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Originally posted for the 2005 Oz Magi challenge on LiveJournal.
Written for Noblerot with the prompt:
Pairing/Character(s): Chris Keller/Eddie Drake
Keyword/Phrase: "Switch hitters do double their chances of getting laid on any given night."
Canon/AU/Either: So AU it's in orbit.
Special Requests: Smut! Eddie goes undercover. Or under covers. with Keller, of course.


Bad Boys

by Erin


Eddie Drake leaned back and took another swig of beer. "So how long you been working for Lewis?"

On the other side of the booth, Chris Keller sprawled halfway across the table, leaning on his elbow, chin resting in his hand. "Ummm..." he thought for moment, tapping his beer bottle with his free hand.

"Not tha' long," he slurred, "'bout siss - six - weeks."

"Fuck," said Eddie, "I don't know how you lasted that long, the guy's an ass."

"Yeah, I know. Why - you gonna leave?"

"Thinking about it. Let's just say I'm not getting the level of job satisfaction I insist upon."

Keller grinned, a million dollar smile that lit up his alcohol-flushed face. "You're a very funny guy, Dave."

Eddie blinked at the sound of his fake name. No matter how many times he worked undercover, he never got used to how weird it felt being called by a different name.

"So, back to my question - why you been working for that ass for so long?"

"I dunno. Good money, I guessh," he slurred.

"Yeah, but you gotta ask yourself if the good money's worth it - he gets busted by the cops, you go down with him."

"So do you, smart guy. Oh, but thass right - you're leavin'." Keller saluted him with his beer bottle, and took another long drink. Eddie studiously ignored the long, muscles in his throat working as he swallowed, and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin. Neck-licking was not on the cards here.

"Maybe - "

"Why, what kindsa shit's he make you do?" Keller cut him off.

"Hey you know the rules - everybody does their job and nobody - "

"Talks about it," Keller finished off the oft-repeated mantra for him.

Eddie sighed and downed the rest of his bottle in four long swallows. He was drunk, but nowhere near as drunk as Keller and he was starting to wish he was. Not only was the dank, smokey atmosphere of the bar starting to get him down, but his attempts at subtly getting information out of Keller about his boss were going nowhere. Every time he tried, Keller neatly cut him off or smoothly changed the subject. If he didn't know better, he'd think Keller was on to him. Fuck, maybe it was time to pull the plug on the whole operation.

"Why all the queshtions anyways, Dave?" There was glint of... something in Keller's dark blue eyes that made Eddie uncomfortable. It hinted at something hidden and dangerous beneath Keller's drunken exterior. Had he seen it in anyone else, Eddie would've been out of there like a shot and reporting back to headquarters that he'd been found out. But there was always that sense of danger around Keller - from the moment they'd met Eddie had known he'd have to be careful around this one.

"Nothin', man, I'm just making polite conversation."

"Oh yeah? Well, lemme ask you somethin'. Why you really wanna leave? Can't hack the job no more? You're morals catchin' up with you?"

"You're asking me about morals?" Eddie chuckled, and started peeling the label off his beer bottle, avoiding Keller's eyes.

"Yeah," Keller said softly, "you seem like the type thass got'em."

Eddie looked up at him. Keller's face had softened somewhat, and his eyes were almost kind. Eddie cleared his throat. "What I am is the type who's gotta pee - be right back."

"Have fun," drawled Keller, as Eddie slid out of the booth, giving him a leery grin.

"I'm not planning on utilizing the glory holes, so don't get your hopes up, Spanky."

Keller cracked up laughing. "Damn, there goes my Friday night."

"Why Mr. Keller, I'm just not that kind of girl!" he cried in an affronted falsetto as he stumbled toward the bathrooms. Keller's guffaws followed him all the way there.

As soon as Eddie locked himself in a stall, he dug his cell phone out of his pocket and made a call.

"What've you got for me, Drake?" Conrad Rose's voice came over the phone.

"Well, as of this moment, preciselyyyyyy.... nothing."

"That wasn't what I wanted to hear, Eddie."

"Yeah, I know, that's why I dragged it out," he smiled.

"This isn't funny. You've been involved with their operation for a week and haven't found enough to make our case. Getting more information out of Keller is our last hope."

"I am aware of that, sir, but unfortunately he isn't very forthcoming."

"Make him forthcoming!" Rose snapped angrily.

"Connie, three words. Anger. Manage. Ment."

"What - "

"Look, I'm just telling you that I don't think he's gonna give up anything I don't already know - he's too smart, too wary, and too careful about getting caught."

