“Sure, man. Whatever gets me the hell out of here.”
Rick heard Ash move then, that lazy grace he had, words sliding through the air smooth as smoke. “Can I have him now?”
Rick pushed back his chair, metal legs scraping the floor. “He’s all yours.”
Ash stepped forward into the light, crushing his cigarette in the tray before bracing his palms on the table. He locked on Griffin with a calm intensity that never needed volume. Rick leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching the trick he’d seen a dozen times and still found uncanny. Ash bent closer, posture loose, almost playful. “Relax, Griff,” he murmured, voice dropping to that velvet register Rick knew too well. “You’ve got nothing to be nervous about. Just look at me.”
Griffin’s shoulders gave a twitch, as if he meant to recline but couldn’t quite break free. His eyes locked on Ash’s the way Rickhad seen suspects lock on a gun; couldn’t look away even if they wanted to. The defiance in his jaw faltered, softened, like Ash had reached in and erased it.
“That’s better,” Ash said. He let the silence thicken a beat, then slid the blade in: “Now—are you telling the truth?”
Griffin’s pupils blew wide, breath catching like he’d been caught in the undertow. “Yes,” he whispered. “It’s the truth.”
Ash held Griffin’s gaze a moment longer, studying him with that unreadable calm. Rick wondered if he was testing how far he could push before Griffin broke. Satisfied, Ash straightened and cut his eyes to Rick. “You heard him. Would’ve saved us some time if you’d let me handle it from the start.”
Griffin slumped in his chair, muttering something about lawyers and human rights that Rick didn’t bother listening to.
“There’s still protocol,” Rick said, though the word tasted bitter on his tongue. Everything about tonight was off-book: Ash in the room, Griffin tailed without paper, hauled in without arrest, questioned without charge. All of it hanging on Rick’s name and the weight it still carried in this station. But that weight only stretched so far, and he could feel it thinning with every rule he bent.
Ash’s look said he knew it too. Rick held the stare a beat before pushing off the wall and stepping to the table.
“Point is, we’ve got a new lead. That’s more than we had two hours ago.”
Ash tilted his head. “So what now? Do we knock on Beth’s door before breakfast?”
The drive was draining out of Rick, leaving nothing but grit behind. Dawn pressed at the edges of his thoughts. “No,” he said. “We call it for tonight. Pick it up after we have some shut-eye.”
Ash’s mouth curved, slow and knowing. “We?”
Rick shifted his weight, gave a shrug that didn’t quite cover him, though the truth was written on his face more bluntly thanhe’d like. “Your bike’s still at my place… Easier that way.” The words were plain, practical, but he didn’t meet Ash’s eyes when he said them. Instead, he busied himself with the folder on the table, feeling the weight of Ash’s gaze, how it burnt straight through the pretense.
“All right, Detective,” Ash said at last, a smirk in his voice. “Lead the way.”
(5:11 a.m.)
Their clothes fell in careless heaps, a trail of breadcrumbs leading all the way to Rick’s bedroom. Ash’s mouth was on him before Rick had finished tugging the briefs down his legs, the last scrap of civility gone before the plunge into a state of primal freedom. Teeth grazed his chest, lips soft and hungry, leaving marks that burned brighter than the weak dawn bleeding through the blinds.
Rick’s palms roamed between Ash’s shoulder blades, tracing the ridge of muscle, the sharp dip of his waist, every inch hot and alive beneath his calloused fingers. They kissed, mouths parting, rhythm slow but unstoppable. Ash tasted of smoke and fruit and midnight, a tang Rick knew already he’d never get enough of. He tried to cling to control, but then Ash’s hand slid between his legs, cupping his balls, squeezing lightly as the kiss deepened. Rick’s breath tore out rough and uneven.
“Ash…” He lifted him into his arms, carried him to the bed, fresh sheets tangling under their knees as they fell onto it. Pressed together, cock against cock, Rick groaned into the crook of Ash’s neck. “God, you’re perfect.”
Ash’s laugh came breathless, carried on a shiver. “Careful. You’ll make me believe you mean it.” He pushed Rick down flat, slid between his legs, and swallowed his cock in one slick motion.
“Fuck, your mouth…” Rick’s fist clamped in his hair, hips bucking.
“That’s the idea,” Ash smirked around his shaft, words muffled by the thick mass stretching his lips.
Rick couldn’t stop thrusting, sliding deeper, slick heat drawing him in until it bordered on unbearable. How could a mouth feel so soft, so wet, so perfectly shaped around him? Each pulse of his throat sent fire lancing through Rick’s limbs. Still, he wanted more of him, always more. The taste of Ash on his tongue, the smell of him in his lungs.
With a growl, he shifted, tugged Ash up and over until they were positioned opposite each other—Rick flat on his back, Ash straddling his chest, still working his cock. Ash’s ass was right in front of him, spread wide, hole tight and pink. “So pretty,” Rick muttered, spreading his cheeks wide. He dove in, tongue dragging across that tantalizing ring before spearing deeper.
Ash moaned around his shaft, the vibration making Rick see stars. He pulled off with a wet gasp, rubbing his face against Rick’s balls. “God, Rick… Don’t stop… That feels so fucking good…”
“You taste divine,” Rick mumbled against him, nose buried in the musky heat. He licked greedily, long strokes across Ash’s taint and cleft, circling his hole, then stabbing deeper. The taste of salt, sweat, pure Ash filled his mouth. He couldn’t get enough. Above him, Ash took him to the root, throat clenching, and Rick bucked helplessly, groaning into that slick, twitching ring.
When it threatened to break him, he grabbed Ash and rolled him over, desperate now. Ash straddled him with liquid grace, cock flushed and dripping, and reached behind to guide Rick inside. Rick groaned the second his head breached, then pushed deeper, sliding all the way until he was buried in the furnace of Ash’s body. “Fuck… so tight,” he gasped, clutching Ash’s hips.The silky heat was unreal, squeezing every inch of him, milking him as if Ash’s body had been molded just for him.
Ash sat fully, bottoming out with a hiss of pleasure. “God, you fill me so deep… stretch me so wide,” he moaned, palms pressed to Rick’s chest. He spread his fingers through the dark mat of hair there, combing slowly, nails dragging enough to make Rick’s eyes roll back.
