Author's Notes:
(Chapter dedicated to my Alien for Christmas! *smooches Kelsey then humps her leg a little bit*)
So who thinks Cody is hot? *raises hand*. Only me, Kelsey and a few other deranged people? Okay then... hee hee. =P
This chapter may not work for you if didn't answer 'yes' to the previous question... or it might, I don't know! What are you asking me for? I'm just the author!
Just consider yourself warned... heh heh. I won't say any more or it will give away to much...
Also, I introduce an original character in to this chapter. I hope you'll love him as much as I do! Being the visual person that I am, I felt the need to 'cast' an actor to play the role.
The lucky man I picked was John Barrowman. (You should really google him or something! He's hawt. And gay!)
Sexy pic of The Barrowman:
Now you can place who the hell this bloke is, so I shall stop waffling and just get on with it!
Enjoy! *wink*
June 5th
Pittsburgh - Brian’s Loft
7:50am
As the tranquillity of sleep gradually ebbed away, Brian felt himself slip into an unwanted and frustrating state of semi-consciousness.
He willed himself not to wake up, reluctant to face the long and arduous day that he knew would be ahead of him, but with every minute that passed, he became more and more aware of his surroundings.
Erotic and satisfying dreams of ramming in to a certain blond’s tight ass were completely forgotten as he gave in to the cruel awakening process.
As he came round, the first, and most annoying, thing that the FBI agent noticed was a dull aching sensation that resided in a deep location behind his eyes. It radiated throughout his entire head, pulsing along with his heartbeat and causing him great discomfort.
“Fuck,” Brian quietly groaned to himself as he struggled to sit up.
Haphazardly leaning against the pillows, the brunet began to rub at his sluggish eyes in an attempt to alleviate the less than pleasant hangover effects that gathered within their hazel depths.
Getting ridiculously drunk and fucking anything hot that moved certainly wasn’t one of Brian’s better ideas, especially when he had so much invested in the Bureau’s current investigation. How could he have been so fucking thoughtless?
Brian swore to himself that if he actually believed in regret, he would most definitely regret what he had done, and who he had done, the previous night.
As his vision became focused, instead of nauseatingly blurry, the FBI agent gazed around his bedroom, checking for any damage that may have occurred whilst he was in his inebriated state. Thankfully, everything seemed to be in order, and none of his valuable belongings were out of place or broken.
Just as Brian was about to detangle himself from the luxurious bed sheets and get out of bed, he heard what sounded like ceramic objects smashing and saw the silhouetted movement of someone walking around in his kitchen.
His hangover immediately forgotten, Brian strained to see the unidentified person through the obscuring glass of the wall partitions and slowly began to get out of bed. Reaching for his gun, that was fortunately placed in it’s holster, on the nightstand, the FBI agent moved without a sound, aware that if he alerted the intruder to his presence, there could be very dire consequences.
Weapon clutched tightly in both hands, Brian silently lingered at the top of the bedroom stairs, composing himself, and waiting for the right moment to strike.
“Don’t move!” he yelled, swiftly moving from behind the wall partition and down the stairs, gun poised to shoot.
“Jesus Christ, Brian!” Michael exclaimed loudly, face contorted with surprise. He raised his arms in surrender and stared anxiously at his weapon-wielding and barely clothed best friend.
“Fuck, Mikey,” Brian huffed, instantly pulling his gun back and clicking the safety back on so that his friend was no longer at the risk of being shot.
“What the fuck did you do that for?” Michael shouted, his alarm translating in to anger. Normally, Michael would have found such a situation rather amusing, it wasn’t every day that your best friend, wearing only black shorts, pointed a gun a you, but he was so pissed with Brian, that he failed to see the funny side.
“I thought you were an intruder,” Brian fired back, heavily placing his handgun on the kitchen counter so that it made an impressive clanging sound. “What am I meant to think when I hear someone sneaking around my loft?”
“I wasn’t sneaking around your loft,” Michael insisted. “I was making you some coffee!”
“And you broke one of my mugs,” Brian observed.
“Fuck you,” Michael shot back. “I stayed here all night to make sure you were okay!”
“Well, I never asked you to,” Brian replied harshly, despising the thought of being so intoxicated that Michael assumed that he wasn’t fit to take care of himself.
“Well, excuse me if I didn’t want to get a call from the cleaning lady telling me that she’s found you dead in a pool of your own vomit,” Michael retorted.
