Second Chances -- Page 2

Second Chances

Page Two

Part Three

"Yeah, I did want to talk to you about something," Carlos said. "After you were in the hospital, I went out and bought something for you, hold on," he said and his chair scraped against the floor as he stood.

Trent watched Carlos disappear into the bedroom to return with a hand-sized rosewood box.

"Now, I know how you feel, but..." Carlos didn't finish as he turned the box over to the private investigator.

Trent slowly opened the hinged top and glanced down. As soon as he saw the contents, his eyes flashed back up to Carlos'.

"Carlos, I can't, you know that," Trent said.

Inside the box rested a series 81 Beretta with holder and ammunition. Trent stared at the shiny, black, casing, his eyes following the length of the muzzle before snapping the lid shut again and handing it back to Carlos.

"But Trent, would you just consider..."

"No," Trent snapped. "Absolutely not, and I can't believe you're even asking me to."

Carlos flinched slightly at the hurt tone in Trent's voice, as though he had been betrayed.

"What happened to Billy happened when we were kids, you 'have' to move on," Carlos insisted.

Trent's eyes clouded over in an unreadable veil. Trent's mind transported him back to that day of his youth, when he was only seven years old. Billy, a fellow schoolmate and friend had asked Trent and Carlos to his house after school. Trent watched as Billy went to the closet in the hall, and standing on a chair, pulled down an old shoe box from the top shelf. Trent looked on in awe as Billy pulled out his father's 22 caliber revolver.

'Wow, can I hold that?' Trent whispered with anticipation, his throat going dry in nervousness.

'Sure, if you wanna,' Billy replied and placed the gun in Trent's hands.

'Think we could shoot it outside?' Trent asked as his fingers closed around the solid brown handle. The weight of it was heavy in his hands, the feel of metal was cool against his skin.

'Nah, I just wanted to show it to you, we can't shoot that thing. My dad would find out,' the red haired boy answered. 'I'd better put it back before he finds out.' Billy reached out his fingers and took hold of the pistol's barrel and tried to pull it away from Trent's grasp.

'No, I'm not done holding it yet,' Trent protested, holding onto the weapon with both hands.

'Come on, you're gonna get me into trouble,' Billy complained.

Billy started to pull the gun out of Trent's hands, but Trent wasn't letting go. He jerked back and they tussled over it.

'Come on guys, quit your fighting,' Carlos interrupted, but neither boy paid attention to him.

'Give it to me,' Trent ordered.

'No,' Billy wailed and jerked even harder.

Trent's finger found it's way onto the trigger and when Billy tugged once more, suddenly a loud explosion rang out so loud that it hurt Trent's ears. Trent watched as a startled look filled Billy's blue eyes. Billy's hands fell away from the barrel as the boy's head dropped down to stare at his chest, his fingers tentatively reaching up to be covered in dark, crimson, blood.

'Billy?' Trent's voice came out small and weak.

The boy raised his head to look at Trent in the face, disbelief and fear filled both of their eyes. Billy opened his mouth to say something but the only sound that was made was a throaty gurgle. The boy's eyes closed and he fell over towards Trent.

'Billy!!!' Trent cried. He caught the smaller boy in his arms and they both went down onto the ground. Acrid blood slowly spilled onto Trent's hands, covering them in warm stickiness that smeared over Trent's shirt. Billy's body shuddered against Trent as the boy drew in his last breath.

"No," Trent whispered softly. "You know I don't carry guns. Never."

Carlos sighed. "Would you at least think about it for awhile before deciding? I mean come on..."

"No, you come on Carlos, you were there, you saw Billy die in my arms. You can't ask me to carry one." Trent snapped back.

"Trent, we were kids, it was a accident, a horrible, unforgettable, accident but you can't blame yourself for it the rest of your life," Carlos argued.

"No," Trent said emphatically, closing his eyes and shaking his head in denial.

"Trent, try to listen to me for a change. Working the job you do, you need to carry a gun to protect yourself. I could take you out to the range, show you the proper way to use it, just as a back up," Carlos offered, trying his best to let Trent know how much this meant to him.

"I protect myself with my martial arts, that's the only protection I trust," Trent responded.

"Oh yeah, like that worked 'so' well with Riggs didn't it?" Carlos said coldly.

