Um...  Do I want to have a pre-amble to this?    Nope!  This was
written months ago when I actually cared...    BTW, welcome to all new
list members and please note that contrary to what Mel (AKA: 'Damon Hill'
) has to say on the subject, I am not actually a bitch...   Deep down
I'm a very nice person... 

Ciao

Claire

~*~

Title:       Classified Seduction
Author:      Claire
Pairing:     Skase / Proctor
Rating:      NC-17
Feedback:    Why not?  To charlton@cobweb.com.au

Disclaimers: Not mine and have never been mine.  Ownership belongs to Thames
             Television / Pearson...  This no longer upsets me as I am now
             aiming for pastures new... 
Thanks to:   Kel for the beta and to both Tracey and Clare for saying nice
             things about this...


= = = = = = = = = = =
Classified Seduction
= = = = = = = = = = =

To highlight or not to highlight, that was the question.

A question that at that exact moment was weighing heavily on Rod Skase's
mind.  The highlighting in question was not however, as would normally be
the case, in regards to his hair. Currently Rod was quite happy with his
hair and didn't see any reason to mess with perfection.

With a heavy sigh, he leant both elbows on the desk and stared intently at
the newspaper in front of him.  The highlighter in his hand made the
seemingly natural progression to his mouth and he sucked idly on the end of
it.

To Don Beech, pretending to be busy on the other side of the office, it
looked as though Rod was studying the form guide.  A brief smile crossed
over Don's features.  Good lad! he thought before returning to his daydream
of backing every winner at the next race meet at Cheltenham.

Rod, for his part, wasn't even aware Don was in the office with him, let
alone that he had just been the object of his attention.  So deep in
contemplation was he that he could have been anywhere.  He sucked a little
harder on the end of the highlighter, rolling its smooth tip around his
tongue, unconsciously performing fellatio to the inanimate object.

As the highlighter continued slipping in and out of his mouth, Rod finally
came to a conclusion.  The answer being not to highlight as he didn't want
to make it too obvious.  Decision made, Rod turned his attention back to the
newspaper.  A quick perusal of the classifieds in front of him reaffirmed
his opinion that they were exactly what he was looking for, that they couldn
't fail.  Leaning back in his chair, he allowed a self-satisfied smile to
cross his face.

The whole scenario really was too perfect.  As with most things in Rod's
life, there was no doubt in his mind that his plan would work.  Not a
snowflake's chance in hell of it failing.  If confidence was alcoholic then
Rod would be constantly over the limit.  And he knew it.

Making a supreme effort, Rod pushed the beginning of his victory dance to
the back of his mind.  There was still a while before the rest of his plan
came to fruition.  In fact, a quick glance at his watch showed him that he
had only a few minutes left before he had to put part two of his great plan
into action.  His smile broadened as he grabbed the newspaper and placed it
carefully in the bottom drawer of his desk, concealing a packet of
half-eaten chocolate biscuits that had been placed there earlier in the day
with the loud declaration that under no circumstances was anyone to touch
them.  The biscuits  were the cheese in his mousetrap.

Rod got up from his chair and was unsettled to notice Don.  An unexpected
gnawing sense of unease washed over him.  He scowled.  Meadows had better
not  have changed the night shift roster around or Rod was going to get
tetchy.  Oh well, he thought when the shock had died down, there was only
one way to find out.

"Oi Don, what are you still doing here?"

Don, startled out of his reverie, looked up at Rod and blinked.  "Er, what's
the time?" he asked.

"Time for you to be going unless you're on tonight..."  Rod's voice trailed of
as he waited impatiently for Don to answer.

"Nope.  Not me."  Don looked at his watch.  "Shit.  You're right.  I was
supposed to be out of here ages ago."  He grabbed his jacket, muttered at
Rod that she - whoever the hell *she* was - was going to have his balls and
departed.  Leaving behind him a lingering smell of stale aftershave.

