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Christmas in Dixie	By : roxyfic Category: 1 through F > Fast And The Furious, The > Male/Male Views: 16547 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Fast and the Furious, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Christmas in Dixie
- 2-2
- 3-3b
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-10
- 11-11
- 12-12
- 13-13
- 11
- 12
- 13
Christmas in Dixie

Part Twelve
It was much later, long after everyone else had gone to bed, that Brian and Dom found themselves alone in the study. Christmas Eve tradition in the O'Connor household was that the decorations were left on all night. As a result, the twinkling lights that encased the window cheerfully lit the darkened room.

"I got you something," Brian said as he pressed against Dom's back. "I know we agreed not to give each other anything, but I just couldn't resist."

"What?" Dom asked curiously.

"It's all wrapped up and under the tree," Brian answered, then sensuously slid his hand over Dom's chest. "Don't you think you should give me something in return?" he asked as he allowed his hand to flatten over Dom's belly. He pressed his palm over Dom's navel and began move his hand in a circular motion.

"I already said no," Dom growled as he pushed Brian's hand away.

"Oh, come on, Dom," Brian wheedled. "Give it up."

"Not here. Not now."

"Do you know how many times when I was getting lectured as a kid I dreamed about fucking on Dad's desk? Please, Dom. Just this once?" Brian begged. "Come on, make a guy's Christmas wish come true."

"Number one, I have too much respect for your father. Number two, we'd have a hard time cleaning up afterward -- gotta go right past your parents bedroom to get to the bathroom. Number three, and most important of all, with the amount of noise that you make, we'd have whole house awake."

"Fuck, Dom," Brian said with a smirk as he shoved the bigger man toward the desk. "Number one, Dad'll never know we did it on his desk. Number two, I got the cleanup covered." He leaned over and held up a blue box.

Dom snorted as he twisted around in Brian's arms. "You stole Jillian's babywipes?" he asked incredulously.

Brian grinned hugely. "They're guaranteed to be gentle on delicate behinds."

Dom groaned at Brian's wit, then asked, "What about number three? How you gonna keep from screaming your fool head off when you come?"

This time the object that Brian held up wiped the smile right off Dom's face. It was the ball gag that Eddy had used on him.

"Bri ---?"

"It's okay, Dom," Brian said softly and began to stroke the exposed flesh of his partner's arm. "I want this so bad and the gag is nothing, we won't even buckle it. You'll see." He started working the button of Dom's pants loose with one hand. "And besides, any noise that we make, we can blame on Santa," Brian said as he opened his mouth and with his free hand, slipped the rubber ball behind his teeth.

Dom looked into Brian's begging eyes and against his will he leaned into Brian's knowing hand. Dom felt his groin tighten and clench at Brian's touch. Blue eyes sparkled with triumph as Brian gave a few more expert pumps of his fist then twisted away. He swung around so that he was facing his father's desk, his back to Dom. With a stripper's sense of drama, he undid his loose jeans and began to ease them slowly down his silken hips.

Dom growled at the teasing display. As if the sight of Brian's willing body wasn't enough, the Christmas lights around the study window had to make him even more tempting. The glimmering lights reflected off the desktop and illuminated his pale flesh in a myriad of colors. God, he's beautiful, was all Dom could think as he took in the sight of Brian's gilded hair and exposed back. Long and lean, well-muscled and perfectly defined, Brian was a living sculpture of masculine beauty.

There was no way Dom could resist him -- but he should, he knew he should. Dom was torn in an agony of indecision. Brian's family, especially his dad, had accepted him, embraced him, and he just didn't feel right about taking --

Dom pressed close and pushed Brian's hands away, placing them on the desk. Brian moaned in victory as he stretched forward, leaning his torso down onto the polished surface of the desktop. The tempting valley of Brian's spine called to Dom, and he answered by pressing his face reverently into the hollow of his lover's lower back. As he kissed Brian's skin, as he ran his tongue up and down the smooth skin, he wondered how a man could taste like sunshine the way Brian always did.

Dom kissed his way upward to that special spot between the points of Brian's shoulder blades and ducked his head, letting the rough texture of his bristled scalp tickle Brian's flesh. As expected, Brian began to quiver and jerk beneath Dom's weight. His desperate moans were low, nearly cut off by the gag and Dom chuckled. Maybe the gag wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Dom slid his face upward and sucked gently on the lobe of Brian's ear. Brian twisted his head to give better access and began to press his hips upward and backward, demanding attention.

Dom released Brian's ear so that he could shove Brian's pants all the way down to the floor. Gently, he guided the slender feet out and pushed the balled up jeans away. He wrapped his big, rough hands around Brian's ankles and, with a powerful jerk, pulled them apart. Brian bucked, and his sweat-dampened flesh made a squeaking noise against the polished top of the desk.

