EMAIL: elfin@burble.com 

Characters beloved creations and copyright of Reginald Hill.
Story copyright MJHughes
Song words from Sonique's "Feels So Good"

So Much

by elfin

'(your love it feels so good) and that's what takes me high
(higher than I've been before) your love it keeps me alive
(thought I should let you know) that your touch it means so much
(when I'm alone at night) it's you I'm always thinking of'

Peter drove, the stereo belting out Sonique 'Feels So Good' at top
volume. He wondered what would happen if he got stopped by the police.
And the thought brought to mind another musing; Dalziel in uniform. He
must have worn one once, Peter reasoned, but the image was just too
bizarre. Not that the Fat Controller didn't always look smartly
dressed. Expensive suits that made him, Peter, feel like he'd been
shopping at C&A. Hair neatly combed, eyes shining be it with anger or
pleasure, he was always so passionate.

His boss' passion was one of the things that had kept Peter at Andy's
side for all these years. Whatever else he could say about working for
Dalziel, he'd never been bored. And when he thought back he knew he'd
been given time to sort out his various personal crises. Finding out
the true fate of his grandfather, discovering Ellie was falling for a
charming young miner who'd then tried to kill her husband, their
separation....

He wasn't going to think about that now. He'd had a bad day. There
hadn't been one single terrible occurrence that had set him off, just
lots of small things that had finally pushed him to breaking point.
He'd collected together his coat and car keys, ignored the telephone and
slammed his office door hard enough to cause the glass to tremble in the
frame. Hard enough to bring Wieldy out into the corridor. He hadn't
said a word, and when Peter had stated he was going home, the sergeant
just nodded.

Wieldy'd likely be off soon anyway, off back to Enscombe where he shared
the aptly named Corpse Cottage - apt because local rumour had it that a
coffin had once fallen through the wall - with his partner Edwin. When
he'd first found out about his colleague's sexual preferences he had to
admit he could have reacted better. He'd been surprised was all,
whereas Dalziel... how did the man always manage to know what was going
to happen before it happened? Or was Andy really more sensitive than
him to matters of the heart?

The thought of Dalziel led him full circle to his original musings of
what his boss would have looked like in uniform. And then he wondered
why the hell he'd gone back there again, twice in ten minutes.
Something had been said, a couple of nights ago at the Black Bull.
Novello, Wieldy, Dalziel and himself had gone there from the office
after closing a case to everyone's satisfaction. The three men had all
been driving and thus had stopped after two pints. But Ivor had decided
she was going to take a taxi home and after a couple of G and Ts she was
chatting away to them without her usual reserve.

At one point in the evening, Wieldy had gone to the bar and Andy to the
gents (it might have been the other way around but he doubted it).
Novello leaned into him and whispered to him, "They'd make a great
couple, don't you think?"
"Who?" he'd asked in all innocence.
"Wieldy and the boss," she'd replied.
What he'd expected to feel was amusement, hilarity even. But what he
actually felt was a sudden pang of something not alien to him. He was
momentarily jealous that someone else other than him should be linked
with Andy on such an intimate basis. That Wieldy wouldn't have shown
the slightest interest didn't seem to figure in his feelings. Then,
Wieldy had come back with the drinks and made some obscene crack about
the barman and Peter's initial reaction to Ivor's statement had been
lost.

Now though, as he drove through the evening traffic, he remembered how
hurt he'd been, just for a moment. He'd often heard Dalziel refer to
him as "my lad". He preferred "Sunbeam" because it made him feel
special. Recently Andy had been saving that particular familiarity for
him and he allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that it was
because he meant it, not because he'd just not caught Andy using it to
anyone else.

He pulled the car to a halt at the traffic lights and watched the
traffic cross in front of his car. He hadn't come very far out of town,
he realised. Andy's place was close by. His own body's reaction to the
thought took him by surprise. 'Can't blame it mind,' he thought to
himself. He hadn't exactly been getting much recently. For a long time
he and Ellie had shared the same bed but barely even touched. And for
the last three weeks he'd been sleeping in the spare room. Not
conducive to a healthy sex life.

He shook himself as the lights turned green and he signalled left before
turning. What the hell had brought that on? 'You know full well.'
There had appeared, it seemed, a little devil on his shoulder. 'Ever
since you started working with him you've thought about it, in your
darkest moments.' He wondered where the angel was that was supposed to
fight his side of the battle on these occasions. 'So many hints, so
many lines you've picked up on. 'You told my lovely sergeant here....',
'would you mind not talking to your dogsey when I'm staring at you....',
'a smooth-talking graduate copper....''

He pulled his car up outside Andy's house and killed the engine. The
drive here had been as effective on his body's state as a bumpy train
journey. The music he'd played in a loop had only upped his mood a
notch. Some abstract voice inside him was telling him that it was time
to see if Dalziel would make good on his innuendoes, or whether he
really was just all mouth and no trousers. The image wasn't a bad one
at all.


