Chapter Text
“Turn left here.”
“Here? But–”
“Turn. Left.”
Troy gives him a puzzled look before slowing the car with a slight swerve and turning left, off the main road. There are fields to both sides, bright in the morning sun, and the car speeds along the narrow road towards a patch of woods. A few minutes, shouldn’t take much longer to get there. There are no road signs, nothing to indicate the place Tom has in mind – he smiles and waits.
“Doesn’t this road lead to the old military base?” Troy asks.
“Yeah.”
“What do you wanna go there for?” There is an edge of impatience in Troy’s voice. “Thought we said no work stuff…”
“It’s not work.”
“Well, what is it?”
“You’ll see.”
It’s only an hour’s drive to the cottage. What’s another hour after five weeks spent apart? And they have time, there’s no need to rush things. Except Tom doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want to wait another hour. The sun catches in Troy’s freshly cropped hair, he looks like too much work and too little sleep, and he’s still annoyed over the detour. He’ll have it figured out in a bit…
“What, out here?” Troy blinks at him in surprise, then he starts grinning. “You serious?”
“Of course.”
“Bit of snog in the bushes?”
“I thought in the car.”
“Goodness me...”
Troy’s chuckle has a tinge of heat and he slams his foot down, letting the car roar along the cracked asphalt and making Tom laugh, pressed into the too-low seat. It stirs warm through Tom, the anticipation, a deep thrilling hum. What they have… what he’s been missing. It doesn’t take long until they get to the roadblock where there are warning signs on both sides, bleached white by the weather. The road is empty, no one comes here. Just an old base left to decay in the woods. Everything looks the same as when Tom was here last, cleaning up after a bunch of smugglers with half of Causton nick.
“What now?” Troy lets the car roll to a halt.
“Not a problem. Wait…”
Tom climbs outside and thumbs through his keys until he finds the right one. He opens the roadblock and lets Troy through, putting the padlock back on. Troy raises his eyebrows, too occupied by a series of potholes to ask. A couple of minutes and they reach the old storage units, a line of concrete domes, decaying and covered in moss. Green surrounds them, beeches sprouting fresh leaves. Weed scrapes along the underside of the car and Troy slows to walking speed.
“Never been here,” Troy says.
“No?”
Tom places his hand on Troy’s thigh, pressing it lightly. He’s not touched him since Troy picked him up, and it earns him a warm “hmm” as Troy takes his hand, keeping it there.
It’s a foolish thing, coming here. What’s another hour? And even here in the middle of nowhere someone could see them…
“How did you get that key?” Troy asks.
“Long story.”
It’s not, but Tom points towards an ivy-covered wall. It’s a good spot, sheltered. As hidden as it gets.
Foolish, yes…
He can afford being foolish now and then.
Troy stops and turns off the engine. He turns to Tom when a pheasant flies up before the windscreen, startling a laugh out of him. Tom looks around, and he opens the door for a moment, listening to the quiet and the distant droning of the motorway. It’s just the two of them… Troy is biting his lip, almost as if he doesn’t know what it does to Tom.
They open their seatbelts at the same time and Tom pulls him over, running his fingers through Troy’s hair. It’s like having jumped off the pier on a hot summer day, a long fervent moment just before…
“If I’d known this was on the table…” Troy’s voice is thick with happiness, warm against Tom’s mouth.
A long kiss, they press together. Troy’s hand is like a vice on his shoulder, his lightness from before gone, his “missed you” stifled by Tom’s kiss. They can barely move, but Tom doesn’t mind… he tugs Troy’s shirt free and yanks it over his head, the undershirt, too, brushing through his chest hair. Breathing in his scent. Troy’s heated laugh makes his heart leap, makes his cock stir. Troy kisses him, quick and hard and hungry, until Tom runs his hand up his thigh, cupping his cock through his trousers. A sound catches in Troy’s throat.
Tom pushes him back into his seat and leans over, taking control of the kiss. He is rubbing Troy slowly through his chinos. It takes some self-restraint, but he enjoys feeling Troy get hard like this, all the more desperate for the slowness of his touch. The familiar heat of his cock, the roll of his hips that pushes him into Tom’s palm. Troy’s grip digs into his side before sliding down and working itself between them, opening Tom’s fly. A flush of lust…
“Did you plan this?” Troy asks.
“No…” Tom sighs as Troy slides his fingers around his cock, “But it’s going in the right direction…”
Troy buries his face under Tom’s chin, sucking kisses to his throat as he strokes Tom to hardness.
“I thought about…” Troy says, “about screwing in the car…”
“You told me…”
“Just now, on my way to you…”
“Mmhh, you did, did you?”
Tom opens Troy’s fly, rubbing the fresh warm stain on the front with his thumb. He pulls Troy out and the smell of his musk goes straight to Tom’s cock. Troy is groaning against his neck, his hardness straining in Tom’s hand as Tom lets his fingers glide down from his leaking cockhead. Tom brings up his hand, letting Troy spit into it, then he starts stroking him. He keeps it slow, again, relishing the build-up, the yearning push of Troy’s hips. Troy’s head sinks back against the headrest and Tom licks over his parted lips as he eases Troy’s balls out, rolling them lightly. Troy lets out a long rumbling moan, his grip slipping over Tom’s cock.
