A Kiss is Just a Kiss.....
My first KE fic, and the first fic I've written in about a year. Nothing earth-shattering, but I had fun with it. Eddie/Monty, and rated R I suppose, for those ever-interesting "sexual situations", but without any actual sex ;-)
A Kiss is Just a Kiss
by
Anne Fairchild
When it came, it was completely unexpected. As much as he’d begun to fantasize about it and then deny to himself that he was, he never really thought it would happen…and certainly not like this.
It had been a good day, actually. The stakeout had gone well, and they’d arrested the bad guys for once. He might have said it had gone as planned, except that it hadn’t, exactly. They’d had a lot of time to kill, sitting there in the car. There had been the typical giving each other the mickey, or ragging on each other, in Eddie-speak. He’d confessed to Eddie that his latest relationship was causing him some sleepless nights. Another partner making ‘taking you home to meet the parents’ noises. Eddie laughed at his use of the word ‘relationship’, and there was something unsettling, something knowing about the sidelong glance which accompanied his snort of laughter.
That’s when it started. He’d felt himself getting uncomfortably hard. Harder each time Eddie looked directly at him. He knew he was flushed, and he hoped Eddie didn’t notice.
God, he’d thought he had a handle on it. Thought he’d managed very well since he’d joined the Yard, keeping his hormones in a tidy little box that would remain securely fastened, thank you. All of that had had to stop, or his career would have been over before it began. His forays into swapping had begun, and his effort to convince all and sundry that he was the very model of an uber-straight swinger, always on the prowl. He knew it had worked, knew his mates and superiors bought it, and he relaxed a little.
But what had it gotten him? A solid position on a good team, and respect from his superiors, that’s what. But he was living a lie, no matter how closely he came to believing it himself a time or two. He was a fraud, and there was a hole in his life the size of the Chunnel.
Then Eddie had dropped into his life. Okay, maybe it was Fate, but it was also hell. He’d been attracted to the American from the beginning. Who wouldn’t be? But he’d managed to keep a nice tight lid on that box all the same…until the past couple of weeks.
Was it because they’d ended up spending more time in close quarters with each other? Because they were also spending some off-duty time together, by mutual consent? Or was it because of those looks he caught Eddie giving him…sometimes amused, sometimes almost speculative, other times…well, those indefinable glances had caused him to break out into a cold sweat and wish his tailor hadn’t fitted his trousers so tight…like right now.
He’d shifted his weight and tried to loosen his tie, hoping Eddie wouldn’t see that he was sweating when people walking by were wearing overcoats and woollen scarves. Finally, Eddie had launched into a tale of woe of his own, featuring some dreadful thing Pete had done in the flat and Fiona’s horrified reaction. He’d teased Eddie rudely, and the pressure, literally and figuratively, slowly bled away and he could breathe again. Yet Pippin still had the feeling that Eddie knew…and this time, he wasn’t sure whether he minded or not.
The next several hours were given over to the adrenaline rush of the chase and the collar, as Eddie called it. The suspects had been smartly nabbed and taken off to the Yard. Since their cases rarely went so smoothly, both of them were in high spirits, a bit giddy.
Pippin headed his car in the direction of Eddie and Fiona’s flat, figuring he’d drop the American off, and go home and have a solitary wank. Eddie, however, wanted to buy him a pint in the dark, wood-paneled recesses of the neighborhood pub. Fair enough, they both deserved one. Or two. Pippin lost count after two. He lost track of everything but Eddie’s very blue eyes. It was probably his imagination, but the American’s voice seemed softer, huskier, and he was a bit more touchy-feely than usual.
Damn that. Eddie’s hand, warm and friendly on Pippin’s shoulder, felt as if it might burn through the Savile Row suit. Monty wanted to back away, to distance himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Eddie Arlette was flirting with him, and he didn’t want it to stop. He actually allowed himself to respond, though he knew he was being as awkward and bashful as a 16 year old.
The barmaid had just brought them each another pint and gone back to the bar. Eddie took a healthy swig of his, put it down, and looked at Pippin. Just looked…and it was definitely one of those looks-but only for a moment. Pippin felt Eddie’s hand at the small of his back, and had only a split second to register that Eddie was going to kiss him. In the bar. My God.