"Are you saying I don't have the skill to take care of myself?" Trent challenged, an icy blue fire starting to storm in the depths of his eyes.

"Trent, this doesn't have anything to do with your skill and you know it! God, look at Walker. You know no one knows what he does or has his skill and even he carries a gun and uses it when he has to," Carlos argued.

"That's him, not me," Trent maintained with an unnerving calmness.

"Do you even know how stubborn and selfish you're sounding?" Carlos, his own anger starting to rise higher and hotter.

"Just leave it alone Carlos, please," Trent implored.

"No, I won't leave it alone!" Carlos roared, his Latin temper starting to really come to the surface.

"Why Carlos? Why is this so damn important to you?" Trent pressed.

"Because I'm in love with you damn it!" Carlos blurted.

The police officer stared in mortification when what he had just said finally hit him. Tossing the rosewood box with the Baretta down on the table, Carlos fled outside, the door slamming shut as he left.

The cold, still, night air cloaked around Carlos, the moistness reaching out its tendrils with a jolt, not that the police detective even noticed. Carlos heard the steady pounding of feet against ground and noticed he was walking briskly, though he knew not where, he just lost himself in the repetitive motion of putting one foot in front of the other. With each step he cursed his stupidity, cursed his weakness, cursed his own vulnerability.

His feet carried him along until he finally came to a stop at the dock leading to the lake. He must have followed the only path he was familiar with.

He dropped down onto the edge, letting his feet hang over the side as he panted to catch his breath.

How? How could he have been so totally out of control as to let something like that just slip? He knew why. Trent had pushed him to his limit, had infuriated him beyond restraint. How could someone with so much compassion for others not care what happened to his own life? Didn't he realize how many other people depended on him, needed him...that Carlos needed him? It was almost as if Trent didn't care about himself or what others thought about him. Carlos knew Trent didn't have a death wish per se, but it was like others' safety mattered more to him than his own. As if by putting himself in harms way, he could somehow make up for the life he had accidentally taken. It was an absurd, foolhardy notion and in wanting to shock some sense into Trent, Carlos had inadvertently lost control and because of that loss of control, Carlos had probably screwed up his most valued friendship.

Carlos took a moment to look up into the night sky. The crescent shaped moon hovered overhead in the cloudless night. Thousands of stars set the ebony sky ablaze in a way that could never be seen within city limits. All around him, Carlos heard the chirping of crickets and other nocturnal animals claiming their territory. It would have been relaxing if Carlos had been in the right frame of mind to enjoy it. Instead, he stared into the inky depths of the lake and stopped to wonder if it would swallow him up if he just dove into its velvet blackness.

How was their friendship going to survive this, Carlos asked himself? It would be too much to expect and hope for that Trent would just be able to forget about it. If the shoe had been on the other foot, Carlos wouldn't have been able to dismiss such a declaration so easily.

Okay, so that left him with the option of dealing with the problem head on. He could always say he hadn't meant it like it had come out, but with the way he'd left, he knew Trent wouldn't buy that.

Carlos' insides ached with the thought that Trent might never want to have anything to do with him again. And could he really blame him? Not when Carlos realized the implications it would have on their lives.

Well, Carlos decided, there wasn't any going back now. He couldn't lie and tell Trent he hadn't meant it because it wasn't in him to pretend anymore and that in the end would be just as damaging to their friendship as it would be to just deal with it and move on. Would Trent understand? Would he be able to accept this in their friendship or had Carlos pushed him too far? What was he going to do?

'Tell him...you don't want that kind of regret...second chances don't come along every day.' Walker's advice played over in Carlos' mind with an uncanny clarity.

Could it be that simple? Should he just tell Trent everything? Take the risk and hope for the best? What if he didn't and never got the chance? Would he be able to live with that decision? At least this way he would know, wouldn't always think of himself as a coward for hiding from what he felt.

With the feeling of faith and hope he had been feeling that night in the hospital when he had made his promise to Trent, Carlos started to head back to the cabin. Whatever happened, he was done running, done with the denials.

Hesitantly, he climbed the steps of the porch and they squeaked under his feet. Carlos' hand poised over the doorknob and his heart was racing in his chest. This was it, all or nothing, he told himself and opened the wooden door.

