Brett Seabrooke is a young officer of Scotland Yard, out for his rounds with his partner for the evening.
His partner, John Butcher, keeps in stride with him. "You promised to tell me the thought you'd had earlier. The insight you had on the murderer."
Brett blushes a little, with a wry smile. "Well...if you're sure. I mean, that was just sort of...drunken bragging, you know? I'm sure someone else has thought of it. Someone smarter than me."
"Don't get bashful on me now, I still need to hear your theory." his partner grinned at him. "Even if it was just a drunken idea."
"Alright. Well. You remember that guy who was killed that bangtail last year?"
"Of course." he nodded, the case had been all over the newspapers.
"Well, he stabbed her. I heard some of the guys talking, and they said that he was...you know...not working right." He smirks a bit, but is a little bashful talking about such things.
"Impotent, you mean." his partner smirked.
"Yeah. You heard that too?"
"Yeah, but I think that might just be a case of certain constables not getting any themselves. Have to talk about it instead." he shrugged, twirling his nightstick.
Brett laughs, especially with the innuendo of the nightstick. "True. But...I started asking, and people told me that guys who have...that problem...often kill with knives, instead."
"So?"
"...so I think this guy we're after now might be stabbing people because he can't...you know...-stab- people." He fingers his own nightstick, rather provocatively.
His partner laughed. "Is that gonna help us find him?"
Brett frowns. "That's true. I guess not. I don't think...But it would be funny if it were true," he grins.
"I suppose so." John chuckled, shrugging.
"Brrr...I hate being out at this time, before the lamplighters are finished. It's spooky," Brett says, huddling into his coat. "I hope we find this guy soon." Something occurs to the young constable. "Say...if he's stabbing men...wouldn't that mean?" He snickers.
John smirked. "Afraid of the dark?" he grabbed Brett around the shoulders. "He's a sodomite?" he chuckled darkly.
Brett laughs. "No, I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of people lurking in the dark to shoot us or cub us over the head." He playfully pushes his partner away. "Well, yeah."
John grabbed Brett, pushing him roughly against the wall with a laugh, grinning down at the shorter man, leaning into him. "Like you?"
"...what?" Brett laughs, a little nervously. "What're you talking about, Butcher? You know I've never..."
"Really, Seabrooke?" John leans in, still smirking, to kiss the other violently.
Brett gasps, melting against his partner for a moment, before recoiling and wiping his lips. "That's...not funny," he says, face flushed. He's not completely sure what he's feeling.
John laughed. "So you're not a sodomite? News to me."
"No, I'm not, but I'm starting to think you are," he says, trying to laugh the incident off. "Let's keep moving, we've scared everything away from here."
John laughed again, following his partner down the dark streets.
Brett shakes his head as they move on, trying to put the strange moment behind him. He still has a weird feeling, but dismisses it as being hungover. He's a little more guarded around his partner than usual, however.
"Want to get some drinks when we're done here?" John asked.
"Of course," he says, relaxing. Everything seems to be back to normal. "Though it'd be kind of nice to see him. I haven't shot anyone, have you?"
"Yeah, but I missed." he grinned. "Didn't you hear this story?"
"No!" he laughs. "Tell me. It must've been before we were partners."
"It was. It was a man who'd shot his wife and a man he'd caught with her. He was running and I shot his ear clean off." John shook his head.
Brett laughs. "I wouldn't exactly call that missing...did he stop, at least? And if he was running, that's pretty good. Probably better than I could do," he admits, fiddling with his pistol. "I've clubbed plenty of people, of course, but you know that."
"No one's been far enough away for you to use your pistol." John nodded. "He did stop, fell over and screamed for bloody mercy."
"Well, then, you didn't miss," Brett grins, "and the first round's on me for it tonight." He yawns. "It's awfully quiet tonight. If he is out there 'stabbing' guys, it's not here."
