Jimmy Has a Few Bad Days

Maurice, a slashfic in two parts

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairing: Jimmy Doherty/Maurice Boscorelli (with a cameo appearance by Bobby Caffey)

Disclaimer: "Third Watch," with its related characters and themes, does not belong to me. I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Skippy from Kicking and Screaming, for Parker Posey and her "ding" diatribe, and for Ewan McGregor.

Wherein questions are asked: is Bosco circumcised?; are Davis and Nieto having an affair?; and which came first, the sex or the love?

Notice: I realize that according to the first episode it would be a lot more likely if Bosco had a history with Sully, but I prefer Jimmy because I'm shallow and lookist.

"Maurice" Part One: Jimmy Has a Few Bad Days

Jimmy was a firefighter. A fireman. One of those people who ran right into danger and regularly risked death. Part of his job was the dramatic rescue, charging up with the siren and the lights, all flash and noise, drama and danger, dashing into a burning building and running back out holding a saved child. It was a great job for him, because he got to play hero and take credit for saving lives, and he could go for the adrenaline rush and the dramatics.

But cops, cops were different. Cops did the whole "serve and protect" deal. They were out there every day, dealing face-to-face with the people. They had to put up with the complainants and the trivialities. They had to deal with the fighters and the recalcitrants. They had to deal with the drugged out and the hyped up. They had to deal with shootings, both the aftermaths and the actual getting shot at part. It was dangerous and it was mundane and it was never-ending.

Jimmy knew that he couldn't be a cop. He didn't have it in him. He didn't have the dedication or the patience or the inner strength. He was, to be honest, a little awed by cops. Not that he'd ever let them know that. Some of them, some of them were really good at their jobs, and not necessarily the ones you'd assume.

Take Bosco. Bosco was hot-headed and unthinking. On the other hand, Bosco was out there, doing the job, collaring the perps, restoring order. Who better to deal with the assholes of NYC than Bosco? What impressed him most was that, even though he knew what a major asshole Bosco was, Bosco could get the job done. And, to be honest, Bosco could totally kick his ass. Not that he'd ever gotten into a physical fight with Bosco, but he knew that cops were trained to win any fight in any situation. That was pretty cool.

Jimmy had gone out with plenty of people since Kim. Check that: plenty of women. He could be with a man, he knew it; with his body and his dimples, he could get anybody he wanted. He'd looked at men, checked them out, felt attracted, but he'd never done anything about it...except that one time. Women were easier. He'd almost gone for it with Bobby, but he knew that Kim wouldn't like that, so he'd stepped back and kept his hands to himself. Not literally; he wasn't prone to masturbation, since he could get someone else to touch him. He didn't have a lot of money, but he had the "firefighter as hero" image working for him, plus the dimples and the charm. He always could find a woman (or two) to keep the edge off.

The past week or two, though, he'd been enjoying the edge. His cock was eager, his hands were hungry, and his tongue was lonely for another in his mouth. He'd turned down sex to maintain the feeling. His balls felt heavy, and he knew he'd end up unloading them in somebody's pussy tonight. Even Kim was starting to look good again. Hell, Sully looked good.

They got another call for a cat-up-a-tree thing, except this was an old woman. They went out to the call and found Bosco leaning one arm against the tree impatiently while Yokas talked to the elderly woman high in the branches.

"About time," Bosco said.

"Oh, were you waiting for us?" Jimmy asked, setting up the ladder. "Excuse me, ma'am, would you like some help?"

"Be careful," Faith said.

"I've done this before," he assured her.

"Did the last person up a tree have one of these?" Bosco asked, holding up a gun.

"She had a gun?" he asked, taken aback.

"No, I took this from Faith," Bosco said. "Yes, she had a gun, she was shooting at us!"

"She's trying to commit suicide," Faith said. "Could you get her down, please? Faster?"

Jimmy hurried up to the woman. "Excuse me, ma'am, will you please come with me?" he asked, putting on his solemn polite tone of voice, dimples at full force.

"You get away from me!" she shouted.

"I'm afraid that I can't do that," he said.

"Come on, lady, how often do you get tall dark and handsome trying to carry you off?" Bosco demanded. "Just give him your hand and let's go!"

"Bosco!" Faith said.

"Are you circimcised?" the woman asked.

Holy shit, she was loony. "Ma'am?"

"Say yes," Bosco ordered.

"Yes. Will you take my word for it?" Jimmy asked.

"You're sure, now?"

"I'm sure," he said.

"He's not," she said suspiciously.

Jimmy glanced down; Bosco turned away; Jimmy frowned and turned back to the woman. "Who, Bosco? Bosco's an asshole. Don't worry about him."

"What do you say we pull down the ladder?" Bosco asked Faith.

"Sounds good," Faith said.

The woman held out her hand; Jimmy pulled her close, wrapped her up carefully, and came down the ladder. When he set her on her feet, she glared at Bosco. "Give me my gun."

"I'm not giving you jack shit, lady," Bosco said. "You were shooting at us."

"It's private property. I know my rights."

"That's it. You're under arrest," Faith said. "Hey, thanks," she said to the firefighters.

"So, are you?" one of them asked Bosco.

"The second that's your business I'll be sure to send out a bulletin," Bosco said, cuffing the woman while Faith started the rights.

He ran into Bosco the next day outside of the stationhouse. "So that woman yesterday, the one in the tree. How'd you get the gun?"

"Climbed up the tree and took it from her," Bosco said.

"While she was shooting at you?" he asked.

"Yeah." Bosco looked halfway like someone who didn't care, and halfway defensive.

"That's really really really fucking stupid, Bosco," Jimmy said, shaking his head.

"Thanks, Faith. She stopped shooting, didn't she?"

"Probably because she was too busy staring at the crazy idiot in front of her. So that's how they train you guys? They teach you to walk up to the psycho shooters?"

