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Rob
When I first started to work undercover I loved it. I got to be a cop but play the bad boy and it appealed to the side of me that didn't like rules and regulation. Ever since I started training it was what I wanted, and little jobs soon turned into longer periods and harder work. The one thing I had never expected was how the longer it went on the more I lost myself.
I thought I would end up leading two lives, but in fact that was too dangerous, and it became impossible for me to be anything other than whichever dubious character I was at that time. Between assignments I found it hard to remember who I really was. I didn't have friends, and I certainly didn't have lovers. When I was off duty totally I had chances for sex, and I took them, but aside from one brief relationship formed while I was still a cop on the beat I didn't have any experience there either.
No-one could have waited at home for me for weeks or months on end, no contact from me, whether they were a friend or a lot more, and it didn't bother me that much. I was doing something so worthwhile and in many ways the danger made up for the lack of other excitement in my life. It didn't seem like much of a sacrifice, I had outlets when I had the itch, and I got very used to my hand and using porn.
There was one thing that made it even more difficult, knowing that I was gay and needed a male body against mine. It meant I had to be even more cautious about any liaisons because it would be worse if I got caught out by those I was supposed to be investigating. If I'd been shagging every woman I saw it would have been a lot easier, but I couldn't get it up without the sight of a tight male body.
I was involved in the biggest job of my career so far, and the most dangerous. Weeks turned into months and then years, still gathering what information I could while I worked my way up through the ranks of a seriously worrying gang. They were into pretty much every criminal act that could make them money, and thought nothing of permanently silencing anyone who tried to stand up to them. They were also clever enough not to get caught, or at least the ringleaders, three brothers, were that clever. Getting promotion often depended on other gang members getting locked up for a while, and it was easy to get demoted again if and when they returned. Loyalty was key.
I had to earn it, and it was hard, especially when I did have some rules about how far I could go. My cover and faked prison record only got me so far, I had to prove myself useful and reliable to gain trust, and at the same time I had to gather every bit of information I heard or saw, everything I did. I lived, ate and slept the hard guy I was supposed to be, and apart from my rare conversations with the Chief I barely saw anyone decent.
Just once in a while I wanted to remember me; do something that I would be doing if I lived some kind of normal life. My days of clubbing were in my youth, but very rarely I took a moment to see that life again. I was probably a little old for that type of place anyway, but it was the only time I saw men in real life and could just look, even if touching had become a distant memory.
I couldn't recall why I had felt the need to go to that club that night, but I could still feel how I did when I sat in the dark unable to leave or to join in, saddened by the sudden realisation I could choose either the job I loved or a chance at not being alone.
Hot on the heels of that revelation I was dragged out of bed on one of the rare occasions I let my mind run off with the idea of having sex with someone I loved and had my cock in hand at the thought. Early morning wake up call by uniform and hauled down to the station- it was not going to be a good day.
Looking back I'm still not sure it was. I mean, I got to meet Alex, but that moment was just the start of me being more confused than I had ever been in my life. I'd barely thought about sex for months, too involved in work, but after one look at my cute solicitor it was almost all I could think about. So pretty, not too young but slim and boyish frame. I could just imagine the fine muscles that would be under that suit, and how I would like to trail my tongue over them on my way down to suck his cock.
It took a moment for me to remember anything about who I was or what was going on, I was just taken with his nervous smile. Worse still, when I did remember the important information I realised I had to make him pretty sure I thought very little of him, when what I actually wanted to do was take possession of those soft lips and make his dark eyes even darker with passion.
Fuck! He looked kind of scared, so I couldn't have been too obvious checking him out and I told him to sit down and shut up. I was distracted by him and when he sat next to me I almost thought I could hear his heart beat and each slightly panted breath, feel the warmth from his body, smell not only his aftershave but something that was uniquely him and made me yearn to touch and taste.
It was stupid to have him there when I spoke to the Chief, but I needed him to know I was a good guy. It was equally stupid to get him to drive me home and torment me with his closeness when it was something I could never have, especially when I used the opportunity to look him over and cement my obsession. It was downright idiotic and dangerous to go to him after the flat was trashed. I knew it meant I was no longer trusted and I had to get to safety with what I had.
I had no idea, looking back, whether my decision to go to Alex had been driven by even a single moment of rationality, of if it was solely the choice of my heart. My body and mind were telling me I had to go to Alex and needed to see him again as crazy as that was, and I didn't think through the details. The worst moment of my life to date was hearing the beating Alex got. I'd even seen a little bit of it, after they had him on the floor, kicking at the unmoving body.
