Not Undercover Anymore
Disclaimer: I don't own them, or the show they rode in on. I wrote this for fun, and no profit is made from it.
Archive: Starwinder's, You Want Fries With That?, and The All-Ezra FanFic Archive --- all others, please ask.
Summary: Things don't go well for Ezra when the rest of the team finds out about his affair with Chris.
Warnings: Slash content, unpleasant moments, a tad bitter, some characters may speak with unfamiliar 'voice'
Author's Note: While there is no outright violence, some readers may find this uncomfortable. I decided to explore what would happen if the rest of the seven were NOT accepting of a male/male relationship among them. Couldn't quite end it badly, not my style --- but it doesn't resolve as well as one might hope. Unbetaed, hopefully not unbearable.
Completed: 29 February 2004
Feedback: email@example.com welcomes comments
Ezra was quite tired of being teased, even taunted, by the rest of the team. They all had the same attitude. They treated him as if he was Larabee's kept partner. And, he used the word 'partner' charitably. He cringed to think what terms they might use for him in their conversations when he was not present. It wasn't as if he was any different than before they found out. Rubbing vigorously at the back presented, he thought about his problem. And it really was just HIS problem.
Chris squirmed around in the narrow shower cubicle so that he could face Ezra and leaned back on his fingertips, arching his back slightly to encourage some achingly necessary touches that had so far been withheld. Ezra smiled affectionately as he ducked his head into the shower stream to place a wet, warm kiss on Chris' solar plexus. Then he looked down at the semi-hard member nudging his hip. With deft fingers, he cupped the heavy ball sac and thick shaft, eliciting a moan and further wriggle from Chris.
"This must be thoroughly cleaned, my sweet, before we play."
"God, Ezra!" Chris' eyes were tightly closed and his head rolled restlessly from side to side against the shower wall behind them.
Ezra grinned and lowered his head to lap at the hard pebbly nipple closest to him as Chris twisted. He felt the sharp shock run through his lover's thin, long body. I really need to get some more weight on his bones, Ezra thought, momentarily distracted by a permanent worry. A swift buck of hips and thrusting need brought him back to the present and his lover's very obvious and growing distress. "Easy, love, nearly done." Ezra grabbed a soap bar and gently attacked the remaining unsoaped surfaces. The foamy lather smelled faintly of fresh spices - and Chris.
"Alright, rinse time." He let his fingers glide up the flanks, ribs, and then tug lightly at the shoulders, bringing Chris away from the wall and fully under the water's fall. Incidently, this brought the blond close to his body as well.
Larabee, who'd impatiently submitted to the thorough cleansing and teasing fingers, flattened his square hands on Ezra's smooth, narrow hips. He wanted to drag the man tight against him but he knew that would not get him any satisfaction because Ezra would not like it and only squirm free. So, with a deep, damp breath, Chris reined in his rampant passion and waited, nearly docile beneath the water and the hands of his beloved.
Ezra could feel the tension in his partner and released a little moan of his own. It was all the signal Chris needed, he knew. Those restlessly passive hands became possessive clamps, pulling him tight against Larabee's long body. Ezra arched up now and slid his arms around the strong shoulders and neck, extending his reach with raised toes and stretched frame so that he could meet Chris' lips.
The kiss wasn't deep and the water was beginning to run cooler as the hot ran out, but the kiss was enough to stir both men. With a growl of hunger for his lover, Ezra flipped the water lever off, leaving them standing there with water sheeting off their bodies as the slickness of the draining water created a suction that sealed their lengths together.
Experimentally, Ezra dropped down to flat feet and bounced back up to toes, his skin rubbing tightly against Chris everywhere they touched from knee, to thigh, to hips and stomachs, ribcages actually bumping as the extended torsos wash-boarded roughly.
"Ezra-" Chris groaned.
Ezra grinned as he buried his face against Chris' throat, sucking the column hungrily.
Larabee knew he wouldn't last long enough for them to leave the shower and get to the bed so he thrust against Ezra's hip again, his pole feeling the arousing friction of Ezra's pubic hair, wiry and curly. "Now?"
Ezra bit the skin he'd been nursing on Chris' neck. Through his teeth and tongue he managed to grunt an affirmative noise. It was all Larabee needed.
Chris caught the southerner under his arms and lifted him up and flat against a wall of the shower, pressing his legs between Ezra's. He was breathless as he felt Ezra open for him. He caved his abdomen enough, hips tilting, to get his soap-slicked dick under Ezra and between those marvelously satiny thighs. He found Ezra's hole, still soapy and loose from his earlier ministrations - when it had been his turn to clean Ezra. He grinned when he felt Ezra half-climb up him in an effort to help position them for Chris' entry. Then Ezra simply relaxed, his body sliding down Chris' and dropping directly on to Larabee's pole. With grunts of pure pleasure, both men sucked in their gasping breaths as they joined so primally. And then Ezra was riding him, using those wonderfully impressive shoulder and arm muscles to pump himself up and down Chris' body. All Chris had to do was stand there, legs stiff, back braced as he held them both up and enjoyed the compression and extension of his engorged cock as it was sheathed and then emerged repeatedly from Ezra's tight hot hole.