Rod wrinkled his nose as he made an attempt not to inhale any of the scent.
He hated Don's aftershave.  It always reminded him of his dentist, who used
the same the brand; and if there was one thing Rod hated more than cheap
aftershave, it was dentists.  Grabbing his coat, Rod looked around the
deserted office and felt the beginnings of excitement creep over him.  It
shouldn't be long now...

He switched the lights off and walked out of the room.  Walking down the
corridor to the stairs he passed his unsuspecting prey and in a complete
opposite to his true emotions, merely grunted at the other man as he walked
by.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Two hours later.

Tom Proctor was bored.  Not only was he bored, but he was also hungry.  He
stared glumly around the empty office, and, not for the first time, wished
he was back in uniform.  At least uniform usually had work to do if they
were stuck on night shift.  More to the point, they were never left alone in
an empty CID office killing time on the off-chance something might happen.

Tom very much doubted that anything was going to happen.  It never did.  Not
when he was on duty.  It was though the criminal element of Sun Hill went on
strike whenever he was alone on night shift.  Either that or they thought
that he wanted to spend countless hours being beaten by a computer playing
Minesweeper.

The level of boredom affecting Tom was so extreme that he even lacked the
inclination to get up and go to the canteen.  That would have required some
effort on his behalf and he didn't think he was capable of it.  Even though
he was starving.  Well, Tom *thought* he was starving but in reality
thinking about his stomach was only a way to combat the boredom.

A quick forage through all of his desk drawers proved futile.  Nothing
edible in any of them.  Unless you count a half-empty pack of throat
lozenges that expired six months go.  Tom didn't count the lozenges as
sustenance but stared intently at them regardless.  He was about to throw
caution to the wind and eat one when suddenly he remembered the chocolate
biscuits that Rod had stashed in the bottom drawer of his desk.  Now,
*there* was sustenance...

There was no moral dilemma about stealing some of Rod's biscuits.  As far as
Tom was concerned, the song and dance the other DC had made about placing
them there meant he was all but asking for them to be taken.

Getting up, he quickly made his way over to Rod's desk and sat down on the
chair.  He opened the drawer, pushed a newspaper impatiently out of the way
and triumphantly pulled out the biscuits.  Tom stuffed a biscuit into his
mouth and took a couple more out of the plastic tray in order to see him
through the rest of the night.  Chewing happily, he put the packet back in
the drawer and was about to replace the newspaper back over it when
something stopped him.  Without even knowing what the paper was, he decided
to have a read of it.  Give Minesweeper a break for a while.

Tom stuffed another biscuit in his mouth (he was not known for his delicate
eating skills), pulled the paper out of the drawer and turned on the desk
lamp.  As he laid the paper out on the desk he noticed that it had been
carefully folded in order to make a certain page easily accessible.  He read
the word 'Personals' across the top of the page.  Tom wondered briefly what
Rod was doing reading personal ads.  He'd never struck him as the sort of
person who'd need to resort to them.  With a shrug, Tom decided to see for
himself what Rod was apparently looking for.  He read the first ad.

"Good looking Bi guy, nice body, well-hung, looking for a hard body ready
for some hot action."

Oh...

Tom forgot that he had a half chewed biscuit in his mouth and nearly choked.
With an effort he managed to swallow it and sat staring numbly at the paper
in front of him. He could hardly believe what he had just read.  People
really advertised for this sort of thing?  Tom, although having seen a lot
during his time in the force, was still one of life's more naive types.  He
didn't even know how to access porn on the Internet.  Not that this lack of
knowledge ever stopped him from making jokes about such things.  It was what
a man was supposed to say and Tom acted accordingly.

Truth be told, Tom was a bit of a sheep.  Born to follow.  If someone with
more rank said to him jump he'd ask how high.  No question about it.

Whilst his first emotion was shock, both at the content and that it had come
from Rod's drawer, Tom's second emotion was that of curiosity.  Curiosity
that he tried to justify to himself as a function of boredom.  It wasn't
that he was into that scene.  Good heavens no.  Tom had never had a queer
thought in his life...  Well, that wasn't exactly true.  He'd been transfixed,
for example, by the way Rod had sucked on his pen all throughout the last
CID meeting, but that hardly counted.  No, it didn't count at all, he told
himself firmly.  It wasn't so much that he was homophobic.  It was more that
he had never really allowed himself to think about the possibilities.  Then
again, he'd never had cause to.

