Coffee Break

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Brian Rafe shifted in his chair, trying desperately to keep his eyes on the file he was studying. It was a lost cause, he knew, the case was old and stale and about to be consigned to "unsolved, but forever open". There was no way that it could keep his attention. Not with... He jerked suddenly, pulling his eyes away from Ellison's desk.

Smiling wryly, he remembered the last time he'd been unable to keep his eyes where they belonged. Could it really have happened? He knew it had, that less than a week ago he and Ellison and Blair Sandburg had begun the most amazing twenty-four hours of his life, less than fifteen feet (sort of) from where he now sat. His dreams, wild and hot and hopelessly unattainable, had come true. All of them.

He shivered at the memories that filled him, suddenly aware that his gaze was once more fixed across the room. Jim Ellison sat at his desk, unaware of Rafe's longing, unconcernedly working on his own caseload. Blair was at the University, Rafe knew. Wouldn't be in at all today, Jim had replied when Henri asked. So the other detective would be in the office all day, probably. He seemed to get most of his desk work done when his partner wasn't there.

Rafe sighed quietly, his eyes fixed upon his file. Twenty-four hours of heaven, followed by this hell, he thought wearily. Neither Jim or Blair had made any move to acknowledge what the three men had shared, and, confused and miserable, Rafe had followed their lead. He wished, guiltily, for a new case, something going down that would take precedence over the unsolved murder. Something to get him out of the bullpen and away from what he couldn't have.

Hearing the tiny sound across the room, Jim flicked a glance at its source. Inhaling, he smiled slightly at the confirmation he found in the air. Blair was right. As usual, he thought indulgently. They'd let this go on long enough, waiting for Rafe to come to them. He wouldn't, for whatever reason. It was time.

Rising, he stretched leisurely, outwardly ignoring the increased heart rate near the door, his anticipation growing as he sensed the other man's arousal. Oh, yeah, he thought. It was definitely time.

Picking up the case file he'd been studying, he headed to Simon's office. Sticking his head through the door, he grinned at his boss. Simon scowled at him, then reluctantly returned the smile.

Jim shook his head. "Nothing, Simon." At the skeptical look, he smiled again. "I just thought I'd head up to the eighth floor and spread this thing out in that conference room. I feel like there's something missing, and if I can just get a handle on it, I'll be able to figure out what's going on."

"No, it's empty. The whole floor seems to be unoccupied today - no big meetings going on?"

"None that I was informed of, anyway." Simon chewed at his cigar, and Jim was again grateful for the no smoking policy. "Sandburg coming in?"

"That's too bad. He might be able to get a different perspective on this thing."

Jim seized the opening. "Actually, sir, I thought that would be a good idea, myself. The different perspective, I mean. I thought I'd pull Rafe off the Denton murder and see if he could spot something."

Simon looked thoughtful. "Worth a try, I suppose. There are no leads on that murder, and it's going to have to get downgraded anyway. Yeah, go ahead."

The police Captain just waved a hand irritably as he turned back to his own over piled desk. Jim shook his head as he turned from the office door. Simon needed a break, he thought. A vacation. Maybe they could drag him off fishing again, soon. As his eyes fell upon Rafe, though, all thought of his friend faded into the background.

Lost in his own misery, Rafe failed to hear Jim's approach until the senior detective spoke. Unable to meet Jim's eyes, he nodded at the request, tossing the file he held onto his desk. Determined to act professionally, he fought back his emotions during the elevator ride, finally able to look at Jim as they reached the conference room.

"So the drugs are being funneled through several ports, then combined, moved as one shipment, then redivided, right?"

Jim nodded, pushing the door open and gesturing to Rafe to enter the room. Rafe whistled as he saw the furnishings. "Wow. How come we don't get stuff like this?" He crossed the room, running his fingers appreciatively over the smoothly polished table before sinking into the overstuffed leather chair at the end with a shake of his head. Looking back to the door, he gasped as he met Jim's eyes.

Jim smiled at him slowly, and Rafe shuddered as he recognized that look. Still smiling, Jim reached behind himself, locking the door. Rafe jumped at the abrupt click.

