man shivered, spreading his legs wider.

“Are you sure that the door is locked?” Katsuya’s voice was not steady and he fell back onto an elbow with a groan as David cupped his groin and dug fingers in against resistant material. He tugged at the filling flesh beneath it and glanced up at their reflections in the wall-length mirror. “Yes. But would it be horrible if I wasn’t?”

“It is not exactly how I want Mike to remember me,” Katsuya breathed, a ghost of a laugh in the sound.

“Mike is safely fattened up by now and dozing in on his couch in front of football with half the department.” It was the truth, after all, and Katsuya knew it having brought Thanksgiving leftovers from the man’s house earlier. David had sent the other on-duty orphans home at midday and most of the station in general was working under the power of a skeleton crew--or else there was no way in hell David would have risked such a public encounter. But the guys on duty were on duty and the guys at the station numbered just enough to answer the phones and the doors, so here he and Katsuya were. Whoever had invented locks on doors should be giving a Nobel Prize. David sucked gently on Katsuya’s neck and made a purr low in his throat for the taste of his skin. What Katsuya didn’t know was that having a safe public encounter was not the reason he’d suggested the interrogation room.

“A deeply erotic thought,” Katsuya grinned, actually laughing, “thank you. I wonder if he has his hand down his pants.”

David joined in the laughter even though his hand and various other body parts were more than a little distracted. “Oh, most certainly. And you call me a deviant.” Katsuya wiggled down the table just enough to wrap his legs around David’s middle, trapping his hand between them.

“You certainly are, Detective.”

“It turns you on.”

Katsuya pushed himself up and folded his hands around David’s neck, kissing him softly before dropping his head and nipping at David’s nipple through his shirt. “It certainly does.” The sensation was a firework of nerves and David choked on the air in his lungs. His thumbs brushed hair from Katsuya’s temples and leaned to settle his lips against a waiting ear.

“Get off the table, Doctor.” His teeth caught at the soft lobe and tugged with enough force to elicit a moan along with psychical compliance. Katsuya slid off the edge of the table gracefully; it was bolted to the floor and held both their leaning weights easily. David fitted them together and ground his hips up in a slow circle, feeling the reactionary push-back of Katsuya’s body. There was a sigh of breath in his ear and fingers bit his shoulders to pull him closer.

“We left all that food in your office,” Katsuya gasped, his voice thick and dreamy as his hips bucked.

“Don’t worry,” David grinned, even though Katsuya had no way to see it. It was easy enough to hear in his words. “I plan on eating something else for my Thanksgiving feast.”

Katsuya was flipped belly-down onto the table, landing with his cheek on the wood and his legs spread. David reached under him to make quick work of his fly and pulled those jeans down only so far as to uncover his ass in two rough jerks. The underwear was one more tug and the pale, smooth skin of Katsuya’s ass gleamed in the overhead lights. “Watch.” David’s tone brooked no arguments. He stood behind Katsuya, unmoving, watching them both until Katsuya’s dark eyes looked up and met his in the mirror. “I want you to watch me eat you.” Katsuya’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he nodded. In the mirror his cheeks were flushed. David gave a single, wolfish grin and Katsuya shuddered as David slapped his rear. He did keep his eyes up, though, intent.

“Tell me how it feels,” David said as he sank to his knees behind the upturned globes of Katsuya’s exposed ass. Katsuya’s loafers slid slightly across worn linoleum as his legs widened their stance but he made a sound deep in his throat that they both knew was denial. David smacked his ass again, leaving a red handprint to match the first that was only slowly fading.

Katsuya groaned. “I can’t.”

David smiled and kissed the welt left of the impression of space between his fingers on Katsuya’s skin. “You will. Because I want to hear it. I want to know--” He pushed his tongue into the tight crease of Katsuya’s rear and licked from bottom to top, tasting that distinctly male musk, salty and yet with an ever-present cleanliness that was part of Katsuya, “--what my tongue does to you.”

Katsuya’s groan was deep and near a sob. He began to say David’s name, perhaps in more protest, but was silenced by the tongue that pushed forward, lapping into the cleft of his ass and flicked softly at the puckered hole it found. Under the wet tongue, Katsuya’s anus trembled and spasmed. His hips twitched. His whole body squirmed backward, seeking depth and friction. David provided it. Digging his fingers into Katsuya's ass, his thumbs slid inward and pried those firm hemispheres apart, giving himself room to do exactly what was being asked of him. “Tell me,” David gasped, pulling away after only a moment of slick penetration. He bit Katsuya’s ass lightly and then kissed the spot when Katsuya groaned. “Now. When I do this.” And David traced his tongue around the grasping, fluttering hole exposed by his thumbs.

Katsuya bit off his cry and David could feel the shakes of his head, but he did speak in a broken voice as David kept his tongue slowly revolving around his anus. “Tease…” he gasped, and David heard the table groan as Katsuya found the metal D-rings used to handcuff suspects in place and tugged hard on them. “I can’t stand how… you tease… ‘m hot… shimata--!”

The next time David bit, he bit in earnest and completely unconsciously as Katsuya slipped into Japanese. David never heard him speak the language that only accented his English every now and again when he drank too much. Katsuya never called home and spoke to anyone, he never sought out any nationals to converse with. Katsuya fought hard to be educated and… the same. To stand out by surrounding himself with other educated professionals.