Trent was sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace with his back against the sofa, turned away from the door. He had a glass of wine in his hand from dinner he was still working on emptying and a portable stereo that he had brought was next to him and was quietly playing one of Garth Brooks' songs. Without looking behind him, Trent reached over and turned the volume down on the radio.

"Finally decide to come back?" he asked casually and Carlos didn't know what to make of the tone.

"Yeah, couldn't stay out there all night you know," Carlos responded, still trying to tame his erratic heartbeat that seemed to be pounding in his ears.

"Come here and sit down will you?" the P.I. beckoned.

Not knowing for sure what was going on, Carlos did as he was asked. He walked over and lowered himself onto the floor beside Trent and was handed his glass of wine, which he took a healthy sip from.

"I take it that this had something to do with the talk you were wanting to have with me querido?" Trent asked.

Carlos blinked and opened his mouth but nothing came out at first.

"You heard that?" he asked finally, and wondered if Trent knew the meaning of the Spanish word he'd just used or if it was simply a mimic of what he had called Trent.

"Yeah, I did," Trent said quietly.

"Then why didn't you say anything before now?" Carlos wondered.

"Because I figured that you'd tell me what was really on your mind eventually when you were ready to," Trent responded, still not having looked up once to meet Carlos' eyes.

"And now that you know?" Carlos asked cautiously.

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?" Trent asked.

"Because, it wasn't until I saw you in the hospital that I realized how much you've come to mean to me, how much I need you." Carlos paused and risked looking at Trent. "At first I didn't want to admit it because of what it could do to our friendship, but then the harder it was for me to keep denying it."

Trent sat silently, seeming to be deep within his own thoughts. The longer the silence filled the room, the more apprehensive Carlos became. He wanted Trent to look at him so he could see into his eyes and maybe be able to pick up on the other detective's thoughts. Finally Carlos couldn't stand it any longer. "Look Trent, I know this wasn't something you were expecting, trust me, I wasn't either, but I don't want it to end up ruining our friendship because if it did..."

"Carlos," Trent interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"There's something I want you to listen to," Trent told him.

"But," Carlos protested, having so much he wanted to say, to try and explain.

"Just listen, okay?" Trent cut him off.

The private investigator pressed one of the buttons on the stereo and Carlos listened as the soft strains of a guitar filled the room and the gentle voice of Travis Tritt started to sing.

The music faded out and Trent clicked the radio off again while his eyes looked up for the first time to meet Carlos'. When they did, Carlos' breath caught in his throat at what he saw...his own feelings mirrored back at him.

"You're not the only one who did a lot of thinking while I was in the hospital. Lord knows I had plenty of time on my hands," Trent murmured.

Carlos' pulse bounded, his throat constricting at what he thought he was hearing.

"Trent? What are you trying to tell me?" Carlos asked in a hushed tone. A glimmer of hope trickled through him, but he wasn't willing to put any faith in it just yet...not until he actually heard the words would he be willing to believe.

Trent carefully set his wine off to the side and took Carlos' out of his hand as well with slow deliberance.

Trent's face gradually started to come closer to Carlos' until only a hair's breadth separated them, once more close enough for Carlos to feel Trent's breath caress his cheek.

"What I'm saying is I love you too," Trent whispered huskily, sapphire eyes blazing with promise as they stared into soft hazel.

Unable to resist the nearness, the look of tenderness and affection in Trent's azure eyes, unable to resist his own longing anymore, Carlos closed the distance between them as his lips descended onto Trent's.

Trent's lips were firm and moist under his own, but softened under the pressure of his. The kiss was unassuming, exploratory, but it still sent electric sparks to shoot down the length of Carlos' body.

He continued to softly caress Trent's lips with his own, letting Trent's reactions guide him and when Trent let out the softest of moans, Carlos let his tongue dart out to lightly trace Trent's full bottom lip. Trent's mouth opened under his and Carlos took the invitation to deepen the kiss.

The police officer's tongue daringly pushed it's way inside to taste the sweetness that until now he had only dreamed of. Trent tasted of wine and another more nondescript flavor that Carlos knew was exclusively the P.I.