"This from a man who makes his living walking into fire," Bosco said.

Jimmy hadn't taken the edge off yet. It had started to recede, as his body adjusted to the idea that it wasn't getting release. But now, oh now, all cylinders were pumping. He wanted to crawl right into Bosco's clothes, into Bosco's skin. The urge was climbing up his cock, pressing it high in his jeans as his balls tightened. Yeah, he was on, baby. Only why oh why had his stupid libido decided to pick Bosco? In the way back secret corners of his mind, yes, he liked Bosco, even admired Bosco. But he didn't want Bosco; there was no sexual attraction. Now, suddenly, his body was chortling with glee over its proximity to the lean tight cop.

"Bos, let's go," Faith said, coming up to them.

"Later, Doherty," Bosco said, leaving with Faith.

That night, Jimmy took home two women.

The next day was one of the worst of Jimmy's life. Right up there with the day that his father had left. Right up there with the day that he thought that his son wasn't his son. Right up there with the day that...someone else left him, someone whose loss hurt more than Kim leaving, hurt more than his father leaving in some weird dark place deep inside.

Some people would consider it the day that Nieto started working with them. Some people would consider it the day that Jerry got shot. But Jimmy, Jimmy considered it the day that Bosco almost died again.

They showed up on the scene, and he considered it like any other fire, and they dealt with the car parked in the way, and they headed off to do their work, and everything was okay, and then Yokas told him that Bosco was in the building. Bosco was lost somewhere inside a burning building.

He ran in, and he tore through the smoke. He found Bosco with a woman and child, and he dragged them out, and he had no idea how much smoke they'd inhaled, and if Bosco didn't die he was going to kill the bastard himself.

Bosco always did something like this, always ran off headfirst without thinking, always took off right into danger. How many times could it work? How many times could Bosco run into a situation with nothing more than arrogance and come out alive?

Bosco was fine, of course. Bosco was born lucky, Jimmy was informed with that arrogant bored look, and then Bosco was off again. Jimmy couldn't stand it, couldn't handle it. So he did something stupid, and even he knew that it was stupid, but it helped, in some weird way; he flirted with Kim. His ex-wife. They weren't together anymore, but they still worked together, they still did things together, they even slept together sometimes. And he knew that she and Bobby probably knew exactly what he was doing, and why. Or maybe they didn't. After all, except for Kim, Jimmy's exes were exactly that, exes, past, gone, nothing. He didn't bother with them; he didn't care about them.

Not that he really had many exes. He had more one night stands than he could remember, and a few women he'd seen more than once, but he'd never really gotten into a relationship. Except for Kim. And...that one time.

Bosco and Faith headed for their car.

"Hey Bosco!" one of the firemen shouted. "Bosco!"

"What!" Bosco shouted back, opening the car door.

"We just got a video over here, you want to watch it?"

"What?" Faith asked him. He shook his head at her, not knowing where this was going, not wanting to know.

"Yeah, it's a biography," another guy called. "Of some French dude."

"What?" Faith asked again.

"It's called Maurice Uncut!" the first man shouted. The whole station house burst into laughter, applause, and catcalls.

Bosco got into the car and slammed the door.

"Maybe I should drive," Faith said, getting in beside him.

"I'm going to kill them," Bosco said. "With my bare hands." He revved the engine and pulled out fast.

"Come on, what's the big deal?" she asked. "Lots of guys aren't circumcised. I don't know why it matters."

"It doesn't."

"I always thought you were. I don't know why."

"Because I am, okay?"

"What?"

"I'm circumcised."

"What? Then why did you lie to that woman?"

"I figured she was asking for a reason. I don't know what reason, but she was loony anyway, so I figured... Look, can we drop it?"

"Are you or aren't you?"

"Why do you care?"

"You know who I can ask."

"Anybody in the locker room."

"Doherty."

"You are not asking him anything about me."

"He was upset yesterday."

"Why, because he didn't get to catch the baby that woman threw? Or because he's not the one everyone's worried about in the hospital?"

"Bosco."

"Sorry."

"He was upset about you."

"Me? What'd I do now?"

"Bos, you ran into a burning building without backup, unprepared-"

"I had backup."

"Yeah, me, except your radio was off. I was worried. So was Doherty."

"Nice of him to pretend to care. What, he was afraid he'd get in trouble for a cop dying on his watch?"

"You need to back off."

"I don't need jack shit."

Later that evening, they brought in two men who'd been trying to rob a gas station. On their way out again, planning to stop by Faith's apartment for a minute, they noticed a few of the firefighters hanging around outside again. When the men noticed Bosco, they hooted and laughed.

"That is it!" Bosco shouted, throwing down his hat, marching across the street.

"Bos," Faith said, wanting to stop a confrontation but seeing that it was too late.

"You got something to say to me?!" Bosco demanded of the first fireman he met.

"You gonna arrest me?" the man asked.

"I'd be happy to," Bosco said.

"Go ahead, Bosco," the man said. "Whip out your...cuffs."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you, Riley?" Bosco asked. "You wanna see how a real man looks?"

"I don't see how you'd know anything about a real man," Riley said.

"Bosco!" Faith said sharply. "Is there a problem here?" she asked the firemen.

"Stay out of it, Faith," Bosco said.

"I'm just thinking that they seem a little too interesting in what you're packing," she said. "I'm just thinking that unless they want someone noticing their undue interest..."

"Whoa," Riley said, holding up his hands and stepping back quickly. "No thank you."

"Good night, gentlemen," Faith said, and walked away with Bosco. The men went back into the stationhouse. As Bosco picked up his fallen hat, Faith glanced over again and noticed Jimmy standing by the truck. Jimmy saw her looking and disappeared again.

The next evening, while Bosco got the radio, Faith slipped outside and across the street. Kim was just there, and Faith said, "Hey."

