Aloha (Monk, Stottlemeyer/Disher, NC-17)
Title: Aloha
By: daasgrrl
Pairing: Stottlemeyer/Disher
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 4,200
Beta: Many thanks to evila_elf for stepping bravely into the fray, fandom or no fandom.
Summary: (Another) post-ep to Mr. Monk and the Bad Girlfriend. Yes, I am fixated on this episode.
Notes: When thsfuhqinsux said her birthday was coming up, I thought it was the perfect time to at least attempt that Stottlemeyer/Disher I’d always wanted to try, even though I’m still a little dubious about the whole concept *g*. But when canon hands you a broken heart coupled with a joint vacation to Hawai'i, it’s pretty much asking for it, wouldn’t you say? Originally I envisioned a few hundred words would just about cover it, but I was sadly mistaken. Therefore I’m a few days late, but… Happy Birthday, thsfuhqinsux! I’m only posting it here to start with, so if I’ve stuffed up on any of the characterization, please feel free to tell me so before I hit the comm :)
Aloha
Leland sat comfortably in a padded wicker chair, drink in hand, watching the sun set somewhere over the Pacific. The hotel bar was open-air, and at this hour it was crowded. Servers in brightly colored prints wove their way around their even more brightly colored clientèle, and a band around the other side of the pool was playing something low and lilting. The evening air was still balmy, and carried with it the scent of exotic blooms. It was beautiful; would have been close to perfect, except that he was watching the sunset alone. For the moment, even Randy had deserted him.
He glanced back toward the bar counter, where Randy was still engrossed in conversation with a young, dark-haired beauty. About twenty minutes ago, Randy had offered to go order himself and Leland another round, but had never quite made it back to the table. Now he and the woman both had drinks in front of them, and Randy appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. Leland wished him well. It was nice that at least someone was up to taking advantage of the romantic surroundings. As for him, he was just going to sit there. It was the last day of his holiday, and despite the pitilessly happy couples all around him he was going to do his best to enjoy it.
Another ten minutes, though, and he had had enough. His drink was finished, and the servers were still flying about so frantically that it would have been difficult to get a refill without leaving his table vulnerable to the newcomers still drifting in. He took another look at Randy, and decided not to bother him. It wasn't like he really felt like another tropical-themed dinner anyway. He'd order a club sandwich from room service and flip channels in peace.
As he stood up to leave, Randy looked over and caught his eye with an apologetic expression. His companion turned to look as well, and Leland felt compelled to make his way over to them.
"Captain?" Randy said, when he got within range. "Look, I'm really sorry about the drinks. I just got caught up talking to Tracy, here."
"Hi, Tracy," Leland said, smiling down at her briefly. She smiled back and gave him a small wave of acknowledgment, her dark eyes warm and welcoming.
"Tracy, this is... uh, Captain Stottlemeyer," Randy said, turning back to her. "He's my… well, he's my boss. It's a long story…" he trailed off awkwardly, obviously remembering exactly why he was here and who he was replacing. He glanced at Leland guiltily before putting his hand over hers. "Sorry, I guess I'd, uh... better go now."
"It's okay, Randy," Leland said quickly. "I can find my own dinner. You two stay a while, have fun."
"You sure?"
"Absolutely. Last day in paradise, you should enjoy it. Nice to meet you, Tracy."
"You too… Captain," she said, and giggled. Randy blushed. Leland clapped a parting hand on his shoulder and left them together.
***
The baseball game on ESPN was only at the bottom of the fifth when Leland heard the door open and close again. Even though the short corridor at the entryway meant that the door was out of Leland’s current line of sight, it could only be Randy.
Leland had already stripped down to T-shirt and sleeping shorts, and was propped up comfortably on the covers of his bed with the remote in hand. The TV itself was housed in a cabinet that stood on the opposite wall, facing the space between the double beds - thankfully, the hotel had managed to accommodate the change in room configuration upon arrival. The remains of Leland's dinner lay on a tray on the floor beside him.
He glanced up as Randy came into the main section of the room.
"You're back early," he said, noting Randy's subdued expression. "Thought I might not see you again until check-out time tomorrow."
"Nah," Randy waved a hand, as though shooing something away. "We just had dinner. The Luau Lounge. Good spareribs."