“Don’t exaggerate, Mikey,” Brian sighed, wincing at his friend’s overreaction. He really didn’t need this kind of shit when he still had a kidnapped blond to find and a bitch of a headache to ignore.
“Who’s exaggerating? I’m serious,” Michael persisted, pouring Brian a large cup of freshly brewed coffee. “I’ve never seen you like that before. Fuck knows how many drinks you had last night.”
“So, I needed a little alcohol to have a good time,” Brian shrugged, tipping the entire contents of the sugar bowl in to his coffee. “It’s not like it’s against the law.”
“But the E and the poppers you did are,” Michael replied flatly. “What if someone from the Field Office had seen you?”
“I sincerely doubt that my colleagues congregate in homosexual establishments such as Babylon,” Brian answered sarcastically, taking a large gulp of the ludicrously strong coffee.
“Yeah, well if they did,” Michael continued angrily, “They would’ve seen you getting a blowjob right in the middle of the dance floor.”
“Really?” Brian asked, eyebrow raised and a smirk curling the edges of his mouth. Michael met the taller man’s alluring eyes, and all of his rage and frustration seemed to dissipate.
“Yeah,” he replied with a smile, easily forgiving the grinning FBI agent.
“Christ,” Brian moaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can’t even remember it. No wonder my head feels like it’s been trampled on by a thousand morbidly obese elephants.”
“Here, take this,” Michael instructed, handing Brian a glass of water and some aspirin.
“Yes, mother,” Brian mocked, his voice a whiny falsetto. He did as Michael asked though, not one to turn down the caring devotion of his adoring best friend.
“So, I take it that you have the day off?” Michael asked. “I mean, you wouldn’t want to go in to work with a hangover.”
“Unfortunately not,” Brian sighed, swallowing the last of his water and aspirin. “And I’ve got to meet with the new Regional Director.”
“Fuck, Brian,” Michael blurted out. “Why would you go to Babylon if-”
“Pain management,” Brian interrupted, signalling to Michael that the subject was not up for any more discussion.
There was a long silence where both men simply stared at each other, trying to figure out what the other was thinking. “Do you want a lift to the store?” Brian finally asked.
“That would be nice, considering all that I’ve done for you,” Michael huffed, folding his arms and pretending to be annoyed.
“You’re so pathetic,” Brian replied, a smirk on his face as he nudged his best friend and headed in the direction of the bathroom.
Pittsburgh - Unknown Location
8:45am
“Cody, if you don’t do something to shut that fucking cocksucker up, I swear to God,” Chris growled, clenching his fists and looking menacingly towards the closed door.
“Alright,” Cody hissed, holding his hands up and reluctantly getting out of his chair. He pulled the door open and was immediately met with the unobstructed sound of Justin’s choked sobs.
Closing the paint-chipped door behind him, Cody stepped in to the small room, and slowly walked up to the sad excuse for a bed that the blond was currently lying on.
Justin quickly tried to reduce the substantial flow of tears from his eyes, as the kidnapper came closer and closer towards him. His attempt failed, however, because with every step that the man took, Justin’s terror increased so much that he was actually crying harder when Cody finally reached him.
“Oh, for fucks sake,” Cody complained, taking in the blond’s pitiful appearance. Thick blood matted Justin’s silky, blond hair and continued to run in sinister trails down the side of his pale face.
Cody suspected that the wound on the blond’s head had actually begun to heal itself, but the added volume of Justin’s tears gave the impression that it was still continuing to bleed.
An angry, red hue saturated the blond’s wrists, where the coarse ropes were bound too tightly, and the younger man’s bruised body visibly shook. Panic glazed his once vibrant, blue eyes, as they unconsciously begged for their owner not to be harmed.
“Please, Cody,” Justin whispered faintly, struggling to swallow against the extreme desert-like feeling in his throat.
Enjoying the obvious power that he had over the blond, Cody ran his fingers over the bruised skin of the younger man’s chest, tracing patterns up and down the exposed flesh, taking advantage of the t-shirt’s ripped fabric.
Justin flinched, gasping out a huffed breath, as he tried to get away from the emotional and physical pain of being touched. He whimpered, jerking against the restraints with the little energy that he had left, desperately wanting Cody to stop.
Unusually disconcerted by the blond’s distress, Cody stopped his domination-driven ministrations and made his way over to the sink in the corner of the room. He persuasively turned the old, rusty faucet and filled a cup with the slowly flowing water, before walking back over to Justin.
