Just Friends or Something Like It

Walking away from the ER's examination room, Bosco shook his head. "What a total fuckwad."


"What?" He wasn't surprised Yokas had scolded him -- but he was right. The guy was a moron. He held up four fingers. "He had four stitches. *Four*. And for that he wants to file charges?"

"He was assaulted," Yokas began -- her typical defense of the civilian public. He knew she didn't always believe what she said, but she always rallied around when he began mouthing off.

"Four stitches. I get that from playing basketball." Disgusted, he kept walking down the hallway, intent on getting out of the ER and away from the jerk who had messed up Bosco's quiet shift. They'd been having a good afternoon so far, not even needing to duck any stupid calls.

Hadn't lasted -- never did.

"That might say more about your basketball skills," Yokas said, dryly. Bosco thought about flipping her the bird, but settled for sneering at her.

"It was an *accident*, Faith. Neighbor hits him with the door -- the guy even brings him in, and all he wants is to have him arrested for assault. He's a dick."

They exited through the automatic double doors, the sudden exposure to sunlight made Bosco fumble for his sunglasses. He paused in the middle of the doorway as he put them on. Yokas shoved him forward, out of the way, with a hand to his shoulder. Behind them, Kim and Bobby came walking out of the ER as well. Bosco gave them a half-nod, while Yokas was focused on arguing with him.

"He said his neighbor doesn't like him, that he's been dumping garbage in his driveway, even tore up the new porch he put in." Yokas walked along beside him, blinking a little at the sunlight.

"Yeah, his porch got torn up the day after that storm blew through. Like he even knows how to build a porch. He's a complete moron -- you heard him. It was probably like two pieces of trash and he's wants us to throw his neighbor in jail for littering."

"He said it was 'garbage'," Yokas repeated, even though they both been standing there, listening to Mr. Marsters go on about his neighbor's 'vendetta.' They'd heard the same words, but as always came to completely different conclusions. "He wouldn't have said garbage unless it was a lot."

"Or if it was two pieces and he's just an asshole," Bosco countered. They walked into the parking area near the emergency entrance. Just on the other side of the ambulances was their RMP. Before Yokas could open the door, Bosco sat down on the hood of the car. Yokas gave him a look of disbelief, but Bosco didn't care. He wasn't ready to get back out on the street. Let them think they were still inside taking the guy's information.

"Bosco -- he wants to press charges. It isn't our job to decide whether or not he has a case."

Bosco laughed. "Oh, please. It's exactly our job! If we jumped every time some jagoff wanted somebody else arrested, we'd never have time to deal with *real* crimes. These morons just care about their lawn, and whether or not the guy next door has a better parking spot, or if his wife's tits are bigger than the chick next door. You wanna file a report because Mr Fucks Himself wants the wind to stop blowing trash in his driveway? Or because someone plays his music too loud at ten o'clock in the morning when nobody *cares*?"

Yokas was staring at him -- he could tell she was winding up to counter everything he'd said.

"Does he ever shut up?" Bobby's voice interrupted whatever she'd been about to say.

They both looked over to where Kim and Bobby had been standing beside their bus, listening. They both looked liked they'd come from something pretty simple. No blood on their uniforms and no solemn faces like whoever they'd picked up hadn't made it.

"Only when he's eating," Yokas said, then she glanced at him. "I take that back. I've seen him talk with his mouth full."

"I do not!" Bosco objected, though he figured it was probably true. But it wasn't like they got to sit down and have a leisurely meal, while they were working.

"I guess he probably shuts up when he's kissing his girlfriend," Yokas continued, like he hadn't said a word.

Bosco saw Bobby give Kim a look. Kim's eye went wide and she shook her head. "Oh, no. You want him to shut up, you do it."

Bobby turned to him, and Bosco had a single moment to realise he was actually going to do it. He jumped off the car and started to step away; Bobby got to him just in time to get him pinned against the side of the car.

"You fuc--" was all he got before Bobby grabbed him, and kissed him. And didn't stop.