"Hey," Kim said. "You need something?"

"Is Jimmy around?"

"Sure, he's upstairs. Anything I need to know about?"

"Nah," Faith said, and went up the stairs. Seeing Bobby, she said, "Where's Jimmy?"

"He's over there. Something going on?"

"Nah," she said, and went to where Jimmy was bench-pressing. Okay, now that was impressive. "Jimmy."

"Yokas." Jimmy stopped, and his spotter left them. "You need something?" Jimmy asked, sitting up, wiping off sweat.

"I just have a couple of questions."

"I broke the law?"

"I hope not. Personal questions."

He nodded, rose, shut the door. "Yeah?" he asked, arms over his chest.

"Flashing your pecs and your dimples gets you nowhere with me, Doherty," she said. "Just so you know."

"Got it." He smiled.

She rolled her eyes. "Your friends around here have been hassling Bosco again. Not that he doesn't deserve it. Not that I expect you to ask them to stop."

"So?"

"So I noticed the other day, at the fire. When you ran in after Bosco."

"It's my job, Faith. And it's not his."

"So it bothers you."

"Yes it bothers me. We don't need idiots running into burning buildings. It means more work for us, more danger for everyone involved. Now we have more people to save and more lives to risk."

"And that's it."

"What more do you want?"

"Is Bosco circumcised?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Is he?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Because he's not telling and I figure you'd know better than anyone."

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember."

"No." He crossed his arms again.

"You know what? It's too bad you dumped him. You two deserve each other." She left, quickly, hurrying back across the street. She didn't know why she bothered, why she cared. Except that Bosco was her partner, and she loved him, for no good reason. Besides Fred and her kids, Bosco was the one steady person in her life, the person she depended on and counted on and cared about and looked out for and... Cops, partners, were close. It was like a marriage, that partnership. Sometimes cops were closer to their work partners than their real life spouses. She knew that she was Bosco's best friend, the person closest to him, these days. There had been someone else, once, someone closer, but that was shot to hell and all too brief.

"Where've you been?" Bosco asked, waiting for her on the sidewalk.

"I had to talk to somebody."

"Who?"

"Somebody."

"Who!"

"Doherty."

"What? Why are you talking to that-"

"Get in the car, Bos."

"Faith-"

"Get in the car." She got in on the driver's side. Bosco got in beside her, closing the door.

"What?"

"I asked him if you're circumcised."

"What? Why did you do that? Why do you care so much?"

"Believe me, I don't."

"Then why'd you ask-"

"So I asked him," Faith continued. "And you know what he said?"

"I don't want to know what that-"

"He said that he didn't remember."

"He doesn't remember?" Bosco repeated. "He doesn't - - motherf-"

"I mean, what, he had the thing in his hand, his mouth, his-"

"Faith!"

"I'm just saying. I'm just guessing. But I figure he at least saw it once. Can I assume that he at least saw it once? Enough to know whether it's cut or not?"

"Would you stop?"

"So how could he not remember?"

"The experience was too good and it wiped out his memory," Bosco snapped.

"Bos, no offense, but even you can't be that good."

"You have no idea. I'm a god."

"You can't be too memorable."

"That motherfucker. I'm going to kick his ass."

"Go for it."

"I could, you know."

"I know."

"Bastard."

"I have an idea."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Okay."

Two hours passed.

"So what's your idea?"

"Make him remember."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"What, and get arrested for indecent exposure, public-"

"You don't have to do it in public, Bos."

"What, you want me to go over to his apartment, where he probably has two women stashed already, and whip it out and make him look?"

"Something like that. The details are up to you."

"You are insane."

"So don't do it."

"I'm not going to."

"Up to you."

"And thank you ever so much for speculating on how I have sex."

"It was just a guess."

"Don't guess."

"Bosco, I'm an adult. I know how people have sex. I know how men have sex. Unless you spent the entire time completely clothed and he never touched you."

"Might as well have."

"He wasn't any good?"

"I am not talking about this with you."

"Just asking."

"I mean, it was years ago."

"Months."

"Whatever."

"Seven months."

"Ages. Eons. Ancient history. I barely remember it."

"Then you're even."

Two weeks later, there was another incident, all too similar to the previous one. There was a fire, and Bosco and Faith were the first on the scene. Faith turned to the people who'd just exited the building, trying to get information, and Bosco ran inside when she turned her back. She shouted and called but got no answer. Then three little children, no more than six years old, came running out. A moment later, a woman came and grabbed them.

The firetruck came screaming up the street. As the men jumped off and set up the hoses, Faith shouted, "Bosco's inside!"

"The man?" the woman with three children asked. "The man? He saved us. He saved my children."

"Do you know where he went?" Faith asked.

There was an explosion. The children screamed. Faith couldn't judge what it had been, where it had come from, but it was inside the building, and the fire was much worse, and Bosco was in there.

"I'm going in," Jimmy said.

"Doherty! You're going nowhere!" the captain shouted.

"There are people in there!" Faith shouted. "Bosco's in there!"

"It's too dangerous!" the captain disagreed. "Doherty! It's too hot! The whole thing's falling apart on us. We need you out here. You go in there you die. You have a son, Jimmy."

"We're wasting time," Jimmy said. Just as he spoke, there was another explosion, and nothing as simple as a window.

"Doherty!" the captain shouted. "Get over here!"

There was a shadow in the smoke at the door. The shadow became a shape: two men. A man, and Bosco. The man was staggering and coughing; Bosco was holding a child, a young girl. Bosco dropped to his knees as the paramedics rushed to help.

"I'm going to kill him," Faith said. "I'm going to kill him."

"Doherty!" the captain shouted. Jimmy snapped into action, running over to the hoses.