“Drink,” he instructed the younger man, holding the somewhat dirty cup to the blond’s quivering lips.
Justin wished he had the strength of mind to refuse the water, but his throat was so dry that he had to give in, widely parting his lips so that Cody could pour the refreshing liquid in to his eagerly awaiting mouth. As soon as the water trickled down his throat, however, Justin began to cough violently, shuddering and gasping.
“Fuck,” Cody exclaimed, hastily stepping away from the bed when most of the water came flying back at him.
“Hurts,” Justin moaned out, writhing in agony when the coughing had stopped.
“Okay, okay. Hold on,” Cody replied, exiting the room, knowing that he had the solution to Justin’s pain.
“What are you doing?” Chris asked suspiciously, looking from the open door to Cody and back again.
“I’m doing what you told me to,” Cody stated, rummaging around in his tattered backpack and pulling out a small metal box.
“You are not going to give him some of your stash!” Chris yelled, grabbing Cody’s shoulder forcefully and pulling the man back.
“What the fuck business is it of yours?” Cody questioned, removing Chris’s hand and continuing to set up his vast selection of drug paraphernalia.
Chris let out a defeated grunt and allowed Cody to get on with the meticulous process of obtaining a substantial amount of freshly heated heroin.
“How sweet, you’re going to give him some of your smack,” Chris mocked. “What’s next? Asking for his hand in marriage?” Not wanting to give Chris the satisfaction of an answer, Cody simply ignored him, pretending that he was absorbed by his task.
Truthfully, he didn’t really want to share his drug stash with his kidnapping victim, but Cody felt a strange affection and sympathy for the injured young man.
Maybe it was because both of them were gay? Maybe it was because he thought that Justin was hot? In any case, he didn’t want the blond to go on suffering unnecessarily, especially since his pain had been caused by a moronic homophobe.
“Bring him back unharmed, my ass,” Cody thought to himself, recalling the very specific terms of the job. He sincerely hoped that Chris would receive some sort of punishment for his stupidity when their boss arrived.
A few minutes later, and Cody’s heroin-obtaining task was complete, so he returned to Justin’s room, a half-filled syringe held upright in his fingers.
When Justin saw the needle wielding kidnapper advancing on him, he began to struggle and yelp, not caring that with every inch he moved, a shockwave of pain shot straight through his entire body.
The thought of Cody injecting him with some unknown substance scared the shit out of the blond, and he was going to do everything in his extensively diminished power to prevent it from happening.
“Justin,” Cody stated clearly. “This is going to help you.” Unconvinced that Cody would ever want to help him, the blond began to outwardly sob, a fresh set of tears running down his flushed cheeks.
“No... Please… Cody, don’t,” he gasped out, yanking his arms up and down, trying unsuccessfully to free them from the coarse rope. Completely ignoring Justin’s plea, Cody simply gripped the blond’s left arm tightly, and quickly slid the needle in to his pale skin.
The younger man flinched at the initial sting of the needle’s penetration, and continued to moan the word ‘no’ as Cody injected the viscous liquid. As the heroin flowed in to the tensed muscle of his arm, Justin grimaced at the burning, trickling sensation, and his head repeatedly thrashed from side to side in absolute desperation and helplessness.
“I’ll be back later,” Cody told the blond matter-of-factly, swiftly withdrawing the syringe and exiting the room. The door slammed shut, and Justin was left alone, once more, with just his petrifying thoughts and the seemingly unrelenting pain for company.
Pittsburgh - Allegheny General Hospital
9:05am
Awake for the first time in nearly twenty four hours, Jennifer carefully began to reposition herself against the remotely comfortable hospital pillows, the metal frame of her bed proving to be a helpful support for her still somewhat shaky body.
The last thing she could vaguely remember was watching Justin as he sketched picture after picture in the chair beside her. She recalled thinking how incredibly proud she was of her son, admiring his artistic talents and how utterly handsome he looked.
After that point, however, everything was so hazy that it simply merged in to one mystifying blur and it occurred to Jennifer that her brain appeared to be missing an important event.
Concerned that parts of her memory were an indecipherable mist, Jennifer felt around in her bed for the call button so that she could find out what the hell had happened by asking one of the nurses.