David stabbed his tongue into Katsuya’s ass, forcing the tight ring open as reward for instructions followed. It clenched and spasmed against him and Katsuya moaned. “I’m burning,” he blurted out, words cracking on his tongue. “It feels like I am burning.” It was a good description and David thrust his tongue further inside of Katsuya, as deeply as he could go. He wiggled it inside of those tight confines and his own guts clenched with heat as Katsuya keened. David felt his back arch and reached around to trail fingers over Katsuya’s cock--it was hard as his own. Katsuya’s body jerked as if it had been touched with a hot brand instead of flesh and David pulled his hand back.

“Please,” came next. “David, please. I need you.”

David pulled away with a thick wet sound and licked his lips as he looked up and was met immediately with wide, intent eyes staring back at him from the mirror. Katusya was still looking. Those heavy-lidded brown eyes made his cock throb thickly, once, twice in time to his pulse and despite his order to Katsuya, David dropped his gaze and himself to place a soft, lingering kiss into the small of Katsuya's back. He was afraid that if he kept looking he’d come right then and there. His teeth scratched across lightly sweating skin. “I need you inside of me,” Katsuya groaned.

“More,” David rasped back.

“David! I can’t--I--please! I need you to make me come. I need to come!” The keen of the words was almost a scream, trapped deep in Katsuya’s throat, and David didn’t make him wait. The truth was that David couldn’t wait either. His need to be buried inside of Katsuya, that warm, comforting tightness that he knew so well, was almost overwhelming. The clutch of Katsuya's body had always been like a drug; it left him wanting more almost as soon as he’d pulled free, each and every time.

They never really bothered with condoms anymore--which spoke unintentional volumes about the state of their relationship--but force of habit had David carry one in his wallet all of the time. Condoms weren’t just for protection. They were handy, if say, you were having impromptu sex with your boyfriend in one of the interrogation rooms of the New York’s Finest. Rolling the condom down his cock made David trembled and hold himself with the other--the weight of Katsuya’s eyes on him still helped nothing and he had to slow down or risk coming too soon.

“Fill me up,” Katsuya whispered, and David’s eyes jerked up to meet his in the mirror like a fillings being drawn to a magnet. Katsuya’s fingers were actually through the D-rings of the table and he pulled at them, moving his body back against David’s. “Fuck me!”

It was so close to a demand that David’s insides clenched in a strange flush of reaction and he reached for Katsuya’s neck, twisting his latex-dirty fingers into dark strands to push his head down against the table. Katsuya grunted but didn’t resist and when David split him open with one hard thrust, Katsuya only cried out softly but his whole body tried to arch from the table with the force of the impact. David slumped close over Katsuya’s back with a groan pulled from the bottom of his balls. The sound was almost pain, a voice to how perfect Katsuya felt around him; his body clenched and trembled and gasped around David’s cock. “Thank you,” Katsuya moaned, the low, breathy words making David shudder, “more. Please more.”

The slide out almost to the tip was easy, but not as easy as the hard thrust back in that made Katsuya jump and catch his lip to stifle his holler. His body stiffened and then let go, melting down until his belly was flat against the table. The position not only caught at Katsuya’s cock with a rough jostle that he couldn’t bear to mind, but it gave him an angle that let David get as far inside of him as possible. David groaned as he nestled deep and instead of resuming the slow, heavy thrusts, he just sat for a moment and pumped his hips without truly moving at all. Katsuya gave a dry sob and shuddered underneath him.

Little by little he built the rhythm back up until he was holding Katsuya’s hips and Katsuya was crying out as David fucked into him again and again. The sturdy table shook but was held in place, perfect for the rough treatment. Their bodies tightened together and pushed each other on, closer and closer. David covered Katsuya’s mouth to silence the sounds he was making and Katsuya trembled and came apart, his breath wet on David’s palm. David looked up to the mirror and felt something deep in his gut wrench to see the shiny splatters fall beneath the table, between their legs. His entire body jerked and carried him forward into his own orgasm. His balls drew up and throbbed as he came, his fingers twitching on Katsuya’s skin. David leaned his forehead down against Katsuya’s neck and panted, fought for air through the last of his body’s shudderings.

Katsuya stirred before he did. All David wanted to do was stay there a little longer, sated and heavy and unwilling to go back to another day behind his desk. But Katsuya groaned and shifted himself to try and get away from the hard edge of the desk and David made himself stand through the protests of his body.

“We could just stay,” David murmured as Katsuya straightened his clothes. “The door’s locked.” Katsuya laughed and leaned in, sliding the condom free of David’s wilting cock and kissing him softly.

“A very romantic hostage situation,” he said, making the kiss linger.

Fingers slid up Katsuya's neck and nudged mussed strands back into place. “Hostages aren’t willing.”

The snort was quiet but amused and Katsuya stepped away from David. One hand palmed the evidence of their tryst discreetly while the other used long fingers to nudge his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Be that as it may. You have work to do.” Another slow kiss and Katsuya was unlocking the door and slipping out into the hallway. It latched quietly behind him. David stared at the handle for a count of thirty and then followed, his clothes back in order and only the faintest of color in his cheeks to betray him. He walked through the quiet hallway around to the other side of the interrogation room and pulled his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door.

Instead of heading back to his office, however, he slipped inside the room. In the corner sat the recording devices used for confessions and evidence. The red light was blinking steadily, just as David had left it earlier. He swallowed a smile and turned the machine off, pulling the small digital cassette from the camera. It fit snugly into his pocket.

If Katsuya was good, maybe he’d get it as a Christmas present.