They had reached the point in their loving that they could make this moment last for a very long time. Both men savored their immediacy and intimacy, eyes finally meeting to jointly agree on the moment of release. The signal was simply a sharpening of green and hazel eyes, an emotional bonding that thrummed with the power of their mutual orgasms. Orgasms that flowed effortlessly and with restrained, channeled power as they came, Chris deep inside of Ezra, Ezra coating their pressed bellies. The moment was sustained in two bowed arches of exquisite torture as their muscles held and trembled. Then, it was over. Ezra slumped down, Chris wobbling against him. They supported each other, equally silly, foolish grins exchanged. Washcloths appearing and swiping away their excesses. It was time to go to work.
Chris climbed out of the shower first, being nearest the panel door. So, he didn't see the look fade on Ezra's face to be replaced, for one short moment, by a look of resignation at the returning thoughts of their teammates. And the comments that always followed their arrival at work. Ezra dropped the thoughts so that his face emptied and filled himself with thoughts of the breakfast he'd make first for Chris, tempt that concave tummy into growing just a bit. A whimsical small grin replaced the sad grimness, just as Chris turned back to steal a final pre-dressing kiss.
A lovely morning, Chris thought happily.
Buck sniffed the air loudly as Ezra trailed into the office behind Chris. Larabee strode through the bullpen area of Team 7 and on into his office as team leader. Ezra wasn't so fortunate. The undercover operative might spend days, weeks, even months away from the rest of the team and this building, but between cases, he had to show his face. Living with Chris, he could no longer even delay things by coming in a bit later.
"Hoo-eee!" Buck flashed a lewd smile across the room at young Dunne who had been flipping through a journal when Standish entered behind Chris. JD raised his head up, smirking when he caught sight of Buck - and his target - as the surveillance expert continued, "smells kinda strong this morning."
Nathan Jackson, standing in the entrance to the break room with a cup of coffee in his hand, shook his head. "Least you could do is take a shower afterwards, Standish. We don't need raunchy in here."
Ezra's face had gone pale at the pointed, explicit remarks. His shoulders rose despite his intent to remain placid, and he stared at his office door, walking rapidly towards it. Josiah Sanchez rose up into his path, unexpectedly, from an aisle desk. "Son, you should rethink this - this - " Sanchez paused, unable to come up with a suitable term.
Standish ducked aside and slipped past Josiah, making no reply. What was there to say? He needed to be out on a case again and soon. Unfortunately, none were scheduled anytime soon and he wasn't sure how much longer the rest of the team would refrain from their baiting when Chris could hear it. When that happened, he swallowed miserably, he'd lose Chris. Of that he was certain. The others just hadn't figured that out yet, but he had.
Vin was tapping at his keyboard when Ezra entered their joint office. Blue eyes darkened in anger, slitting down as Tanner clicked save on the computer and stood abruptly. "I need a new office. Gonna go talk to Chris."
Ezra's heart dropped. He sank into his own chair, not bothering to remove his overcoat. It was likely that he would not be staying long enough to make removing it worthwhile. He extended his wrist to stare at his watch, waiting. It seemed that time had run out. He lowered his arm and closed his eyes.
Two weeks ago, the team had been a cheerful, relaxed group, celebrating their closure of the Patterson and Hawkes case. No one had been hurt. Ezra had come close, being held hostage during the final bust and shootout, but was retrieved unharmed by Team 8 when the combined forces closed in on the baddies.
Tonight, Team 7 was celebrating! Everyone knew that there was always another case, another time to face off with the bad elements, but for now, they could relax and remind each other that they had survived and were whole.
Ezra had been undercover for weeks, only emerging to contact the team through Vin one afternoon a week at a local gym. All the rest of the day after the bust that morning, the team had worked to get out their reports. Larabee insisted that they be finished so that no one would face more work the next day - and he'd managed to get Orrin Travis to okay a day's leave for all, which meant, a long weekend since the bust happened on Thursday.
Chris had called Ezra into his office for a private conference right after they all got back to the office following the shootout. Standish had emerged nearly an hour later, looking flushed and sweaty. No one thought anything of it. Chris could be tough on this team, but it was part of what made them so good.
It wasn't until that night, at Inez's place, that it happened. Ezra had wandered back from the men's room, looking tired. Buck had stretched out his long frame during Ezra's absence, and taken over Ezra's part of the padded seat bench at the Seven's table. Standish stood, hesitating for a moment, when Chris Larabee reached up and dragged the smaller man down beside him.
Ezra could still remember the feel of Chris' arm landing heavily across his shoulders, pulling him in close. No one else said anything at first. They all knew that Chris had been drinking heavily, more so than anyone. He sometimes said or did some pretty outrageous things when drunk. The men quieted a bit and waited, seeing if Ezra would need rescuing.
Chris, ignoring the rest, had nuzzled into Ezra's neck, his free hand capturing the undercover agent's hands on the table. Ezra's wide green eyes grew wider, seeing their teammates studying them silently now. He should have fought off Larabee, he thought now, it would have been simpler. Once Chris was sober again, he'd have agreed it was the smart thing to do. But Ezra had been tired. And he'd been proud that his long time lover was outing them to their friends. It showed how much Chris loved him.