Connie sighed. "Keep trying. If you don't get anything tonight, we'll pull you out of the operation tomorrow. We'll find another way."

"Your call. I wanted more beer anyway."

"Eddie, you said this guy's smart - I really think I'd feel more comfortable about you being there if you were wearing a wire."

"And for the fifth time, I really think I'd feel more comfortable if I wasn't. Don't worry, the guy's drunk out of his mind, it's just a pity it doesn't loosen his tongue."

"All right. Keep me posted."

"Will do."

Eddie quickly peed since he really had had to go, then wandered out to the sink to splash his face with water. The alcohol was starting to go to his head, and his face felt warm and sweaty. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, dark blonde hair curling from the humidity, blue eyes bright with drink, water drops running down rosy cheeks and clinging to his moustache or dripping off his chin. He sighed. "What are you doing, man?"

"Hey, Dave."

Eddie spun around to find Keller leaning in the doorway, that dangerous glint back in his eye.

"Oh, hey."

"Took you a while, thought you might've fallen in," he grinned.

Eddie chuckled, "Nah, I'm good."

Keller nodded and swaggered over towards the stalls. Eddie found himself trying not to stare at the shapely ass encased in tight jeans that was reflected in the mirror. This of course, was the other thing making him uneasy with this case. This weird attraction he'd formed to Keller. Eddie wasn't gay, not really. He'd always thought he was a pretty open-minded kind of guy, and really, he'd never say never, but for the most part he was straight. He loved women. As he said so often himself, he had a raging libido and anything in a short skirt was fair game. Although, apparently so was anything in tight jeans and a white wifebeater.

"You fuckin' liar!"

Eddie spun around, heart thudding. "What?"

Keller came out of the stall with a smirk on his face. "There aren't any glory holes back here. You got me all hot and bothered for nothing, you little cocktease."

"Sorry, sweetheart, guess you'll have to go home unsatisfied," Eddie laughed and relaxed slightly.

But he quickly grew tense again as Keller's dark, imposing form moved up behind him and rested his chin on Eddie's shoulder. For a long second, they just stared at each other in the mirror. Eddie couldn't even breathe.

"You sure about that?" Keller whispered in his ear.

Eddie licked his lips nervously. "Uh..."

He stared at their reflection as Keller's arms came around him. It looked wrong and yet right at the same time. Keller was a well-built guy, with biceps almost as well defined as his own, one adorned with a beautiful tattoo of Christ crucified. He'd asked about it almost the moment they'd met ("What's with the naked Saviour?"), but Keller had never told him what it meant.

Keller's hands started to move across his chest, not even sexual, just stroking him gently. It was an incongruous sight - one muscular tough guy in a black wifebeater being softly petted by another muscular tough guy in a white wifebeater. Eddie would've laughed if he could breathe.

Keller's hands stopped stroking, and the big arms wrapped tightly around him. "This okay?" he breathed into Eddie's ear, eyes staring straight at his in the mirror.

Eddie looked away from that intense gaze and found his voice. "So, it's true. You do swing both ways."

"That a problem, Dave?"

Eddie bit his lip. Shit, this guy didn't even know his real name. He was undercover for Christ's sake. He shouldn't be doing this.

"No, not a problem," he said, pulling out of Keller's grasp. "After all, switch hitters do double their chances of getting laid on given night. You gotta respect that, right?" He gave small laugh, going for levity and failing miserably.

Keller moved in close again, pressing his forehead against Eddie's, surprising him with the intimacy of the gesture. His eyes glanced to the left, surprised at how right their reflection looked. They were of a similar height and similar build, but opposites. Black shirt, white shirt. Blonde, brunette. Yin, yang. The image appealed to the philosopher in Eddie.

"Hey," Keller murmured softly. "You wanna come home with me?"

"I'm not gay," he mumbled.

"Didn't you once say 'lips are lips'?"

"Yeah. I'm full of shit. You should know that."

"No, you're not. You just think you are."

Eddie felt the warm breath on his face, and wrinkled his brow, trying to figure out what that loaded statement meant.

"Kiss me." It was a quiet plea, and it shook Eddie to his core. There were a thousand reasons not to. He was undercover, Keller didn't really know him, he wasn't even gay, he did have some morals, even if they were few and far between...

