Fic: Two Weeks
Well, people seemed upset by my Angel/Fisher fic, because I put him a bit OOC, but I felt he was within character parameters.
That fiasco in fic'ing is here...
Nevertheless, it might have helped if I mentioned it was only part 1... And I don't know how far this will go, because I'm falling in love with these two.
TITLE: Two Weeks
PAIRING: Nicholas Angel/Tony Fisher
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 2734
SUMMARY: It's been two weeks. What's changed?
A/N: Some kissing and whatnot, feels a bit PWP to me, but I was happy where I stopped. Feel free to break out the cricket bats now.
Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since the encounter, and not a word had passed between them.
Sergeant Fisher maintained a vigilant watch over his day planner, where he scribbled stealthily encrypted notes pertaining to Sergeant Angel, who had become quite the handful from an observatory vantage point.
Mostly because he was going out of his way to avoid Tony.
Still, they were forced to share the same room for daily briefings, which were far shorter than the amount of time it took to get everyone into the same room without a scrap breaking out between Wainwright and Angel, most likely with Danny and Cartwright hot on their heels. In that short space of time, Angel would put himself in the opposite corner, or place Danny in Tony’s line of sight, and had once even feigned the disturbingly unbecoming posture of sleeping while propped against Doris’s desk.
Tony wanted his eyes, though. He’d gotten his fill of arms and heels disappearing around corners, of the back of his head bobbing slowly as he walked away, and while he wasn’t quite fed up with Nicholas’s backside, he would have preferred awareness of its presence as Nicholas approached, rather than just salivating mentally as its owner fled.
Oftentimes he would find the memory of their encounter thrust into his consciousness, forcing him to excuse himself from public situations until he could get control of himself. Besides the whole rage-complex that Angel seemed to be fostering, and his disturbing grasp of the various uses for handcuffs, Tony had found himself dangerously enamored with Nicholas.
Dangerous in that he was letting it consume him, despite knowing Nicholas would never stand for it, nor would he be able to give him the sort of relationship he wanted. Besides being contra-natural, the whole business would get them ostracized from work as well as community, and then where would they be?
Yet nothing got Tony hard faster than watching Nicholas eat yogurt…
During such moments, Tony was sure Nicholas was teasing him. He had to be, what with the way his tongue curled around the spoon, drawing it slowly across his mouth, and rounding out the whole performance by licking the traces from his lips.
CHRIST, Nicholas…
He remembered something else as well, something Nicholas had told him that day two weeks prior, really the last thing he’d ever said to him:
“S’not me,” Nicholas murmurs, hastily buttoning his shirt and popping the collar as he leans over to grab his tie off the floor.
“Pardon?” Tony asks, zipping his fly and rattling his belt buckle as he refastens it tightly around his waist.
“This. All of this,” Nicholas snaps, though the usual edge isn’t there. “I’m not…this isn’t me, this isn’t what I’m like, and…This shouldn’t have happened, Sergeant.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone, obviously,” Tony replies softly, looking away from Nicholas’s gaze.
For a moment, Nicholas is motionless, his fingers still clutching at the fresh knot in his tie, a wounded, saddened look flashing across his face.
“Good. Then it never happened,” Nicholas says curtly, tugging on his shirt and at his pants to fix them before going for the door.
He pauses, one foot past the frame, the other still in the locker room, and turns to give Tony an appraising stare. He’s torn, confused…
And then he’s gone, leaving Tony to stare at the closed door, shirt hanging in one fist, the other empty but balled just as tightly.
Tony sat alone in his living room, caught up in what was quickly becoming his favorite book, with a half-empty bottle of Newcastle growing warm on the coffee table and the house pleasantly empty and silent for once. With his wife and kids on holiday to her parents’ house in Blackpool, Tony was finally able to get a quality read in; he’d just finished a book called Relentless by the same author, and he was itching to get through this one, too.
Where Danny watched action movies, Tony read crime-thrillers.
At first he didn’t hear the knock, thinking it was the cat destroying something irreplaceable yet again, but the second round was far more distinct, and Tony nearly leapt out of his skin as he rocketed out of his chair. The book hit the coffee table inches from the Newcastle as Tony jumped over the couch and made for the front door, shouting, “Alright, alright, I’m coming!”