Bosco wasn't as lucky this time as last, and had to go to the hospital for smoke inhalation. He was more worse off than any of the people he'd saved, and no one had died in the fire. When he was discharged, Faith wanted to hug him or strangle him or leave him to walk home. Instead she said, "You do that again and you won't have to worry about circumcision because I will castrate you and it'll be useless anyway. Do you hear me?"

"You talk to your kids like this?"

Out of nowhere, something large and solid was right there. Jimmy Doherty grabbed Bosco by the collar and slammed Bosco back hard against the brick of the hospital wall. "Don't you ever, fucking ever, do that again, Boscorelli."

"Whoa, Jimmy," Faith said.

"Yeah?" Bosco asked. "And what if I do?"

"I'll kill you myself to make sure it gets done. I am not putting up with your shit any longer."

"What do you care? I saved people you were too late to save. You weren't the one risking your ass today."

"Jimmy, come on. He's hurt," Faith said. "Jimmy!"

Jimmy let go. Bosco doubled over, coughing.

"What are you doing here?" Faith asked.

Jimmy, eyes still on Bosco's bent form, said, "On my way home."

"You don't live anywhere near here."

"Stopped by to check on Jerry. He's not any better."

"Yeah, I checked in myself."

Bosco straightened and glared at Jimmy, jaw tight. "You're lucky I don't kick your ass right now, Doherty."

"Yeah?" Jimmy asked. "Are you brain damaged or something? What are you doing, running into a burning building? That's my job, not yours. You don't have the training or the gear for it."

"To serve and protect, that's what I do, that's my job. There were people who needed my help and I saved their lives. So don't you tell me-"

"You could have died!"

"You don't fucking give a rat's ass whether I live or die so don't pretend that you do!"

Faith saw a look of pure pain that went deeper than those perfect dimples. But Bosco was walking away, and she had to follow. And she knew that Bosco would never, ever cry in front of her, so she stayed quiet and pretended not to notice the silver tracks sliding down his cheeks when she drove him home.

It was testosterone. That's all that it was. Pent-up excesses of testosterone. All he had to do was get laid: problem solved. He hadn't gotten laid in too long, way too long. Not since those two women.

Not since Bosco ran into the building.

And now Bosco had done it again. Worse this time.

He hadn't gotten laid in weeks. Once he shot his load he'd be okay again, and he wouldn't have insane urges to push ex-lovers against buildings and do things to them. Hit them. Kiss them. Strangle them. Make love to them.

Why did he care? Bosco pulled this shit all of the time. Maybe it was selflessness. Maybe it was misguided heroism. Maybe it was a plea for attention. Maybe it was insanity. But Bosco always ran into a fire, or gunfire, or something very high-risk without thinking twice.

The lieutenant couldn't get Bosco to stop, Faith couldn't get Bosco to stop, why did he think that he could?

And for one second, he'd had Bosco close again, in his face, under his hands. Vulnerable. Passionate. So close to violence. So close to sex.

He'd never done anything like that before, not with Bosco. He didn't get violent with his one-night stands or his lovers, didn't shove them around or hit them. And he hadn't let it get out of control last night, either, hadn't punched or strangled Bosco. Because he didn't want to hurt Bosco. He didn't. He couldn't. He just wanted to shake some sense into that stubborn stupid brainless head.

He knew that it could happen. That a cop could have a bad day and get hurt. Maybe it was intentional, maybe unconscious. A misstep, a false move, and the perp's bullets hit their mark.

And maybe Bosco thought that no one would notice if he died, that no one cared so it would be okay. The only person Bosco would leave behind was Faith, who had a husband and kids and a life anyway. He obviously didn't think that Jimmy would care.

And he didn't care. He didn't. Jimmy didn't care. He wasn't the caring type. He was wired for one-night stands, for charming and smooth-talking and flashing his dimples. He wasn't the kind of guy who stuck around, who got involved, who let anything get heavy. One night with someone was enough for him; three nights and he was gone. He got itchy, restless; he rarely even stayed to sleep if it wasn't his place. He just couldn't do it.

He had done it. With Kim. For a while. Even got married. Had a kid. But he sucked as a husband, and he sucked worse as a father.

And god he sucked Bosco. Hands on those trim hips, kneeling between those lean thighs, sucking down that-

Shit.

Bosco stepped onto the sidewalk, tugging at the wristbands of his shirt.

"You're not cold?" Faith asked.

"I don't get cold."

"I'll remind you of that come January when you're bitching at me all night about how cold you are."

"You do that."

"Doherty!" The call made them both look. Jimmy was at the station, zipping up his coat, saying his good-byes.

Faith shook her head. "I'm going home. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Bosco said. "See you."

"You want to stop for coffee first?"

"Nah. Go home."

"You sure? I got time."

"Go home, Faith."

"Okay. Bye."

Bosco walked to his car, wishing he had his gloves, or at least his jacket.

"You cold?" Jimmy's voice was right behind him.

"Fuck off."

"You got a second?"

"Not for you." This making of requests was new. It had been a long time since he'd heard Jimmy say anything like that to him. A long time. He unlocked his car.

"I need a ride home."

"Ask one of your macho fireman friends." There was no way he was looking anywhere near those dark brown eyes.

"Bosco-"

"Call a cab. Take the subway. Walk." He was not going to look, not not not going to look into those dark brown eyes.

"Bosco-"

"Fuck off." Bosco got in his car and drove away fast.

The next evening, when Faith asked him why his mood was worse than usual, he actually told her. He didn't know why he told her. It wasn't like it mattered, or like it was her business, or like he even cared. But he told her anyway. And when they departed that night, she said, "Jimmy needs a ride again."

"Tough shit."

"I'm not asking you to give him one. I'm just saying. Don't you think he has to be pretty desperate to ask you for a ride?"

"So what, his car's in the shop? He has friends, they can drive him home."