She halted her searching, however, when she noticed that Brian was cautiously gazing at her through the recovery room window. Jennifer smiled, genuinely pleased to see her colleague, and gestured for him to come in to the room, knowing, like everyone at the Pittsburgh Field Office, that Special Agent Kinney was definitely the best person to get some answers from.
“How are you feeling?” Brian asked tensely, stepping through the doorway and making his way over to the side of Jennifer’s bed.
“Much better,” Jennifer replied honestly. She was about to ask Brian if he knew anything about what had transpired the previous day, but stopped, noticing that the brunet seemed unusually anxious.
“Jennifer,” Brian began, and by the tone of his voice, she immediately knew that the brunet was going to give her some terrible news. “There’s something I have to tell you.” The FBI agent paused, wondering how he was going to explain to his boss that her son had been kidnapped. “Justin’s been… he’s…”
“No, please God, no,” Jennifer whispered, cutting Brian off because she feared the worst and didn’t want the brunet to actually verbalize what she was thinking.
“I’m sorry,” Brian apologized, feeling it was the right thing to say, even though he knew that it was complete and utter bullshit.
“There must be a mistake. Maybe he just went to see his friend Daphne? Or, or maybe he went to the art store to get a new sketch pad? Or, or…” Jennifer rambled, talking over Brian so she wouldn’t have to hear any more of what he had to say.
“Jennifer-” Brian said loudly, trying to interrupt.
“No, please no,” Jennifer shook her head, refusing to believe that this was happening.
“Jennifer, listen to me,” Brian instructed urgently, placing both of his hands on her shoulders and pleading with his eyes for her to listen, hoping to God that there wouldn’t be a repeat performance of what had taken place the last time he tried to talk like this to his boss.
Jennifer abruptly stopped talking and motionlessly stared up at the brunet, her expression fixed with dread as she realised that no matter how painful it was, she had to hear the truth.
With an apprehensive silence filling the room, Brian quickly took the opportunity to continue. “We suspect that Justin’s been kidnapped,” he admitted slowly, the guilt evident in his voice.
“No, no, no, no,” Jennifer cried, repeating the word to herself like a mantra. She grasped blindly and desperately at Brian’s shirt, trying to find some comfort in pulling the FBI agent closer to her as tears escaped her eyes.
“It’s okay,” Brian reassured, holding Jennifer’s small frame in a gentle embrace and soothingly rubbing her back in an attempt to calm her. “I swear that I’m going to find him, Jen.”
“Please, Brian. You have to,” Jennifer whispered against the brunet’s chest.
“I will,” Brian promised, pulling back from the embrace and smoothly guiding his boss until she was lying back down.
“If anything happened to him I don’t know what I’d do,” Jennifer murmured, wiping away the faint traces of tears from her cheeks.
“Nothing’s going to happen to him,” Brian stated, realizing that he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince Jennifer. “I’ve got our best agents working on it as their priority case. We’ll get to him before the perps even issue their demands.”
“But why would someone..?” Jennifer trailed off, looking to her colleague for some answers as to why her son had been kidnapped.
“I don’t know, Jen. I don’t fucking know.”
Pittsburgh - Unknown Location
9:20am
Softly laughing through his tears, Justin began to thank God, Allah, the Buddha, and anyone else who was slightly ‘deity-like’, that his heroin-clouded mind could think of, for the miraculous disappearance of his pain.
A comfortable and satisfying numbness soaked through his body making him forget absolutely everything. The bruises, the blood, and most importantly, the fear, were all distant and unimportant memories.
The feeling was reminiscent of a hideous nightmare that was slowly transforming in to a wonderful dream, anxiety ebbing away, contentment ever increasing. Justin was so consumed by his relief that he didn’t even notice that Cody had entered the room.
“Feeling better?” Cody asked, pleased that the blond was no longer piteously crying.
“Huh?” Justin swiftly looked up at the man, revelling in the feeling of being able to move his head without the room spinning. Cody didn’t repeat the question, preferring to take a drag on his newly lit joint, instead of trying to get a coherent response out of Justin.
“Oh, God, Cody. Thank you for helping me,” Justin softly whispered to his kidnapper, amazed that he could talk without coughing.
“Here, have some more water,” Cody instructed the blond, holding the cup to Justin’s lips. The younger man drank the liquid greedily, finally able to quench his relentless thirst.
“Thank you,” Justin said again, smiling at Cody contentedly.
“Don’t thank me,” Cody chastised the blond. “I’m the reason you’re in this fucking mess.” He couldn’t stand to be the recipient of Justin’s gratitude any more than he could stand to see the blond suffering unnecessarily.