"J - Jim?" he questioned, moistening his lips as the other man paced toward him.

"Yes, Brian?" Jim's voice was low, almost a purr, and Rafe swallowed hard, unable to speak as Jim came closer. The big man chuckled.

Rafe met Jim's eyes steadily as he nodded. "You and Blair... you didn't say anything."

Jim tilted his head slightly as he reached a hand down and pulled Rafe to his feet. "We were waiting for you. When it became clear that you weren't going to approach us, we decided we didn't want to keep waiting."

The other detective pulled Rafe closer to him, and Rafe groaned as he felt the heat of that big body against his. Raising his eyes, he looked at Jim. "I don't want to come between you and Blair."

"Are we back to that?" Jim sighed. "You can't, Brian. No one could. But we want you. Do you still want us?"

"Hell, yes," Rafe breathed, unable to resist his own desires. He moaned as Jim's mouth came down on his, hard and bruising and seductive. Swaying forward, he molded his body to Jim's, pushing against him desperately. Jim's kiss was possessive, devouring, and Rafe reveled in it. Wrapping his arms around the man holding him, he kissed back with all the pent-up passion he'd been feeling.

Jim took him, exploring his mouth as thoroughly, as slowly, as carefully as he wanted, ignoring Rafe's obvious demands for more, faster. Pulling back, he chuckled as Rafe leaned against him, breathing heavily.

"Who said anything about teasing, Brian?" The bigger man's voice was dark and hot, promises clear within it. He laughed at Rafe's surprised look. Reaching out, Jim unbuttoned Rafe's shirt quickly, hands brushing against sensitized skin, making Rafe shiver. Pulling the cloth off, Jim leaned forward, nipping at one erect nipple, then moving to the other before Rafe's gasp died away.

"Mmmm?" Jim licked delicately at the tiny hurt, and Rafe moaned. On edge for days, he had been half-aroused since Jim had entered the bullpen. The stimulation to his nipples was going straight to his cock, and his erection pushed painfully at his pants. He groaned as Jim's hand ghosted over the cloth and he grew harder.

"God, yes!" Rafe fumbled with his belt, his hands unsteady as Jim sucked at his nipple. The nearly painful suction kept him riding the edge, and he swayed as Jim switched back to the other. "Jim, damnit!"

Chuckling, Jim pushed his hands aside, undoing the belt with practiced ease. Popping the button, he slid the zipper down carefully, and Rafe sighed with relief as the pressure on his erect penis lessened, only to shake with need when Jim grasped him lightly. Thrusting involuntarily into Jim's hand, he moaned in disappointment as it was withdrawn.

Jim kissed him again, his hands pushing his pants down, the briefs soon following. Rafe attempted to move closer to Jim's body, only to be held still by a firm grip. He could just touch Jim, and the light brush of clothing against his naked form was driving him crazy.

Gently turning him, Jim pushed him forward until he stood before the chair he'd sat in earlier. Uncertain of what Jim wanted, Rafe looked over his shoulder. He bit his lip as he saw the intensity of Jim's expression.

"Lean forward," Jim ordered softly. Shaking with need, Rafe obeyed, bracing himself on the thick arms of the leather chair.

Obeying again, Rafe shuddered as the position left him open, exposed. He knew, now, what was about to happen. Even so, he jumped at the first touch, a light, teasing stroke down his curved back and in between his buttocks. He cried out as the finger pressed against his opening.

Jim's voice was even, light almost, but Rafe could hear the tight control in it. He laughed jerkily. "Oh, yeah," he managed to answer.

The finger left him, and Rafe bit back a moan. He leaned heavily on the chair, head hanging, and waited for the next touch. Instead he heard a rustling behind him.

He relaxed at the absolute assurance in Jim's voice, tiny shudders of anticipation chasing themselves over his skin as he realized that Jim was undressing. A tiny portion of his mind wondered madly at what they were doing and where, but the rest of him didn't care. And that tiny portion vanished at the next touch.