Keller's head moved down to press a gentle kiss against his neck and he let out a surprised gasp. Eddie didn't understand this attraction, but it had been there from the moment they'd met - that glint in Keller's eyes, the handshake that had lasted too long. Keller blatantly flirted, swaggered everywhere like he was cock of the walk, but it wasn't bullshit. He really did have an aura of animal-like sexuality surrounding him, and women (and men apparently) were attracted like bees to honey. Eddie had briefly wondered if he had it too, but had dismissed the thought quickly. He knew that his own act was definitely all bullshit.

"Kiss me," Keller whispered again, lips hot against Eddie's ear, making him shudder. Jesus fucking Christ. He was leaving tomorrow anyway, right?

"What the fuck, huh?" he grinned at Keller and closed his mouth over his.

It was weird. There were no soft lips and small hands and sweet smell. He couldn't have pretended this was a woman if he'd tried. Keller's lips were firm and demanding, his tongue even more so, hungrily licking its way inside Eddie's mouth. Large hands and strong fingers grasped possessively at his hip and the back of his neck. He smelt like sweat and smoke, and tasted like beer and pretzels. It shouldn't have been sexy, but it was. Eddie was fucking hooked.

He gave as good he got, plunging his tongue deep into Keller's mouth, and grinning when he heard Keller's gasp. Eddie knew damn well what he could do with that long tongue, and wasn't afraid to use it. He wondered what Keller thought of his moustache, but it didn't seem to be putting him off at all. He gripped Keller's shoulders tightly, pushing against him, giving a surprised grunt at the feel of a large, hard body against his own. Keller growled in the back of his throat, pushing Eddie back against the sink, a hard thigh slipping between his legs, and hands absolutely everywhere they could reach.

"Jesus Christ!"

They sprang apart, breathing heavily, and looked at the man who had just entered the bathroom. "You wanna find somewhere else to do that fucking shit? This isn't a goddam gay bar."

Keller just smirked at him, grabbed the front of Eddie's wifebeater and pulled him out the door. Eddie grinned at the guy's disgusted face as they went past. "Jealousy's a curse, honey!" he called behind them, making Keller laugh.

They managed to make it all the way to the parking lot, before Keller shoved him against the side of his black pick-up and resumed kissing him senseless.

Eddie pulled away with a gasp as Keller bit down the side of his neck, "Shouldn't we go to your place?"

"Can't wait," Keller panted heavily, "Want you. Been waiting too long."

He shoved his mouth against Eddie's again, kissing roughly. Eddie groaned at the hard, lustful kneading his ass was being treated to and hung on for the ride.

Keller kept shoving hard against him, as though he wanted to push his whole body inside Eddie's. His thigh ended up between Eddie's legs again, rubbing against the bulge in his jeans, while his own hard-on dug into Eddie's hip. Eddie groaned into the wet, messy kisses, pulling at Keller's wifebeater and grasping at hot skin.

What the fuck are you doing, Drake?! He couldn't stop thinking. You're a cop, this guy's a criminal. He works for a drug smuggler. You put guys like this in prison, you don't hump their fucking leg in a parking lot! It was at that point that one of Keller's talented hands found their way to Eddie's crotch.

"Oh, God!" he cried out. "Okay, you gotta stop that," he panted, "Stop! Fuck Keller stop, I'm gonna come in my fucking pants."

"Call me Chris."

"Wha'?" he gasped breathlessly.

"Call me Chris."

"Chris, stop!"

Chris's hand pulled away but he kept his body pressed against Eddie. Eddie tried to get his breathing and his boner under control. "Um, look. Maybe we shouldn't - "

"Fuck me."

"Huh?"

"I want you to fuck me."

Eddie gaped. First off, he hadn't realized fucking, fucking like actual penetration was on the agenda, secondly, if he'd thought about it, he would have assumed Keller would be doing the fucking. Why he thought that, he didn't know, because he definitely wasn't the bottoming type, but... Chris was such an imposing presence, maybe he just assumed he'd run the show. Plus he was the experienced one in this situation, not Eddie.

"Um..." It wasn't often that Eddie Drake was rendered speechless, but Chris had managed it several times in one night.

"Please," Chris breathed, "I want you. I've wanted you since we met. I shouldn't want you, but I do." Eddie belatedly noticed that Chris was sounding more sober than before and wondered if lust was overpowering the alcohol. "When I shook your hand that day," Chris continued, "I didn't wanna let go. I wanted to pull you to the ground and kiss you and suck you and fuck you," he rumbled, planting kisses all over Eddie's face.

"Thought you wanted me to fuck you," Eddie panted.