Trent's hands came to rest on Carlos' shoulders to pull him slightly closer while Carlos let his fingers drift up to seize the back of Trent's head, holding him still while brushing through soft flaxen hair. Carlos was pleased and more than a little surprised when he felt no hesitation from Trent as the other man's agile tongue unabashedly claimed his own, both dueling and savoring with gentle strokes.

Trent's hands had fallen from Carlos' shoulders to rest on his hips. They roamed around back and worked their way up under Carlos' T-shirt until they rested on the bare skin of Carlos' lower back. Carlos shivered a little at the contact.

When they finally broke the kiss out of the need for air, Carlos drew Trent closer into his arms and kissed his way over Trent's sharp jawline, nibbled at the stubbled skin of his cheek until he worked his way down Trent's pale neck. Trent murmured softly deep in his throat and Carlos found it extremely erotic, wanting to hear more of it.

Carlos' hands came down and slid under Trent's T-shirt, running his fingertips over the skin that was so hot under his hands, heat that seemed to sear him as his hands opened up and spread to cover as much of Trent's ribs and stomach as he could manage.

Trent raised his arms and Carlos pulled the material up and over the P.I.'s head and tossed it to the side. Gently, Carlos urged Trent to lay back onto the floor rug under them and Trent went willingly, pulling Carlos down with him. The Hispanic officer ran his fingers over the planes and muscles now revealed to him, over the defined pectoral muscles, sweeping over the flat stomach and back up again. When Carlos brushed against Trent's nipples, the detective sucked in a sharp breath and Carlos repeated the movement until both rosy nubs were taunt and peaked and then covered one with his mouth. Drawing the hard nub past his lips, Carlos softly suckled and was rewarded with a moan as Trent ran his fingers through Carlos' sable curled hair.

Flicking the pebbled hardness with his tongue, Carlos moved to deliver the same ardent attention to its partner. Trent's back arched up in an effort to meet him. His hands kept up broad caresses over Trent's stomach and sides, rubbing lightly over the waist down to the band of Trent's jeans and back up again.

"I've wanted you for so long," Carlos murmured against the crisp curls, nuzzling against them with his nose and taking in Trent's scent.

"You've got me if you want me," Trent responded breathlessly, one hand still tangled in Carlos' hair while other had snaked up once more under Carlos' gray T-shirt, his fingernails scraping against tanned skin.

"Always, querido, always," Carlos vowed in a thick voice.

Part Four

Carlos' fingers then softly brushed over the serrated, raised, scar above Trent's heart and could feel the rapid pulse of the P.I.'s heart under him. It hit him once more just how narrowly Trent had avoided a fatal wound. If it had just been a little lower, a little deeper... He didn't realize tears were falling until he noticed the wetness that had pooled onto the flawed flesh.

Trent grasped Carlos' cheeks, his fingers played out to frame the Latino's face. Tenderly, he pulled Carlos up until their lips met and brushed his mouth firmly over the police officer's.

"I'm safe love, I'm safe, it's all right now," Trent murmured reassuringly when he pulled back slightly.

Trent used his hands to raise Carlos' face towards him until their eyes met and locked onto one another's. Carlos could see a tempest of emotions roaring through the azure eyes. Trent pulled Carlos more firmly atop of him, their bodies pressed tightly against each other, feeling the heat that could still be felt through the layers of clothes they wore.

"Make love to me?" Trent's voice was a husky rasp, his hands running up and down the length of Carlos' body to his hips where he was held firmly against the blonde man.

A shudder ran through Carlos at the mere image of what Trent was asking and he felt his body respond to just the very thought of making love to his detective. As his groin was rubbed against Trent's, he felt a similar need pressing against his own.

"Oh yes, but not here," Carlos managed to answer, knowing that even with the throw rug that the floor was too hard when there was a full, soft, bed waiting for them in the bedroom.

Trent nodded and they both stood. Continuing to taste the other's mouth, both men crossed the short distance to the bedroom.

Standing beside the bed, Carlos reached down and pulled his shirt up and over his head. It landed on the floor in a heap as he unbuckled his belt and released the zipper. They fell down his hips and gathered around his ankles. He kicked shoes off and stepped out of them. During the entire time his eyes were riveted to Trent's body, watching in anticipation while Trent removed his own jeans. Once more Carlos' eyes were able to feast on the masculine, erotic, planes and lines of his soon-to-be lover's body and thought about what it would feel like under his questing hands.