Andy dragged himself to his front door and unlocked it, leaning heavily
on the latch. He hadn't been expecting guests and was making friends
with his newly opened bottle of Highland Park when there had come an
insistent knocking on the door. Peering out of the curtains he'd seen
Peter's car there and sworn to himself. He didn't need another
pointless burglary, or a vicious death. Tonight he wanted to enjoy the
finer things in life. Whiskey, rugby and the pleasures he could find in
his own hand.

This afternoon Marj had finally given him the brush-off. They'd been
playing with one another for nigh on a month, but Andy'd long ago
suspected he was the more serious of the two of them. They'd had a
couple of memorable afternoons, one or two evenings. But he really
hadn't been the stable relationship she'd been looking for and when he'd
done his own soul-searching he'd been forced to admit to himself that
she wasn't what he really wanted either. He swung the door open and
looked moodily at his inspector. "What is it, Peter?"

Resolve flitted away like sand in the wind. He might as well have been
standing naked on his boss' doorstep for all the force he could muster.
He opened his mouth but the words - whatever words might once have been
waiting there - didn't come. "Sorry... I shouldn't...." He turned
away, determining that he would go back to his car and drive home to a
cold sandwich and the spare bed.

But Andy, who'd by now worked out that it wasn't business visit, was
more than happy to have company. "Don't be daft, come in." He let the
door fall open and wondered back through into the lounge, leaving his
inspector to close it behind him.

'All's as it should be,' a quiet voice within him soothed. The angel
putting in a late appearance, Peter thought to himself sarcastically.
'Just another visit to the house,' he retorted in a silent, nasty tone.

Andy had flopped back down onto the sofa, and Peter flopped next to him,
holding his hand out to accept the crystal tumbler that was offered.
Holding it steady while Andy filled it, he let his eyes be drawn to the
match playing out on the television. Dalziel refilled his own glass and
put the bottle down on to the table.
"Thought you'd come over to demand my presence at some unwelcoming crime
scene," Andy admitted after a few minutes.
"I don't know why I came over. I've had the worst day and the thought
of home...." He caught himself. But the news obviously wasn't
unexpected.
"Not going so well is it, Sunbeam?"
Something chalked a point up on an invisible board in his mind. "Not at
the moment. Just a temporary glitch I'm sure."
Andy sipped his whiskey. "Never really gotten over Farr has she?"
He should have been angry enough to strike. He would have been a year
back. But not any longer. He kept quiet for a while until he decided
he didn't have to answer the question but could ask one of his own.
"What happened with Marj this afternoon?"
"What I thought would happen. She gave me the elbow."
"Sorry."
"What on earth for? Not your fault. Besides, I weren't for her and she
weren't for me."

Peter tore his eyes from the televised game. Basking in being
un-politically correct for a moment, he imagined it would be something
Wieldy'd enjoy, watching all those men rolling around in the mud
together. Letting his head loll to one side he studied Andy's profile.
He wasn't good-looking, in anyone's books, but he had something. Or
maybe it was more that Peter knew he was cared for by this man, knew he
was - in a way - loved. A few seconds and Andy dropped his own head to
one side, gaze meeting Peter's.

'He's beautiful.' Andy allowed himself the luxury of admiring his
student. 'Always has been, though, hasn't he? Blue eyes, blond hair.
The laddish features that endeare him to women and men alike. Sensual
and loyal if he put his mind to it. Completely balmy at times, of
course, but then... aren't we all?'

Peter drank down the remainder of his whiskey and reached his hand
around Andy's neck. Leaning forward, coaxing his friend toward him, he
kissed the mouth as it opened to say something. In place of the
expected squawk of denial, Peter found himself swallowing a groan from
Andy's throat. Andy's tongue was grazing along the top of his own,
stroking in long, wet, lavish strokes. Peter concentrated on sensation,
taste, everything that was different and all that was familiar.

It was deep and long, yet when Andy pulled back Peter looked away. The
older man swallowed the alcohol left in his glass and dropped the
tumbler to the floor carefully. "Peter, don't go all shy on me now,
lad." The tone of his voice was what made Pascoe look up. And then the
careful hand on his arm. "Just tell me why."
"I have no idea."
Andy smiled. "Good enough for me."
He shifted slightly, leaning over Peter a little as he kissed his
inspector again. He let his hand slide down Peter's arm until it came
to his elbow. Then he dropped it to rest on the other man's hip.

Unexpected as it was, this was far from unwelcome. The love he felt for
Peter didn't stop at any level but had deepened until he was lost. He'd
had lived happily ever after with this man at his side as his protégé,
as a friend of the family. But now this was being offered to him he
wasn't going to turn it down. He moved his hand again, down over
Peter's stomach, down to his thigh. The thin suit trousers he wore hid
nothing; Dalziel felt the straining erection against his wrist as he
stroked over Peter's strong leg.