He flung open the door, letting the cool night air rush in, the door almost fanning the chill inside. It was unusually cool for June, but Tony had a feeling that the icy atmosphere was augmented by the occupant of his stoop.
“Good evening, Sergeant,” Angel said softly, his hands buried in his pockets, shoulders hunched, wearing only a short-sleeved jumper and khakis.
“Evening,” Tony replied, trying to hide his preoccupation with Angel’s civilian physique by playing up his aggravation. “Anything I can help you with?”
“I…That is, I…I wanted-“ Nicholas began, then stopped, then tried a second time, and finally gave up after the third attempt.
Tony bit the inside of his cheek, willing his emotions into neutrality. Of course, that was impossible, so instead he continued with the aggravation and added a touch of condescendence, hoping to pull it out of the other officer.
“Since when did you pick up a stutter, A-…Sergeant?” Tony replied, reluctant to use his sir name; if he was going to keep things under control, he’d need to stay professional. After all, it was only two weeks ago that he’d employed ‘Angel’ for a whole variety of sultry purposes.
“I haven’t one,” Angel grumbled, his trademark bad-ass look beginning to emerge beneath the mottled sea of emotions he seemed to be sailing through. “It’s just difficult to speak to you, Sergeant.”
“I’ll second the reverse of that,” Tony scoffed, rubbing that spot on the back of his neck, as Nicholas rolled his eyes.
“That’s not what I meant,” Nicholas sighed, his expression softening, his eyes seeking out Tony’s as he stepped closer, left hand on the doorframe. Inches apart, yet neither of them gave ground, studying each other’s faces.
“…I know,” Tony finally whispered, bobbing his head to gaze down at his hands before snapping sharply back to attention.
Angel’s right hand was on Tony’s upper arm.
“I was hoping…you’d come for a stroll with me,” Nicholas murmured, clearing his throat for good measure and raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Perhaps…come in for a bit…we should…talk, really-“
Tony gave him a scathing look, though in his mind he was still just enjoying the sight of the younger officer, when he realized it’d been too long a pause. Stepping back, he held the door open a bit further and motioned Angel inside, peering warily up and down the street before closing the door behind him.
“S’a nice place,” Nicholas said amiably, allowing Tony to usher him into the living room, which was separated from the kitchen only by an island. That had been his wife’s idea, better for entertaining, she’d said, but now it allowed Tony to keep tabs on the Sergeant, whose intentions were still unclear.
“How d’you take your tea, Sergeant?” Tony asked, fumbling for a spoon in one of a thousand drawers, feeling his ears go red.
“I don’t drink any caffeine after mid-day,” Angel called in reply, having begun his inspection of Tony’s living room.
“Well, I’ve cranberry juice, if that’d suit you better,” Tony said with a sigh, popping the spoon in his mouth to free his hands. He pulled open the fridge door, using his other hand to shuffle through its contents, but couldn’t for the life of him find anything fruit-related besides juice boxes.
“I’ll have whatever you are, then,” Angel said from rather close behind him, and Tony whipped around, falling back against the counter beside the refrigerator so as to avoid knocking into Nicholas, who was less than a foot or so away.
He froze, face burning magenta, as Nicholas pulled two Newcastles from the fridge door and swung it shut, offering one to Tony, who took it hesitantly. As soon as his hand was free, Angel reached up and plucked the spoon from Tony’s lips, tossing it into the sink.
“Can’t exactly talk with cutlery in your mouth, can you?” Nicholas tried to joke weakly, clearing his throat when Tony continued to give him a baffled look.
“I-I’m sorry, what?” Tony finally managed, pressing against the counter more forcefully as he slid sideways, becoming lodged in the corner where the counter met the sink.
“I wanted…I want to apologize,” Nicholas said, hanging his head, setting his unopened beer on the counter beside the sink. He kept stepping closer and closer…
“For what?” Tony choked, preoccupied with maintaining his distance, which was nearly impossible with him pinned down like that.
“You know very well what for,” Nicholas sighed, placing his hands on the counter to each of Tony’s sides, so that he was boxed in perfectly. Their bodies were so close, Tony could smell Angel’s cologne, which was shockingly identical to Danny’s. A hand reached up briefly and snatched his glasses away, making Tony bite back a gasp, but his view of Nicholas wasn’t blurred.
“Nicholas-“ Tony began, but Nicholas cut him off.
