Author's note: This chapter is dedicated to CT. Thanks for the Frostie chat and the inspiration.

CH 6: Home Run

"Told you I'd get more hits than you," Frankie smirked, twisting the bill of his ball cap just enough to take the shade off the left side of his face so he could make eye contact with Frost as he gloated.

"I thought Jane was joking when she said you were scouted in high school…" Frost pursed his lips and shook his head as he pulled off his hitting gloves in defeat. On the one hand, he hated losing these bets with Frankie. He was competitive. They both were. But, Frost thought he'd probably had it a little worse off as a kid. His family moved around a lot, friends were hard to come by, and there was his minority status at his school when they finally settled down in Boston. Being good at something like sports was always the easiest and quickest way to get noticed…by girls, sure, but also by guys who would let you be a part of a team if you were good enough. And now Frankie would get possession of Guardian Chogokin, and he'd place him right on the entertainment center in the living room so Frost would see his lost prize every time he came over.

"No joke," Frankie smiled and tossed his bat up in the air, end over end and caught it. "If it weren't for that injury…who knows what could have been." He shrugged and sighed.

Frost watched him toss the bat a few more times, his eyes wandering down Frankie's toned bicep as it flexed. Some dirt from the batting cage had mixed with his sweat and muddy rivulets trickled down his arm. "I don't know, you don't have it so bad now."

"No, no I suppose I don't." Sometimes he wondered what it would have been like if he had made it to the pros. But, he had a job that he loved, he was with his family, and…well, his life as it was had produced other benefits. He stalked towards Frost, aware of the other man's eyes roaming over his arms. He'd chosen the cutoff shirt for just that reason. "Besides, the pros wouldn't have Guardian Chogokin."

"Ah," Frost nodded, chuckling, "Yeah, that definitely makes up for it."

"Definitely," Frankie agreed, stepping into Frost and pushing him two steps back into the chain link of the cage. "Who needs a fancy car, buckets full of money, a mansion, women throwing their bras at you as you walk by…"

"I don't know, that might be ni…" Frost was cut off as Frankie kissed him gruffly, claiming Frost's mouth as his prize every bit as much as he planned to claim the action figure later on. Frost could feel Frankie's hard on rubbing against him, and felt his own cock stiffen at the touch and anticipation, but he couldn't relax. His eyes darted from side to side, fearful that other patrons might see them. He pulled out of Frankie's grasp, "We should, uh, take this back to my place…settle up."


Frost took Frankie's hand as they bounded up the steps two by two to his apartment. He fumbled with the keys at the door and dropped them as Frankie pressed him hard into the door, grinding hard into his ass as hot breath rolled over and wrapped around his neck.

"Pick up the keys," Frankie growled lustfully as he backed off enough for Frost to retrieve the key ring and open the door.

They spilled into the apartment, pulling at clothes and knocking into furniture like gawky teenagers as Frankie pushed Frost towards the bedroom. Once there, the winner let his prize back away unmolested to finish stripping. Frost kicked his shoes and socks off and then let his shorts and briefs fall to the floor. His cock was hard and straining towards his lover. He began to reach for it, to give it a few strokes.

"Don't you dare," Frankie ordered, stripping off his own clothes as he walked towards the bed. He sat on the edge, running his hand down Frost's side and ass, admiring the view as the man in front of him turned to face him. It was a sight that never failed to impress: the way the color of his skin showed every muscle, how smooth and silky it felt to the touch…yet powerful as well. His eyes traveled lower to Frost's erection and he smiled thinking about the way his cock felt in his hand and inside him.

"You look good from there, but, I like the view better when you're on your knees," Frankie said with a coy smile.

"I'm remembering all of this for the next time I win." Frost leaned forward to take Frankie's lips before he complied. He couldn't abide being completely submissive, so he kissed his lover roughly, relishing the low growl Frankie emitted when he pulled back. Slowly, he sank to his knees, kissing Frankie's chest and biting one nipple before he allowed Frankie to guide his mouth to his cock.

Frost swirled his tongue around the tip, blowing a cool breath over it just so he could listen to Frankie gasp and shudder. He took his lover's cock in his hand and stroked firmly, but maddeningly slow.