"Uh-huh. You going to be seeing her again?"
"Probably not," Randy said, in a way that advised Leland not to press him. "So how's the game going?"
"Yankees are up by two," Leland said. "Cleveland've got nothing."
Randy threw his wallet and keys on his nightstand, the one nearer the door. "They‘ve had a lousy season."
"Yeah."
After disappearing briefly into the bathroom, Randy changed into blue-striped pajama pants and an undershirt and made himself comfortable on his own bed. Leland handed him a beer from the six-pack he'd bought at the convenience store in the lobby, but kept the remote control for himself. They watched as Pettitte and Giambi led the Yankees in a season sweep against the Indians, trading the occasional remark about the game. After a week together, there wasn't all that much to say.
All in all, it had been a very different week from the one Leland had originally planned. Sometimes when he looked at Randy, he could still see hear the sound of the cuffs going onto Linda's wrists, the last glimpse of her face, imploring him. Whether her tears had been for herself or for what might have been between them, he could never be sure. And so instead of a week of walks along the white sand, slow dancing under the stars, and long candlelit dinners, there had been drinking to excess and table tennis and hamburgers with pineapple on the side. Which under other circumstances would have been a pretty good time, except that every passing woman with a flower in her hair had reminded him of her.
When the game was over, Leland switched off the TV and went to brush his teeth, returning to put the room service tray neatly outside the door. By the time he came back, Randy had made his own trip to the bathroom, and was already under the covers with the murder mystery he'd bought way back at the airport. The cover consisted of a lurid depiction of a gleaming knife dripping with overly red blood. Leland shook his head at the sight. As if they both didn't get enough of that kind of thing in their day jobs.
He passed the foot of Randy's bed on the way back to his own, and impulsively he came around the inside edge, and sat down. Randy looked up as the bed sank a little under Leland's weight.
"Captain?"
"So, is that any good?" Leland said, indicating the book.
"This?" Randy said, looking mildly surprised. "Oh, yeah, sure. The detective guy's an idiot, though, keeps missing everything the first time and coming back for another look. I bet Monk could have it figured it out in minutes."
"Probably." Leland smiled. "Listen, Randy. I just wanted to say… thank you. For coming down with me at such short notice. I probably would have canceled otherwise. Hell, I probably should have. God knows I haven't been fit for human company this week."
"Nah, it's been great," Randy said, gesturing awkwardly with the book in one hand. "Sun, sea, sand. Good food. Lots of… scenery."
Leland smiled at his boyish enthusiasm. "I'm glad one of us had a good time."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry about…"
"Don't be. I'm glad you were around."
It was true. Despite the way Randy occasionally talked in his sleep, and the ridiculous amounts of time he spent preening in the bathroom in the mornings, Leland had been grateful to have him there. In his own way, Randy had always been there when Leland had needed him - not just in a work sense, but in a personal one as well - giving him a place to stay after the divorce, and again now, giving up a week of leave to baby-sit him through this. Even though he was Randy's boss, Leland suspected that he probably owed Randy, more than the other way around.
He laid a grateful hand on Randy's arm before getting up and going back to his own bed. He wasn't in the mood for reading; he thought he'd just lie there for a while and organize his thoughts. After the day flight he intended to drop off his bags at home and then head straight into the office for a couple of hours. The station could well be a disaster area by now - he hadn't checked in once during the week, and Randy had been right here with him, so anything could have happened in the meantime. He'd needed the break after everything that had happened, and he'd taken it, but tomorrow was a whole new ball game. The Paulson murder case was still ongoing - he'd have to see if Lafayette had turned up any new leads, or whether he'd have to call Monk in late on this one; the quarterly budgets were due next week; and he really needed to see about getting another officer in to replace Mercer.
He was mentally reassigning Scanlan from Burglary to Homicide when he became aware that Randy was looking at him.
"Captain?"
"You can call me Leland. We're not at work, here." He'd said words to this effect to Randy at least twice a day since they had arrived, with no noticeable effect.
"But we'll be back there soon."
"Yeah. Flight's at nine. I've set the alarm for six so we can pack."