"He's already asked them a dozen times each. He's probably too embarrassed to keep asking."

"He can take the subway."

"You take it often enough, it starts to add up."

"So?"

"He needs money again."

"I don't believe this-"

"Bos. He hasn't been gambling. Not for seven months. Seven months, Bos, that's a real good start. But he owes. He still has debts, and they're not getting paid. He doesn't have a car anymore. Between putting food on the table, paying off these guys, and he's trying to give Kim some child support-"

"Oh my bleeding heart."

"He's trying. He's really trying. Even Kim says so. Even Bobby says so."

"Well, if Bobby says so..."

"I'm not saying you should do anything. I'm not saying you should care. I'm just telling you what's happening."

"Seven months?"

"Seven and a half. He hasn't been to the track once since..."

"Since what?"

"Since he broke up with you."

"Well, ditch me, stop gambling, get rid of all bad habits and start a better life."

"That's not what I meant."

"I'm going home."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Faith."

"Yeah?"

"How much does he owe?"

"I don't know. Kim figures ten thousand, but you know he wouldn't tell her how bad it really is."

Jimmy was benchpressing when he heard comments and whistles. Wondering what was happening, he heard Riley say, "You here to arrest me? That overdue library book back in second grade, I knew it would come back to haunt me."

"I have a gun, you have an axe. Guess which one wins." Bosco. Bosco's voice. "Hey, Kim, you got a second?"

"I always have time for you, Bosco," Kim's voice said. "Stub your toe or something? Need urgent medical attention?"

"Some mouth-to-mouth might be nice."

"We can talk over here."

Jimmy kept pumping iron, keeping his mind clear and focused, not thinking about why Bosco would want to see Kim. Either something was wrong with Joey or...or what? Something had happened to Kim's mom? Or was Bosco about to arrest him for something and wanted to warn Kim first? It was possible. Bosco knew about the gambling. Knew that Jimmy knew bookies, knew that Jimmy could roll over on a lot of shady gambling deals.

Roll over...

He remembered rolling over, waking up and rolling over and finding Bosco there, asleep, pale and naked and, for once, peaceful, still, quiet, calm. Looking at Bosco, asleep on one side, facing him, sheets pulled up to midwaist, that tight body only half exposed, Bosco's dark lashes-

Shit.

About half an hour later he passed Kim and she said, "Stick around after work."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

"I'd better."

So, when his shift ended, he hung around for a while. Sat on the back of his truck in the garage, in the darkness, alone, waiting. The evening was almost deserted, for New York. He heard Kim's voice, and footsteps, and Kim's voice again. And then he heard footsteps he knew, a quick arrogant stride, and Bosco was in the darkness with him.

"Here."

He looked. Took it. An envelope of money. His gut clenched.

Bosco turned to go.

"No."

"No what?" Bosco stopped walking, faced him in the darkness.

"I don't want this."

"You need it."

"Who told you? Kim told you?"

"Word gets around."

"I don't want your money, Bosco."

"Then give it to Joey. Hand it to someone on the street. Give it to Greenpeace, I don't give a shit."

"Why are you doing this?"

"You need it."

"I didn't-"

"You did once. You came to me for help one time and I helped you. You didn't come this time, and if you had I would have laughed my ass off. But I know that you need help. I heard you needed money, and I heard that for once in your sorry life you were trying to do something decent for a change, and I thought...maybe...I could help." Bosco turned to go again.

"What's the catch?"

"What catch?"

"The catch, the string."

"No strings."

"You're just giving me money."

"You didn't look, it could be a pile of ones, it could be worthless. Don't go expecting me to have solved your every last problem."

"What's the catch, Bosco?"

"You fuck up again I won't bail you out."

"I won't fuck up again, and I never asked you to bail me out."

"Good."

"You don't want something? Favors?"

"I don't want anything from you, Doherty."

"Good. You're not getting anything."

"That's what I got last time, too." Bosco left.

Jimmy went home. It was a long, long walk. His fingers cramped around the envelope. He got into his apartment, locked it up, sat down at his kitchen table, and opened the envelope. Counted. Counted again. Counted again.

Shit.

The next evening, he found Faith outside waiting for Bosco. He thrust the envelope at her. "Take this."

"What is it?"

"I don't want it. Tell him I don't want it."

"Who? Bosco?" Faith wasn't accepting the envelope.

"Take it!"

"Whoa, Doherty, you're causing a scene," Bosco said, joining them. "You wanna back up so we can get in the car and go to work?"

"I don't want this."

"I don't want it, either."

"You want to tell me what's going on?" Faith asked.

"Nothing's going on here," Bosco said. "Let's go."

"Take this!"

"You trying to bribe an officer of the law?" Bosco asked. "Have some respect, Doherty. Move your steroid-enhanced ass out of the way and let me get in my car."

"He does steroids?" Faith asked.

"No, I do not do steroids," Jimmy said. "Bosco-"

"That's my name, sweetheart, don't wear it out." Bosco got in the car and closed the door.

"I hate you!" Jimmy shouted.

"Fuck off," Bosco said, starting the engine.

"That was money."

"Faith."

"That was money. How much did you give him?"

"Faith."

"Two thousand? Five? Thirty?"

"Faith."

"That was a lot of money, Bos. A lot of money."

"Don't start with me."

"What are you doing?"

"Did I say don't start?"

"You give him money, now what? He's in your debt, he comes crawling back to you? I'd like to see that, but not like this."

"Faith!'

"You except something in return? What, sex?"

"I don't expect anything. I don't want anything."

"That's why you gave him money."

"Can we leave it alone, please?"

"I have to tell you, when they first partnered us, I had no idea your life would be such a soap opera."

"Neither did I."

"Hey."

Jimmy glanced over at Bobby across the table. "What's up?"

"Something going on with you and Bosco?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Clandestine meetings over money..."

