melissas_corner: (Horatio/Speed)
[personal profile] melissas_corner
Author’s Notes: Okay, there are a few things you need to know before you read this. First, this was whispered into my ear sometime ago, but it left me before I could write anything down. And then I got the biggest scare of my life when Speed started talking to me, at work no less. I have never heard a muse this loudly before. I really thought Speed was standing just out of my sight talking to me about this. Second, this contains several firsts for me: one, I’ve never written slash, two, it’s my first time writing this fandom, and third, this is the first fic I’ve ever finished and is only the third story I’ve listened to a muse about. So even though it's actually the third in the series it was the first one I wrote. When I started rewriting the story that comes after this one my muses decided I needed to write Mother's Day and then Now Comes the Night to show Horatio's side of the 'courtship'.

Speed’s POV

I’ve often wondered if there was a 12-step program for my particular addiction. Somehow, I don’t think so. Ya see, I’m addicted to my boss, Horatio Caine. I’m not really sure when it happened, but I can’t eat, can’t sleep and can barely work because thoughts of him keep running through my mind. I might be able to get some work done if I didn’t have to work beside him at all. Unfortunately for me, these days he seems to want me to be right at his side.

I’m almost convinced that if I could just get one taste of him, I could get him out of my system. The question then becomes, how do I get my one taste of him? Ya see, I’m pretty sure that Horatio is straight and I’m …well I’m not sure what I am. I don’t think I’m gay, at least I’ve never been attracted to other men before him. There’s just something about him that makes me want to… well I’m sure you can guess what I want to do to him.

Okay, maybe I just have to step back and treat this like any other puzzle that needs solving. I’ve had addiction problems before, so I know I can kick this if I try hard enough.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding? There is no way I’m going to kick this particular addiction without some professional help. Unfortunately, I don’t know anyone who specializes in this type of addiction.

It’s been about six months since I first realized that what I thought were, for the most part, harmless wet dreams, were, in reality, indications of a full-blown addiction. I mean the kind where if I’m out of his company for more than 72 hours, I’m going through withdrawal, with all of the accompanying symptoms. Shaking so bad, I feel as if there’s an earthquake happening under my feet, sweating through my shirt, and, man, the irritability; please don’t get me started.

The last time he took vacation, okay, he was on medical leave with the flu, but still, he was out for almost a week, I thought I’d have to admit myself into the psych ward of the hospital. Yeah, that would have gone over real well with my coworkers, especially Eric. I could just hear the conversation, ‘Why ya in here man?’ ‘I’m going through withdrawal.’ ‘Withdrawal from what?’ ‘Our boss.’ Yeah, no. Not going there.

Just when I get it under control, as we drive out to the latest scene, he pops this CD in and out comes this song I swear I could have written. I didn’t know who it was at first, but I made damned sure to find out once I was near a computer and the internet. Turns out it was Kelly Clarkson, ya know the first winner of American Idol? Yeah, didn’t think he’d have one of her CDs, must have been left in his Hummer by Ray Jr. Anyway, I found out the words and of course downloaded it. It’s called Addicted and it pretty much describes everything I’ve been feeling lately.

I’ve taken to humming it around the office, subconsciously, of course. But when I'm alone, I really belt it out.

Then one day the unthinkable happens; he catches me singing it.

I’m sure I’m alone in the shower room, so I turn it up and sing to my heart’s content while thinking about him and stroking myself.

I have this fantasy where we start out cleaning our guns together like we’ve been doing since Dispo Day and then Horatio leans over to whisper in my ear... I turn my head just in time to brush my lips against his... The kiss that follows is so damn hot... We start off slow and then get more and more desperate until I think I’m gonna explode if he doesn’t fuck me soon... Just when I think all he wants to do is kiss and touch, he tells me to strip or he’ll do it for me… I hesitate just long enough for him to take control… He takes his time, touching me everywhere... His oily hands hot brands on my skin…

Just as I feel my orgasm start to build, I sense someone behind me. ‘Oh please not Horatio. Anyone but him!’ I silently beg whatever deity might be listening. I look over my shoulder and it’s him!

Oh god, I think I’m going to die.

At least I know for certain I haven’t said his name, I know this because I was singing the song. I started singing it so that I wouldn’t gasp his name as I climax. Of course, I probably shouldn’t be masturbating on the job, but everyone’s done it once or twice, especially in our line of work. Ya really just need to unwind some times, before ya can go home to the mundane world, know what I mean?

