The hour and a half journey to Ezra's home was conducted in silence. Ezra could feel the weight of John's sneaked glances at him, but chose to ignore them. He could envisage only too easily the traffic accident waiting to happen if he started to talk with his newly 'acquired' companion.

Skirting the edges of Denver he seized the opportunity afforded by a stop light to take a quick look at him.

John's eyes were closed, although the too quick breathing and clenched knuckles betrayed him. Ridiculously long lashes lay on pale, high cheekbones, the lashes as dark as the short hair and the beetle black eyebrows. Those clenched hands were pale too, the fingers fine and slender. He was neatly dressed in dark slacks and blazer, an open neck shirt in soft blue softening the pallor of the almost blue-white skin of his throat.

A horn wrenched him back to the road, and he accelerated away, scowling at the irate driver behind him.

"It occurs to me," he spoke as though picking up an earlier conversation and John jerked, kicking the foot well hard enough to make Ezra wince before he realised where he was.

"Yeah?" John restrained a huge yawn, and Ezra sighed soundlessly.

"It occurs to me," he repeated patiently, "That I should tell you a little about my life if I expect you to fit into it. We will also need a cover story."

John grinned. "Cool! Like an undercover spy." He pulled what he apparently appeared to think was a 'spy' face, eyes slitted, glancing back and forth as though watching a flea jumpathon.

"Not cool." Ezra gritted out. "Not cool at all."

"Sorry," John apologized quietly, and Ezra stole a quick glance of him before indicating right into his street.

"Don't apologise. Look. John, I'm-- damn." He pulled into his parking space in front of his house, and turned the engine off. "Let's take this inside."

John followed him without a word, looking his surroundings with unexpectedly thoughtful eyes.

"What do you do?" he asked.

"Beer?" Ezra pulled one out of the fridge and offered it to him. "No?" John shook his head. "Well, *I* need one." He popped the top and took a long swig, then pulled a face. "I keep this stuff for some friends of mine."

"What I do is the exact problem here." Ezra wandered back out of the kitchen and waved vaguely to a door on the other side of the corridor, "Living room. Dining room. Study. Bathroom on your left." He paused at the foot of the stairs. "I have a couple of problems, you see." He took another gulp of the bitter tasting stuff. "I don't know why anyone drinks this. It's worse than horse piss."

"Because they're trying to avoid their problems?" John asked dryly, and Ezra sent him a piercing look.

"Not as stupid as you pretend. This might just work."

"Thanks. I think." John tugged the bottle out of Ezra's hand and put it on a side table. He then slipped his hand into Ezra's and tugged him into the living room. "Come on, what's so bad about what you do?"

Ezra sat down next to John on the sofa, then leaned forward dropping his head in his hands. "I'm a federal agent."

"Cool, FBI?"

"No, ATF." Ezra snapped. "Everyone always assumes it's FBI. Do you know how many agencies there are who employ federal agents?" John shook his head, "Me neither." His burst of irritation subsided as quickly as it had appeared. "How the hell am I going to explain you to my colleagues? Oh god. Or to Larabee."

"Who's Larabee," John asked innocently.

"Hell on wheels. Trouble on two legs. Terror walking incarnate among us." He threw a glance at the doorway, half expecting his black clad senior agent to be slouched there, fixing him with his piercing gaze. "Or, put another way, my boss."

"Why would he need to know?"

"Because Larabee runs a tight ship, and you're not on the manifest. Damn." He tried to think of a solution to explain his brand new houseboy, and failed. John's hand rubbed slow circles on his back and he unconsciously leaned into the reassuring touch.

"What's the worst he can do? Fire you?"

"No, that would be the most merciful thing. Be grateful you don't know anyone on Team Seven." Ezra shook his head. "When Sartre said hell was other people, he was thinking of Nathan Jackson, Vincent Tanner, Josiah Sanchez, Christopher Larabee and especially Buck Wilmington." He flinched, glancing at the doorway again.

"You expecting someone?"

"Not someone, John. Them. There is a certain inevitability in this uncertain world, that if I dare to malign my cohorts, they will appear to make witless comments which will reduce the others to stitches."

John appeared to be suppressing a grin. "Would it help if I said I wasn't afraid?" He took Ezra's clenched fist and carefully straightened out one finger at a time, stroking around the long slender palm.

"Not in the least -- John, that really is quite distracting."

"My name's JD. And I was wondering something."

Ezra looked doubtfully at him. "What?"

Abruptly John was straddling his lap and smiling at him from inches away. "If this," he pressed a soft kiss to Ezra's lips, "Was more or less distracting than this?" He circled Ezra's palm delicately with one fingernail again.

