Title:        THE BILL - The Truth, The Whole Truth
Author:       Clare
Email:        clare@solomon29.freeserve.co.uk
Pairings:     Dale Smith/Nick Klein
Programme:    "The Bill"
Rating:       NC-17
Series:       None
Status:       Complete
Archive:      Yes
Disclaimer:   The characters and location herein belong to Pearson TV and
              no profit is being made from this story.
Summary:      PWP.  Sex.  That's it really!
Warnings:     M/M sexual interaction.
Comments:     This was inspired by the episode, 'PC Smith' and mentions it
              slightly so this is a spoiler warning.

"So are you queer or what?"

Nick Klein froze, a can of beer half-way to his lips, and stared at his
colleague in disbelief.  The question had come out of thin air and he
didn't know how on earth to answer it; not if he wanted to live.

He and Smiffy had gone out drinking together after their work shift and
had ended up back at his place.  Well, his parents' place to be exact,
but they were in Majorca on holiday for another nine days, so he was
alone here with the other man.

What had he done to give himself away?  Nick had been attracted to
Smiffy from virtually the moment they'd met.  It was partly his looks -
he certainly wasn't immune to 'tall, dark and handsome' - but was more
to do with his personality.  The man was so controlled and serious; it
just compelled a person to imagine what he could be like if he let go.
The first time after meeting Smiffy that he'd closed his eyes for a
fantasy to fuel his own touch, an image of the man had immediately
sprung to mind: that strong, pale ex-Army body; the intense blue eyes
glazed with passion.  He imagined being pressed down onto a bed, that
lightly muscled body on top of him, flesh meeting, melding . He tried
to tell himself he was insane, that Smiffy would murder him if he ever
got a hint of these feelings, but this knowledge only added an extra
fire to the fantasies.

"Why do you ask?" he said, trying to buy himself time, but Smiffy just
rolled his eyes and kept looking at him.  He stared down at the
Budweiser he was clutching in suddenly clammy hands and took a deep
breath, trying to sound calm as he said,   "Yeah, actually.  Bisexual."

"Thought so."  Smiffy took a gulp of his own beer then glanced at the
television the other side of the room.  "I wonder if the footie scores
will be on TV yet."

"You *what*?"  Nick exclaimed.  "You can't just ask that then change
the subject!"

Smiffy's gaze swivelled round to meet that of his colleague, expression
calm to the point of disinterest.  "Okay, then.  What else do you want
to mention?  Anyone at the Station you're interested in?"

*Shit*!  He'd really walked into that one.  "What made you realise I
was interested in men?" Nick asked, evading the question.

"It was obvious on that gay case."

He was clearly talking about the minding job they'd had a couple of
weeks ago, keeping an eye on a gay couple, one of whom was due to give
evidence in court about an assault.  Nick frowned, trying to work out
what he could have said or done to reveal he was bisexual.  "How do you
mean?"

"Well, for a start you volunteered for the case.  That's suspicious in
itself," judged the most un-PC PC at Sunhill.  "And you knew the name
of that gay club.  It was just your whole attitude."

"So why haven't you mentioned it until now?"

Smiffy shrugged.  "Dunno really.  I was thinking it over, trying to
decide if it would bother me if you said you were gay.  I didn't intend
to say anything tonight only I think I'm a bit pissed."  He gave a
little laugh at this point and Nick smiled in response, then told
himself to get a grip.

"So, does it bother you?"

"No, it doesn't seem to," the man said with a thoughtful look, as if he
were studying his own feelings as he spoke.  Then his gaze sharpened
and focused on Nick.  "Why d'you do it?  Wha's the appeal of gettin'
off wiv a bloke?"

Now it was Nick's turn to shrug, trying to act casually while his body
was held in a grip of fear.  Smiffy wasn't giving his feelings away but
Nick felt as if he were walking a tight-rope, every word he said
potentially fatal.  "The same thing as sex with a woman.  You meet
someone, you fancy them."

"Do you fancy me?"

Nick couldn't breath for a moment; his jaw clenched and his body went
cold. The two men just looked at each other for what seemed like an
eternity, the atmosphere crawling with tension, then Smiffy nodded once
and looked away. "Fing is, I've been wondering about it lately, and
about you.  Wondering what it would be like."

The words didn't make any sense to Nick.  He repeated them in his head,
but it didn't help: there was no way that Dale Smith could have said
what he thought he'd just said.

"Well, say or do *something*!" Smiffy told him in an angry voice, and
it hit Nick that the other man was as scared of this whole conversation
as he was. This knowledge caused him to leave his armchair and venture
onto the sofa next to the man.  As their eyes met this time there was a
different kind of tension, one that made the atmosphere crackle and
burn.  Nick reached out his hand to that of the other man, heart
thudding from fear as much as arousal, some part of him still convinced
he'd misread the whole situation. Smiffy's fist was clenched at his
side, knuckles white.  Nick ran his fingers over the skin and felt as
much as heard his colleague's intake of breath.   His touch moved up
Smiffy's arm, discovering a knot of taut muscle beneath the flesh.
*He's got to respond soon* he told himself; *either kiss me or hit me*.