Bosco hit him as hard as he could on the arm. Hit him again a couple times, shoving his hand up against Bobby's chest. Bobby grabbed his wrist and held it against the car, leaning his entire body against Bosco's, trapping him against the car. Still kissing him.

Bosco hit him again with his free hand, squirming now for all he was worth. Tried to get a knee up, but Bobby had his legs too well pinned.

Because he'd reacted, as soon as Bobby had grabbed his wrist. The one fucking annoying kink he had, and Bobby found it without even trying. Bosco twisted his hips, frantic to get the evidence away before Bobby noticed.

Without warning, Bobby let him go, stepping backwards.

"FUCK YOU!" Bosco exploded. He turned away from Yokas and Kim, who were standing there not saying a word. He caught sight of Bobby's expression: staring at him -- then he saw a hint of a grin. Bosco let loose -- called Bobby every name he could think of.

The only reason he didn't let fly with his fist to Bobby's face was that even though he knew for sure Bobby had felt his reaction -- Bosco had felt Bobby's reaction, too.

Well, that and Yokas would probably arrest *him* for assault. No matter how justified it would have been.

He heard Kim start laughing, and Bobby was just standing there, grinning smugly. Bosco turned on his heel and yanked the car door open, getting in and slamming it shut. If he didn't see those two for the rest of the week -- hell, ever -- it would be too soon.

Dropping his head back on the seat, he realised that by evening, the entire firehouse was going to be buzzing with the story. Bobby wasn't stupid enough to tell anyone that he'd liked it -- but he'd sure tell them all how much Bosco had.

Wouldn't take long for the story to reach the cops next door.

Bosco closed his eyes. He was dead.


At first, Yokas tried to tease him about it. Bosco didn't respond, beyond cursing at Bobby all over again. He tried to act like it wasn't anything but annoying, and eventually Yokas went back to arguing about Mr. Marsters' allegedly evil neighbor. Bosco responded to that, letting it distract her from Bobby.

For the rest of the shift he kept waiting for something to happen. Whenever the radio crackled to life, he tensed, afraid it would be a call that would bring them in contact with someone who'd have heard all about it. But nothing happened, and when they finally got to clock out Bosco got out of the locker room as fast as he could, not saying a word to anyone.

There hadn't been anything on his locker, nor anything on his car. He left quickly, thinking maybe he'd take the subway to work tomorrow, just in case. There was no doubt that it would start as soon as he showed up. The jokes, the teasing -- the subtle and not so subtle harassment. But at least he could keep them from damaging his car, by leaving it home.

He didn't want to think about it. Sitting down in the living room with a beer, Bosco tried to not think about it.

Then he tried thinking about what he'd do about it, since not thinking about it wasn't working. It was possible they'd think Bobby was exaggerating. Hell -- no one but Bobby knew the truth. He could just insist that Bobby was lying, and eventually everyone would believe it was just another joke someone had played on him. It wasn't like everyone in the department didn't know he slept with girls. Some of them were girls that other cops had dated, and those girls could certainly attest that he liked sex with girls.

No one but Bobby would know that he also liked guys. And if Bobby tried insisting that he'd felt something -- Bosco could just tell everyone that it was *Bobby* whose cock had gotten hard, kissing him.

Bosco felt a hell of a lot better as he realised that he wasn't in any trouble at all. No one would believe that he liked guys. He'd probably have to endure some teasing, but it'd all blow over. No harm done.

The doorbell rang, and Bosco nearly jumped out of the chair. He set his beer down, the can still mostly full. It was probably Yokas, wanting to know if everything was OK. He'd caught the occasional concerned glance from her as their shift had worn on. Either that or it was the first delivery of joke-flowers, and he might as well get it over with.

Glancing through the spy-hole, Bosco blinked. "What the fuck?"

He unlocked the door and pulled it open, glaring at Bobby who was standing there.

"What the fuck?" he repeated.

"Hey." Bobby nodded at him, like there was nothing odd going on. Except why the hell would Bobby show up at his doorstep?

"The fuck do you want?" Bosco demanded.

Bobby shrugged. "Wanted to apologise. And -- in case you hadn't figured it out, I'm not going around telling anyone."