"I, ah, I--" Ezra swallowed, trying to get some moisture into his mouth.

"Feeling dry?" John asked sympathetically, and licked over Ezra's mouth. "Here. Have some of mine."

"That is a revolti--" Ezra's mouth was filled with tongue as John took full advantage of his open lips. Ezra groaned. It had been a while since he had so much as touched another man with any more than friendship in his heart, and the sensation whipped through him, his cock hardening, his ass tightening, his arms wrapping instinctively around John's waist.

John tasted minty and sweet, and his tongue drifted slowly over his lips and teeth. Ezra licked at him, feeling the warmth spreading from crotch outwards, shudders trembling up his spine until he felt dizzy with heat and need.

"John..."

"Ez..." He lifted his mouth for a moment, then seized it again. "Call me JD..." he whispered. "John sounds like you're about to tell me to go clean my room," he smiled into Ezra's eyes, and Ezra pulled him forward, tugging until they were sprawled together on the leather couch. John -- JD, was warm and solid in his arms.

He shifted rhythmically against him, pushing as close as he could, worming one leg high between JD's thighs. Both of them groaned as his thigh pressed up into the hard flesh at the fork of JD's legs. JD pushed back with his hips, and they lost themselves in the mindless motion. Ezra gasped and pushed up hard as a hand pulled at his shirt, dragging it free of his pants and slipping up to touch the bare skin of his back.

Another touch at his wrist tugged hard at his cuffs and he reached his arms around his lover, swiftly undoing the awkward cuff links. JD twisted until Ezra was beneath him and propped himself up, intently undoing his buttons, licking with delicate laps at the revealed flesh. Ezra cried out, sheer pleasure arching his back up, pushing his cock into the cloth-covered crotch straddling him.

"John..." he moaned.

JD's hands pulled the tail of the shirt out of the front of his pants and then slowly, firmly slid his hands up Ezra's chest, pushing the material aside, dragging hard across his hard nipples and cupping Ezra's shoulders, dragging the shirt off him completely, leaving him bare-chested and gasping for air, staring up at the young man. He smiled slowly, and leaned down to press a breath stealing kiss on Ezra's mouth, then sat up again, grinding his ass against his swollen cock. Ezra moaned, long and helpless.

"You, god, John..."

"JD," he said firmly, and lifted his body away as if to punish Ezra.

Bereft, he grabbed at JD's wrists, "No, come back here, I--"

"Hey." JD pulled his hands away, twisting them out of Ezra's hard grip, "Easy. I'm just taking off my shirt. Figured you might like to check out the merchandise." He smiled mischievously at Ezra, but his words were like cold water in the man's face. He froze.

"JD, we should take this more slowly. I told you, I was quite happy to have you working around the house, sex isn't required."

JD grinned, unfazed. "I know." He scraped a fingernail over Ezra's right tit, then absently flicked it over and over. "Makes you seem even sexier than that hot suit," he leaned down and bit Ezra's left nipple just as he was starting to think that his chest would explode with frustration at the attention lavished on only one tiny portion. His hips jerked and JD settled back again. "Or that *hot* car," he ground his hips into Ezra's pelvis. "You know, coming home, all I could think about was fucking over the hood of the Jag, maybe you spread out bare ass naked, on your back, and me riding up into you." Ezra groaned helplessly at the mental image, and desperately tried to calm his excitement enough that he wouldn't come half dressed, on the words of a man he had met less than three hours previously. "Or," JD went on with a thoughtful pause, "me face down, you fucking me." His back arched, and he pushed his buttocks suggestively against Ezra's cock.

He lifted his hips and scooted back a little, stroking down his lover's flanks and then playing idly with the button at the top of Ezra's pants. "Kinda hot too, the idea that you *own* me," JD's voice dropped on the word, and Ezra's cock spasmed, and he was coming in his thousand dollar Armani pants.

He wasn't entirely sure how long he had been lying naked on the couch, tangled inextricably with his lover who was dropping soft, brief kisses over as much of his shoulder, chest, neck and face as he could reach. It was long enough for his sweat to have welded him painfully to the leather upholstery, he was sure, but he really didn't care.

"You are amazin', darlin'," he said, his voice croaked, and he smiled. "I don't think I've fallen that hard for a long time."

"Yeah?" The kid tilted his head up to meet his eyes for just a fraction of a second. "You liked it then?"

"The only thing I'd've liked better was to take this--take *you*, to my bed, and finish you off in my ass," he blurted.

JD's smile was blinding. "That can be arranged." He shifted minutely and Ezra became aware at a conscious level of the hard length of cock trapped between their bodies. Ezra reddened.