"That too," Chris said, breaking away. He shifted to the left, leaning over the side of the pick-up's hood, next to Eddie. He unbuckled his belt, pulled at his fly and shoved his jeans down, presenting an incredibly nice ass to Eddie's shocked gaze.

"Here?" Eddie asked, trying not to look at that ass, pale in the dim light; trying not to think of his cock sinking in between those perfect, rounded cheeks and being swallowed by tight, hot, tight muscles.

"Yeah, here," Chris said breathlessly. "And here." He reached down to the pocket of his jeans, giving Eddie an even better view of his ass. A view that made Eddie's cock jump and strain against his own jeans. Chris pulled out a condom and a small foil package of lube, and passed them to Eddie.

"Jesus Christ, did you plan this?" Eddie asked incredulously.

"Not really," Chris mumbled into his arms where he had rested head, "More like wishful thinking. Come on." He wiggled his ass pleadingly and Eddie gulped, looking around. It was late. The parking lot was pretty much empty, plus it was badly lit, and they'd parked in one of the more shadowy areas. He could do this. He looked back at that naked ass, and Chris rubbing his dick against the side of the pick-up. Wait, no he couldn't.

"I don't know what to do," he murmured, feeling embarrassed.

Chris peeked over his shoulder at him. "Just loosen me up with your fingers, then plow straight in."

"Jeez, you're such a romantic."

"Come on!" he cried needfully, reaching back to rub Eddie's crotch, and reminding him just how fucking hard he was.

"Oh, shit," Eddie gasped, "Oh, Jesus, okay."

He quickly yanked his pants down and rolled on the condom. Then he opened the lube, coated his finger with some, and quickly shoved it in a place where it had never been before, not giving himself the chance to think about that too much. When Chris cried out, he realized that might not have been smart. "Oh, fuck - you okay?"

"Yeah," Chris panted, "More."

He was more careful about adding a second finger, but Chris seemed to be taking him so easily, he started moving his hand more roughly, scissoring his fingers and panting with excitement at the thought of that tight heat around his cock.

"Oh, fuck." Chris moved with the thrusts of his fingers, panting heavily, "Shit, that's the spot right there. Fuck - fucking fuck me already, will ya?"

Eddie didn't need to be told twice. He did precisely what Chris told him - yanked his fingers out and plowed straight in. Chris cried out loudly, and even though Eddie's brain was exploding at just how fucking good it felt to have his cock in something this tight, the sound of Chris's cry echoing around the parking lot made him freeze.

"Shut up, someone'll hear you."

"Fuck me," was Chris's breathless response.

So he did. He fucked Chris as hard as he dared, loving every second, loving how Chris's ass clamped down on his cock like a vice, loving how Chris eagerly moved back into his thrusts, loving how Chris whimpered every time he hit the right spot. It was crazy and wild and lustful - ass-fucking a criminal in a dark parking lot on a hot night. Knowing he shouldn't, but that he couldn't say no.

Chris started to cry out again, and he put a hand over his mouth, letting out his own cry when Chris started to nip and lick at his fingers. He felt Chris jerking himself off, squirming, desperate, right on the brink of coming, and the idea that he was making another man this crazy was suddenly the sexiest thing ever. He gave one last, hard thrust and shuddered violently, coming inside Chris, who was only seconds behind.

He lay still for long moments, head resting on Chris's back, breathing deeply as his racing heartbeat slowed.

"You okay?" Chris asked, sounding tired and spent.

"Yeah," he mumbled, pulling away and getting rid of the condom.

"Fuck." Chris stayed where he was, half-lying on the hood of the truck. Eddie realized he was on the verge of passing out. Too much alcohol followed by sex would do that to a person. He noticed the mess of lube on Chris's still-naked ass and sighed. He did his pants back up and opened the door to the pick-up truck. He rooted around in the glove compartment, looking for a Kleenex or something for Chris to wipe his ass with, and came up with a balled up cloth.

"Here, wipe your butt," he said, passing it to Chris.

"Thanks," said Chris tiredly, unfurling it and setting to work. He didn't notice the sound of something dropping out of the cloth and falling on the asphalt. But Eddie did.

He bent down and picked up what looked like a wallet. When it fell open, Eddie was struck dumb.

He didn't understand what he was seeing. There was a large gold badge and a card with Chris's picture and lots of words, but the ones that leapt out were 'San Francisco Police Department'. The shock froze his brain for long stunned moments. Then suddenly it clicked and he leapt up to where Chris was re-buckling his pants.

"You're a cop?!"