After quickly looking around the dimly lit office to reassure himself that
he was indeed the only person in the room, Tom read on.  As he read he felt
as though there was an entirely different world out there that he had never
really known existed.  Some of the ads were so explicit that he couldn't
help wondering if they ever got any responses.  "Dominant man, good looking,
40, masculine, nice cock.  Seeks totally submissive effeminate guys or
transsexuals who enjoy sucking and licking cock, receiving anal, B&D and
watersports."   Talk about not leaving anything to chance or the
imagination.

Some however were simply amusing.  "Gay male seeks guys 18-40 who are turned
on by socks, trainers, sandshoes or hi-tops, for friendship and/or fun."
Tom snickered to himself as he read that one.  What a thought, being turned
on by no doubt smelly trainers.  No, thank you.  Although, the guy with the
shoe fetish seemed like a dream compared to, "Country gay guy, fisting, let
me fist you soon.  Must be willing to travel.  Genuine men need only apply.
Let me give you a hand."  Not on your life mate, he thought with a shudder.
That was taking things too far.

Gradually it began to dawn on Tom that some of what he was reading was
beginning to vaguely turn him on.  A warmth settled over his groin and his
cock proved yet again that it had a mind of its own by starting to twitch.
Without even pausing to think about what he was doing, Tom reinforced the
stereotype that all men were slaves to their genitalia and slid his hand
down the waist of his suit trousers, his hand coming to a rest on the soft
cotton boxer-clad bulge of his hardening cock.  Tom closed his eyes and his
lips parted as he lightly stroked.  He was more than a little surprised to
realise that he was imagining another man's hand doing the stroking.

The slight surprise he felt at having homoerotic fantasies was nothing to
the complete and utter horror he felt when he heard a voice break into the
silence.

"I see you've found something that takes your fancy."

The voice sounded confident, too confident, and Tom knew that it was Rod
before he even opened his eyes.  Fuck.  Now he was in for it.

Quickly removing his hand from his trousers, Tom reluctantly opened his eyes
and looked everywhere but in the other officer's direction.  He could feel
himself blushing and was thankful for the lack of illumination in the room.
Taking a deep breath, Tom decided to try and simply ignore what he'd been
doing - which, like his cock, he knew would be hard - and went on the
defensive.

"I didn't know you had to resort to personal ads, Rod."

A brilliant grin flashed over Rod's face and he all but purred his answer.
"I don't..."

"Then what are you doing with this in your drawer?"  Tom knew he was onto a
losing streak but refused to give up without a fight.  If his shame was
going to be all over the office tomorrow then he wanted to be able to give
as good as he got.

Rod walked over to where Tom was sitting and casually leant over him.  This
action unsettled Tom but he couldn't do anything about it as Rod braced
himself, arms either side of him, on the desk.  He could feel the warmth
emanating from the other man and began to feel a little breathless.  What
was going on here?

"I like to know what's out there.  What's available should I choose to make
use of it."

Tom could feel Rod's breath on the back of his head as he talked.  The
situation was becoming all too surreal and it took a major effort to come up
with a response.

"So, have you ever responded to any of them?"

"No."  Quick response.  "I've never had the need."

"Oh."  Where the hell was this leading?  Tom's mind was beginning to give
up.  He had no idea what he was supposed to do in a scenario like this.  To
make matters worse, he still had his erection and with Rod leaning over him
like that, there was little hope of it going away.

His silence was no deterrent to Rod though, and he continued on regardless.
"I've thought about advertising though."

"Oh."  Again.  Tom began to think that his vocabulary only consisted of the
word 'oh'.

"Yeah.  Something along the lines of, 'Tall, good looking DC with dark hair
and a hard, smooth body seeks younger, thinner version of self for fun
times,'  what do you think?"

"Oh."  Oh, oh, oh....