Monty was shocked at how gentle a kiss it was, how tender and--God, intimate. Very much more intimate-and terrifying--because of its gentleness. Would he have protested…would he have backed away, spluttering with indignation, if Eddie had attempted a rough and ready tonsil swabbing? Maybe. Probably. Who the hell knew? But this kiss…this kiss broke the dam.
Pippin’s lips parted. Eddie tasted of Guinness and the vinegar of the crisps they’d been snacking on. Monty’s eyes closed and he inhaled, deeply. Eddie smelled of crisp winter air, soap and…Eddie. Oh Jesus, this couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t….what if someone he knew saw them…
Eddie softly stroked his back, soothing. The kiss lasted an eternity…or was it only a few seconds? Finally, with a last tender nip at his lower lip, Eddie let him go and sat back.
Pippin’s heart was pounding, his cock weeping. He was incapable of speech or movement for a long moment, and when he could finally manage something, it was nothing more than “Ah……”
“I’d better get home and feed Pete. He’ll find some way of making me pay for being late. I’m on my own for a few days. Fiona’s in Paris.”
Pippin still couldn’t respond.
Eddie looked unsure now, doubtful. His smile was tentative, and he only said “I can walk from here. And…I…uh…I’m sorry if…g’night, Pip,” he mumbled, rising. He threw some money on the table, gave Pippin’s shoulder an awkward pat, and disappeared.
He was gone a full ten minutes before Monty came to himself and could register what had just happened and what it might mean. What he could do about it, if he chose. Eddie had kissed him--a kiss such as he’d never dared dream of receiving from any man, let alone his American partner. It promised so much. All it might take was the courage to walk up to Eddie’s front door and knock. Fiona out of town, was she? Had Eddie planned this? If he had…. Dear God, could Eddie really want him? What an amazing thought. Pippin grinned, but the grin quickly faded.
It meant risking his career for an American cop he’d only known for six months, who would be going back to New York one day…maybe soon. The promise of that kiss, vs. everything that he’d convinced himself was important to him.
What did he really know about Eddie anyway? Maybe he had a dozen guys on the string, here and back in New York. Ah, but that painful flash of doubt when he left the table. The warmth in those blue eyes…the honesty.
Monty rose slowly and left the pub, not sure until he hit the pavement whether his legs were going to take him to his car or in the direction of Eddie’s flat.
To say he was nervous was the understatement of the century. He was mad, completely mad. Yet the look on Eddie’s face when he opened the door was worth everything.
A Kiss is Just a Kiss
by
Anne Fairchild
When it came, it was completely unexpected. As much as he’d begun to fantasize about it and then deny to himself that he was, he never really thought it would happen…and certainly not like this.
It had been a good day, actually. The stakeout had gone well, and they’d arrested the bad guys for once. He might have said it had gone as planned, except that it hadn’t, exactly. They’d had a lot of time to kill, sitting there in the car. There had been the typical giving each other the mickey, or ragging on each other, in Eddie-speak. He’d confessed to Eddie that his latest relationship was causing him some sleepless nights. Another partner making ‘taking you home to meet the parents’ noises. Eddie laughed at his use of the word ‘relationship’, and there was something unsettling, something knowing about the sidelong glance which accompanied his snort of laughter.
That’s when it started. He’d felt himself getting uncomfortably hard. Harder each time Eddie looked directly at him. He knew he was flushed, and he hoped Eddie didn’t notice.
God, he’d thought he had a handle on it. Thought he’d managed very well since he’d joined the Yard, keeping his hormones in a tidy little box that would remain securely fastened, thank you. All of that had had to stop, or his career would have been over before it began. His forays into swapping had begun, and his effort to convince all and sundry that he was the very model of an uber-straight swinger, always on the prowl. He knew it had worked, knew his mates and superiors bought it, and he relaxed a little.
But what had it gotten him? A solid position on a good team, and respect from his superiors, that’s what. But he was living a lie, no matter how closely he came to believing it himself a time or two. He was a fraud, and there was a hole in his life the size of the Chunnel.
Then Eddie had dropped into his life. Okay, maybe it was Fate, but it was also hell. He’d been attracted to the American from the beginning. Who wouldn’t be? But he’d managed to keep a nice tight lid on that box all the same…until the past couple of weeks.
Was it because they’d ended up spending more time in close quarters with each other? Because they were also spending some off-duty time together, by mutual consent? Or was it because of those looks he caught Eddie giving him…sometimes amused, sometimes almost speculative, other times…well, those indefinable glances had caused him to break out into a cold sweat and wish his tailor hadn’t fitted his trousers so tight…like right now.