Realizing the enormousness of what they were going to undertake, both men moved into the other's embrace. Carlos held Trent close, breathing in his scent, memorizing the feel of him against his body as their lips meshed against one another's. Carlos' hands slid the length of Trent's back to lightly cup the rounded curves of his buttocks.

"Are you sure?" Carlos asked softly.

Trent captured Carlos' lips and kissed him firmly, his hips moving subtly against the police officer's. "More than sure," he guaranteed.

Warm hands caressed Trent's rear through the thin material of the red briefs before dipping into the band to caress smooth, tender, flesh. Trent groaned and hungrily sought Carlos' mouth, greedily and avidly finding the other man's tongue and sucked it in-between his teeth.

Carlos pushed the red silk down lank hips, releasing Trent's firm member from its confines. The hardened shaft sprang free from its nest of fair curls, inflamed skin already leaking from arousal at the rounded tip.

Carlos ran his fingertips up Trent's soft thighs, rubbing the crease where the thighs met his hips. A moan escaped Trent's lips as Carlos' touch grew bolder and cupped the weighted, heavy, sac of Trent's scrotum before lightly tracing over the lightly veined length, lovingly roaming over the satin length.

"Oh that's it Carlos, feels so good when you touch me," Trent murmured, his hips instinctively starting to grind against the police officer's hand while his own hands did their own exploration of Carlos' chest, back, and taut rear.

Trent's breathing picked up a pace when Carlos' thumb rubbed back and forth over the slit of his weeping organ, the moisture collected there being spread liberally.

Carlos sank down onto his knees in front of the P.I., hands still stroking and touching. Soft hazel eyes flamed with arousal looked up into sapphire eyes seeking assent. Trent's fingers treaded though Carlos' hair as he gazed down with such love and trust that it felt like Carlos' heart was going to burst. Lightly, Trent urged Carlos' head forward.

The tip of Trent's member rested at Carlos' lips. The Hispanic officer let his tongue dart out to wet and taste just the fiery tip, circling around the head and taking in the salty flavor as it trickled onto the tip of his tongue.

Trent sighed and murmured, hips angling forward to try and capture more of the hot mouth that was teasing him. Carlos wouldn't be rushed though and drew his tongue up the underside and around the entire length with disarming slowness, letting himself enjoy the smell, taste, the feel of Trent.

"Oh Carlos, please," Trent pleaded.

Pleasure coursed through the police officer and settled warmly in his groin at the sound of his name said with such passion. He'd dreamed of hearing that tone from Trent's lips.

Trent moaned when Carlos closed his lips around the heated length and drew I it into his mouth as far as could, his tongue continuing to bathe and caress in a drifting pattern. Trent's hips instinctively started to buck lightly in rhythm to Carlos' mouth as cheeks and lips tenderly clasped down on him to bring him even more pleasure.

Trent was finding it hard to breathe, feeling consumed and surrounded by the knowing mouth, stirring the fire in his stomach with each intimate touch and stroke of the other man's tongue.

Carlos sped up, taking Trent in deeper and faster. The police officer's fingers grazed over Trent's behind, soothingly massaging the globes of flesh and probing lightly at the shadowed crevice.

Trent's fingers were entangled tightly in Carlos' curls, urging him on with barely coherent murmuring and moans that were getting louder and louder. Faster and faster Carlos took him in, feeling the blonde's muscles start to trembled and tighten. Trent felt himself spiraling closer and closer to the brink, feeling the lava-like heat growing stronger, spreading faster and faster through him. Carlos felt Trent's battle to hold onto his restraint and was just as determined to carry Trent over the edge, wanting to give as much pleasure as he could.

Abruptly, Trent's hands found Carlos' shoulders and pushed him back.

"No, stop, please," Trent panted heavily.

Carlos looked up at the P.I. with concern. "What's wrong?" His hands never stopped caressing Trent's legs and thighs soothingly.

"Too soon, too much..." Trent tried to explain, his body still shivering from sudden loss of Carlos' mouth.