“Look, I’m going to untie you, but don’t try anything ‘cause the door’s locked, okay?” Justin nodded fervently, so Cody set about releasing each of his limbs.
“Tha-” Justin managed to stop himself before he thanked Cody again, sitting up and stiffly stretching his legs as he swung them over the side of the bed. Giving Justin yet another cup of water, Cody sat down next to him, watching with contrite as the younger man quickly swallowed all of what the small cup had to offer.
As Justin handed it back, their fingers momentarily brushed together and Cody could instantaneously tell that the blond was freezing cold.
“Christ, Justin, you feel like ice,” Cody sighed, placing his arm around the blond and pulling him in close. Justin didn’t complain, but simply enjoyed the warm sensation of being pressed up against the older man’s body.
Cody may have been his abductor, but he was also the eradicator of Justin’s pain and the only source of hope that he had in this horrendous makeshift prison. The subconscious process of attachment and reliance was already taking hold of the blond and he quickly found that he felt an ever-growing sense of affection toward his kidnapper.
He unblinkingly watched as Cody took another drag from the joint, staring attentively at the smoke as it drifted out of the man’s mouth.
“Want some?” Cody asked, holding the joint out and wondering why he felt it necessary to give Justin even more of his significantly diminished stash.
The blond nodded, carefully grasping the roach in his fingers as he took a small drag, marvelling at how different it felt and tasted in comparison to a regular cigarette.
Unwilling to wait any longer for Justin’s marijuana/cigarette epiphany to be over, Cody reached forward and snatched the joint back. After realising that the darn thing had gone out, the older man let go of Justin and felt around in his pocket for a lighter.
“Do you want some more?” Cody asked huskily once the joint was re-lit. Justin nodded again, swiftly lifting his hand to take back the smouldering roach. “Not like that,” Cody breathed, running his hand down the side of the blond’s face and allowing it to rest on his chin.
Taking a long drag from the joint, Cody pulled the younger man’s face closer to his own and pressed their lips together. A surprised Justin instinctively opened his mouth as Cody blew softly, exhaling and passing the smoke.
“More?” Cody asked. Receiving an whispered ‘yes’, Cody repeated the process, letting their lips linger together for an even longer period of time. The men remained with their mouths gently touching for several minutes, exchanging the smoke back and forth, enjoying the amazing intimacy and release that it provided.
“Cody, what are you doing?” Justin suddenly exclaimed, when he realised that the older man’s hand was slowly making its way up the inside of his right thigh.
“I’m just checking to see if this is making you as hard as I am,” Cody replied, his voice hoarse with lust. Justin was about to protest, but moaned instead when Cody’s hand rubbed against the crotch of his pants, making his dick stir with the erotic friction.
Spurred on by the blond’s obvious pleasure, Cody swiftly unzipped Justin’s fly and slipped his hand inside. Justin gasped, when the warm fingers loosely grasped his steadily hardening cock and Cody’s soft mouth began to passionately kiss his lips.
The anticipation of what might happen next dripped from the blond in the form of small pre-come droplets that eased their way down the length of his dick, acting as the perfect lubrication for Cody to speed up his ministrations with.
“You like that?” Cody asked, his hand easily sliding up and down Justin’s profusely leaking cock, jerking him at a rapid pace.
“Yes,” Justin hissed, eyes closed as the older man lightly squeezed the head of his dick. The blond wasn’t quite sure how he’d gone from being a sobbing mess to a promiscuous slut in the space of less than half an hour, but Cody’s hand on his cock felt so good that he sure as hell wasn’t going to do anything to stop it.
Endorphins rushed through his body, mingling with the drugs, and maintained the feeling that everything in the world was fucking fabulous. So fucking fabulous, in fact, that Justin was almost euphoric.
His arm rested on Cody’s shoulder and he began to pant, orgasm edging ever closer with a satisfying tightening sensation in his balls. The final push of a tongue in to Justin’s mouth and a thumb dipped in to his slit sent the blond over the edge.
Gripping Cody’s loose-fitting jacket tightly in his fist, the younger man came with a stifled cry, come spurting in to his kidnapper’s hand, entirely coating the fingers.
“Oh, fuck,” Justin moaned quietly, his body going limp as he fell against Cody, utterly spent.