"I'm sorry, darlin', I left you--"

JD blushed and shook his head. "That's um, me feeling better again after messing my pants when you came." Ezra laughed and wrapped his arms warmly around him.

"The recovery time of youth!" he grinned, "Well, we'd better not waste it." He pushed at JD, who rose, and reached a hand to his partner. Ezra took it and groaned at he came away from the leather with an audible tearing sound.

"Ow!"

"God, I'm sorry, are you okay? Let me see?" He was turned around and cool hands ran carefully over his back.

"I'm fine, John, truly I am." He gasped. JD's hands slid over his bare buttocks, then squeezed, pulling him apart, exposing his hole. "Oh dear god."

"You like?"

Ezra turned and seized his hand. "Bedroom. Before we try to consummate this relationship however bizarre, on that vilely painful sofa." He tugged and JD followed him with alacrity up the stairs. "My room." He waved vaguely at the doors in the wall. "Bathroom. Closet. Bed." He pushed JD onto the wide king sized bed and tumbled after him when JD pulled at their still clasped hands.

"Stuff?" JD asked after a long moment spent kissing and wriggling to get under the covers.

"Damn." Ezra lifted his head to look at the bathroom door. "It's in there."

They both eyed the distance between the door and the bed reluctantly.

"I could go?"

"I know where it is. I'll be faster," he refused. He kissed JD's lips hard, then leapt off the bed, ran into the bathroom, slammed open the cabinet, grabbed a tube of lubricant and an unopened packet of condoms, and sprinted back, throwing himself onto the bed. JD laughed and grabbed the lube off him.

"Roll over, babe," he said and pulled at Ezra's hips until he was on his stomach, still trying to pull open the box of condoms. "Ass up." Ezra groaned, and laughed, and complied. The box broke open and foil packets scattered across the pillows. He reached for one, and wailed as JD's tongue licked at his asshole.

"John!" He pushed back against the hard wet muscle exploring his crack, his dick rock hard and all interest in the condoms fled. His breath came faster and faster. JD's hands were gripping his hips, holding him as he tried to pump backwards, and then forwards, desperate for more stimulation as the heated wetness of JD's tongue slid over, around his hole, then finally, finally pressed so hard at his entrance that he breached the muscle, and slid inside. He was vaguely aware of someone babbling like a complete idiot, but couldn't spare the attention to tell them to shut up, utterly riveted as he was on the sensations flooding his ass.

"Condom?"

Ezra moaned. The blissful rimming had stopped. He canted his ass up, begging for more, and was slightly mollified by a finger dragging back and forth over his aching hole. "In, please?"

"In a minute," John's voice promised, and then broke the promise by immediately pressing a blunt finger tip into Ezra's anus. The bed shifted and there was a rustling sound. The finger slid deeper, burning like salt in a wound, feeling unbearably thick and hard in his soft tender ass. "I'm not sure I can do this one handed--" the finger started to slide out and Ezra clamped down with his muscles. "Ow! Hey, ease off, I'm not going anywhere. Okay, one handed it is. But don't blame me if you get pregnant."

"What are you *talking* about?" He was rather proud of getting out a coherent sentence. The finger twisted in his hole and he lost track utterly.

"Talking about? Ezra, my lord and master," the finger withdrew and something impossibly thick settled its tip into his crack, "my owner, my trick, my john, my utter *babe*," and John's cock sank into him, "I'm talking about this."

Ezra's breath caught in his throat, too dry to even draw air into his burning lungs, all his world focused on the burning entry of slick latex sheathed dick up into his eager bottom. JD moved slowly but inexorably deeper, and deeper. And deeper, until it seemed impossible he would ever stop burrowing into Ezra's body. Warm weight settled on his back and he smiled at the press of lips between his shoulder blades. They held still. Ezra's breathing lifting JD on his back, shifting the hard erection minutely inside of him.

"You okay?" JD asked quietly. His hands were smoothing up and down Ezra's flanks. Ezra turned his head, twisted around until he could reach back and pull JD into an awkward, passionate kiss.

"Move," Ezra whispered into his mouth, and shoved up.

They lost themselves in the movement of fucking, thrusting eagerly. Each stroke dragged pleasure searing from the walls of his channel, his tight passage clinging to the cock filling him up until he felt as though he could never feel empty again. His whole body tensed with pleasure, fire burning in his gut.

He barely knew what was happening when JD's cock started moving harder into him, the strokes losing their easy rhythm and ramming home with hard, irregular thrusts. He was too lost in his own orgasm, crying out his lover's name over and over, small gasps that sounded almost like sobs filling the air.