Their hands stayed at their sides as their bodies came together, barely parted lips letting their tongues mingle only teasingly. Their mouths were vastly different, Tony’s filled with the after-glow of beer and a touch of mint, Nicholas’s a bit tangy, like copper and cranberries. Nicholas was careful about it this time, slowly drawing his tongue across Tony’s bottom lip before sliding it fully into his mouth, eliciting a heavy groan from Tony that made his knees shudder. Now his left hand came up, clutching at the soft hair at the back of Tony’s head, tipping his head back and guiding him gently into the kiss. Tony’s tongue pressed back against his, searching for a way into Nicholas’s mouth, until both of their slick muscles lapped together between both mouths, sucking and biting just enough to send little jolts of excitement through them, but not enough to hurt.
No pain this time.
“I’m sorry,” Nicholas murmured against Tony’s lips, and for a sinking moment, Tony thought he would leave.
He grabbed his shoulders, trying desperately to get Nicholas to look at him, and was met with a pair of arms twining around his waist, pulling them together as Nicholas pressed him back onto the countertop.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Nicholas continued, finally meeting Tony’s eyes as his fingers began to caress his back. “I’m sorry I snapped, and…I should have known better than that, really-“
“Why?” Tony managed to ask, fighting the dizzying effect Nicholas was having on him. “Why did you get so upset? You never-“
“It reminded me of someone,” Nicholas interrupted. His expression was of deep sadness and regret, and Tony reached up and placed a soothing hand against his cheek out of impulse. “Someone who hurt me…a long time ago…And I never forgave him. It wasn’t your fault, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-“
This time it was Tony’s turn to silence Nicholas, pulling him into another gentle kiss. He drew Nicholas’s bottom lip between his own, running his tongue over the slightly chapped skin, before adding a bit of suction and pressing back against Nicholas’s mouth.
Nicholas pulled away prematurely, lunging at Tony’s neck, gathering the other officer into his arms as Tony went limp almost immediately from the hot tongue and insistent lips grinding against his flesh.
“Holy mother of God…” Tony whimpered, trying to regain his footing as Nicholas’s mouth worked down his neck. When he met his collar this time, Nicholas reached down and yanked Tony’s jumper straight up and over his head, barely ceasing his attack for a moment. Nicholas continued to work around, feathering Tony’s collarbone with swift kisses, letting his tongue drop into the hollow along his clavicle, which made Tony whine rather appealingly.
Nicholas pulled away slightly, making Tony feel cold, until Nicholas pulled his own shirt up past his ears and threw it aside, revealing the most appetizing body Tony had ever been given the privilege to fondle.
“You’re…well,” Tony almost laughed, going scarlet in the face as he realized how out of shape he was in comparison.
“As are you,” Nicholas replied, which was similarly laughable, but the hungry look in Nicholas’s eyes made Tony shudder all over.
Their mouths locked together, panting and whimpering as Nicholas pulled Tony backward into the living room, finding the couch with marked difficulty before pushing Tony down onto it. Nicholas grabbed Tony’s right leg and readjusted their position, wordlessly offering Tony a pillow to protect his head from the armrest, as Nicholas climbed between Tony’s legs and leaned low over him.
“You’re a lovely way of apologizing,” Tony giggled, trying to break the tension.
“I thought you might enjoy it,” Nicholas smirked, his nose brushing Tony’s playfully.
Nicholas went serious then, reaching down and taking hold of Tony’s belt buckle, pulling the loop free and undoing the clasp before letting it fall open. He worked at the button and fly next, undoing his trousers speedily and without ceremony, but as he reached to pull them down, Tony grabbed his hands and pulled them away.
“What is it?” Nicholas asked, fully concerned.
“Y-you…If-If you do th-this…” Tony stuttered, embarrassed and afraid. Sighing, he said in a rush, “As much as I’d love to make love mindlessly, I’m in love with you.”
Nicholas blinked hard, trying to register the meaning of Tony’s words.
“You’re saying you’ve feelings for me more than just sexually?” Nicholas finally managed in the same dead-pan voice he used for talking down at Cartwright. He hoped Nicholas had never said those particular words to either of the Andes, though…
“Well…yes,” Tony replied weakly, feeling completely hopeless, looking pointedly away from Nicholas.