“Wanna return the favour?” the older man murmured in his ear, sending a shiver up Justin’s spine. He knew that it was only fair to give Cody the same sexual gratification as he had just received, especially after all the man had done for him, but he suddenly felt so God damn exhausted that all he wanted to do was sleep.
“Cody, I’m sorry, but I’m really tired,” Justin admitted, looking up at the man, his face guilt-ridden and apologetic.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to do anything,” Cody explained, throwing the remnants of the joint of the floor and licking the remaining traces of Justin’s come from his fingers. “You just have to lie there.”
“I don’t-” Justin began but was interrupted when Cody pushed him back down on the bed, using his full body weight to overpower the blond.
“I know you’ll like it,” Cody growled, yanking the younger man’s pants and underwear down. “Just let me fuck you.”
He straddled the blond’s half-naked body and kissed down Justin’s neck and throat, tenderly licking at the bruised skin. “Mmm, you taste so good,” Cody moaned, continuing his ravenous trail downwards.
“Please, Cody, don’t,” Justin whispered, not wanting this to go any farther than it already had. To receive a hand job was one thing. To get fucked was another.
“Come on, Justin. I know you want it,” Cody encouraged, as he unzipped his pants, slipping them down his legs just enough so that his own throbbing erection was released.
“Wait,” Justin begged, holding tightly on to Cody’s biceps when the older man leant over him.
“What?” Cody growled, sucking at the blond’s neck, hard enough to inflict another bruise.
“If I let you fuck me,” Justin winced, praying that his plan would work. “Then will you help me get out of here.”
“That depends,” Cody smirked.
“On what?”
“If you’re that good.” Cody used Justin’s obvious distractedness to his advantage and swiftly penetrated the blond, plunging two of his fingers in to the tight warmth of the younger man’s ass.
Eyes squinted shut in surprise and pain, Justin held on to Cody for dear life, waiting for the burning sensation of being stretched so much, without preparation, to fade.
“God, you’re so hot,” Cody mumbled, pumping his fingers in and out of the blond’s resistant hole. Gritting his teeth against the discomfort, Justin realized that he couldn’t say or do anything to upset this man, or his chances for escape would be ruined.
Instead he willed himself to relax, almost enjoying the shock of pleasure that raced through his body as Cody’s index finger nudged his prostate.
“Looks like you’re ready,” Cody observed, withdrawing his fingers from Justin’s ass and lightly running them over the blond’s semi-hard cock.
“Do it, Cody,” Justin moaned, playing up to his role. “Fuck me.” Cody didn’t need telling twice. In no time at all, he had pulled Justin’s left leg over his shoulder and was carefully positioning his pulsating cock at the blond’s hole.
With one swift push Justin’s ass begrudgingly accepted his kidnappers cock, taking every last inch of the length inside. The fleeting thought of how small Cody’s dick seemed in comparison to Brian’s passed through Justin’s mind, only to be dismissed when the blond realised that this was probably a good thing.
“Urgh, yeah, just like that,” he gritted out, when Cody began to thrust in to him, trying to convince the man with a performance worthy of winning a Crystal Dick.
It took all of his willpower to actually keep him in the moment, instead of letting his mind wander to Brian, his mother, or that fact that he was being roughly fucked without a condom.
“You’re so tight,” Cody gasped, ramming in to the blond with abandon. It didn’t take long for the older man to build himself up to the precipice of orgasm, and soon he was forcefully tugging at Justin’s cock in time with his thrusts.
“I’m so close, Cody,” Justin whimpered, trying to imagine that it was Brian who was sliding in and out of his battered hole instead, so that he could actually orgasm. The sensations of being fucked by Cody were, for the most part, pleasurable, but the blond just couldn’t bring himself to admit that something like this was happening to him.
A sudden and unexpected stab at his prostate incited the blond to moan loudly, his ass clenching tightly around the ever plunging cock inside him.
Cody’s face screwed up in pleasure, and his body jerked as orgasm took him, come spurting liberally in to Justin’s hole.
Fortunately, the sounds that poured out of Cody’s mouth while he came, and the increased pressure of the hand squeezing his dick were enough to induce the blond’s own orgasm, a few thick strands of pearly come spraying on to his stomach.
“Fuck,” Cody gasped, allowing the younger man’s trembling leg to slip from his shoulder as he collapsed forward, covering Justin’s body with his own. He lazily rolled over so that he was no longer crushing the blond’s small frame, and wetly kissed Justin on the cheek.