There was a moment when their eyes met, that Bosco knew exactly what he meant. Not the kiss. But he wasn't buying it. "And Kim isn't yakking it up, either?" He sneered, knowing fully well that Kim wouldn't have any reason to keep quiet.

"Actually, she isn't. She knows I like guys. She keeps quiet about it so I don't get hassled." Bobby kept looking steadily at him, unconcerned with the fact Bosco was still ready to break his arm. Or something.

"And she's decided that it isn't funny that you kissed *me*? Out in the fucking parking lot, in front of the world?" There was no way Kim wasn't loving what she'd seen.

"No one saw us. We were behind the ambulance; no one but Kim and Faith were there. Kim's not talking. Unless you think Yokas is gonna tell anyone, we're good."

"We are NOT fucking good," Bosco snapped. "You fucking KISSED me."

Bobby suddenly stepped forward, practically right on top of Bosco. Looked down at him, and said softly, "And you liked it."

There wasn't any point in denying it. Bosco stepped backwards, away from him. "So? It doesn't mean anything."

"Means you liked being kissed by me," Bobby countered, and Bosco watched him reach back and push the door closed.

"So now we're gonna be best friends? You wanna move in and be Mrs. Boscorelli?"

Bobby shook his head. "Don't be a jerk, Bosco. I came by to tell you no one is gonna know, so you don't have to worry about being hassle
over it. Firemen are as bad as cops when it comes to guys sleeping with other guys. As long as its somebody else, they don't care. One of their own -- no way. I figured you'd appreciate knowing."

He hesitated a minute, wishing he could just throw Bobby's ass out of his apartment. But he had done the decent thing, and Bosco *was* grateful. Finally he nodded. "Thanks."

They stood there for a moment, neither of them saying anything. Bosco knew this was supposed to be his cue to invite him in, give him a beer. Talk about the common joys of wanting something it was dangerous to have, and get all bond-y and 'let's be friends'.

There was no way that was going to happen. But it probably wouldn't kill him to be polite, for a few minutes. He was about to ask him if he wanted a beer, when Bobby looked at him and asked, "So, can I fuck you?"

Bosco stared at him in disbelief. His jaw was hanging open, and he knew he looked like a moron. He ignored the fact that certain parts of his body were all for the idea, and demanded, "What the hell?"

There was that grin again -- not so smug, this time, but still too damned sexy. "The way I see it, you liked it best when I was holding you down. Therefore, you must like being on the bottom. I like it on top. So it'd be me fucking you."

"Because you kiss me, and don't tell, I'm supposed to have sex with you?" Bosco couldn't believe it. Even though he'd been wanting pretty much that very thing since he'd met Bobby, four years ago. He felt like that about every guy he was attracted too -- he didn't go around propositioning them.

Not outside the safety of bars on the other side of the city, at any rate.

"Why not?" Bobby shrugged. "We both have to keep it quiet. We have the same work schedule, so we don't have to piss each other off because we work late. I'm not asking you to be my boyfriend, Bosco. I'm just asking if you wanna fuck, sometimes."

He blinked again. What the hell world had he fallen into, this morning? He'd started the day off dropping his coffee mug on the floor, shattering it. Then he'd slipped in the spilled coffee, despite the fact he'd known it was there, when he'd reached for a towel. The day had seemed to settle down after that -- until Bobby had kissed him.

Now this.

"You what?"

"Do you wanna get together, sometimes, for sex? No strings, no... dating. Fuck buddies." Bobby looked entirely too calm and collected about it. It occurred to Bosco that this could be stage two of the taunting. Get him to agree, and get him naked -- there was probably a camera in Bobby's pocket. He said as much to Bobby.

Sahking his head, Bobby replied, "I'm not here to mess with you. I can prove it."

Bosco started to ask him how he was going to do that, when Bobby took off his shirt.

Then he slipped off his shoes.

Bosco stared, because surely he wasn't going to-- He was. Bosco watched, stunned, as Bobby took off his jeans as well. Left on his underwear, but -- damn. Practically naked in his apartment, wanting to fuck him. Bobby. In his underwear. In Bosco's apartment.