Good, so good. Tom wants to push that hungry mouth down… but he’s going to wait a little longer…
He digs his fingers into Troy’s full, throbbing cock, then he glides over the tip, teasing him a little. Feeling Troy’s raw need, feeling him chase his touch as all of him arches towards Tom… it makes up for all the nights, for the days and weeks, the too-short phone calls, early morning messages, as good as it gets, never enough, nothing like this…
Troy is pulsing hard in his hand, it surprises Tom, surprises them both… Troy is spilling himself between them, coming in thick, hot bursts. His moans fill the car, a throaty, shaking sound, and he keeps stroking Tom, all the way through, pleasure rippling through his body, into his touch, into Tom’s cock.
“I’m gonna have you, as soon as we’re there,” Tom pants. “Give you a right good pounding.”
“Why wait…?”
Tom laughs, everything is so full of pleasure, Troy’s cheeky words, his settling shivers, the warm mess on Tom’s hand... Tom scoots back to the door, pulling Troy along. Troy gets it right away, putting his arm against the door as he lowers himself, licking his lips --
The sound makes them both freeze. Tom’s jacket is buzzing and beeping on the backseat. They jerk apart and look at each other, suddenly reminded of the world.
“Can't believe it,” Troy says.
“Hand it to me.”
“Whoever this is, they can wait…”
“Go on.”
With a sigh, Troy fumbles the phone out of Tom’s jacket and checks the display before handing it over. The name blinking in green sobers Tom immediately. He catches his breath, letting the phone ring out, and as Troy slumps back into the driver’s seat, Tom wipes his hand and tucks himself back. He presses the quick dial.
“Hi Dad.”
“Hello Cully...”
There is a pause. Her greeting sounded muted but conversational. Not an emergency call then…
“Are you out fishing?” Cully asks.
“Yeah, I’m on my way.”
“Oh. Have you heard from mum?”
“She called, yeah. The flight was all right, weather’s lovely. Your nan in Barbados, can you believe it?”
“I should have gone with them. And you, heading out on your own?”
“Yeah.” It’s not often that Tom has to lie to her, and it makes him wince. “What’s the matter, love?”
“My rehearsals have been pushed back to Wednesday. Well, they say Wednesday... It’s been like this from the start. Life of an understudy, I guess. Not like I haven’t been warned.”
“Two more days, hm? Is Simon home?”
Troy, dabbing at his chinos with his undershirt, gives him a questioning glance.
“No. Listen, I thought I’d come down. A day or two…” Cully's voice sounds lighter now. “Keep you company. See if the house is still in one piece.”
“Ah, see, I wasn't really planning on staying in...”
“Fine, coming with you then. I know Simon has some fishing stuff somewhere, no problem.”
“No, listen… Cully…” Disappointment pulls at his stomach. He mouths “sorry” to Troy, watching his face fall. “Why don’t you come down for lunch? And if you want to stay, you can have your room.”
“Lovely! We could try the new place by the museum.”
“All right. See you in a bit.”
“I’ll just pack a few things and hop in the car.” The ease in her voice leaves him with quiet tenderness. “Some father-daughter quality time… we can still go fishing if you want to?”
“Perhaps some other time.”
“Bye Dad!”
“Bye.”
He places his phone on the dashboard. Troy is watching him, half naked, trousers open, the scent of sex hangs in the air… but the rush is gone. Tom reaches over, patting his thigh. For a moment he feels it again, more keenly. The longing of the last weeks.
“Did something happen?” Troy asks.
“Well, you heard it.”
“A bit of trouble at the job is hardly a reason to…”
“Keep your dad from fishing?”
She had that sadness in her voice. Simon is often away, on tour, God knows where… things have been difficult. It’s moments like this when Tom sees his little girl in her again, and he remembers the time when cheering her up was still as easy as getting her ice cream behind Joyce’s back.
“It’s just a day or two,” he mutters, reaching up to brush a finger along Troy’s ear.
“Yeah… we still have the rest of the week.” Troy gives him a flat smile.
“You could drive up ahead. Stay at the cottage. Breathe some fresh air, get away from the city.”
“Think I’m gonna head back. Didn’t exactly leave my desk clean, and with the eval next week…” Troy whistles through his teeth. “The boss didn’t say anything, but it’s got to be about L4.”
Tom catches the glint in Troy’s eye, the blink of a different hunger, so far removed from the one he was filled with just now.
“You’ve already done enough to impress her. This is your time off.”
“You know what it's like,” Troy says.
“I know you.”