"Oh?  Is that all you can say, Tom?  I've never known you to be so lost for
words."

Rod laughed and removing his hands from the desk, stood back.  Tom's mind
made a quick grab for control and he opened his mouth to query what Rod
thought he was doing.  The words quickly coming to a quick death as Rod's
hands rested momentarily on his shoulders before sliding down over his
chest.  All he could come out with was a few more, "Oh, oh"s."

Just as suddenly as they were there, the hands were gone and Tom thought he
could feel them coming to a rest lightly on the back of his chair. He was
right.  The chair he was sitting on was quickly spun around without warning
and Tom found himself being pulled to his feet.  He'd barely managed to gain
his balance before he felt himself being pulled into a tight embrace,
surprisingly soft lips settling on his.

For the lack of a better reaction, Tom clamped his lips shut and froze.  He
felt like he suddenly knew how Alice felt when she fell down the rabbit
hole.  This was all just too unbelievable for words.  He wanted to push Rod
off, to escape but couldn't gather enough energy to make the effort.  It was
though his limbs were against him.  They wouldn't do what they were told.
Tom told himself it was because Rod was larger than him and not because
being held so tightly was actually quite pleasant.  He also told himself
that he opened his mouth to protest and most definitely not to cautiously
return the kiss.

The minute Tom opened his mouth Rod took it as consent (defeat?) and slid in
his tongue.  The sensation of this action was unlike any Tom had ever felt
before, the strong, determined tongue gliding along his teeth so different
to the more delicate kiss of past girlfriends.  After the initial shock had
passed, Tom found that he was almost enjoying himself.  If nothing else, the
peculiar turn of events was alleviating his boredom.

A feeling of reluctant dismay washed over Tom as Rod drew back from the
kiss.  The embrace continued though and Tom, finally managing to regain
control of his limbs, wrapped his arms around Rod's back.  He was rewarded
with a brilliant smile and a brief, moist kiss to the tip of his nose.

"You know, I've wanted you for a long time..."

"Huh?"  Just when Tom thought the evening couldn't get any stranger, it did.

"Yeah...  If I can't beat you at work, then I have to have you.  I've just
been biding my time."

"You mean..."  Tom finally put two and two together and reached the conclusion
that he was a sitting target.  "You mean that you planned all of this?"  He
pulled back from the hug and indicated to the newspaper on the desk.

"Yep."  Rod nodded contently, folding his arms over his chest.  "I thought
it was a good plan.  And it's worked, hasn't it?"

Tom gaped and tried to feel angry.  He couldn't though -- Rod's plan had
indeed worked.  Without speaking, he shrugged his shoulders and looked
straight at the other man, his eyes giving Rod the affirmative answer.
Being wanted, for whatever reason, and by whoever, was still being wanted,
he thought.  Besides which, curiosity was now holding hands with his still
erect-cock.  An outcome to all of this needed to be reached, and, for Tom,
the sooner the better.  Using great control he managed to ask the obvious
question.

"So, now what?"

"I thought you'd never ask."  Another brilliant, victorious smile flashed
across Rod's face.  "How about I help to take some pressure off?"  Rod
pointed in the general direction of Tom's crotch.  Without waiting for an
answer he dropped to his knees in a beautifully fluid, silent movement and
crawled over to Tom until he was close enough to rest his hands on the other
man's waist.

The last rational thought to enter Tom's mind was that he was pleased that
there was a desk between him and the door.  His mind then deserted him, and
he stared dumbfounded as Rod made swift work of getting his trousers down
around his ankles.  He was barely even aware of the cool air on his thighs
before his boxers quickly followed suit.

The mantra of, 'oh, oh, oh' started up again and resonated through Tom's
head.  At the moment of impact between the tip of his cock and Rod's tongue
he couldn't have stopped what was happening even if he wanted to.  Which, by
this late stage in the proceedings, he very much didn't.