A thousand excuses ran through Nicholas’s head: You’re married, we’re coworkers, we don’t know each other that well, we’re both MEN. Of course, the last one was a bit disqualified by all his previous doings, but the others were valid enough. At the same time, Nicholas sat back and really considered Tony for a moment: He was about five years older, a bit daft, somewhat soft, and totally blinded by the comfortable façade of the small-town environment. Yet he was a Sergeant, a man of his own status, who took his job seriously and worked harder than any of the officers in Sandford, and had a fairly charming wit to boot. More importantly, he was of a similar mind to Nicholas, and while their interaction was more frequently misconstrued as rivalry, there was really no animosity between them.
Except two weeks ago…
“Even though I hurt you?” Nicholas asked, looking for clarification. “Even though I broke you down like that? Even though-“
“Despite that, yes,” Tony interrupted, looking somewhat peeved. “As odd as it might sound, Nicholas, I…well, I rather…liked it, honestly…”
Tony cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably as he spoke, but Nicholas was grinning on the inside.
He’d never really thought about it until then, half-naked in Tony’s living room with Fisher similarly splayed out beneath him, but it was possible that, despite his self-destructive little tantrum, that there was something here. That he might have really found someone this time.
Sure, Danny was lovely, a right lap-dog at times, but he wasn’t much for depth of conversation. Andy was pluckish and cheeky, easily led and completely forgiving, but he was rather fickle about relationships. Andrew fought him on everything, being the only man to ever top him, and while that added a new flair to things, it wasn’t much more than an ongoing battle.
And then there was Tony.
“Nicholas,” Tony murmured, reaching up to stroke Angel’s cheek again.
Nicholas snapped out of his reverie, gazing down into the concerned, loving eyes of a man he felt he’d never seen quite accurately before. Maybe he’d been moving too fast, so caught up in fighting to stay true to himself in a smothering little village, that he hadn’t seen the other person in the water, fighting just as hard.
“Tell me it’s alright, and it will be,” Nicholas said simply, returning the intense stare, licking his lips as he leaned in closer. “Tell me it’s alright to love you, Tony.”
Cocking his head to one side, Tony smiled almost in disbelief, pulling Nicholas toward him. Just before their mouths met, he whispered, “It’s alright, Nicholas.”
“Then I love you,” Nicholas replied, smiling against Tony's lips.
And he did.
That fiasco in fic'ing is here...
Nevertheless, it might have helped if I mentioned it was only part 1... And I don't know how far this will go, because I'm falling in love with these two.
TITLE: Two Weeks
PAIRING: Nicholas Angel/Tony Fisher
RATING: PG-13
WORD COUNT: 2734
SUMMARY: It's been two weeks. What's changed?
A/N: Some kissing and whatnot, feels a bit PWP to me, but I was happy where I stopped. Feel free to break out the cricket bats now.
Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since the encounter, and not a word had passed between them.
Sergeant Fisher maintained a vigilant watch over his day planner, where he scribbled stealthily encrypted notes pertaining to Sergeant Angel, who had become quite the handful from an observatory vantage point.
Mostly because he was going out of his way to avoid Tony.
Still, they were forced to share the same room for daily briefings, which were far shorter than the amount of time it took to get everyone into the same room without a scrap breaking out between Wainwright and Angel, most likely with Danny and Cartwright hot on their heels. In that short space of time, Angel would put himself in the opposite corner, or place Danny in Tony’s line of sight, and had once even feigned the disturbingly unbecoming posture of sleeping while propped against Doris’s desk.
Tony wanted his eyes, though. He’d gotten his fill of arms and heels disappearing around corners, of the back of his head bobbing slowly as he walked away, and while he wasn’t quite fed up with Nicholas’s backside, he would have preferred awareness of its presence as Nicholas approached, rather than just salivating mentally as its owner fled.
Oftentimes he would find the memory of their encounter thrust into his consciousness, forcing him to excuse himself from public situations until he could get control of himself. Besides the whole rage-complex that Angel seemed to be fostering, and his disturbing grasp of the various uses for handcuffs, Tony had found himself dangerously enamored with Nicholas.
Dangerous in that he was letting it consume him, despite knowing Nicholas would never stand for it, nor would he be able to give him the sort of relationship he wanted. Besides being contra-natural, the whole business would get them ostracized from work as well as community, and then where would they be?