He’d shifted his weight and tried to loosen his tie, hoping Eddie wouldn’t see that he was sweating when people walking by were wearing overcoats and woollen scarves. Finally, Eddie had launched into a tale of woe of his own, featuring some dreadful thing Pete had done in the flat and Fiona’s horrified reaction. He’d teased Eddie rudely, and the pressure, literally and figuratively, slowly bled away and he could breathe again. Yet Pippin still had the feeling that Eddie knew…and this time, he wasn’t sure whether he minded or not.
The next several hours were given over to the adrenaline rush of the chase and the collar, as Eddie called it. The suspects had been smartly nabbed and taken off to the Yard. Since their cases rarely went so smoothly, both of them were in high spirits, a bit giddy.
Pippin headed his car in the direction of Eddie and Fiona’s flat, figuring he’d drop the American off, and go home and have a solitary wank. Eddie, however, wanted to buy him a pint in the dark, wood-paneled recesses of the neighborhood pub. Fair enough, they both deserved one. Or two. Pippin lost count after two. He lost track of everything but Eddie’s very blue eyes. It was probably his imagination, but the American’s voice seemed softer, huskier, and he was a bit more touchy-feely than usual.
Damn that. Eddie’s hand, warm and friendly on Pippin’s shoulder, felt as if it might burn through the Savile Row suit. Monty wanted to back away, to distance himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Eddie Arlette was flirting with him, and he didn’t want it to stop. He actually allowed himself to respond, though he knew he was being as awkward and bashful as a 16 year old.
The barmaid had just brought them each another pint and gone back to the bar. Eddie took a healthy swig of his, put it down, and looked at Pippin. Just looked…and it was definitely one of those looks-but only for a moment. Pippin felt Eddie’s hand at the small of his back, and had only a split second to register that Eddie was going to kiss him. In the bar. My God.
Monty was shocked at how gentle a kiss it was, how tender and--God, intimate. Very much more intimate-and terrifying--because of its gentleness. Would he have protested…would he have backed away, spluttering with indignation, if Eddie had attempted a rough and ready tonsil swabbing? Maybe. Probably. Who the hell knew? But this kiss…this kiss broke the dam.
Pippin’s lips parted. Eddie tasted of Guinness and the vinegar of the crisps they’d been snacking on. Monty’s eyes closed and he inhaled, deeply. Eddie smelled of crisp winter air, soap and…Eddie. Oh Jesus, this couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t….what if someone he knew saw them…
Eddie softly stroked his back, soothing. The kiss lasted an eternity…or was it only a few seconds? Finally, with a last tender nip at his lower lip, Eddie let him go and sat back.
Pippin’s heart was pounding, his cock weeping. He was incapable of speech or movement for a long moment, and when he could finally manage something, it was nothing more than “Ah……”
“I’d better get home and feed Pete. He’ll find some way of making me pay for being late. I’m on my own for a few days. Fiona’s in Paris.”
Pippin still couldn’t respond.
Eddie looked unsure now, doubtful. His smile was tentative, and he only said “I can walk from here. And…I…uh…I’m sorry if…g’night, Pip,” he mumbled, rising. He threw some money on the table, gave Pippin’s shoulder an awkward pat, and disappeared.
He was gone a full ten minutes before Monty came to himself and could register what had just happened and what it might mean. What he could do about it, if he chose. Eddie had kissed him--a kiss such as he’d never dared dream of receiving from any man, let alone his American partner. It promised so much. All it might take was the courage to walk up to Eddie’s front door and knock. Fiona out of town, was she? Had Eddie planned this? If he had…. Dear God, could Eddie really want him? What an amazing thought. Pippin grinned, but the grin quickly faded.
It meant risking his career for an American cop he’d only known for six months, who would be going back to New York one day…maybe soon. The promise of that kiss, vs. everything that he’d convinced himself was important to him.
What did he really know about Eddie anyway? Maybe he had a dozen guys on the string, here and back in New York. Ah, but that painful flash of doubt when he left the table. The warmth in those blue eyes…the honesty.
Monty rose slowly and left the pub, not sure until he hit the pavement whether his legs were going to take him to his car or in the direction of Eddie’s flat.
To say he was nervous was the understatement of the century. He was mad, completely mad. Yet the look on Eddie’s face when he opened the door was worth everything.