"Damn it. Does she tell you everything?"

"Pretty much, yeah. You okay?"

"There's nothing going on. He's being an asshole, what's new." He knew that Bobby knew about...before...because Kim had known, and Kim, as noted, told Bobby everything, eventually. So Kim and Bobby knew, and Faith knew, and Faith's husband probably knew.

But nothing was going on, nothing was happening. Bosco had given him money. He wasn't stupid; he was keeping the money, paying off his debts. And if Bosco wanted something in return, Bosco could just forget it. Any of it. All of it.

Forget it. Like he'd told Faith that he couldn't remember whether Bosco were circumcised. As though he could forget something like that, as though the shape and size and feel of it, its heat and hardness and throbbing pulse, weren't imprinted in his palm. His fingers could curve around it even now, could recall the-

Shit.

He paid off his debts. He paid Kim every last cent that he owed, and then next months' child support, just to be safe, just so she wouldn't have to scrape and worry as much. Then he took what was left and found Bosco heading toward the car for home with Faith.

"Bosco," he said, jogging over to them.

"What's up?" Faith asked.

"Here." He pulled up Bosco's shirt and tucked the bills in Bosco's denim waistband. Then he patted Bosco's cheek and turned to go.

"Motherfucker!" Bosco shouted. "Doherty!"

"Yes?" he asked mildly, turning back to them.

"You took care of everything? Because I don't want to hear that some bookie tossed you in the Hudson, or that Kim's coming after you with an axe."

"I took care of everything," Jimmy said.

"Doherty."

"What?!"

"Say thank you."

Oh god. His mind swam...

"Jimmy."

"Oh...god...yes..."

"Jimmy."

That tongue, that agile quick tongue, licking all over, licking in just the right places, tasting him and loving him and making him so fucking hard... His hands gripped the railings of the headboard for support as he arched off of the mattress toward that mouth.

"Jimmy."

"What?...god...please...please...please..." Oh god yes, hot wet suction right there, so perfect he had to work hard not to come in that beautiful mouth.

"Say thank you."

"For what?" crossed what was left of his mind but didn't manage to reach his lips. And then he came, screaming.

"Thank you," he said to Bosco. Bosco's lips turned up in an arrogant smirk, and then Bosco left.

"You need a ride?" Faith asked.

"Actually, yeah," he confessed with a self-deprecating smile.

"Come on. Should have kept some of that money, saved up for a new car."

"Do you know how expensive it is to own a car in this city - - never mind, stupid question. I can afford the subway now. But I wouldn't mind a ride anyway."

"I understand." They got in her car. "So what was that?"

"What was what?"

"When all of a sudden the heat between the two of you went up eighty degrees."

"Maybe I will take the subway."

"Jimmy, let me get this straight. So to speak. You care so much about Bosco that you're risking your life to save his, and you flip out more than I do when he does something stupid. He's giving you I don't know how much money to pay your bills - - and we both know how Bosco is about spending money. And I don't know many people who are this agitated over each other eight months later."

"He's agitated?"

"Well, with Bosco, it's hard to tell, since every little thing pisses him off. You know, he was a lot more mellow when he was with you."

"Is that why you're trying to get us back together? So he'll chill out some?"

"Who said I wanted you back together?"

"Come on, Faith."

"Maybe. If you're not going to be such an asshole this time."

"I'm the asshole? What about Bosco?"

"You dumped him."

"Is that all you get out of it?"

"Forgive me if my sympathies are with the person I've watched try to recover from it for the past eight months."

"He took it hard?"

"Forget it. You want to gloat over your conquest, do it somewhere else."

"I'm not gloating."

"It doesn't stroke your...ego to hear you hurt him when you dropped him?"

"I didn't... It's not about that. I had reasons. I wasn't out to hurt anybody."

"You had reasons. Might have been nice to let him know what those reasons were."

"I told him."

"Sometimes Bosco doesn't hear too well."

Jimmy thought about it. Wondered how hard Bosco had taken it. Wondered what Bosco had told Faith had happened. Wondered what Bosco thought had happened. He knew that Bosco hated him, but Bosco acted like a bastard with everybody, so it wasn't anything new. Besides, he handed back the antagonism himself. They hadn't had one exchange without some glaring and threatening and animosity in eight months. Which, even if they hadn't had a bad break-up, would make sense. Their personalities clashed naturally, it seemed.

Except that they didn't. Sure, to everybody else they did; that was why no one questioned their ongoing feud. Bosco was a jerk, and Jimmy was a macho arrogant self-absorbed - - well, enough said. So, it only made sense that they would clash, and that other people would see them in that light.

But it wasn't natural. They could easily, very easily, be together. Smile and laugh and joke together. Talk to each other. They had talked; it wasn't all about sex with them. Okay, the sex was...well...better than any other sexual experience of his entire life. But there was, incredibly, more than sex. They could talk to each other. They had talked. About their jobs. About Joey. About Kim and Faith. About whether they wanted to screw Bobby. About sports and politics and anything else.

It was easy to talk to Bosco. Maybe because they were both arrogant jerks. Maybe because they had a lot in common.

They did have a lot in common, besides being arrogant jerks. They had similar jobs, similar ideals, similar attitudes. They were hot-headed and stubborn and thoughtless. He didn't know why he found that sexy in Bosco.

God he needed to get laid.

He'd gotten steady sex for seven months. Then he'd stopped. Then he'd started to do something he hadn't needed to resort to for many years. Every man's coping mechanism. It wasn't that he couldn't get sex; it was out there and easy to get, whenever he wanted it. But he didn't go get it. He went out, met women, and went home alone. He couldn't bring himself to try with them. He didn't know why. He was horny, they were pretty and available, why not? But he knew that his cock wouldn't be satisfied. Because nothing, he'd learned, was as tight or as hot as Bosco. And nobody, nobody, sucked cock like Bosco. He didn't know why that was, or why it mattered. After all, pussy was pussy, and as long as he got off why did he care where it was?