I'd nearly been sick, tears were falling silently as I stood unable to help a man I knew, somehow, I was already in love with. The urge to protect my mate was so strong I had to picture myself with the gun pointing at my head the moment I came downstairs and how the last thing I would see in this world would be the gun moving to point to Alex. The sound of sirens had never been so welcome.
That was the point I should have left. Or maybe once we got to the hospital and I knew Alex would be safe, or at least before he woke up, but somehow I couldn't leave his side. I lied to the staff and almost as the words 'he's my partner, my boyfriend' left my mouth I physically ached that I couldn't have that be true. I was fighting my feelings so hard I almost managed to convince myself there was some danger that only I could protect him from.
I was sunk the moment he opened his eyes and smiled at the sound of my voice, so gorgeous despite the bruising and swelling. The dream only died on the sight of his face when the nurse mentioned his boyfriend and his reaction to my explanation. No hope he was interested, he wouldn't look like I'd just scared him. And yet, I took him away with me anyway, still not willing to let it all fade, I just needed a little longer with him, and I knew I was kidding myself that it would be enough.
It was torture too, being a friend to him when I felt so guilty about not stopping the beating and what I wanted to do with him even though I'd got him hurt and into danger. He was grateful, which made it worse. Almost the first thing I had to do was help him dress, and my hands on his soft skin caused me a mixture of pleasure and torment. Kneeling before him didn't help either, when I knew there was only a thin hospital gown between his dick and my mouth.
I wondered if I had really done this for his protection, my desire, or just to torment myself with something I couldn't have. Torment seemed to be winning out by the time we got to the hotel on the first night on the run. Once or twice I could have sworn he was reacting to me in the way I would like -- when he saw me with no shirt on, when I leaned across him to put his seatbelt on, when he flashed his naked backside at me, but it was almost certainly only my own desires. It didn't stop me having to beat off in the hotel bathroom before I could sleep though, the idea of him totally naked in the bed right next to mine was too much for me to stop my dick from rising.
The next morning I wanted to do something for him and running a bath to soothe his aching muscles and bruises was the only thing I could. Caring for him was about all I could let myself get into right now, and I didn't want to think beyond his immediate needs, but when he admitted he was hard I had to force myself to turn my back because I would have loved to see it. He terrified me when I couldn't find him after my shower and I hated having to scare him into staying with me but I didn't need to exaggerate how much the gang would love to kill me.
It was amusing in the car when he started to question me, and I wished I could tell him everything but I knew that wasn't wise. I wished I could show him the real me, even as I realised that I wasn't sure what or who that was any more. Then he dropped the bombshell that he'd seen me in the club. I had to check that he'd actually been inside the club, because that meant I had to revise a lot of my assumptions about him. Then he got so excited about having come out to me, the first person he had told, and I just felt awful. He was telling me because he trusted me, and all I wanted was to strip him naked and fuck him with no thought for the consequences.
I knew in that moment that I could never have him, never let him see what I felt. He was so beautiful, so innocent, and all I could give him was a few nights of sex before I had to leave. If I could no longer remember who I used to be, I knew for certain that whoever I was, I wanted him, and I wished I could be normal and offer him everything he deserved and everything I wanted. He might not want it too, but my body was yearning for it, for him.
I needed to pull over and get away from him for a few minutes to collect my thoughts, although I had managed to start talking to him again. My initial shock over him being gay and so happy to tell me and then at my realisation wore off, and I needed some fresh air for just a few moments. It might have worked too, if I hadn't managed to decide to go to the toilets at the same time as some desperate cocksucker.
I was so involved with my thoughts I didn't even notice the guy checking my dick out at the urinals for a moment. I gave him a look that radiated disapproval, but he didn't seem to care and was probably drunk, so he started begging me to let him suck it. For one brief moment I actually considered it on the basis that it might distract me from thoughts of Alex, but realistically right now only him sucking me would do, and I knew that wasn't going to happen.
In the middle of the debate that followed I tried to stay calm as the guy tried everything from charm to desperation, and then Alex walked in. I tensed, scared that he would think I was trying to pick the guy up, and then more worried when he started to talk about Alex as though he was mine. The worse part of that was my possessive and protective instincts were rising up as if he was.
"So that explains it. Guess if I had someone that cute to suck me I wouldn't look twice at an old man. I guarantee I can do it better than your boytoy though."
I hated hearing that word describing Alex, and I knew I made that clear before I replied.
"He is not my boytoy."
The guy started laughing. "Must be love. How about we see if he fancies my offer more than you did?"