Dom rose gracefully and pressed one of his powerful thighs between Brian's spread legs. He molded his hands around the cheeks of Brian's ass, squeezing the firm globes, delighting in the softness of the flesh and the solid feel of muscle underneath. He'd always found the sleek strength of Brian unbearably erotic.

Brian whimpered behind the gag and Dom knew that his partner was ready. It never took much to get Brian prepared, the man was by nature a perfect and pushy bottom.

Dom smiled as he bent his head and used his teeth to nip sharply at the curve where ass blended into thigh. Brian jerked upright in surprise and Dom took the opportunity to twist his lover around, grasp him by the hips, and toss him into a sitting position on the desk. Brian blinked and braced his arms behind him as Dom placed one large hand on each of Brian's knees, spreading his thighs wide.

"Ain't gonna take you on your dad's desk, Bri," Dom said gruffly. "But I am gonna give you a real nice Christmas present."

And with that Dom lowered his head and used his mouth for other things.

~*~
"Gimme," Special Agent Ormond slurred as he lunged, carelessly rearranging the photos and reports that covered the top of his desk.

Bilkins held the bottle high, effortlessly keeping it out of Ormond's hands. "Don't you think you've had enough?" he asked as he glanced around at the nearly deserted FBI offices.

"Nope. Not passed out yet." Ormond crooked the fingers on his outstretched hand. "Come on. Give it over."

Bilkins handed the bottle of amber liquid to Ormond and sighed as his partner began taking swigs directly from the bottle.

"Ahhh," Ormond moaned in pleasure. "Burns nice. Gonna burn their faces--" He waved his arm over the pictures of their two fallen friends. "--right outta my brain."

"Burn your brain ... period," Bilkins said, worry clear in his tone. "Don't you need to get home to your kids?"

Ormond took another swig before answering. "No. They're with their mom and her new squeeze. Spending Christmas with him -- not me." Ormond stared morosely down at his desk; he'd never gotten over the divorce. "They're doing the whole *family* thing. Opening presents at the crack a' dawn, and then ... she wants to show her new family off. Draggin' them to church for morning service." Bilkins knew his partner was close to collapse when the gray-haired man began to giggle. "Hey, Billy! You think they might run into Jones at St. Joe's? Wouldn't that be a hoot? Cold bitch and colder bastard." Ormond's face twisted in thought "You know Dev Jones -- he's always gotta put on the good show -- sit in the front pew on Christmas day as if he were a human being. God must not mind that murderous bastard showing up, or else He'd strike the son-of-a-bitch with a bolt of lightning or something." Ormond scowled darkly. "Instead Jones gets ... He gets off! Fuckin' off! Kills our agents and gets off scot-free," Ormond hissed as he raised the bottle to his lips.

As Ormond began to steadily finish the bottle, Bilkins relaxed back in his chair and looked out into the Los Angeles' night.

Jones did go to St. Joseph's every Christmas and put on a show; it was his annual tradition. The murderous racketeer would show up on the steps of the old stone cathedral, a somber dressed Eddy trailing him, and strut through the main doors. It was Jones' way of thumbing his nose at all his enemies -- daring them to take a shot at him -- proving that he could go where and when he pleased. Nothing could touch him. Nothing could stop him.

And in his heart, Bilkins knew it was true.

With the tips of his fingers, he pushed the photos aside. These were all that remained of his two murdered agents. Richard Taggert, single, just twenty-five years old, grinned at the camera. He'd been a good kid, had showed a lot of potential. Bilkins dropped his photo and picked up one of Morgan Taylor. The balding, slightly over-weight man had his arm draped over his wife's shoulders while their five children were grouped around them.

The men were dead now. Their heads blown off, their corpses dropped down into the wet depths of a stagnant well. And there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do about it now. They couldn't even put the man responsible for the murders behind bars.

Devlin Jones was above the law. Hadn't the FBI just spent more than a year putting together a case? Bilkins looked down at all the documents, all the lab results, all the affidavits that made up the investigation. It should have been airtight -- instead it had all fallen apart. Maybe the man really had made a deal with the Devil. Maybe Jones *was* the Devil.

~*~

Brian couldn't think.

All he could do was feel. The hot, wet depths of Dom's mouth. The suction. Christ was his skin peeling off? God. He was dying. Fuck, this is so good! Dom's tongue is so rough, so fucking talented. The bristles of his shaven head scraping against his belly, abrading his inner thighs. Callused hands pulling his hips; blunt fingers digging into his cheeks, spreading them, delving within.

Dom was devouring him, swallowing him whole.

Brian locked his ankles around Dom's broad back, grabbed for Dom's skull, and hung on for dear life as Dom wrung him dry.
~*~
- 11
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Christmas in Dixie