Next to orgasm, this was the best part Frankie thought…watching. The expert way in which Frost's hands cupped and stroked him, how just the sight of his tongue darting out to wet his lips before taking him in his mouth sent a jolt of excitement through his body.

"Did you get it?" Frankie asked, reaching down to grasp Frost lightly by the wrist before he was too far gone.

Frost smiled knowingly, "Yeah, I got it." He twisted towards his nightstand and pulled open the first drawer. There was no need to rummage; it was right in front…waiting. He hooked the ring with his finger and twirled it playfully before letting Frankie get a good look.

Frankie reached down and gave himself a few strokes in anticipation and then removed his hand as Frost stretched the ring and slid it all the way down his shaft before letting the ring constrict. "Mmm," Frankie grunted as he adjusted to the pressure.

"Like that?" Frost whispered, his tongue trailing up the underside of Frankie's shaft before flicking across the head. In one smooth motion he took Frankie's cock in his mouth and began to suck, reaching between his lover's legs to activate the vibration on the ring.

"Fuck…" Frankie called out as his grip on Frost's head tightened and he began to thrust.

The unexpected sound of the Driz blaring from the cellphone in the pocket of Frost's shorts on the floor caught them both by surprise. Frost coughed as he let Frankie's cock slip from his mouth, "I'm on call and that's your sister's ringtone…"

"And…instant boner-kill when you mention my sister," Frankie switched the vibration off and flopped backwards on the bed with a sigh. "I guess you better answer it."


Frankie tagged along to observe. If he was going to make homicide he figured it wouldn't hurt to observe as many cases as possible.

"Fascinating…" They heard Maura remark as they approached the scene on a little-traveled portion of a running trail. "Did you know that prior to 1668 and the work of Italian physician, Francesco Reddi, the theory of spontaneous generation dominated burgeoning forensics…that maggots spontaneously developed from rotting meat?" She looked up at Jane and smiled, standing as Frankie and Frost approached. "The amount of insect activity on this corpse will provide an excellent opportunity to hone my knowledge of forensic entomology!"

As Maura stepped aside they got their first look at the corpse, though the smell of putrefaction had greeted them long before. Fly larvae oozed from the orifices.

Frost brought his fist to his mouth and coughed, pointing at his eyes with his other hand, "They're um…he's got…coming out of…I'm not feeling…" Frankie was too slow to catch him as the squeamish detective keeled over backwards.


"And that's what happened the day your Papa asked me to marry him…" Frost smiled, running his fingers through the little tuft of curls on the infant's head as he bounced his daughter lightly in the contraption slung around his chest.

"When she's old enough to understand what you're saying you're going to have to censor that story you know," Frankie laughed as he climbed down from the ladder.

"Maybe I'll tell her you're the one that fainted," Frost joked, looking up at the newly hung shelf. He pointed, "Crooked."

Frankie turned, "Is not. And the first time she skins her knee she'll never believe I was the one who fainted…BBK."

"Put the level up there, it's crooked!" Frost insisted. "And if you ever tell Amelia the other detectives called me barf-bag kid, I'll divorce you."

Frankie chuckled as he climbed the ladder again and placed the level on the shelf. "Dammit."

"Hey!" Frost covered the baby's ears with his hands.

"Really?" Frankie shook his head as he descended and approached his husband and daughter, "After the story you just told her?" He paused a couple of steps from them and just took in the adorable sight.

"What?" Frost stopped bouncing his cooing daughter and looked from her to his husband.

"I'm just picturing in a couple of years when you're fixing her hair and picking out matching hair bows for all of her outfits," Frankie smiled as he wrapped his arms around them.

Frost arched an eyebrow, "You think I'm going to let you do it? You can barely match your ties to your dress shirts…"

The stark white light was nearly blinding as he opened his eyes. Frost blinked and looked around at the hospital room until he saw Frankie looking back at him.

"Knocked yourself out when you fainted. Don't worry, it's not serious…you've just been a little all over the place. Maura says we've really got to get your, and I quote, vasovagal syncope under control," Frankie chuckled as Frost groaned and reached up to massage his temples. "Sounded like you were just having a pretty crazy dream?"

Frost chuckled under his breath, "Dude, I'm just saying this now…I am NOT wearing the baby bjorn."