He woke slowly. Light was streaming through the curtains, and he turned his head awkwardly towards his alarm clock. A warm weight was sprawled over his back, and his asshole was stretched around a hard cock. JD was snoring softly against his shoulder, and he shifted his derriere slightly. JD's erection sank deeper inside him and he whimpered. He was going to be astonishingly sore at work today. If JD had stayed in his ass all night, for a clear nine hours, then he was probably not even going to be able to walk, much less sit down.

JD shifted against him, thrusting slowly at first, and then faster and harder. He still wasn't sure if his lover was awake or asleep until JD gasped into his shoulder.

"God, Ez!"

"Good morning, Mr. Dunne," Ezra replied, spoiling the effect with a groan as a particularly well angled thrust sent shudders through his body and straight to his cock. He squeezed lightly in time with JD, until the younger man gulped, breathing erratically, and slammed himself into Ezra, holding nearly still, just tiny jerks of his hips against Ezra's body indicating that he was trying to go deeper as he came.

"Well, Mr. Standish?" JD sounded like he was smiling, and Ezra groaned and buried his face in his pillow.

"Get off me. I am going to be utterly unable to move today, between your importunate organ and your personal sleeping arrangements."

JD stretched slowly, and nibbled at Ezra's shoulder. "Were you planning on going to work today?" he asked idly, drawing little circles on Ezra's palm.

"If you would be so kind as to remove your member from my posterior, yes."

JD shifted a little. His dick was hard enough, and Ezra's ass slick enough, to allow him to push and pull slowly in and out of Ezra's ass.

"You sure?" he said, laughter in his voice. He pushed in firmly, then reached in-between them and carefully eased himself out of Ezra, gripping the condom in place.

"Christ!" Ezra swore. His anus felt as though it was gaping wide and might never close again. He cautiously tensed the muscle and groaned. JD rolled off of him and rubbed a friendly hand over his lower back.

"Probably shouldn't have done that," he observed. "Your back's going to be killing you."

"That is not the only, nor indeed the most vociferous piece of my anatomy complaining about my activities last night." Ezra flopped onto his back and grimaced as his bottom hit the mattress. "Oh, this is *not* going to be pleasant."

"Sorry, Ez." JD's hand stroked over his belly, and he curled up close. He tucked his head onto Ezra's shoulder, and added, "Could you call in sick?"

"My dear man, I would not be excused for anything less than calling in dead. And I would be expected to produce a certificate to that effect."

"Your boss sounds like a real hardass."

"You have no idea," Ezra agreed fervently. He glanced at the clock. "And I have approximately an hour to get up and out of the house if I am to get in before he starts calling, and you answer the phone, and I have to answer questions that I have, at present, not the smallest inkling how to address."

"Do you always use twenty words when two would do?" JD's hand circled lightly around his belly button, first clockwise, then anticlockwise, back and forth. Ezra shrugged.

"Why 'JD'?"

"Because it's what I'm used to. Because there are enough people called John out there, and I hate sounding like a restroom."

Ezra grinned. "Why Ez?"

"Because I felt like it. Why the twenty questions?"

"Think about it." JD nodded silently.

"You really got to get up?"

"Regrettably I do." They kissed, slow and soft and sloppy. "I wish I could remain, but I may not."

"Go on. I'm not going anywhere." Ezra eased out of the bed, and limped over to the bathroom. He grimaced at the disarray he found, the cabinet door was wide open and a dozen packets had fallen out in his frantic search for protection. Then he grinned. Hugely.

He turned on the shower and washed himself quickly but very carefully, particularly around certain areas. When he emerged he peeked around the door but John had disappeared from the bed. He sighed and started shaving, only to be surprised by a swat on his bottom as his lover dived past him into the shower.

"I was getting my stuff," JD called. "This is *nifty*," he added as the water started drumming down onto his back and shoulders. "Maybe we could save water next time..."

Ezra's grin broke into laughter. "I very much doubt that Adams County will appreciate our water conservation efforts." He chuckled again and had to pause shaving, lifting the straight edge away from his skin. He resumed and was quickly done. "Towels on the heated rack to the left as you come out," he advised JD, "I'm getting dressed, if you're not out by the time I'm done, come down for breakfast."

"Sure!" JD's voice echoed in the bathroom, and Ezra smiled again.

He dressed quickly and efficiently. Fine linen shirt, the suit made for him by Anderson and Shepard two years ago, he smoothed the material down, it was still as elegant as though it had just emerged from the tiny old-fashioned London shop.

Socks, shoes. He was examining ties, trying to decide on one when arms wrapped around his neck and a hand pointed to one in soft greens and blues.

"That one," JD said, and kissed his nape before releasing him.