So anyway, there we are, staring at each other, both trying to ignore my raging hard on and the fact that I’ve been caught not only jerking off at work, but jerking to a Kelly Clarkson song!

“So, how… um…how long ya been standing there, H?” I ask as casually as I can.

“Long enough,” he says. Oh, that’s real helpful. I try to think back to before I stepped under the shower. Did I say anything that might give me away? Could he have seen or heard if I did?

“So, do you need help with that?” he asks.

“What?” I must have heard him wrong.

There’s no way Horatio Caine could have just offered to help me get off. No way in hell.

“Would you like me to help you do something about that?” he asks again, this time pointing to my erect dick. My dick, of course, thinks it is wonderful of him to offer and gets even harder.

“Um… wha…what did you… um… Whatdidyouhaveinmind?” I say it all at once just so I don’t stumble over the words. God, I feel like I’m back in high school and my crush has just asked if I’d like to make out with her.

“Well, I thought I’d start by getting undressed and joining you. Then, well, we’d take it from there.” He has his hands on his hips and his head cocked to the side, just like when he sees a piece of evidence that intrigues him. “Or better yet, why don’t you come out and we’ll go to my place? Hm?”

Man, remind me to never break the law in Horatio Caine’s town. No wonder his suspects always confess. He has this real intense look that reminds me of Mrs. Douglas, my fifth and sixth grade teacher. Never could get away with anything in her class.

“Are you com…going to…” he’s obviously having a difficult time asking if I’m going to leave the shower without saying the word ‘come’. And I’m not in the mood to help him out of his misery, at least not yet. He’s been standing there, for who knows how long, watching me masturbate, and didn’t say anything. And besides, he's cute when he gets flustered, which happens so rarely.

“Am I going to…what?” I ask as I turn around to face him. My erection has deflated a little, just enough that it’s no longer urgent. “Come?” I grin as a bright red flush rushes up his neck and into his cheeks. He drops his gaze and I feel it land on my dick, which grows harder again under his obvious approval.

“Yeah.” he sighs, so softly I almost don’t hear him.

“Not any time soon,” I say. “So, back to your place so you can help me with this and I can help you with that?” I ask as I point to the tent growing in his pants. A grin and a quick turn on his heel are my answer.

“You’d better hurry or I’ll start without you!” he calls out as I hear the doors to the shower open and close.

I’m dressed and on my bike in under ten minutes. I know where he lives; we all do. He has the whole team over for Christmas every year. I’m pretty sure I broke just about every speed law there is, but I make it to his house as he’s unlocking his front door. He looks at me with one eyebrow raised as if to say ‘Please tell me you didn’t just break the law?’

All I can do is grin at him.

He chuckles as he opens the door and motions for me to lead the way inside.

As soon as he closes the door behind us, I have my back pressed up against it as he tries to swallow my tonsils, or would, if I still had them. I moan and return the kiss for all I’m worth.

“Bedroom, now,” he growls as we come up for air.

“Mmmm,” is all I can say, even if my mouth wasn’t full of his tongue.

We strip each other as we make our way down the hall to the bedroom. I’d really love to see the body I’ve been fantasizing about for half a year now, but kissing him is just so hot. Once we’re both naked and standing next to the bed, he pulls back and I can’t help but think, ‘Oh no. This is where he tells me it’s all been a joke, or that he’s changed his mind and doesn’t really want me.’ But he just looks me over from head to toe and I do the same. God, but he’s perfect. His chest is covered in a thin mat of rust colored hair, his cock erect and curving gracefully up towards his belly. He must have thought I was too because when he finally looks me in the eyes, all I can see is desire and an emotion I’m not ready to identify yet.

“I want to fuck you. Will you let me?” he asks it so softly, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll say no. And that’s when it hits me. He’s having the same doubts about me that I’m having about him. Horatio Caine is afraid I’ll turn him down.

“I’ve never…with a man before.” I can’t stop the blush that creeps up my torso as I make that confession.

“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“No, you don’t understand. I want to, I’ve just never done that before. Hell, I’ve never even kissed a man before.” The smile this earns me is almost blinding in its intensity.