But he cared. And he was masturbating twice a day. And he wanted Bosco.

The next day they got to a fire, and as he jumped off the truck to grab a hose, he saw Faith talking to people on the sidewalk, keeping them back from the blaze. Which meant...he looked around, one quick glance, and saw Bosco directing traffic. Thank god. He glared at Bosco's back and got to work.

When he ran across Bosco later that evening at King and Arthur, he said, "Hey, Bosco. Nice of you to stay out of the burning building for once."

"All of the people were out," Bosco said.

"Never learn, do you?"

"Nope." Bosco smirked.

He glanced around, rubbed the back of his neck, hoped that his dimples were showing. "I don't suppose you could give me a ride home?"

"Don't suppose I could."

"Come on, Bosco, just once."

"No."

"Come on, I hate the subway."

"Ask one of them," Bosco said, gesturing toward the firehouse. "Or call up one of your last thousand girlfriends."

"Yeah, if I remembered their phone numbers. Or their names."

"Your memory sucks, doesn't it," Bosco said.

Oh, right. The whole thing about not remembering whether Bosco was circumcised.

"Hope the subway doesn't smell too much tonight," Bosco said. "Hope nobody mugs you or throws up on you." Bosco strolled off into the precinct. Jimmy cursed at himself.

But not much later, when Bosco and Faith were heading to their cars, Jimmy was waiting for them, leaning against Bosco's car, arms crossed. The effect wasn't as good with long sleeves, but it worked anyway, he hoped.

"You need a ride?" Faith asked.

"I could use one," he said.

"Give him a ride," Faith told Bosco.

"No!" Bosco said.

"Come on, you drive me home all of the time."

"I don't hate you," Bosco told her. "You take him home."

"Bos, I can't. It's late."

"No," Bosco said. "He can take the subway like anybody else."

"Get in," Faith told Jimmy, stealing Bosco's keys and unlocking the car. Bosco swore and grabbed the keys, but Jimmy was already getting into the car.

"I am not driving him home," Bosco said.

"So just pretend he's not there and drive yourself home," Faith said.

"Oh, you-"

"See you boys later." Faith left.

Bosco turned in a circle, and Jimmy could just imagine the expression on his face. "Get out of the car."

Jimmy didn't move.

"Get out of the car!"

He put on his seatbelt.

"Get out of the fucking car you motherfucking son-of-a-bitch!"

He didn't move.

Bosco got in the car, slammed the door. "This is not happening," Bosco said, apparently to himself. "It's a nightmare. I'll wake up, it'll be roll-call, and this whole thing is one ugly nightmare." Bosco started the car, turned on the radio, and drove. Drove to his building. Parked. Got out.

Jimmy got out, too. He hadn't been here in eight months, but he remembered the routine, the elevators and hallways. He followed Bosco, who ignored him entirely, right into Bosco's apartment.

Bosco locked the door, went to the bedroom and tossed his gear on the dresser, came back out to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, got out a beer, tossed a one-second glance in Jimmy's general direction, and put back the beer. Walked back to the bedroom, kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, and dropped to his back on the bed, hands over his eyes. "Not happening. This is not happening. Where the fuck is my gun?"

Jimmy took the opportunity presented. He was no fool. He got onto the bed, on his hands and knees astride Bosco's body.

"Don't even try it," Bosco said.

"Don't try what?"

"Anything."

"Don't try this?" Jimmy asked, and ran his hand up under Bosco's shirt, heading straight for a nipple. "You don't like this? You want me to stop this?"

"I'm going to kill you."

He sat back on his heels and peeled off his own shirts, opened his own jeans, then unbuttoned Bosco's shirt and pushed it back to reveal the tight white tank-style undershirt. He put his mouth to a nipple through the cotton, knowing that Bosco would feel the exquisite wet heat. He knew Bosco, knew this body, knew which reactions would come when. Just like Bosco knew him, knew he liked teeth, had never hesitated to use them. Maybe it was being with a guy, but he liked knowing that Bosco wasn't fragile, that Bosco was strong and wouldn't break under his hands. And maybe it was being with a guy, but he'd never had anyone who used teeth before. He hadn't known how much he'd like it, how much he wanted it.

He got Bosco naked, slender and tight and pale and silky and naked under his hands, all of that warm satin and hard muscle, no soft cushion of breasts, no long fancy hair getting tangled in his fingers, just bone and muscle and hair and skin and cock and Bosco, and he didn't dare kiss Bosco because he knew that he'd get his tongue bitten off, so he forfeited the slow burn of stubble against his skin and went to another fun place, down farther, and licked Bosco's navel, and spread Bosco's thighs, and licked down in there. It was like coming home.

Bosco came in his mouth.

He had to let go, knew how sensitive Bosco would be. He looked up, saw Bosco just lying there panting and staring at the ceiling. Bosco's fingers relaxed from the death grip on the bedclothes.

"I hate you," Bosco said.

"I hate you." Which was the truth. He slid his hands up Bosco's ribcage, relishing the feel of this once more after all of those months away from it. How had he ever gone a day without it?

"You want me to get you off?"

"Yes." He did, why lie? Bosco reached out, tugged down his jeans and underwear, wrapped a hand around his cock. Bosco didn't have a gentle woman's touch. Oh, Bosco could be gentle, was capable of it. But Bosco wasn't afraid to hold him hard, to make him feel it. Oh god that felt good. He shuddered, and came.

"Should have used a condom," Bosco said. "You don't know where I've been. I don't know where you've been. Hell, I know where you've been. In the bed of every woman in the city." Bosco shoved him aside, went to the bathroom, locked the door. He heard the shower running.