"Are you drunk?"

Bobby grinned. "I had two beers. I'm not drunk enough to blame this on that."

"You...." He couldn't finish his sentence. Couldn't even figure out what his sentence was. Bobby was standing there, staring at him. Cool as anything, not caring that he was in his underwear. Bosco could see the curve of his cock, though the thin fabric.

"You believe me, now?" Bobby asked. "Or you want the rest of it off?"

"Yes," Bosco said, then he realised what he'd said. Realised he was fucking staring at Bobby's crotch. "No! I mean-- the fuck." He shook his head, trying to knock some sense back into his brain, and tell his cock to shut the hell up. "You don't even like me," he pointed out.

Bobby shook his head. "You act like a jerk most of the time. But you're damned hot, and I've been wanting to fuck you for a long time. Besides... when you don't act like a jerk, you're not that bad."

"Thanks," Bosco said, sarcastically.

"You gonna stand there arguing, or are you gonna get your clothes off?"

Surprised again -- or still -- Bosco asked, "You really... want to do this?"

"Yeah," Bobby said, simply. "And you do, too." He nodded towards Bosco's crotch. No way to hide the fact he'd noticed Bobby was standing in front of him in his underwear.

Before Bosco could figure out if he wanted to keep arguing, Bobby walked over and kissed him again. At first it was nothing -- annoying, because he was just assuming Bosco cared if he was attracted or not.

Then Bobby pushed him back against the wall, and got his hands on Bosco's wrists. Held them in place, and Bosco couldn't help the way his mouth opened, inviting Bobby in. Bobby bumped against him, nudging his cock against Bosco's own, and it was clear they were equally turned on.

Bobby broke the kiss, and Bosco said, "No one can *ever* find out about this. Not Kim, not anybody."

"You gonna tell Yokas?" Bobby asked.

Bosco shook his head. "She doesn't know anything about it. I don't sleep with guys often."

Bobby nodded, agreeing to the rule. "Nothing changes outside of here," he said.

"Nothing changes," Bosco agreed. "And no dropping by unexpectedly. We arrange things ahead of time; no surprises."

"No surprises," Bobby repeated. He kissed Bosco again, hard, still holding Bosco against the wall the entire time. He pressed his knee between Bosco's legs, and Bosco tried to think if there was anything else he had to make clear, before he said yes.

When Bobby let his mouth go, he said, "This is just for sex. We can date whoever we want, no whining about being exclusive."

Bobby smiled, and nodded. "No whining. No dating. Just sex. Anything else before I strip your clothes off?"

It was really fucking hard to think clearly with Bobby pressed up against him, looking at him like he was gonna eat Bosco up. "I... nothing else." If he thought of something later, he'd mention it later.

With a nod, Bobby let go with one hand, and pulled Bosco's shirt up. Bosco reached down to help him, and Bobby let go of his other wrist.
Bosco pulled his shirt off, and started undoing his jeans. Then he stared again as Bobby pulled his underwear off.

Damn. He swallowed, and fumbled a bit with his jeans. He felt Bobby's hand on his hip, tugging the waistband loose as he got them undone. Then he was sliding his hand down, pulling the jeans off. He stepped out of them, and then he was just as bare-ass naked as Bobby.

Bobby kissed him again, and all Bosco could think was that they were both naked. Everything was touching, and while it hadn't been all that long since he'd been with another guy, Bosco felt like he was gonna go off like flash paper if Bobby kept kissing him.

"You wanna do this here, or go into the bedroom?" Bosco asked him when he had a chance to catch his breath again. He was fine for not moving -- he'd been fucked against a wall before, and there wasn't a thing wrong with it.

Bobby glanced over his shoulder towards the bedroom. It was obvious he was seriously considering staying right where they were. Then he said, "You got anything within reach?"

Bosco looked around. Kitchen? Nah. There wasn't anything in there he wanted smeared inside his ass. Nothing stashed in the living room, either. "Bedroom," he said, and Bobby stepped away from him.