Smiffy was wearing a black T-shirt which caressed the contours of his
body and Nick could see the man's chest moving up and down with each
deep breath he took.  His own body felt as if a volcano had erupted
inside it, sending molten lava rushing through him.  At this rate, he
wasn't sure if either of them would survive a kiss.

He inched closer until their torsos were all but touching, his hand
still on Smiffy's arm.  He raised his eyes to the other man's face.  It
felt as if every moment was passing in slow motion, his body living and
dying with every second.  He only caught a glimpse of Smiffy's blue
eyes, the colour of a tropical cloudless sky when the temperature was
at its hottest . Then Smiffy was on top of him like a hungry animal,
their bodies entwined, and they kissed, and kept kissing, exploring
each other's mouths with a longing bordering on desperation.

It hit Nick, when they paused for air, that this was exactly what he
used to fantasise: Smiffy on top of him, wanting him.  *And I don't
even believe in miracles!*  He couldn't keep his hands still now that
they'd got going; they 'd found their way inside Smiffy's T-shirt and
the velvet heat of his back just had to be explored.  He turned, mind
lost in the sensations their bodies were sharing, and the next moment
they both landed on the floor.

"Shit!"  He looked around him dazedly.

"The sofa wasn't big enough," Smiffy said, his eyes roaming over Nick's
body.  "How big's your bed?"

"Bigger," was the only word Nick could think of when the other man was
looking at him like that.

A gleam of amusement entered Smiffy's passion-fogged eyes and the man
got to his feet.  He held out his hand to Nick, who took it and let
himself be pulled up.  His bedroom was a mess, but Smiffy didn't seem
to notice and, when the man started to remove his T-shirt, Nick wasn't
noticing anything else either.   Shoes, socks, jeans, and Nick's blue
shirt joined the T-shirt on the floor.  They sat on the bed.  And
stared at each other.  And Nick took the opportunity to be jumper -
rather than just jumpee - and fell onto the taller man, kissing him and
descending with him onto the mattress.  To his surprise, Smiffy didn't
immediately turn them around, but lay passively, holding onto Nick,
apparently happy to let him take the initiative.  *It's his first time
with a bloke,* Nick remembered, the idea sending another rush of
adrenaline through his body.  *Let's make it unforgettable.*

He gradually moved down Smiffy's body, kissing and licking neck, chest
and flat stomach along the way.  When he took the man's cock into his
mouth, Smiffy groaned something unintelligible, back arching off the
bed.  Nick sucked, relishing the taste and the responses of the other
man's body to him.  He was so caught up in it that Smiffy's orgasm tore
them both apart, and he lay and gasped for a while before he shakily
pulled himself back up the bed.

He leaned on one elbow to look down into Smiffy's face.  The man looked
exhausted but happy.  Nick wasn't sure he'd ever seen him looking
genuinely happy before and the expression caused a warmth inside
himself that distracted him from his own aching body and its pleas for
attention.

"Thanks," Smiffy said, embarrassed self-consciousness flickering onto
then off from his face.

Nick watched him, hooked like an addict to the man.  Every expression
was worth storing in his memory; every bit of Smiffy's body needed to
be explored.  If it was over after tonight, he wasn't sure he'd survive
the Cold Turkey, wasn't sure he'd want to.

"C'mere."  Smiffy's fingers dug into Nick's arms, urging him forward.
He sank onto the pliant body and closed his eyes as the man lifted a
leg across his and wound arms around his body, deepening their embrace.
Pleasure reached an intensity where it bordered on pain and, when he
felt Smiffy's penis swell as it pressed against his, instinct took
over.  He ground their bodies together, desire like a physical entity
controlling his movements. Smiffy's hand grasped at his and he lifted
it onto the pillow above the man' s head, and held on as if his life
depended on it.  The man's face felt cooler than his own scalding skin
and he rubbed against it, before Smiffy's head turned and they kissed,
joined mouths muffling the groans they made as their bodies writhed
together.  Pleasure pinnacled and he froze for a lifetime, then
collapsed, drained, against the damp body of his lover.

Some time later, his first thought - well, more of a realisation - was
that Smiffy had come for a second time when he had.  He snuggled
closer, wrapping an arm round the other man, contentment falling over
him like a blanket. Which was something he could do with about now, as
his body began to cool.

"Quilt?" he suggested, this being the most coherent sentence he was
capable of achieving just now.

"'Kay."  Smiffy seemed to have the same problem.  They shuffled and
manoeuvred until they'd got beneath the quilt then, once more wrapped
in each other's arms, darkness descended.

He jolted awake as the mattress swayed beneath him.  His eyes opened
and he blinked at the harshness of the daylight.  They hadn't drawn the
curtains. They.  Smiffy!

His focus sharpened and he looked about him.  Smiffy was sitting up
beside him, rubbing his eyes.   His brown hair stood on end and his
expression, revealed when he removed his hands, was dopey in the
extreme.  Nick grinned. "'Morning."

Smiffy turned his head, looked down at him, and smiled.  "I need to
pee," he informed Nick and headed out to the bathroom.

"Love you too," he commented to the empty room, then stretched and
relaxed, content to lie and wait for his lover's return.  Did the word
'lover' apply after one night? he asked himself.  If not, then if he
had anything to do with it, it soon would.

THE END