Yet nothing got Tony hard faster than watching Nicholas eat yogurt…
During such moments, Tony was sure Nicholas was teasing him. He had to be, what with the way his tongue curled around the spoon, drawing it slowly across his mouth, and rounding out the whole performance by licking the traces from his lips.
CHRIST, Nicholas…
He remembered something else as well, something Nicholas had told him that day two weeks prior, really the last thing he’d ever said to him:
“S’not me,” Nicholas murmurs, hastily buttoning his shirt and popping the collar as he leans over to grab his tie off the floor.
“Pardon?” Tony asks, zipping his fly and rattling his belt buckle as he refastens it tightly around his waist.
“This. All of this,” Nicholas snaps, though the usual edge isn’t there. “I’m not…this isn’t me, this isn’t what I’m like, and…This shouldn’t have happened, Sergeant.”
“I’m not going to tell anyone, obviously,” Tony replies softly, looking away from Nicholas’s gaze.
For a moment, Nicholas is motionless, his fingers still clutching at the fresh knot in his tie, a wounded, saddened look flashing across his face.
“Good. Then it never happened,” Nicholas says curtly, tugging on his shirt and at his pants to fix them before going for the door.
He pauses, one foot past the frame, the other still in the locker room, and turns to give Tony an appraising stare. He’s torn, confused…
And then he’s gone, leaving Tony to stare at the closed door, shirt hanging in one fist, the other empty but balled just as tightly.
Tony sat alone in his living room, caught up in what was quickly becoming his favorite book, with a half-empty bottle of Newcastle growing warm on the coffee table and the house pleasantly empty and silent for once. With his wife and kids on holiday to her parents’ house in Blackpool, Tony was finally able to get a quality read in; he’d just finished a book called Relentless by the same author, and he was itching to get through this one, too.
Where Danny watched action movies, Tony read crime-thrillers.
At first he didn’t hear the knock, thinking it was the cat destroying something irreplaceable yet again, but the second round was far more distinct, and Tony nearly leapt out of his skin as he rocketed out of his chair. The book hit the coffee table inches from the Newcastle as Tony jumped over the couch and made for the front door, shouting, “Alright, alright, I’m coming!”
He flung open the door, letting the cool night air rush in, the door almost fanning the chill inside. It was unusually cool for June, but Tony had a feeling that the icy atmosphere was augmented by the occupant of his stoop.
“Good evening, Sergeant,” Angel said softly, his hands buried in his pockets, shoulders hunched, wearing only a short-sleeved jumper and khakis.
“Evening,” Tony replied, trying to hide his preoccupation with Angel’s civilian physique by playing up his aggravation. “Anything I can help you with?”
“I…That is, I…I wanted-“ Nicholas began, then stopped, then tried a second time, and finally gave up after the third attempt.
Tony bit the inside of his cheek, willing his emotions into neutrality. Of course, that was impossible, so instead he continued with the aggravation and added a touch of condescendence, hoping to pull it out of the other officer.
“Since when did you pick up a stutter, A-…Sergeant?” Tony replied, reluctant to use his sir name; if he was going to keep things under control, he’d need to stay professional. After all, it was only two weeks ago that he’d employed ‘Angel’ for a whole variety of sultry purposes.
“I haven’t one,” Angel grumbled, his trademark bad-ass look beginning to emerge beneath the mottled sea of emotions he seemed to be sailing through. “It’s just difficult to speak to you, Sergeant.”
“I’ll second the reverse of that,” Tony scoffed, rubbing that spot on the back of his neck, as Nicholas rolled his eyes.
“That’s not what I meant,” Nicholas sighed, his expression softening, his eyes seeking out Tony’s as he stepped closer, left hand on the doorframe. Inches apart, yet neither of them gave ground, studying each other’s faces.
“…I know,” Tony finally whispered, bobbing his head to gaze down at his hands before snapping sharply back to attention.
Angel’s right hand was on Tony’s upper arm.
“I was hoping…you’d come for a stroll with me,” Nicholas murmured, clearing his throat for good measure and raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Perhaps…come in for a bit…we should…talk, really-“
Tony gave him a scathing look, though in his mind he was still just enjoying the sight of the younger officer, when he realized it’d been too long a pause. Stepping back, he held the door open a bit further and motioned Angel inside, peering warily up and down the street before closing the door behind him.
“S’a nice place,” Nicholas said amiably, allowing Tony to usher him into the living room, which was separated from the kitchen only by an island. That had been his wife’s idea, better for entertaining, she’d said, but now it allowed Tony to keep tabs on the Sergeant, whose intentions were still unclear.