As Bosco led him down the short hallway, he figured it was good -- a short break to clear his head, get calmed down a little. Make this last more than two seconds, which would just be embarrassing as hell, coming like a sixteen year old boy.

He felt Bobby's hand on his ass, and his cock responded instantly. Oh, damn, but he wanted to get fucked. As long as Bobby didn't tell him this really was an elaborate joke...

Bobby walked right up to the bed and looked at him, waiting. Bosco went over to the night-table and dug into the bottom drawer. He had condoms in the top drawer, but he hid the lube, more condoms, and a few other things in the bottom drawer, underneath a few old T-shirts.

He tossed a bottle of lube and a condom to Bobby. "Where do you want me?"

"On your back," Bobby told him, catching both items and setting the condom on the bed. "You flexible enough?"

"Hell yes." Bosco got on the bed, watching as Bobby squirted lube onto his fingers. Bosco pulled his knees up -- more than agile enough, and he'd never admit to doing stretches after his workout just to keep his legs flexible enough for this. Settled on his back, his throat tightened as Bobby's cold, slick fingers touched his asshole.

He wasn't tight, hadn't been since Bobby had stripped off his underwear. Wanted this, hell yeah, and now Bobby was slipping his fingers inside, lubing him up really well.

"A great ass," Bobby said, appreciatively.

"Normally you say I'm an ass like it's a bad thing," Bosco said, trying to speak normally. It was hard with Bobby shoving his fingers inside his ass.

Bobby laughed. "From now on I'll have to be careful how I say it." He leered, and pulled his fingers free. Then he did it again, sliding two lube-coated fingers inside and moving them around. Bosco closed his eyes, briefly, and he could feel his cock beginning to leak pre-cum.

"Oh, yeah. You're ready for this."

Bosco snapped his eyes open, tensing. This would be exactly where Bobby would pull out a camera -- well, he'd proved he didn't have one. Hell, what if someone was waiting out in the hall?

Bosco nearly jumped off the bed to grab a robe and throw Bobby the hell out, then Bobby ripped open the condom and placed it on the tip of his cock. Hard as Bosco was, and if this was a joke -- it was gonna be on both of them. He tried to relax as Bobby rolled the condom down, rubbing it into place with a smooth motion of his hand.

He smeared one last bit of lube on his cock, then Bobby leaned up on his knees. Bosco pulled his legs up, then Bobby was pressed against his ass. Pressing inside him. Bosco breathed out, choking back a groan.

"Forgot to ask," Bobby said lightly. Bosco just had time to feel the slam of misgivings hit him, before Bobby asked, "You like foreplay?"

Bosco glared at him, and Bobby grinned. And thrust himself deeper inside Bosco's body.

Bosco grabbed hold of the blanket he'd thrown into place that morning, his single effort at making the bed. Gripping it tightly, he braced himself as Bobby pulled back and slammed into him. Bobby leaned forward, pressing Bosco's legs to his chest, and put his hands on the bed on either side of Bosco.

Then he began fucking him. Slamming into his ass, fucking him hard with every single thrust. Bosco was held down on the bed, trapped and bent in two, and fucked.

His cock was throbbing and he let go the blanket with one hand, intending to grab jerk himself off.

"Leave it," Bobby growled, and Bosco moaned, putting his hand back on the bed, fumbling for the fabric to hold onto. "I wanna see if you come from me fucking you," Bobby said, nearly growling at him.

"I will," Bosco assured him.

"Good. You're gonna come, with me fucking you in the ass," Bobby kept talking, fucking him in a steady and unrelenting rhythm. Bosco was being shoved back and forth on the bed, and he was glad he'd got rid of the headboard years ago. It'd have been banging the wall, letting everybody know what he was doing.

His ass was getting the beating, instead, Bobby's hard cock thrusting into him, his thighs slamming against his ass and his chest and stomach pushing down on his legs. Bobby leaned further in, face near Bosco's -- almost close enough to kiss him, and Bobby looked like he wanted to. Bosco stretched his head up, getting onto his elbow for a few more inches' reach, and gave him a kiss.

