Title: Uninvited Guests|
Summary: Horatio gets an unexpected visitor
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Lieutenant, Horatio Caine lay, stretching out his lithe body, on the dark fabric of his living room couch. It was his weekend, his first weekend in a long while, as well as another annual event he’d rather not commemorate. As he left the office he recalled someone having told him to ‘live it up’. However his big plans were more along the lines of trying to live it down. When he’d gotten home the sun was shining down directly upon his sofa and he couldn’t resist the idea of napping there, in its glow, to savor the last few hours of daylight. Within moments of getting comfortable his own exhaustion caught up with him and he fell swiftly, and deeply asleep.
A well groomed man, in a black coat, gazed down at Caine’s sleeping form. Watching Horatio entertained the man’s smile, one that softened his usually stern looks. With a trained eye he studied everything about the Lieutenant, from brilliant hair, to expensive shirt, well kept weapon, to spotless badge, right down to his perfectly creased pants. The guest, still unknown to H, knelt beside him and trailed a hand over Caine’s shoulder, gently kneaded the muscles there. Horatio groaned and shifted, but fell short of waking up. Noticing a cell phone still on and fastened to H’s belt the man chuckled.
“You’re supposed to be off work.” He whispered. Standing just behind his sleeping host, the man retrieved his own phone, and dialed. Instantly Horatio’s cell phone rang and shook, jolting him from tranquility. His hand instinctively grabbed his phone, and propping himself up with his free hand, he answered.
“Caine.” He said with strict professionalism. “What is it?”
“You call this ‘time off’?” The voice that mocked him reached his ear, not only through the phone, but from in the room, and just beside him. Horatio turned swiftly already on the defense, until the man came into view, again kneeling beside him.
“Mac!? What are you--” His sentence was cut short by one Mac Taylor’s imposing kiss. Not that Horatio really cared for an answer anyway. It didn’t matter why Mac was here, just so long as he was here. He adjusted the collar of Horatio’s shirt.
“Look at you.” He continued to tease, “Phone still on, only one extra button undone, still wearing a belt and you’re gun is still holstered for Christ’s sake. They told me you were at home relaxing. And my guys tell me I don’t unwind enough.” Horatio took the scoffing in good humor, but with intention to retort. That was their game, trying to be the bigger smart ass.
“What, you don’t knock?” H grinned standing, stretching his arms and back. Mac reached out to release another button on Horatio’s shirt. H goaded the presumptuous action. “Pushy, damn, New Yorker.” They laughed, until Mac’s hand on the back of his companion’s neck pulled them in, mouth against mouth. He’d been missing that laugh, that sly smile. It wasn’t around when he was back in New York.
“It’s good to see you, Horatio. Happy birthday.” His words were spoken closely between their lips.
“Don’t remind me.” H grabbed his visitor’s small travel case. “Make your self at home.” He said, stepping away into the master bedroom, unaware of Mac in tow. The moment Caine dropped the suitcase Mac closed the distance between them.
“What did I say about that belt…And these buttons.” Horatio remained passive to his lover’s attack on his clothing and instead watched the focus on Mac’s face, as his hands worked busily. He’d been missing this man, worse than he thought. This had been their longest time spent apart in ages. Distance relationships weren’t all bad, H thought, at least not this part of them. His shirt was off now, somewhere on the floor below them. He’d lost track when his eyes fell shut, due to Mac’s hands creeping across his stomach and over his back. Feeling warm lips on his neck Horatio reached out to stroke the warm skin of the body next to his, much to his frustration his fingertips found only fabric, before he remembered Mac had never gotten around to his own clothes. Hell, he still had a coat on. Seizing the lapel of Mac’s rather heavy jacket, H laughed at the attire.
“You expecting snow or something?” He pushed the coat over Mac’s shoulders and moved onto his tie.
“Give me a break,” He breathed over Horatio’s skin, “it was colder where I got on the plane.”
“I doubt you’re going to need it for a few days.” The urgency of their movements grew and Horatio felt as if he couldn’t get this man’s clothes off fast enough, though his fingers had made short work of a belt. Finally they had each other they way they’d been wanting. Skin to skin. By now Horatio wanted this more than ever.
“No kidding, it gets too damn hot here.”
“You have no idea.”
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