“How d’you take your tea, Sergeant?” Tony asked, fumbling for a spoon in one of a thousand drawers, feeling his ears go red.
“I don’t drink any caffeine after mid-day,” Angel called in reply, having begun his inspection of Tony’s living room.
“Well, I’ve cranberry juice, if that’d suit you better,” Tony said with a sigh, popping the spoon in his mouth to free his hands. He pulled open the fridge door, using his other hand to shuffle through its contents, but couldn’t for the life of him find anything fruit-related besides juice boxes.
“I’ll have whatever you are, then,” Angel said from rather close behind him, and Tony whipped around, falling back against the counter beside the refrigerator so as to avoid knocking into Nicholas, who was less than a foot or so away.
He froze, face burning magenta, as Nicholas pulled two Newcastles from the fridge door and swung it shut, offering one to Tony, who took it hesitantly. As soon as his hand was free, Angel reached up and plucked the spoon from Tony’s lips, tossing it into the sink.
“Can’t exactly talk with cutlery in your mouth, can you?” Nicholas tried to joke weakly, clearing his throat when Tony continued to give him a baffled look.
“I-I’m sorry, what?” Tony finally managed, pressing against the counter more forcefully as he slid sideways, becoming lodged in the corner where the counter met the sink.
“I wanted…I want to apologize,” Nicholas said, hanging his head, setting his unopened beer on the counter beside the sink. He kept stepping closer and closer…
“For what?” Tony choked, preoccupied with maintaining his distance, which was nearly impossible with him pinned down like that.
“You know very well what for,” Nicholas sighed, placing his hands on the counter to each of Tony’s sides, so that he was boxed in perfectly. Their bodies were so close, Tony could smell Angel’s cologne, which was shockingly identical to Danny’s. A hand reached up briefly and snatched his glasses away, making Tony bite back a gasp, but his view of Nicholas wasn’t blurred.
“Nicholas-“ Tony began, but Nicholas cut him off.
Their hands stayed at their sides as their bodies came together, barely parted lips letting their tongues mingle only teasingly. Their mouths were vastly different, Tony’s filled with the after-glow of beer and a touch of mint, Nicholas’s a bit tangy, like copper and cranberries. Nicholas was careful about it this time, slowly drawing his tongue across Tony’s bottom lip before sliding it fully into his mouth, eliciting a heavy groan from Tony that made his knees shudder. Now his left hand came up, clutching at the soft hair at the back of Tony’s head, tipping his head back and guiding him gently into the kiss. Tony’s tongue pressed back against his, searching for a way into Nicholas’s mouth, until both of their slick muscles lapped together between both mouths, sucking and biting just enough to send little jolts of excitement through them, but not enough to hurt.
No pain this time.
“I’m sorry,” Nicholas murmured against Tony’s lips, and for a sinking moment, Tony thought he would leave.
He grabbed his shoulders, trying desperately to get Nicholas to look at him, and was met with a pair of arms twining around his waist, pulling them together as Nicholas pressed him back onto the countertop.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Nicholas continued, finally meeting Tony’s eyes as his fingers began to caress his back. “I’m sorry I snapped, and…I should have known better than that, really-“
“Why?” Tony managed to ask, fighting the dizzying effect Nicholas was having on him. “Why did you get so upset? You never-“
“It reminded me of someone,” Nicholas interrupted. His expression was of deep sadness and regret, and Tony reached up and placed a soothing hand against his cheek out of impulse. “Someone who hurt me…a long time ago…And I never forgave him. It wasn’t your fault, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you-“
This time it was Tony’s turn to silence Nicholas, pulling him into another gentle kiss. He drew Nicholas’s bottom lip between his own, running his tongue over the slightly chapped skin, before adding a bit of suction and pressing back against Nicholas’s mouth.
Nicholas pulled away prematurely, lunging at Tony’s neck, gathering the other officer into his arms as Tony went limp almost immediately from the hot tongue and insistent lips grinding against his flesh.
“Holy mother of God…” Tony whimpered, trying to regain his footing as Nicholas’s mouth worked down his neck. When he met his collar this time, Nicholas reached down and yanked Tony’s jumper straight up and over his head, barely ceasing his attack for a moment. Nicholas continued to work around, feathering Tony’s collarbone with swift kisses, letting his tongue drop into the hollow along his clavicle, which made Tony whine rather appealingly.