"Maybe he's getting a drink too." John chuckled. "God knows it's a good night for one. I think it's going to rain."
"Blech. I hate when it rains when we're on duty. I always smell like a wet sheep in this coat. Perhaps we should check the drinking establishments for him?" he suggests.
"A wonderful idea." the older man nodded. "And perhaps we'll get something to warm ourselves with while we're there."
"Mmm, sounds good. Something wenchly, or something to drink?"
"Would your pocketbook object to both?" John suggested. "If you buy the drinks, I'll pay for the rest."
Brett grins. "Sounds alright by me. Lead the way."
John spied a favorite place of his and headed that way, Brett in tow. He went to arrange for some company while Brett bought them a few rounds. After he'd arranged it, he went to his partner, grabbing his drink. "She'll meet us upstairs."
"She? Just one? You haven't been playing cards again, have you?" He nudges his partner in the ribs. "We'll just have to take turns then."
"She said she could take both at once." John grinned, nudging his partner back. "And the cards have been good to me lately, she's pricier than the usual bangtail we get."
"...alright..." he says, a little uncertain. "...how..." he asks after a moment. He doesn't want to sound naive in front of his older partner, but he is genuinely confused.
John smiles, he can feel his cock hardening. "Don't worry, I'll show you." he downed his drink.
Brett scratches the back of his neck, looking up at his partner. "Alright," he says, doing the same. "I trust you."
They went upstairs. The woman was already mostly undressed. John stripped off his coat and pants.
Brett follows suit, if a little more reluctantly. The woman is considerably healthier looking than their usual fair, and he soon relaxes.
John gets Brett to lay on the bed, pushing the woman on top of him. She starts to stroke and rub his cock. Brett can hear John jerking himself off behind her.
Brett is a quite confused, but all his blood is busy, so he doesn't put up much fuss. He soon forgets John is there.
The woman sits up a bit and starts to ride Brett, leaning over him so her breasts are in his face, his cock sheathed in her.
"Ahhh...yeah..." Brett groans, rubbing his face in her breasts. For a moment he wonders why she's above him.
Then his question is answered as he feels John's cock slide in next to his, making her seem much tighter and forcing louder moans out of her. John groaned, grabbing the woman's hips.
Brett squirms a bit, quite shocked by this unprecedented sensation. "Butcher! The hell...!" he gasps, still thrusting. Part of him, he's concerned to discover, is enjoying feeling the weight and strength of his partner through the woman.
John groans with every thrust, rocking his partner's body with every movement. For a few moments, they both forget about the prostitute. John's fingers find Brett's thigh, pulling him closer.
Brett groans, feeling the large, powerful hand close around his thigh. He reaches down and squeezes his partner's hand, thrusting as much as he can beneath two people, his cock rubbing against the other man's.
"Yes..." John managed, alternating his rhythm so that every time his partner thrust in, he was pulling out, their cocks pressed close, rubbing against each other.
Brett gasps, wrapping his arms around the woman to grasp his partner, hardly able to move his hips, but very close to finishing. "God, John, god!" he moans, the woman almost forgotten. He's never felt anything like this.
"Fuuck." John hissed. His partner crying out his name - his first name, no less- sent him right over the edge and he came inside the prostitute.
Brett follows a second later, clawing at John's sides because he can't properly reach his back.
After John pulled out, the woman climbed off Brett, gathered her clothes and left without a word. John chuckled, collapsing onto the bed with his partner.
Brett laughs helplessly, then looks at his partner with white-faced horror. "What...what did we just..."
"We had something to warm us up." he laughed softly. "Tighter that way, isn't it?"
"Ah...yeah...it is, at that. Have you done that before?" He smiles; if John does it, it must be ok, and not...weird.
"Yeah." he grinned, pulling his naked partner in closer to rest on his shoulder.
Brett has never experienced this kind of physical closeness, and he revels in it, curling right against his partner, eyes half-closed. "Mmm..."