Acutely aware of Andy's exploring, Peter spread his legs a little. Tiny
inner voices called him names but he took no heed of them. After all,
this was what he'd come here for, wasn't it? Strong fingers were
squeezing his thighs, moving up to cup his clothed genitals. He moaned
into Andy's mouth, assuring himself that he wasn't begging for this,
just appreciating the skilled touch that was now stroking the length of
his restrained cock. Peter lifted his hips and Andy couldn't help the
chuckle into the other's mouth.

Peter pulled back, sinking his head into the cushions of the sofa.
"What?" he asked defensively.
Andy regarded him with nothing short of adoration. "Nothing, Petal.
Just wondering how come you're so desperate for me, and when I'll wake
up."
It was a romantic notion coming from someone like Dalziel. He started
to feel ashamed. "I'm not using you," he reassured Andy somewhat
belatedly. "I just...."
But Andy lifted his hand from Peter's crouch and touched two large
fingers to his friend's lips. "Don't. I don't care. I want ya."
Relief must have softened his expression because a moment later Peter's
mouth was taken again and that hand was back where he wanted it.

For someone who'd never done this to another before, Dalziel's touch was
deceptively certain. He took the zip between his fingertips and drew it
down over the pronounced bulge. With more courage than he felt he had
the right to possess, Andy pushed the button through its hole and opened
Peter's trousers. Peter let loose a low, resounding murmur,
unintelligible yet easily understood by his lover.

Finding the opening in the front of the other's boxers, Andy touched
hidden flesh for the first time this night, the silk of Peter's erection
brushing his fingers, creased skin where the base of his cock met his
testicles.

Peter's hand was doing its own exploring now, urged on by the exquisite
sensations of Andy's touch. A tight palm had encased his erection and
was stroking him in long, experimental waves. Between shocks of pleasure
he managed to get Andy's jeans open, thrusting his hand inside in an
almost desperate need to return the sensations.

When he got a hold of Andy's cock and squeezed it firmly, he was
rewarded by a groan, low and long. Dalziel broke the kiss, expression
heated now, one of distinct longing. He looked at Peter for a long
time, daring the other to break the visual hold. And then he did it
himself. Putting one hand to Peter's shoulder, he pushed him back into
the corner of the sofa, extracting that wondrous hand from his own
jeans, leaving his cock straining for the contact it had lost. But he
ignored his own body's yearning and leaned down, registering Pascoe's
wide-eyed look of surprise moments before he moaned with need and his
body sank into the deep cushions.

Andy took Peter's cock into his mouth, letting it go full length, its
tip pressing against the back of his throat. He'd had women do this to
him and it only took a little angling to make it comfortable. It was
worth it. Peter's fingers were tangling in his fine hair as much as
they could. He was trying not to push up into Andy's mouth, trying to
restrain his own natural reaction. So Andy closed his mouth and
sucked. Peter screamed, somewhere between 'fuck me' and 'ahhhhh'.
Pleased, Dalziel released the pressure for a moment, licking around the
base of his lover's cock before sinking down a second time and sucking
harder.

Peter tried to pull Andy's head from his groin, unable to form enough of
a coherent sentence to warn him of the impending explosion. But Andy
only repeated the sequence. Peter came hard. He bucked once into
Andy's mouth, his head falling back as pulled in his breath in gasps.
He flooded Andy's mouth, feeling through the haze of ecstasy the other
man swallowing on him, throat muscles contracting, milking him
deliciously. He cried out again, unable to do anything but ride out the
almost violent waves assaulting him. And at that precious moment his
imagination offered up a series of brief yet tantalising possibilities.

He cleared his mind with some effort and tried to sit up. But Andy's
hand was resting on his stomach, holding him gently but effectively in
place. "Don't tell me we shouldn't have."
Peter looked at his boss in amazement. "I was going to say no such
thing. I was actually about to return the favour."

*

During the night the real world seemed a million miles away. When the
sun came up, Peter got into his car and drove home to shower and
change. Ellie might ask where he'd been and he'd tell the truth. He'd
been at Dalziel's. They'd had a late night and he hadn't wanted to
disturb her or Rosie by coming in during the morning's wee hours.

The day was at least better than yesterday, at best an awakening to
himself and his own feelings. He sat behind his desk for most of the
morning, pretending to fill in paperwork and instead examining his
actions of the previous night in tiny detail with the heading 'Why?'

Around two pm, Dalziel put his head around Peter's door and said in his
usual tone, "Right, you, with me. Wetherton's finest are needed."
It wasn't until they reached Andy's house that Peter realised exactly
what Wetherton's finest were needed for.


fin
elfin
02/10/00

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