Carlos stood and moved behind Trent, wrapping his arms around the other man's broad chest. He held him until Trent stilled and relaxed against him, gently kissing the nape of his neck and up behind Trent's ear.

"It's all right, we can go as slow as you want to, no rush querido," Carlos murmured. His body was making painful protests in rebellion, but the police officer promptly tried to shove it out of his mind and ignore it. This was too important to him, meant to much, to have it spoiled with his own greedy desires. He would wait as long as it took; he had waited this long and when the time was right, it would be something to be cherished.

Trent turned himself around in Carlos' embrace, endlessly blue eyes hazy with desire and affection bore straight into his own.

"No lover, what I meant was that I didn't want to come yet, not without you, with you in me," Trent whispered huskily. Trent's hand slid down between Carlos' legs to tenderly cup his aching erection and stroked it with his fingers just in case Carlos had any doubts about what he was asking for.

It was Carlos who shivered now, with longing and anticipation. Every nerve he had cried out in answer for what Trent was offering as his own breathing became hitched and shaky.

"I've not...have you ever?" Carlos' words seemed to come out muddled and he was frustrated at not being able to say what he wanted to.

"Been with another man before?" Trent offered.

"Yeah," Carlos managed to answer.

"No," Trent shook his head negatively. His hands came up to stroke Carlos' shoulders and neck. "So I guess that means we'll just have to take it slow and learn together."

The brilliant smile that played over Trent's face and sparkle that flared in his eyes left Carlos completely breathless and feeling dangerously weak. A part of him was more than a little pleased to know that Trent was trusting him with something he had trusted no other with, wanting to share with him a part of himself no other had touched. Another part of him though was self-conscious. What if he unintentionally hurt Trent? He wouldn't be able to bare that. Here refused to ever be a source of harm or pain to Trent. Never.

Trent seemed to sense what was going through the Hispanic detective's mind. Nibbling on the police officer's pouty, kiss swollen lips, Trent whispered, "I trust you."

With that singular, simple, phrase, Carlos felt all of his doubts and concerns melt and fade. Nothing in existence at that very moment seemed to be more important to Carlos than making love to the sexy, erotic, captivating man before him who seemed to have complete control of his heart. Once more he was hit by the fact that when it came to Trent Malloy, he was helpless to deny him anything.

Seeing the light in Carlos' eyes, Trent's hands roved down Carlos' ribs and hips until they stopped at the band of the black briefs Carlos still wore. Slowly, Trent peeled the tented, slightly damp, material away from Carlos' body and didn't stop until they rested around his ankles, which Carlos stepped out of.

Carlos felt the heavy stare of Trent's appreciative gaze as he took in Carlos' burgeoning, flushed, dark erection that was lifted towards Trent, defiantly asserting its need. Trent's fingers gently explored, feather-light touches that drove Carlos mad before the silken touch grew brazen.

The sweet aching Carlos felt began blossoming and spreading again in stronger currents. He could have lost himself so easily in the mere touch alone, but Trent stopped when Carlos' breathing become more ragged. Carlos wanted to growl in frustration at the loss, but before he could, Trent was moving onto the bed.

Laying down in the bed's center, Trent reached his arms out for Carlos who was pulled down willingly. At the first contact of Trent's full length, bare and warm, against his own, Carlos groaned low and deep in his throat as shivers of desire raced through him.

Carlos slid his body back and forth over Trent's, feeling the precious friction as their chests, stomachs, and groins rubbed against each other. Trent arched his hips up, in search of even more of the passionate contact. Carlos dropped kisses over Trent's mouth, neck, chest as Trent's fingers dug into his back. Minutes passed as each felt the other's ardor growing wilder.

The police officer wanted to take things slow, wanted the night to last, but he could feel the urgency coming to play in Trent's body, the same urgency threatening to consume him.

"Love, what can I use so I don't hurt you?" Carlos whispered gruffly, wondering where he found the strength to stop for a moment.

Trent paused and thought about it. "In the bathroom, in the cabinet, there's some lotion."

Carlos gave him a long, firm, hungry kiss before untangling himself from Trent's arms to adjoining bathroom. Searching, he quickly found the tube of skin lotion and returned to the warmth of the bed.