Chris looked up at him in shock, then saw the badge in his hand. His face paled. "Oh, fuck," he whispered.

"You're a cop?" Eddie repeated, too stunned to believe what was happening.

Keller bit his lip, then straightened up, standing tall and hardening his features. "Well, you caught me. Congratulations. Whatcha gonna do, Dave? You gonna rat me out? You gonna kill me? Don't keep me waiting all night, I'm dying to find out."

"I... " Fuck, Eddie couldn't even get his brain to work properly. "I just fucked you," he said stupidly.

"Yeah, I remember. But I'm guessing that won't stop you from doing whatever you gotta do." Keller sounded sadly resigned, "Serves me right for falling for a fucking a criminal. God, I'm a fucking idiot. I just didn't think, I never think - not 'til it's too late."

"What?" Eddie almost shrieked, his brain finally catching up. "You idiot! I'm a cop too!"

"What?" Keller looked as stunned as Eddie felt, and his face paled again. "What?" he repeated.

"I am a U.S. Marshal," he said slowly. "I'm working undercover to expose the drug smuggling operation."

"You are fucking kidding me."

"No. But I left my badge at home."

"I usually do too. I forgot it was in here."

"Who are you?"

Chris sighed. "Detective Chris Keller, SFPD. I'm working undercover to nab Lewis for three murders he committed when was up in San Fran a few months ago."

Eddie blinked at him. "Nobody told me about you!"

"Well, nobody told me about you!"

They stared at each for a few moments, both realizing that there had been a monumental screw up somewhere along the way within the department bureaucracy.

"Oh, someone is gonna get his ass kicked," Eddie growled.

"Fuck, yes," snapped Chris, looking just as angry.

Eddie stalked over to the truck and climbed into the passenger's seat. Chris followed, settling into the driver's seat. After a minute's silence -

"Well, I feel fucking stupid."

"Me too," Eddie said.

"You were so secretive, I thought you knew something. I thought Lewis had let something slip to you, even though you were new. He's a fucking idiot."

"I thought you knew the insides of how the operation worked, Lewis seems to trust you a lot."

"He does and I do," Chris said, startling Eddie. He shrugged, "Like I said, he's a fucking idiot."

"Will you help us get him for the smuggling?"

"Sure, as soon as I get him for those murders."

They sat for a few more minutes in silent shock. Eddie couldn't fucking believe it - all this time and Keller had been a cop. He felt stupid and humiliated. On the plus side, Connie would be happy that they now had a rock-solid witness. And...

He looked over at Chris's boldly handsome profile, and remembered how fucking amazing he'd felt just a short while ago. Well, he supposed that having sex with a cop was better than having sex with a criminal.

"Did you really want me?"

Chris looked at him, surprised. "Of course I fucking did. I've spent this whole week beating myself up for getting so stuck on a fucking low-life and telling myself I couldn't do anything, and the whole time, you're a fucking U.S. Marshal."

"And you did do something anyway."

Chris looked away stiffly, staring out the windscreen. "Yeah, well. I was drunk. And you looked so hot. And I was desperate. And... and it felt like you wanted me too." He looked back at carefully. "Did you?"

Eddie looked into hopeful blue eyes and couldn't lie. "Yeah," he murmured softly, "I did. I don't know why, I've never been with a guy before. I've thought about it from time to time, but never..."

"It's more than sex for me," Chris swallowed and looked nervous. "Drunk as I was, uh am really, I wouldn't have taken the risk I thought I was taking just for sex. Like I said, I um... I fell for you. Pretty damn hard."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'," Chris replied. "So what the fuck do we do now?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm off this case, even if you're still on yours." Eddie suddenly thought of something. "You used your real name. You were undercover and you used your real name?"

Chris shrugged. "This is L.A., nobody knows me down here."

"They know me."

A look of understanding crossed Chris's face. "Of course, I should have thought. Your name's not really Dave Beecher."

Eddie shook his head. "Nope." Then he held out his hand. "Eddie Drake. It's nice to meet you."

Chris smiled and shook his hand. "Eddie," he said, rolling it on his tongue as though trying it out for size, "Very nice to meet you too."

Eddie looked down at their still joined hands, then back up to Chris's dark eyes. "I still don't wanna let go," Chris said softly.

"Me either," admitted Eddie. He sighed and then grinned, "So, I guess you'd better take me home with you."

Chris's million dollar smile lit up his face. "Thought you weren't that kind of girl," he teased.

"Now where'd you get that idea? I'm a bad, bad boy," he said, making Chris laugh.

THE END.

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