Randy just nodded, looking thoughtful. He seemed to be satisfied with the answer, but he didn't go back to reading. He just sat there, looking slightly past Leland.
"What?" Leland said at last.
"Nothing. I was just thinking about Tracy."
Leland made a small sound of wry amusement. "Yeah, I know how that goes. This didn't turn out anything like the romantic week I'd planned, either. I guess it just wasn't meant to be - for either of us."
Randy hesitated. "Oh, it wasn't like that. She was all… I mean…" He was blushing already. "I kind of… blew her off."
"You what? Why? She was gorgeous!"
"I just…" Randy had turned back to his book, but didn't seem like he was actually reading it. "I wanted to come back here and see how you were doing."
"I think I'm old enough to take care of myself," Leland said. "And then some," he added dryly.
Randy looked back up. He had clearly heard, but his serious expression didn't waver for an instant.
"I was thinking, anyway… that it might not be fair if I wasn't ever going to see her again," he said.
"Oh, I don't know. As long as you're both clear about it from the beginning, I don't see the harm. Maybe when I younger I might have worried more about that kind of thing, but…" and Leland had to look away for a moment, "… life's too short. You should just… take your happiness where you can find it."
"And… what happens in Kauai stays in Kauai, right?"
"Sure," Leland said, puzzled by Randy's intensity. "No harm in a little holiday romance. Why, do you think there's still time for you to go downstairs and find her again?"
"Not exactly," Randy said. "Captain… Leland… can I ask you a personal question?"
Leland looked at him curiously, and then shrugged. "Why not? I guess you've earned it. Although I thought you already knew everything there is to know.”
"You were with Karen for how long? Twenty years?"
"Yep," Leland said, not wanting to dwell on those memories for too long.
"And then… you know," Randy continued.
"Then Linda. It's okay, Randy. Really."
"Has there ever been anyone else?" Randy had given up all pretense of reading now, laying the book aside on the side table.
"Before Karen? Well of course, I did date during college, Randy, but nothing very serious. I wasn't… well, I wasn't Monk, if that's what you're asking." Leland smiled, but it quickly faded as he realized Randy's sense of humor had apparently gone into hiding. This wasn't Randy's usual enthusiastic, slightly awkward style of conversation - Randy's manner was all business. Leland was almost beginning to feel like a suspect of some kind. "Look, Randy, what is this about? What did you want to hear?"
Randy shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind."
"Is it something to do with Tracy?" God only knew what Randy had gotten himself into during the course of the evening.
"Not really. It's just…"
"Randy." Leland had been aiming for vaguely sympathetic, but instead seemed to have slid directly into exasperation.
"Okay. I'll tell you if you promise not to punch me."
"Why would I…?" Leland said, but Randy just shook his head stubbornly. "Fine. I promise. What is it?"
In response, Randy slid out from under the covers and padded over. He perched himself on the edge of Leland's bed as though worried it might collapse underneath him, and then bounced a couple of times as though confirming its solidity, his hands to either side of him. He coughed, twice, then cleared his throat. Leland rolled his eyes.
"Okay, look, maybe you just could tell me tomorrow."
Randy finally turned to look at him. He looked flushed and nervous. "But it'll be too late then."
"Too late for what?" Leland was seconds away from giving up on the guessing game and burying himself in the depths of his pillows when Randy leaned over and did the strangest thing he had ever done in the seven years Leland had known him. And knowing Randy, that was saying something.
"Randy, are you feeling all right?" he said, when Randy's mouth was no longer pressed against his. He put an instinctive hand to Randy's forehead. He felt very warm, but hardly feverish.
"'M fine," Randy said, not meeting Leland's eyes. "Sorry, I just… sorry."
He made as though to get up, but Leland grabbed him around one wrist and pulled him back down. He then took hold of the other wrist, forcing Randy to turn and face him.
"Why did you do that?"
For the first time, Randy looked slightly alarmed. He twisted slightly in Leland's grip. "You promised."
"I'm not going to hit you. I just want to… understand."
Randy shrugged. "We're going home tomorrow. I thought maybe, just once…" he caught Leland's eye and grimaced. "Like you said, no harm in a little holiday romance."
"Yeah, only I think you have me mixed up with somebody else. I thought you were thinking about Tracy."