Ezra pulled it out. It would do as well as most. "Why?" he asked as he knotted it expertly. He turned to face John--JD, and met his assessing look with one of his own.

"I thought so." JD stroked a finger down it and smiled. "I'll let you think about it."

Ezra smiled again, and after a moment's hesitation headed for the door, and breakfast. "If you want a bathrobe," he called over his shoulder, "there is one on the back of the bathroom door."

"Nah. I've got some cas stuff I can wear. Don't eat everything before I get there."

Ezra hurried down the stairs. Breakfast, toast and a glass of orange juice, a cup of percolated coffee was rapidly ready, and he took the tray out onto the deck, leaving the door open so JD could find him. He eased into the cushioned chair and stifled a grunt of discomfort. He was not limping, mostly by force of will, but sitting was acutely uncomfortable. He shifted, rocking a little, and closed his eyes, enjoying the reminder.

"Is it that bad?"

The unexpected voice startled him. "No. No, I'm fine."

"Uh-huh. Sure."

Ezra reddened, and admitted, "I am somewhat uncomfortable, however, it is a pain I acutely enjoyed the getting of. Je ne regrette rien." JD brushed a kiss on his hair and sat on the wooden floor at Ezra's feet.

"It was really good," JD peeked shyly up through those ridiculously long lashes and Ezra smiled.

"Extremely good," he agreed, sipping at the coffee. He took in the contents of JD's hands. "What the hell are you eating?"

"You had some pop-tarts in the cupboard, and Nesquick. Doesn't taste the same with two percent, but it's pretty good." He took a bite of the cold pastry and washed it down with a huge gulp of chocolate milk.

"Ah. You found Mr. Tanner's stash of junk food."

JD was about to take another bite but stopped for the briefest moment before continuing.

"Mr. Tanner?"

"Vincent or 'Vin' Tanner. One of my colleagues, or possibly more accurately, cohorts." He regarded JD thoughtfully, and added, "Mr. Tanner occasionally stays with me when he wishes to get out of the city, particularly if he is injured or Mr. Larabee is unable to accommodate him."

"Ah." JD visibly relaxed. He took another bite and chewed slowly. "I was wondering, um, you don't, like, have a boyfriend or something do you?"

"No. Distinctly not." He drained the orange juice and lowered the tray to the ground. "My profession is not so tolerant that I am willing to subject myself to the daily exposure of my tastes. Nor," he added more softly, "nor so safe that others are inclined to consider me an eligible choice of partner."

"Huh?"

"Being homosexual in Colorado isn't such a great time, kid," he patted JD's shoulder and rose.

"That's what you meant about cover stories." JD followed him in, trailing crumbs as he finished the last few bites of the pop-tart, his voice somewhat muffled.

"Indeed." He glanced at his watch. "And I do not have time to do this properly now."

"I'll be fine."

Ezra sighed. "The cleaner comes at ten. I will leave a note mentioning you on the kitchen counter. If anyone rings the phone, let it ring. You should have cell phone coverage here."

"If I had a cell phone."

"I thought students--"

JD smiled without humor. "Not poor students with major medical bills."

Ezra hesitated. "I will get you a phone. No," he said firmly at the mutinous look on JD's face, "if you are to be my companion for the next six months I must be able to get hold of you at any time. My job is deeply unpredictable, and I must be certain that I can get in touch with you if necessary."

"Do you get injured a lot, Ez?" JD's voice was worried, and Ezra cupped his cheek in his palm.

"That's not what I meant at all," he said mendaciously. The skeptical look on JD's face said he wasn't buying it.

"Whatever." JD shrugged, looking like he regretted showing any concern.

Ezra found paper and a pen and wrote a brief note, and tucked it into an envelope. "My cleaner's name is Mrs. Flores."

He scooped up his car and house keys. "There's a computer in the downstairs study; don't mess around with the files called 'work'. Keys." He tossed a set to him. "Don't mess around with the palomino in the fourth stall. You can ride the grey or the bay if you want. If anyone else comes here, get out. I should be home by eight."

He slung a coat over his shoulder and headed for the front door. "I'll see you later." He kissed him; it was meant to be quick but JD had other ideas. He wrapped his arms around Ezra and deepened the kiss, until Ezra's knees buckled.

He finally released him, and grinned with satisfaction into Ezra's dazed eyes. "Take care," was all he said, and stepped back.

"Have," Ezra swallowed and loosened his tie. "Have a good day."

He turned on his heel and fled for the Jag.

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Disclaimer: I don't own any of the fandoms listed herein. I am certainly making no money off of these creative fan tributes to a wonderful, fun show.