Jimmy waited, wiping up his mess with Kleenex, pulling on his clothes. Soon the shower ended and Bosco came out, fresh and clean, flushed and damp, towel tight around hips. Jimmy watched Bosco change the sheets, lose the towel, pull on boxers, turn off the lights, and get in bed.

He peed, brushed his teeth with his finger, and slept on the couch.

Jimmy woke with a cat on his chest. He stared at it and it tried to bite his chin. It was a tiny orange thing, palm-sized and fluffy. "Who the hell are you?"

"Thor."

He looked up to see Bosco reach over the sofa back and lift the kitten. Bosco set the kitten on the floor and went to the fridge. Jeans, black T-shirt, bare feet. He remembered that shirt. How sad was it that he remembered a single plain black T-shirt?

"Thor?" he asked, sitting up on the sofa.

"Faith's kids dragged it home, she wouldn't let them keep it, so they suckered Uncle Bosco into keeping it for them. They named it." Bosco didn't seem thrilled.

"Make me breakfast?"

"Bite me."

"You should be so lucky."

Bosco drank some milk straight from the carton and tossed a silver pouch of Pop-Tarts to Jimmy. He peeled an orange with deft fingers and said, "Hey, cat, food's this way. Get outta my stuff. Damn it, you scratch my jewel cases you're buying me some new ones."

Jimmy had never felt like this in his life. Happy and scared and horny and dizzy and panicked and thrilled and sick to his stomach with anticipation and suspense. Plus, he had to pee. So he peed and ate, and then the phone rang.

"Bosco." Bosco closed his eyes and tilted back his head. "Damn it, Faith, can you give me a break for once? I arrested him and he spent the night rotting in jail. Oh, you don't believe me? Ask him yourself." Bosco tossed the phone to Jimmy, sat on the couch, and turned on the TV.

Jimmy held the phone. "Faith?"

"You spent the night?" Faith's voice asked him.

"Yes, I spent the night."

"You hurt him I swear I'll kill you."

"I'm not making any promises."

"If you kept them, I'd look for the Pod People."

"This your cat?"

"God, Thor? Bosco's been giving me crap for a week now. You want it?"

"They make a cute couple."

"He looks better with you."

"Anybody looks better with me."

She hung up on him.

Jimmy set down the phone and sat on the sofa. "Your new favorite show?"

Bosco changed the channel.

Actually, Daffy Duck reminded him of Bosco. Maybe he shouldn't mention that tidbit right now. "Faith wants us to get back together."

Bosco viciously turned up the volume. Jimmy grabbed the remote control and turned off the TV, tossing the control under the sofa. "Look at me, damn it."

Bosco rounded on him. "Why don't you just get the fuck out!"

"No!"

"Do you know the stupidest thing you've ever said to me?"

"Yes." He remembered that horrible moment all too well.

Bosco's knuckle passed along the curve of Jimmy's jaw too fast, too light, shocking in its intimacy. "You asked me if your stubble hides your dimples."

"What?" Not what he'd expected to hear.

"When are you going to realize that you're worth more than that? When are you going to see that the people who matter don't care about you because of your dimples or your pecs or your biceps?" Bosco sounded angry. Looked angry.

Jimmy flushed, pulled back, stood, walked to the kitchen area. "What are you talking about?"

"Get out." Bosco sat back against the sofa again, his back to Jimmy.

"What about my blowjob?" Jimmy asked Bosco's back across the apartment.

"Try Brenda two doors down."

"She any good?"

Bosco shrugged. "I don't know."

"She turned you down?"

"You think maybe I turned her down?" Bosco snapped.

Jimmy laughed. "No."

"Bastard."

"What, you turned down sex? Can you afford to do that?"

"I can get sex whenever I want it," Bosco said. "I just choose not to sometimes. Not that you'd know anything about that. Although I don't know what you've been doing lately; your technique's shit. Last night you came in .05 seconds."

He had come fast, too fast, as soon as his cock had registered Bosco's palm. His cock, once upon a time, had been in love with Bosco, had thought that the sun rose and set in Bosco, thought that nothing was more pure perfection that Bosco. Hand, mouth, ass, Jimmy's cock didn't care. It'd be in nirvana just humping Bosco's leg, getting a better ride out of that than any of the last twenty pussies it had visited. And now, now his cock was shuddering in disbelief that it had gotten to visit Bosco again. It wanted to go back, to relive the full experience of Bosco, to return to hand, then mouth, then ass. It wanted to feel that agile tongue, those dexterous fingers, that sweet wet suction, that hot tight hole, that silken skin, that crush of dark crisp curls. So masculine, so Bosco.

He'd been hard just being near Bosco again, in Bosco's apartment, in Bosco's bedroom. Then he'd gotten Bosco naked, and he'd sucked Bosco's cock, and he'd been hard, really hard, incredibly horny. He'd almost come just sucking off Bosco. Hell, another second and he would've come just from touching Bosco. But then Bosco had touched him, and his entire body had been slammed through with, "Bosco's touching," and then he'd come, just like that.

Bosco was the same. Looked the same. Felt the same against his fingertips, felt the same against his lips, felt the same in his mouth. Tasted the same on his tongue. Smelled the same.

Didn't sound the same. Bosco used to be much more vocal. Last night: silence. Panting, but controlled panting.

"You leaving?" Bosco asked.

Jimmy walked over, in front of the sofa, in front of Bosco. "You don't suck dick anymore?"

"No," Bosco said. "I don't."

"Since when?"

"Since I don't like it."

"You don't like it?"

"I don't like it."

"God, Bosco, you're..." He stopped himself.

"I'm what?" Bosco asked, not looking up at him.

"The best cocksucker I ever met."

Silence. "I have a gun, Doherty."

Jimmy left.

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Maurice" Part Two: Jimmy's Days Get Much Brighter, Eventually
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