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.

The Truth, The Whole Truth

by Clare

"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

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

"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.

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.


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