Jim's hand ran over his back, curving down to caress his flanks as the other hand pushed against his center. Cool slickness entered him and he moved backwards, wanting more. Jim laughed quietly and obliged him. Two fingers moved within him and he groaned, the stretching still new to him. Moving slowly, tenderly, Jim opened the tight muscle, waiting until Rafe was again pushing back, eager for more, to slip the third finger within his body.

Rafe cried out as the third finger bumped against his prostate, the sensation shooting through him. He pushed against Jim's hand frantically, begging for more with a series of moans. Jim pulled his hand out, and Rafe stifled the wail of protest at the loss of stimulation. He waited, gasping for breath.

Crying out again, he felt the tip of Jim's cock pushing against him, the engorged tip burning as it popped through the ring of muscle. Pushing back madly, he felt Jim slip deeper inside him, the other man's flesh burning hot as he finally settled against his ass. Jim groaned as he withdrew, sliding in again as Rafe met his thrust frantically.

"So good," Jim gasped, his movements, at first steady, becoming faster, harder. Craving more, Rafe shifted his weight onto one hand, reaching with the other to touch himself, only to hear Jim's low growl.

Impossibly, Rafe felt himself grow harder at the demand, and he pulled his grip away, supporting himself again on both hands. Jim's thrusts were deeper, harder, longer than before, and Rafe met them eagerly, wanting this, needing this desperately. Suddenly Jim thrust savagely into him and cried out, still thrusting erratically as he came.

Rafe tightened his muscles as Jim collapsed against him, supporting both their weights briefly. After a few minutes, Jim pulled back, withdrawing slowly from Rafe's body. Standing, Rafe turned to watch him as he removed the condom. His own cock arched high and tight against his belly, weeping continuously as he studied the other man's body. Jim looked up at him and smiled.

Rafe's smile widened. "I can do that," he said. As Jim moved toward the chair, he shook his head. "Not there."

Jim looked at him for a moment, then nodded his head. Taking the few steps needed, he stood by the table and looked back at Rafe. Rafe watched him, his hand stroking himself slowly. Obviously coming to a decision, Jim bent forward over the table, stretching his arms across to grasp the other edge. Rafe gasped at the sight before him.

Moving toward Jim slowly, Rafe scooped up the lube from the floor, finding the condoms near it. Readying himself, he stepped up behind Jim, snapping the flip-top open.

"Blair did that already. This morning, before I came in." Rafe exhaled slowly, the thought of Blair readying Jim impossibly erotic. "He knew about this?"

Shaking his head, Rafe reached out, testing Jim. Not that he doubted, but he would not hurt the other man. Jim hissed as Rafe's fingers slid in, his hips moving backward in blatant invitation. Rafe closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and struggled to maintain control. He wanted this to be good for Jim too.

After a moment, he stepped forward, fitting himself to Jim's opening and sliding in slowly. Jim gasped as Rafe entered him, hips lifting as he met Rafe's thrust. Slowly, slowly, Rafe withdrew, the glide and pressure along his cock unbelievably good. He pushed forward again, aware of Jim's renewed sounds at the other man became hard once more.

With control he'd never thought he'd have, Rafe made love to Jim tenderly, carefully, tormenting the other man with teasing nips and light touches. Jim writhed beneath him, gasping as Rafe continued far longer than he'd ever thought possible. Finally, the other man came a second time, his body clenching around Rafe. Buffeted by his own need and Jim's orgasm, Rafe emptied himself into Jim.

The quiet voice entered his consciousness, and Rafe groaned as he opened his eyes. He lay slumped across Jim, his body limp.

"Uh." Rafe managed to push himself up, pulling out of Jim slowly. Jim moved his hands, standing up with a wince.

Stretching to limber up, the bigger man gathered their clothes, handing Rafe's to his with a smile and a light kiss. Rafe dressed silently, wondering what would happen now. Jim looked over at him, shirt still unbuttoned, and smiled.

"Uh, yeah." Watching Jim walk to the conference room door as he finished buttoning his shirt, Rafe felt sad, cold. This hadn't changed anything, really. Cleaning the table up, he began to spread out the case file. It was, after all, the reason they were up there. The door opened again, and he looked up as Jim walked into the room carrying two mugs and a plate of pastries. He tried to return Jim's smile, then returned to arranging the papers.