Cuttin' In

Work had ended awhile ago and I was feeling extremely on edge. My car was parked a little ways away but I knew where that Dr. Huang was. Pushing through the doors of the bar I walked by the bouncers and leaned against the wall, checking the place out. I folded my arms across my chest, narrowing my eyes. I wasn't a stalker, I'd never even considered doing it before, and this had just sort of happened. Impulsiveness is my middle name generally speaking, and generally speaking it got me into trouble. More often than not, unfortunately. All that didn't matter though, I was pissed.

I was in a mixer bar – gay or straight, nobody cared – down in the Greenwich Village called the Powder Keg. The music was loud – some Urban pop thing – and people mixed on the dance floor, shot pool, or sat at the bar, scamming the crowd for a possible fling. There were a couple of lookers out tonight I had to admit, but I had a wedding ring on. Now to spot him and persuade him to a secluded corner for a little chat.

Back wall, thank God, right near the bathrooms and the exit. Exactly what I needed. I had him practically cornered. He was checking out this wall that was covered in an array of old wanted ads from ages ago. I knew this place, and there were ads from the days when the pilgrims rolled over the praries in their wagons – made up or real I didn't know.

I walked over, hands clenched in my pockets, and stopped just behind him. He didn't have a drink in his hands, a good thing, and had his arms crossed. Snorting once I grabbed him by the arm. He turned instantly and I saw he wasn't wearing those dork glasses like earlier. I swallowed down the emotion that brought on and started walking, still holding onto his arm.

"Excu- oh, Detective Stabler, what-" he started to say.

"Shut up," I said, "now."

I tugged on the FBI geeks arm.


"Shut. Up."

Before I let him struggle I pulled him into the hall where the music dulled almost immediately. He asked me what I was doing but I ignored him. I wasn't really sure where this was going, but it was going. I pushed him through the back door and into the alley behind the bar. No one in sight. I didn't know if it was good or bad.

"What's your problem?" he asked.

"I don't like FBI shrinks cuttin' in on me and tellin' me what I already know. Pisses me off."

He chuckled. "Ah, territorial, hmm? And you followed me all the way to Greenwich to just say that?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Fuck you."

His smile didn't go away.

"You're excellent at masking your feelings. Simply amazing."

"And what's that supposed to mean, Doctor?"

He leaned close, nose almost touching mine. He was still amused, and that was pissing me off. "Very interesting. So you think I can't read between the lines? I'm trained to notice all those little flickers across your face and I could tell right away, no matter how mad you got from me giving you advice. You're attracted to me, aren't you?"

I flinched and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him. "Repeat that."

"I don't have to."

The statement was so quick and simple I felt my blood begin to boil. My heart pounded. I swallowed hard, trying not to grind my teeth. What a pompous prick. Figures that Mr. Doctorate thinks he knows everything – thought he knew everything today.

"I'm married. And I have kids. I'm faithful."

"And I can tell you don't care about any of those factors." He stroked my arm.

I reacted instantly. I had his face cupped in my hands, his face fit just perfectly there as if they were just for him, and my lips rammed into his so hard it hurt. He hit the wall back first, but the groan didn't tell me he was in pain. He was enjoying it.

He hummed in pleasure as I pressed closer to him, as if that was possible, and his arms tightened about my waist. Our mouths opened and he felt like velvet. I cupped the back of his head with my hand. I hadn't kissed someone like this since Cathy and I first met.

I was hard almost instantly. My cock pressed against his stomach and I rubbed against him. His hands moved down and squeezed my ass.

I pulled away for breath, my heart pounding. His lips pressed against my neck, then he bit me. He reached down and gripped me, stroking me roughly through my pants.

I moaned and he laughed softly at me again, still stroking. I was only a few seconds away and I knew it. Maybe he did too. "Like I thought."

Pressed his lips against his temple, reaching down and knocking away his hand. We kissed again, sweat breaking out over my temples as I reached down and returned the favor. I hadn't done this in awhile – not since high school that was for sure.

He gritted his teeth, moving against me, panting into my shoulder. "My apartment's in SoHo – it's not too far."

I grinned as I gripped him harder and he let out another moan, thrusting against me. It was good enough for me. Definitely good enough for me.