“That was fucking amazing,” Cody announced, wrapping his arms loosely around the blond and pulling him in to an embrace. Resting against Cody’s chest and listening to the sound of the older man’s deep breathing, Justin had only one question drifting through his mind.
What the fuck had he just done?
Pittsburgh – FBI Field Office
10:45am
“Brian!” A loud and enthusiastic voice exclaimed, stopping the FBI agent in his tracks.
“Jack,” Brian replied, not bothering to conceal his amusement and surprise when he realised who had said his name.
“It’s great to see you,” Jack declared, shaking Brian’s hand firmly, and patting him on the back, lingering slightly longer than one of the other agents would have dared to. “What’s it been? Seven, eight years since we last saw each other?”
“Or longer,” Brian marvelled, eyebrow raised in astonishment.
“What are you doing here?”
“Didn’t you hear? They made me the new Regional Director,“ Jack replied, flashing Brian his FBI ID badge as proof. “You would have thought that they’d have got a better picture considering my new status, but no such luck.”
Brian stared at the man’s FBI credential reading the clearly printed words:
Special Agent Jack Harper, Regional Director, Pittsburgh Field Office, Federal Bureau of Investigation.
He just couldn’t quite believe that fate had seemingly deliberately weaved a path so that his once beloved mentor and friend was now his boss and they would be working together again.
“Congratulations,” Brian finally complimented, snapping out of his daze and shaking Jack’s hand for the second time.
“Thanks,” Jack smiled cheerfully. “I thought I’d be stuck at the Quantico Academy educating young and innocent special agents for the rest of my life, but I guess not.”
“So that’s what you call it? ‘Educating’?” Brian smirked.
“Hey, you were the exception,” Jack laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’ll have you know that you were the only star pupil I‘ve ever… educated.”
“Why, Special Agent Harper, I’m touched,” Brian teased.
“What can I say? You came top of your class,” Jack replied, barely holding back the unprofessional wink that he wanted to give the taller man.
“So, are you up to date on all of the cases yet?” Brian asked, quickly changing the subject when an obviously eaves-dropping Ethan walked by.
“If by that you mean, ‘have I heard about Justin Taylor’s kidnapping’, then I’ve been fully briefed,” Jack remarked. “Special Agent Gold right there was kind enough to fill me in on all the details. Even the part where he suspected that you’d had sex with Mr Taylor at your loft.”
“What?” Brian exclaimed. That little shit.
“Fortunately, I informed Special Agent Gold that you were a good friend of mine, and if he made any accusations about you, without strong evidence to support his claims, I’d fire his ass so quick that he wouldn’t know what had hit him.”
“It’s fucking great to be working with you again, Jack,” Brian smirked, pleased that Special Agent Harper appeared to be as remarkable a person as the man he had known at the FBI Academy many years ago.
“Same here, Kinney,” Jack said, a barely noticeable glint in his eye.
“Christ, you’re not going to start calling me by my second name again, are you?” Brian laughed. Jack was about to reply, when Cynthia came up behind the pair, waving a piece of paper in her hand.
“Kip gave something up,” she told the men, handing Brian the piece of paper.
“What?” Brian asked, sweeping his eyes vigilantly over the case notes.
“An address,” Cynthia stated simply.
“I told you that all he needed was a little bit of persuasion,” Brian commented, smiling sadistically at the thought of Kip without pain medication.
“Do we have a tact team standing by?” Jack questioned, as Brian handed the paper to him.
“Getting ready as we speak,” Cynthia confirmed. “We’ve got the warrant and they’ll be there in twenty five minutes.”
“That’s too long,” Brian frowned. “I want them there in ten. The longer we take, the longer the perps have got to get Justin the fuck out of there.”
“Right, Brian,” Cynthia nodded, heading off to tell the tact team to hurry their asses up because Special Agent Kinney had said so.
“You’re cute when you’re bossy,” Jack remarked, walking with Brian to the armoury.
“I take it you’re coming with us then?” Brian asked flatly, removing his Armani suit jacket and hanging it up forcefully on one of the hooks, loathing the thought of being referred to as cute.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jack answered, slipping on the bullet-proof vest that Brian handed him and watching attentively as the taller man did the same with his own flack jacket.
“Handgun or rifle?” Brian questioned, holding the weapons up for Special Agent Harper to choose from.