Troy takes his hand, kissing it, but Tom can tell his mind is already halfway back at HQ. For a while in the beginning he thought Troy’s transfer to London would make things easier for them. They’d see each other more often. Troy came up with a small inn by Chesham, a quick drive for both, but it rarely works out. It’s just the Fridays at the cottage, once or twice a month… The NIS was quick to sink its claws into Troy.
In a couple of months he’ll be with L4. Au-pairs as they were called back in Tom’s day, in jealous mockery. Liaison officers, sent over the Channel to work with Interpol. Troy fits the type, young, driven, unattached. It’s a great chance, Tom told him, and it is… it really is.
He’s pulled back into the here and now by Troy’s kiss on his thumb. With a flicker of new lust Tom watches him suck his fingertip into his mouth.
“We still have some time, don’t we?” Troy says.
Tom smiles and his still open fly is parted, causing his cock to stir again. Troy licks his lips, but instead of moving down he leans into Tom, putting his head on Tom’s shoulder. For a few moments he just rests against Tom, and Tom understands. He feels the same way and he caresses the back of Troy’s neck, kissing his head. Tom wants it too, to just hold him like this for a while… perhaps even more than he wants what they're doing.
Troy leans down, his warm hand pulling Tom’s cock free. He slides his lips over Tom’s cockhead, licking him wet, tasting him, before pulling his whole length into his mouth. Familiar lust stirs through Tom, making his shoulder press against the car door. Cheeks hollow, head bobbing, Troy sucks him back to hardness. Tom listens to the small lewd sounds. Feels the hitches of pleasure, tension running through him. Troy is stroking the base of his cock, fondling his sac, and he only pauses to open his mouth, letting Tom slide slowly along his tongue. A bit of show that draws a heated groan from Tom.
Troy continues sucking him, face flushed, finding Tom’s rhythm, staying with it. That absorbed look he gets… Tom reaches down and touches his face. Just two days, he thinks, just two more days, and they’ll have time. Time…
Troy’s mouth slides over him with soft grunts, tight and deep, chasing the pleasure that runs through Tom. At intervals Troy pulls off him, stroking him as he purses his lips over Tom’s red, leaking cockhead, licking off his taste. Relishing it before diving down his throbbing length, making Tom pant at the window.
Troy feels he’s close. No flourishes now, he just keeps staying down, deep down, again and again. Breathless moments that stretch on, the last teeth-gnashing high. Tom shoves his back against the door, his hand twitching against Troy’s face, and it still builds, and builds… until Troy’s grunts are suddenly drowned out. Relief streams through Tom. Pulses hard through his cock. Troy holds him, swallowing, and Tom makes him let go and pulls him up, holds him in his arms. Tom’s body is heaving with lust, his cock pressed between them, spurting as he keeps moaning into Troy’s neck.
They stay like this. In the warm, drifting quiet. After a while Tom leans back, and he finds Troy looking quite serious. He gets like this sometimes, right after. He looks beautiful, too, and a little funny. Here in the green spring light, his chest damp with sweat under Tom’s hand, in these moments he is Tom’s. Entirely, secretly… his.
“Come on,” Tom says hoarsely, and Troy heaves himself back into the driver’s seat.
With the help of some water and Troy’s undershirt, they clean themselves. Troy adjusts the rearview mirror and brushes a wet hand through his hair, reminding Tom that his own needs fixing, too. They’re already on their way back, heading along the empty road, when Tom gets to it.
“Can’t believe I’m driving you back home,” Troy says. No reproach, there’s just disappointment.
“I’ll give you a call,” Tom says, “as soon as I know how long I’ll be.”
He closes the sun visor and watches the fields drift by. He can feel it down to his bones. The warmth of settling lust. A bit of back pain announcing itself. It’s good that they got a little foolish… With Troy going abroad soon, who knows how much time they’ll have for stuff like this.
“You still owe me an answer,” Troy says. ”Where did you get that key?”
“Remember that gang of smugglers from Melham, about two years ago?”
“This is where you tracked them down?”
“Yeah. The CO in Causton didn’t feel like sending a man over each time we needed access, so he had them give me a key. I kept it. Thought it might be useful one day.”
“Very useful… Good old Midsomer. I still miss it sometimes, you know–” Troy hits a pothole, causing the car to jump. “Bloody hell.”
“Oh, it’s always good for a surprise.”
Tom rests his hand on Troy’s thigh. There is no one on the road.
“Just like you.” Troy slides his fingers under Tom’s.
They stop at the roadblock and Tom, about to get out, catches Troy’s look. There is something there… something unsaid and strangely careful. It’s just a moment, then it’s gone. There's something Troy has been wanting to tell him, that’s weighing on him... but not now.
“Keep the key,” Troy says. “Could come in handy again.”
“My back seems to be disagreeing.”
Troy is smiling at him, head tipped back against the headrest. What’s two days? Tom thinks. It’s good that he told Cully to come. He’s looking forward to seeing her, looking forward even to that dodgy-looking restaurant she’ll be dragging him to. It’ll be good to have her home.
And then… to drive up to the cottage and find Troy waiting for him.