He felt Bobby's tongue slid inside his mouth, and Bobby stopped moving -- left his cock buried deep inside Bosco while he kissed him. Bosco could feel how close he was, and wanted to take his cock in his hand. But he knew he'd come without it, and the thought of Bobby wanting to see him come like that just made him all the closer to doing so.

Bobby began pushing his hips again, very slightly. He leaned back and smiled, wriggling his hips in a motion that could only be to tease

"Fuck me, already!" Bosco snapped.

"Such language," Bobby made a 'tsk' noise.

"If I'm doing it, I say it," Bosco told him. He moved himself down, a little, trying to fuck himself if Bobby wasn't going to. When that didn't encourage him, Bosco squeezed his ass, tight, around Bobby's cock.

Bobby gasped. "That's not fighting fair." He pushed once, deep, then pulled back again.

"We're not fighting. You're supposed to be fucking me." He squeezed again, holding his muscles tight for several seconds.

Bobby began panting, and he said something under his breath, in Spanish. But he started moving, and that was all Bosco wanted. Fucking him, again, and Bosco let his head fall back onto the bed.

Neither said a word as Bobby got back into the rhythm. Hanging onto the bed, Bosco let Bobby fuck him hard as he could. He was hard, ready to come, but not quite there. Maybe he would have to jerk off, after all.

Bobby moved his hands, and put them on top of Bosco's forearms. He grabbed them tightly, and there was that same pressing down, trapped feeling that had got Bosco hard in the first place.

He whimpered, then groaned loudly as he came. Bobby didn't let go as Bosco came, his hips jerking up in short movements. He couldn't move, with his legs and arms and his entire body held down by Bobby. He shouted, and felt his brain start to swim, dizzily.

Bobby was still fucking him hard, and he could hear Bobby's breath still coming in harsh pants. Bosco tried to squeeze him, again, even though he'd lost most of his control. Bobby leaned down on him, further, and Bosco could feel his breath hot against his skin.

"Oh, god, Bosco," Bobby said, and then he was slamming into him, harder than ever. Two more seconds and he was coming, as well, his hands gripping Bosco's arms so tightly he knew there would be bruises tomorrow. He didn't care, because Bobby was fucking him, coming inside him.

One last groan, then Bobby froze. Bosco could feel him shiver, once, then Bobby took a deep breath. Bosco let his legs down, on either side of Bobby, and Bobby's cock slipped out of his ass. They were both sweaty and spent, and damned sticky.

Bosco felt great. From the way Bobby groaned again as he moved aside, rolling off Bosco, he felt pretty much the same. He waited, stretching his legs out. For a moment they just lay there. Then Bobby looked at him.

"So... now what?" He sounded completely composed, except for the way his eyes didn't quite open all the way.

He knew what Bobby meant. Bosco told him, "So, now -- if you stay, we can fuck again in the morning." If they were doing this -- and it looked like they were -- Bosco saw no reason to be shy about getting all he could.

Bobby grinned. "Practical. I like that." He inhaled deeply again, and Bosco could see that every inch of him was relaxed.

"I don't make breakfast," Bosco warned him. "Just coffee."

"Do you steal blankets?"

"They're my blankets," Bosco reminded him, tugging the blanket out from under himself. He used it to wipe himself clean; he had another blanket folded up in the closet. But he didn't mention that as he tossed the sticky blanket at Bobby.

Bobby made a face and pulled it away from himself. "I'm not sleeping under this."

"Then don't sleep under it." Bosco smirked, then got out of bed and went rummaging for the other blanket.

"Nice view," he heard from behind him.

Bosco just pulled the clean blanket out, and brought it over. He noticed Bobby quickly wiping himself clean with the dirty blanket, then waited for him to drop it off the bed onto the floor.

Then he flipped the blanket out, and crawled into bed. Bobby reached over and wrapped and arm around his waist. "We gonna wait 'til morning?"

Bosco pulled the clean blanket back off the bed, and rolled over.

Next Story: Everyday Afternoons