Trent deftly took the tube of lotion, opened it and squeezed out a healthy amount. Carlos' eyes drifted shut as he felt Trent's hand stroking him once more, coating his raging, heated, member with the gentlest of caresses, taking the time to make sure he was thoroughly covered thickly.

"Love you so much," Trent whispered.

"Love you too, querido," Carlos, his voice a mixture of a groan and whimper.

The back of Trent's other hand caressed the back of Carlos' cheeks, causing him to open his eyes.

"Show me," Trent spoke softly.

Taking the tube from the private investigator's hands, Carlos gently urged Trent to lay back in the center of the bed. When Trent was settled, Carlos poured some of the liquid on his own fingers and tenderly brought them in-between the soft, pliable cheeks as Trent spread his legs. Oh so gently, Carlos brushed over the muscular entrance, back and forth tormenting slow. Trent murmured and urged him on until the finger dipped into the impossibly tight channel.

"Feel good love?" Carlos asked, steadily working the digit in and out with painstaking care.

"Oh yeah, yeah," Trent assured him, moving his body and squirming against the touch.

Carlos continued working the muscular ring, feeling the gradual give and relaxation around his finger before adding a second. One finger-tip brushed against a certain spot inside of Trent that made his whole body arch and react.

"Oh god!" Trent cried out.

Carlos repeated the touch as he added a third finger. Trent was writhing against the bed, his body straining and glistening from beads of perspiration that had broken out on him.

"Ready love?" Carlos asked.

"Yes, yes, now, please," Trent moaned out, hips driving up for satisfaction.

Carlos removed his fingers and moved in-between Trent's legs that lifted and rested on around his waist. The tip of his member pressed against Trent's opening. Pausing, the police officer ran his hands over the P.I'.s biceps and up until their fingers were inter-laced. Burning umber eyes sought sapphire and judged readiness.

With vigilant care, Carlos pressed his hips forward slowly, feeling the muscular ring relent and accept him until the tip was inside the torrid depths. Trent gasped as Carlos eased in a little further. Carlos immediately held himself motionless.

"Don't stop," Trent whispered harshly, pushing his hips harder against the pressure.

Carlos moved until his upper body completely covered the other man's, and kissed him passionately until he felt the stress in Trent's body subside. When he felt the tension abate enough, he shifted himself and pressed in even further. Before he was even aware of it, Carlos was completely encased in the fervent chasm of Trent's body.

Carlos was consumed, immersed, in the constricting heat. So tight, suffocating ,but so, so, good. So right. He felt himself fill his lover to brink, being welcomed, accepted.

It was a feeling Carlos had never known with another lover, never so intense. It was threatening to overwhelm him, drown him in endless sensations and he had to hold himself still until the reeling waned. When he felt they were both ready, Carlos began moving inside the private investigator.

Carlos started slowly thrusting his hips as Trent raised up to meet him, strong legs holding him snugly against him. Carlos moaned into Trent's mouth at the intensity of the friction.

Carlos strove to keep the pace slow out of fear of hurting Trent and prolonging the exquisite agony, but Trent spurred him on to go faster and deeper, thrusting his own hips up insistently, gyrating, grinding into him. The need in Carlos was reaching a desperate level. His blood pounding, throbbing in his ears, the longing he had fought for so long cresting, pulsating in carnal demand that mimicked the rhythm of his thrusting.

Their sweat mingled and cooled against their heated skin as their bodies came together, merging and melding as the craving for satisfaction and completion took over and the thrusting became faster, more fevered, yet. In tandem they drove each other higher and higher.

Carlos could feel his tethered control becoming unraveled and frayed, knew he couldn't fight much longer, the edge loomed too near, the sensations too sweet and he knew it was towering just as closely for Trent.

Reaching between their bodies, Carlos' hand found Trent's solid, moist, inflamed erection and began stroking it in time to his deep thrusts.

Trent moaned loudly, his entire body tightening up in response to the coupled assault. Carlos watched Trent's hard muscles grow rigid and strained. The P.I.'s golden head arched back, a hoarse, strangled cry escaping his throat as his entire body trembled.

Carlos had the barest of thoughts that he had just witnessed the most profoundly beautiful image in his life before hearing his own name called and felt scalding, viscid, moisture covering and flowing over his hand.