“I’ve never had a virgin before. And knowing that I’m your first kiss as well, wow.”

His smile is making me feel all kinds of things inside that I’m really not ready to examine just yet, so I pull his lips down to mine so I can kiss him some more.

“Mmm. Yummy. I love the way you taste.” he murmurs as we break for air once again. “Can’t get enough. Might just have to keep you tied to my bed all weekend.”

I’d almost forgotten that this was our weekend off. I’m doing a little happy dance in my head. I could definitely spend the entire weekend with him, in bed, happily doing all the things I’d been dreaming about for months now.

After what feels like an eternity, he pushes me back onto the bed and crawls over me to lie on top of me. My body burns everywhere we touch. We both hiss every time our cocks come into contact with each other.

“So, can I fuck you?” he asks again.

“Oh, god yes, please.” I’m so close I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it much longer.

“On your hands and knees, baby. It’ll hurt less that way,” he whispers in my ear before licking the outer edge.

I shiver at the sensation and roll over like he asks. As soon as I have my ass in the air, I feel his hands stroke up the outside of my thighs, up over my hips and onto my cheeks. He places tiny little kisses all over and the thought of Horatio Caine kissing my ass makes me giggle. I really can’t help it. He’s quite literally kissing my ass!

“Ticklish?” he asks.

“No. Just the thought of someone like you kissing my ass. It’s kind of funny, ya know?”

“Hm. Yeah it is,” he replies with a chuckle. “Now I’ve got to stretch you so it won’t hurt so much. Okay?”

“Yeah sure. Just get on with it, will ya?” I’m trying my hardest not to squirm. Waiting for him to enter me is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I know he’s right. If he doesn’t prepare me properly, it will hurt like a bitch. And I don’t want my, our first time to be anything but wonderful.

Then I feel something cold and slippery touch my crack and I can’t help but flinch. “Sorry.” he murmurs.

“S’okay.” I gasp as I feel his finger rub against my hole. I can’t believe that we’re doing this.

I hiss at the burn as he slips it in. “Breathe,” he encourages. “Just remember to breathe.” Easy for him to say. He doesn’t have someone’s finger in his ass! When the pain starts to lessen, he slips a second finger in and I can’t bite back the cry of pain.

“Sorry. Sorry. I thought you were ready.” He just holds his fingers in me as he gently strokes my lower back all the while murmuring nonsensical words of encouragement. When I start to relax a little, he moves his fingers and the gasp that draws from me is one of pleasure. “See, told you it would be good,” he chuckles against my lower back.

“More. Please. I need more,” I whimper. I know I am begging, but can’t seem to help it.

“Okay, just hold on, baby,” he’s been twisting and scissoring his fingers, but now he shoves them in a little farther and curls them…and the pleasure I feel is so intense, I almost come right then. “Uh-uh. Not yet, baby. I want to be inside of you when you come,” he says as he gives the base of my dick a squeeze. “That was your prostate. Felt good, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” I moan. “Please do that again.”

“Not yet.” he says again, as he kisses his way up my back.

I can’t stop the groan when he removes his fingers and replaces them with his dick. “Just remember to breathe,” he tells me as he slowly pushes inside. The pain’s not as bad as I had feared. He seems to take a really long time to enter me. Stopping every few inches to reassure me and remind me to breathe. “That’s it, baby, I’m all the way in,” he finally says, a note of awe in his voice.

I can’t believe he’s inside me. I feel so full, like I’m ready to burst and then he starts to move. His thrusts are slow and long at first, but as the pain lessens and I begin to move with him, his thrusts become faster and harder and more erratic. I can’t stand it anymore and reach under myself to stroke my dick, only to have my hand slapped away and his stroke me in time to his thrusts. Before long we’re both crying out our release. He collapses on top of me and we lay there for an eternity before our breathing calms and our heart rates return to normal.

“I have a confession to make,” he says as he rolls off me and pulls me into his side, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

“Yeah?” I prompt when he doesn’t continue.

“Yeah. I’ve been wanting to do this for quite some time, now.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

“Yeah. You know that song that I played the other day?”

“The one I was singing tonight?”

“Yeah. I heard it at a club and thought of you.”

“Yeah. It made me think of saying something like what alcoholics say at AA meetings.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“Hi, my name’s Tim and I’m addicted to Horatio Caine.” And I kiss him.


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