"I was," Randy said quietly. "I was thinking about how much I really wanted to come back here."
The expression in Randy's eyes made something tighten in the pit of Leland's stomach. After the events of the past couple of weeks he thought he'd never see anyone, much less someone he actually cared about, look at him in that way again. Randy turned his face away and tried to get up again, but Leland held him fast, not because he was really any closer to understanding, but because he knew instinctively that he would find Randy's resignation on his desk within a week if he let him go.
"Randy… look, just humor me for a minute. Because I have to say I just don't know how these things work anymore. You do… like women."
"Yeah. Most of the time."
"And you do realize I'm your boss."
"Yeah," Randy said again, and then added with uncharacteristic venom, "I guess when you kept asking me to call you Leland all week you didn't really mean it, did you?"
Leland was taken aback for a moment. It was true that in many ways he thought of Randy as a friend, not a subordinate. They'd been through a lot together, both on the job and away from it. But there was always that part of him that never stopped feeling protective toward Randy, responsible for him. It wasn't like Randy couldn't take care of himself - he was a cop, for god's sake. He had a badge and a gun, and put his life on the line day after day. But Leland also knew that he had taken it for granted that he, Leland, would always be the one calling the shots.
The feel of Randy's mouth on his had only been unexpected, not unpleasant. Likewise, the sincerity of Randy's attraction was completely inexplicable, but nothing short of flattering, considering that lately Leland had been feeling every one of his forty-something years. No, the thing that had really unsettled Leland was that Randy had done something that big, that significant, without first running it past Leland for his approval.
"Randy, I'm sorry," he said, when he had managed to extract some order from his scattered thoughts. "Just… give me another minute."
He glanced up to see Randy watching him intently. He realized he was still holding Randy's arms loosely, the skin warm and rough against his fingertips, and he tightened his grip briefly before letting Randy go. This time Randy made no move to leave.
Leland bowed his head as he continued to struggle with the situation, and his hands automatically went to press against his temples. He'd never understood why it was that taking charge of a crime scene or hostage situation came as easily as breathing, but dealing with relationships, with people who actually cared about him, could be so damn difficult. He cared about Randy, he trusted him, and the thought of getting to know him a little better was… intriguing. Weird, but intriguing. Even just knowing that Randy wanted him in that way had soothed his bruised heart and ego more than he really wanted to admit. And he remembered what Randy had said when Leland had thought he was still talking about Tracy, about "not seeing her ever again". It meant that Randy wasn't asking for anything serious. Just the one night, and tomorrow they would go back to San Francisco and continue on as before, as though nothing had ever happened. At least in theory. It was almost crazy enough to work.
Finally, Leland looked back up at Randy, taking in a deep breath. Then he reached a hand to Randy's chin, drawing his face closer. This time he paid more attention; to the tang of mouthwash on Randy's breath, the softness of Randy's lips, the small gasp of surprise he made as Leland pressed a little further against him. When Leland broke the kiss, his mouth felt suddenly dry, and he licked his lips to moisten them.
"What happens in Kauai, stays in Kauai, right?" he said gruffly, returning Randy's words to him. Randy, nodded, his eyes wide, and Leland pulled him a little closer. "Okay then," he said.
It felt completely unreal, and at the same time the most natural thing in the world. Leland thought briefly of Karen, and how even at her most loving she had always teased him for being so very staid, so conventional. And maybe it was still true in all the ways that counted. But his world had been turned completely upside-down since she left, and surely Randy was no worse for him than a woman capable of cold-blooded murder. Although he realized it would probably be better not to share this with Randy at this point. Instead he lay back on the bed, pulling Randy down with him for another kiss, and then released him, letting him take the lead.
Randy started slowly, cautiously, first stripping off the undershirt he was wearing, and then tugging at Leland's T-shirt as Leland lifted up to let him remove it. Then Randy lay back down, ending up in a half-sprawl on top of Leland. Leland spent a long time just kissing him, one hand buried in Randy's hair, the other stroking along his back, their bodies brushing against each other softly, chest to chest, skin to skin. Strange as the situation was, Leland could only conclude that the doing was a lot easier and certainly a lot more pleasant than the thinking about it had been.