Trent's voice in unison with feeling the quivering body under his, the tight passage anchoring down on to him, was all it took for Carlos to reach his own completion.

A maelstrom of pure delight rocket through his body, a vortex that crashed in around him, engulfing him in wave after wave of ecstasy even as he felt his own essence surging into his lover's body.

When the tumultuous rippling finally slowed and Carlos was brought back from the beyond, he gained enough control over his quivering muscles and ragged breathing to tenderly, cautiously, remove himself from Trent's body.

He was gathered up and held to the P.I.'s chest. Their lips found one another and they kissed slowly, thoroughly. Trent's body was warm and soft against him and Carlos couldn't recall a time he had ever felt anymore sated and content. How could he have ever had any doubts about how right this was? Had he ever felt so alive, so loved before that night?

Within the soft hazy cloud of contentment, something in the back of Carlos' mind still gnawed at him. There was something he still needed to get off his chest and it simply couldn't wait.

His broad hands stroked Trent's placid body lovingly as he looked into the cobalt blue of Trent's eyes.

"Querido?"

"Hmmm?" Trent asked sleepily, his hand drawing lazy circles over Carlos' back.

"This wasn't just...I mean I want to..." Carlos cursed inwardly. Why was it so difficult to just say what was on his mind? He tried again. "Look Trent, this really meant something to me."

Trent's arms tightened their hold. "It meant something to me too. It wouldn't have happened otherwise," he assured the Hispanic detective.

"Well, what I'm saying is that I'm hoping this means we're starting something serious," Carlos said, his eyes gazing deeply into Trent's, trying to read something, anything, to let him know that he hadn't misjudged the step they had taken together, that he hadn't assumed things that weren't there.

Trent's mouth curved upwards in an impish smile. "Oh my God, did the word 'serious' just come out of Carlos Sandoval's mouth? I didn't even know you knew the definition," he teased.

Carlos returned the smile with one of his own. "Maybe I haven't had the right incentive until now."

The teasing smile turned tender as Trent brought Carlos' mouth to his own for a soft kiss.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Trent murmured.

Carlos let out a breath he hadn't even been aware of holding and relief turned into a feeling of contentment and happiness, a warm sense of fulfillment that he hadn't even realized was absent. For the first time, he was certain he knew the meaning of love...real, pure, untainted, the kind you could build a lifetime of dreams upon.

The rest of the night was spent talking, touching, discovering, and loving. When they fell asleep at last enfolded in one another's embrace, both knew it was just the first of many.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was a typical Friday night in C.D.'s. Loud country music blared from the jukebox. Couples filled the dance floor, some two stepping, others line-dancing. The din of many voices mingled in laughter and chatter filled the place. Glasses clattered and clinked as the waitresses worked their way through the crowd of bodies to the various tables that littered the sawdust floor.

Carlos sipped the beer he held as his eyes discretely watched his lover in action. The karate instructor was currently hunched over the pool table in the middle of a very intense game with Jimmy Trivette. Carlos smiled because Trivette was effectively getting his butt kicked.

"Yes!!" Trent cried as he sank the six ball into the corner pocket and winning the game.

"What...how..." Trivette grumbled, bewildered. "I had you, I know I did, what happened?"

"Don't you know by now I hate losing?" Trent replied with a grin. "If you don't believe me, just ask Carlos," he added, shooting the police officer a secret smile.

"Hey Carlos," he heard some call to him.

Turning, he saw Walker approaching, his arm securely around Alex's waist.

"Hey Walker, what's up?" Carlos greeted.

"Not much," Walker responded. Pale blue eyes turned from Carlos to watch the rematch pool game that had just started between Trent and Trivette.

"Glutton for punishment isn't he?" Walker asked with a small smile.

"You could say that, this is the third rematch," Carlos responded with a chuckle.

"He'll learn...eventually," Walker declared.

The Texas Ranger's eyes then landed back onto Carlos.

"So, did you ever have a chance for that talk?? he asked casually.

Carlos drew his eyes away from Trent and onto Walker. "Yeah, yeah, I did," he answered.

A hint of a knowing smile turned up the corners of the ranger's mustached mouth. "Any regrets?"

Carlos glanced for a movement at his lover before answering. "Not a one Walker, not a one."

*****THE END*****

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