For a while, as Rod's tongue went to work, Tom closed his eyes and tried to
imagine that it was a woman's mouth that was giving him the most amazing
blow job of his life.  Then, he began to realise that no woman (in his
experience at least) was this talented and that he may as well enjoy the
sensation.  His eyes flew open and he watched in increasing astonishment the
sight of his slick, pulsating cock sliding in and out of the mouth of
another man.

Rod's face was a picture of concentration as he lavished affection on Tom's
hard shaft.  Tom saw that he looked perfectly, no, blissfully happy and was
just a little startled to come to the conclusion that perhaps this really
was what Rod had wanted.  This feeling added to Tom's excitement.  Who would
have thought?

The art of performing oral sex was one that Rod had long ago perfected and
it wasn't long before Tom shuddered to a climax.  All his unusual feelings
intensified as Rod swallowed what he could and, licking his lips with a
flourish, looked up at him and grinned.  Tom grinned back.  He felt as
though not only had a load been taken off his shoulders but also that there
were a great number of new possibilities out there for him to try.

Running his fingers through Rod's clean, dark hair, Tom was about to say
something when suddenly he heard the sound of another person entering the
room.  In rapid succession he pushed Rod's head down and quickly moved the
chair in front of him before turning around to face the intruder.  Tom bit
back a laugh when he saw who it was.  He didn't know who was more
embarrassed, the probationer, Luke Ashton or himself.

Tom cleared his throat and tried to surreptitiously nudge Rod with his knee
to keep him in check.

"Ah, Luke.  What can we, ah," he corrected himself, "I do for you?"

Luke had the expression of a man who could see something that he didn't
really want to, and, who was trying to convince himself that he hadn't
actually seen it.   It took a moment and a good many blinks before he
answered Tom.  When he finally did, Luke's voice sounded even quieter than
usual.

"Um...  Sergeant Cryer sent me up to tell you that there has been an armed
robbery at the BP service station on Bream Road.  And, uh,  he thought you
might want to get down there."

"Thanks for that, Luke.  I'll head down there in a moment."  Tom spoke
slowly, using all his control to remain behind the chair.  He really didn't
want to witness what the probationer's reaction would be if he saw his
nakedness.

Tom's response seemed to have no impact on Luke and the uniformed officer
continued to stand there, looking uneasy with his hands shoved deep in his
pockets.

Tom sighed loudly, wishing that Luke would just leave.  He didn't know how
much longer Rod could hold in the laughter that was threatening to spill out
of him.  Tom tried again.

"You can go now, Luke."

Luke blinked again and nodded.  "Yes, Sir.  I'll tell Sergeant Cryer that
you are on your way."  With that he turned on his heels and all but bolted
out of the office.  Not a second too soon either.

The probationer had barely departed when Rod started to shake with mirth.
The sound of his laughter echoed throughout the office.  Tom stood still for
a moment as though in shock before the absurdity of it all overwhelmed him
and he joined Rod in laughing.

Eventually the pair pulled themselves together.  Rod got off the floor and
helped Tom rearrange his clothing.  Tears of laughter were streaming out of
both of their eyes.  Tom had a stitch in his side.  Rod managed to regain
the ability to form a coherent sentence first.

"You do of course realise that Luke has probably never seen anything like
this before."

Tom choked back more laughter.  "That makes two of us then,"  he said before
reluctantly adding,  "Look, I'd better go.  Duty calls."

"Hmmm,  I suppose."  Rod looked briefly annoyed before shrugging his
shoulders and patting Tom on the shoulder.  "You're not night shift tomorrow
are you?"  The smile that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his
face intensified when Tom responded in the negative.  "Excellent.  I propose
then that we carry our activities over until then.  Of course, if that is
okay with you?"

Tom couldn't ignore the hopeful sound in Rod's voice.  He smiled and nodded.
"I think I can handle that."  To his utter delight he then succeeded in
surprising Rod by instigating a quick kiss on the lips before turning and
darting out of the office.  The last thing he saw was Rod standing behind
the desk, looking for all the world like the proverbial cat that had got the
cream.

As he went off in search of Sergeant Cryer, Tom wondered if he had the same
expression on his face.  He surely felt as though he should.

~end~