As Randy grew more relaxed he also became progressively nosier, beginning with murmurs against Leland's mouth, progressing to soft moans as their bodies continued to press against each other, growing louder as Leland began to thrust up a little against him. Finally, Randy got up off the bed and pulled Leland into a sitting position on the edge of it, so his bare feet were resting on the floor. Leland's erection lifted the fabric of his sleeping shorts almost comically, but not for long as Randy helped him take them off.
Then Randy's mouth was on him, reducing Randy to silence at last, but now Leland was making up for it as he groaned and muttered broken words of encouragement. One hand clutched at the bedcovers while the other tensed and relaxed on one of Randy's bare shoulders. Occasionally he glanced down, and the sight of Randy on his knees sent a fresh shock of unnamed desire rippling through him.
"God, Randy," he said, but even as his hands tightened again, Randy was pulling away from him, until he was standing in the space between their beds. There Randy matter-of-factly removed the rest of his clothing before pulling Leland to his feet. Their mouths met again as they began to explore each other in earnest. It was intoxicating, the faint smell of aftershave that still lingered on Randy's skin, the hard insistent heat of him. Leland felt slightly self-conscious beside Randy's leanly-muscled body, but he put it out of his mind and simply enjoyed the feel of it against him, so different from what he was used to, and yet so very familiar.
He reached down and touched Randy, tentatively, the first time he had laid a hand on any man's erection save his own. If Randy had thought Leland had had his own double life hidden away, he was sadly mistaken, but Leland knew the kind of thing he liked himself, and saw no reason it wouldn't work for Randy as well. As his hand wrapped around Randy's shaft, Randy stopped kissing him for a moment and just leaned against his shoulder, suddenly still. Leland began to stroke him, long and gentle, and for some reason he was reminded of the grip of his Beretta, the way it fit in his hand just so, the weight and reassurance of it. Randy shivered as his strokes became shorter, firmer, and his breath was warm against the side of Leland's neck.
Then he was being pulled down onto Randy's bed, and Randy was reaching for him again, and then everything became a blur of hands and skin and sweat. He was grinding himself against Randy now, urgently, and Randy was stroking him, stroking them together.
"Leland," Randy said breathlessly, his eyes dark and wide, and Leland realized then how much he needed Randy, and always had. Whatever they might call each other.
"Yes," Leland could only whisper, before all his words were taken from him.
***
It was almost seven o'clock in the morning, and Leland sat on his rumpled bed, fully dressed, still waiting for Randy to emerge from the bathroom. The suitcases were packed and standing by the door, and he had just finished a last-minute check of cupboards and drawers to make sure they hadn't left anything behind. Meanwhile, the sounds of brushing and rinsing had stopped, but it could still be some time before Randy made his way through all his mysterious grooming rituals.
It felt good to be going home, back to his corner of the world, where things usually made sense if you investigated them long and closely enough. Over the past week he'd mostly come to terms with the fact that Linda was gone, as was the ring he had been planning to give her, but he still had his job, and his health, and Randy by his side. Eventually, anyway. He glanced at his watch, and sighed.
Last night, afterward, they had taken showers and eventually gone back to sleep in their separate beds, just like before. Leland had been a little worried about what the morning would bring, but Randy had seemed much the same as always, almost determinedly so, and the worry had slowly lifted. It was going to be all right.
Although when Randy finally emerged, in white T-shirt and jeans, he looked troubled. He stowed the last of his personal stuff in his bags, and then turned to Leland.
"Do you think we'll have time to have breakfast at the airport?" he said, but didn't wait for Leland's answer. "I'm starving. Except I'm not sure what I want. Pancakes would be good, but I had those yesterday. Maybe waffles. But then they're going to have food on the plane, so maybe I should wait until I see what they have and get something else later if it's not enough. What do you think?"
Leland shook his head, but he was smiling. He raised his hand, hesitated, then placed it firmly on Randy's shoulder. "Come on, Randy. We've got a plane to catch."
"Right,” Randy said decisively. “Maybe just coffee, then."
Yes, it was going to be all right. Leland brushed past Randy to pick up his suitcase, then slung his gym bag over his shoulder and headed for the door, secure in the knowledge that, as ever, Randy would not be far behind.