“Both,” Jack smirked. “Come on, Brian, you know me better than that.” Brian simply rolled his eyes and handed Jack both the handgun and the rifle, watching amusedly as the man attached them about his person along with several other refills of ammunition.
“Ready?” Brian asked sarcastically, eyebrow raised as he adjusted his body armor.
“Fuck, yeah,” Special Agent Harper replied enthusiastically. As the men walked out to the already waiting cars of the tactical team, Brian hoped against hope that their mission would result in the successful and speedy retrieval of one Justin Taylor.
Pittsburgh - Schenley Heights (Residential Area)
11:20am
Brian waited miraculously patiently behind the open door of an armoured car, gazing through some binoculars and watching for any sign of life at the address that Kip had given them.
The team was a significant distance away from the house, so as not to arouse suspicion, but were definitely close enough to get to the front door in a hurry if need be.
“This is alpha, are we clear to go in yet?” Brian asked clearly in to his radio. He simply couldn’t bear to wait any longer. If Justin was in that house then he needed to get in there. Now.
A few seconds later, Brian got the confirming response that he had been eagerly waiting for.
“Alpha, you’re clear to enter the building, but be advised there are no heat sources. I repeat, no heat sources.”
“Copy that,” Brian replied in to the radio. “Let’s go,” he shouted, gesturing at the tactical team to get in position. The team quickly stalked their way up to the dilapidated house, rifles poised to shoot anything that crossed their path.
“FBI!” Brian yelled, kicking the front door down. The door broke easily, since it’s hinges were already completed rusted, falling to the floor with a loud bang, dust billowing everywhere. Jack followed closely behind Brian, as they ran through the paint-chipped doorway and in to the decrepit house.
Shouts of ‘FBI’ could be heard throughout all of the rooms as agents swarmed the building, vigilantly checking for anyone or anything that might be of importance.
“You find anything?” Jack urgently asked a member of the tact team.
“No, sir. This place is empty,” the man replied.
“Damn it,” Brian swore, kicking at the chipped skirting board and placing his gun back in it’s holster.
The tactical team slowly began to retreat from the house, having found nothing except dust and mould, and suspecting that Kip had given them a false address just so that he could get some pain relief.
Brian couldn’t fucking believe it. He was absolutely convinced that Kip would cave if his morphine was stopped. Hand cupping his chin in disbelief, the brunet took one final look around the room, praying that he would notice something that was out of place.
“Wait, look at this,” Brian suddenly exclaimed, having found that vital something that just didn’t look quite right. He knelt down on the ground and ran his hand along a noticeable ridge in the floorboards.
“It’s a door,” he breathed out, adrenaline pulsing through his body with the realisation.
“Okay, everybody stand back, weapons ready,” Jack ordered, pointing his rifle downwards so that it was aimed directly at the door. Brian swiftly withdrew his own handgun and began to lift the moveable panel up from the floor. The door swung open easily and dust swirled about the room.
“I need a flashlight,” Brian instructed, peering in to the darkness of the hole in the ground. Several beams of light were immediately directed into the shadowy doorway, revealing a set of crumbling stairs and, what appeared to be, another room down below.
Brian cautiously made his way down the staircase, gun steadied in both hands, and Jack covering him from behind. Finding a light switch at the bottom of the stairs, the brunet warily pressed it, filling the room with an almost blinding array of light. Rapidly blinking against the harsh brightness, Brian got his first clear look at the room.
“Fuck,” he hissed quietly, staring at the far wall of the basement in horror. Hundreds upon hundreds of photographs, documents and maps covered the entire surface, stuck to the wall with dirty thumbtacks.
“Brian what’s going on? Holy shit!” Jack exclaimed, taking in the room’s appearance. Brian continued to stare in disbelief as his own photographed face stared right back.
It was as if his entire life had become some sort of macabre exhibition. His apartment building, his loft, his jeep, Babylon, Woody’s, the Field Office and the Liberty diner, were all precisely displayed on the wall, along with a vast assortment of papers listing age, address, birthday, telephone number, and even how fucking often he went to get his hair cut.
Getting over the initial surprise, Brian began to notice that his wasn’t the only information that was so thoughtfully presented. Jennifer was there too, and Justin and…
“Brian, what’s that matter?” Jack asked, seeing Brian’s face drop, absolute terror obscuring his eyes for the first time since the investigation had begun.
“That’s Gus,” Brian swallowed tensely, his throat suddenly turning dry as he pointed at one of the photographs. “He’s my son.”