Nicholas pulled away slightly, making Tony feel cold, until Nicholas pulled his own shirt up past his ears and threw it aside, revealing the most appetizing body Tony had ever been given the privilege to fondle.
“You’re…well,” Tony almost laughed, going scarlet in the face as he realized how out of shape he was in comparison.
“As are you,” Nicholas replied, which was similarly laughable, but the hungry look in Nicholas’s eyes made Tony shudder all over.
Their mouths locked together, panting and whimpering as Nicholas pulled Tony backward into the living room, finding the couch with marked difficulty before pushing Tony down onto it. Nicholas grabbed Tony’s right leg and readjusted their position, wordlessly offering Tony a pillow to protect his head from the armrest, as Nicholas climbed between Tony’s legs and leaned low over him.
“You’re a lovely way of apologizing,” Tony giggled, trying to break the tension.
“I thought you might enjoy it,” Nicholas smirked, his nose brushing Tony’s playfully.
Nicholas went serious then, reaching down and taking hold of Tony’s belt buckle, pulling the loop free and undoing the clasp before letting it fall open. He worked at the button and fly next, undoing his trousers speedily and without ceremony, but as he reached to pull them down, Tony grabbed his hands and pulled them away.
“What is it?” Nicholas asked, fully concerned.
“Y-you…If-If you do th-this…” Tony stuttered, embarrassed and afraid. Sighing, he said in a rush, “As much as I’d love to make love mindlessly, I’m in love with you.”
Nicholas blinked hard, trying to register the meaning of Tony’s words.
“You’re saying you’ve feelings for me more than just sexually?” Nicholas finally managed in the same dead-pan voice he used for talking down at Cartwright. He hoped Nicholas had never said those particular words to either of the Andes, though…
“Well…yes,” Tony replied weakly, feeling completely hopeless, looking pointedly away from Nicholas.
A thousand excuses ran through Nicholas’s head: You’re married, we’re coworkers, we don’t know each other that well, we’re both MEN. Of course, the last one was a bit disqualified by all his previous doings, but the others were valid enough. At the same time, Nicholas sat back and really considered Tony for a moment: He was about five years older, a bit daft, somewhat soft, and totally blinded by the comfortable façade of the small-town environment. Yet he was a Sergeant, a man of his own status, who took his job seriously and worked harder than any of the officers in Sandford, and had a fairly charming wit to boot. More importantly, he was of a similar mind to Nicholas, and while their interaction was more frequently misconstrued as rivalry, there was really no animosity between them.
Except two weeks ago…
“Even though I hurt you?” Nicholas asked, looking for clarification. “Even though I broke you down like that? Even though-“
“Despite that, yes,” Tony interrupted, looking somewhat peeved. “As odd as it might sound, Nicholas, I…well, I rather…liked it, honestly…”
Tony cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably as he spoke, but Nicholas was grinning on the inside.
He’d never really thought about it until then, half-naked in Tony’s living room with Fisher similarly splayed out beneath him, but it was possible that, despite his self-destructive little tantrum, that there was something here. That he might have really found someone this time.
Sure, Danny was lovely, a right lap-dog at times, but he wasn’t much for depth of conversation. Andy was pluckish and cheeky, easily led and completely forgiving, but he was rather fickle about relationships. Andrew fought him on everything, being the only man to ever top him, and while that added a new flair to things, it wasn’t much more than an ongoing battle.
And then there was Tony.
“Nicholas,” Tony murmured, reaching up to stroke Angel’s cheek again.
Nicholas snapped out of his reverie, gazing down into the concerned, loving eyes of a man he felt he’d never seen quite accurately before. Maybe he’d been moving too fast, so caught up in fighting to stay true to himself in a smothering little village, that he hadn’t seen the other person in the water, fighting just as hard.
“Tell me it’s alright, and it will be,” Nicholas said simply, returning the intense stare, licking his lips as he leaned in closer. “Tell me it’s alright to love you, Tony.”
Cocking his head to one side, Tony smiled almost in disbelief, pulling Nicholas toward him. Just before their mouths met, he whispered, “It’s alright, Nicholas.”
“Then I love you,” Nicholas replied, smiling against Tony's lips.
And he did.