Ezra's brow furrowed in pain at the memory. He remembered how Buck had hauled at Chris' shoulder, trying to wrench him off Ezra.
"Lemme go, Buck!" Larabee had a way of intense bellowing that was loud but didn't carry far when he wanted to target someone. He followed this up with a savage jerk, freeing himself. He turned back then to Ezra. "Ez? Can't wait too much longer." Then Chris had wrapped his other arm around the southerner and kissed him soundly. In front of the team.
JD had stood abruptly, kicking out his chair behind him. Jackson rose with lanky grace, leaned over and righted JD's chair, then put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. Sanchez stretched out one long arm and tried to pry Chris back off of Ezra. "Chris, let him be."
"No!" The blond shrugged away the grasping fingers of the big profiler and staggered to his feet, pulling the southerner up with him. He'd released Ezra, only to put both hands gently on the sides' of the smaller man's face and gently stroke him. "Ez, let's go home." The tone was almost pleading.
Now, in retrospect, Ezra suspected it was that as much as anything that doomed him with his former friends. Chris' tone had made it sound like Ezra was in charge. Oh, so far from the truth. But, even if it had been - well, it didn't matter. Not one of them had accepted the pairing.
Vin, who'd been staring in confusion at the scene, had barked out, "Larabee! What the fuck are you doing?"
Chris had swung free of Ezra, nearly losing his balance until Standish caught his arm to right him. Bringing one hand down on top of Ezra's supporting hand, Chris had stared down his best friend. "I'm trying to get Ezra home to my bed sometime tonight." The impatient answer left Ezra flushing furiously, and the rest pulling back, standing, faces going from puzzled to shocked.
Ezra remembered whispering savagely into Chris' nearest ear, "CHRIS! Stop this!"
But Larabee was an alpha male and wanted his mate, now. "Not gonna, Ez." He'd tugged the smaller man after him, pulling him out of the group and away from the table. Chris had gently shoved Ezra toward the door with the admonishment, "Get your coat, Ez, I need you. I'll meet you in my truck."
Then Chris had turned toward the remaining members of the team and tossed a handful of bills on the table. "Me and Ez are attending a private party. You boys have fun now." And he'd turned away, his dark black leather duster flaring out behind him as he stalked out the door after Standish. Ezra, who'd watched the final play from the door of the saloon, had retreated ahead of his lover.
That night, they'd made incredible, mad, passionate love. Their reunion had been fierce.
The next morning, over coffee Chris told Ezra that he remembered what he'd done but wasn't worried. "They're our friends. It'll be alright, you'll see."
Ezra hadn't been so sure, but he didn't want to lose Chris so he'd only nodded. Later, when he'd walked over to the saloon from the federal building to retrieve his Jag, he'd found it sodden with streamers of dank toilet paper. A message from the team. He'd borrowed a broom from Inez's morning cleanup crew and swiped the worst of the mess off, then driven the Jag to a car wash. He didn't mention it to anyone. Chris never knew.
Now, it seemed that the others had decided that he was to blame and that Chris was his victim. Ezra pinched his nose and wondered how much more time he had. Not much, he figured.
The slamming of a door and the crash of broken glass told him that time was up.
Jumping to his feet, Ezra yanked open his office door and looked toward Chris'. Vin Tanner stood just outside it, facing off with Larabee, the rebounding office door hanging from one hinge, the door's frosted glass glittering up from the floor.
It was a tense and silent tableau. The other men in the room were slowly rising to their feet, then moving in unison to join Tanner. Still no one spoke.
Ezra sagged against the doorframe to his office and watched. There was nothing left to say. He hugged himself unconsciously.
Chris was furious. When Vin came into his office and said he had to talk with him, Larabee had nodded to a chair, unsuspecting. When Tanner began talking trash about Ezra, about Ezra conning Larabee, trapping him, using him, Chris had gone ballistic.
"NO one talks about Ezra that way, Tanner. No one." He'd spoken in a harsh whisper, knowing that if he tried to talk normally, that he'd be screaming.
"Cowboy, he's using us." Vin tried again, desperate to get through to his friend.
"No, he's not." Chris stood. "He's -" Chris suddenly wasn't sure what to call the man he loved, had been loving, for months now.
"He's no good."
And just like that, whatever bond that had existed between Tanner and him dissolved, disintegrated, crushed beneath the callous, cruel words. Chris felt the loss but anger was stronger. "Get out."
Vin could read the coldness, feel the distinct break in their unique friendship. All he wanted to do was help his friend. Feeling desolate, he turned away, standing and walking out of the office only to hear the door behind him slam with such final force that it shattered its glass and bounced open again. He staggered from the violence at his back, turning to face it.
That was how Ezra found them when he surged out the door to his office. Then Chris had looked around the large workroom, met the eyes of each of his men, read them. And suddenly all the little signs from Ezra, these last two weeks came into focus.
He spun on his heel and retreated for a moment, long enough to grab his coat, then was back at his ruined door. No one had moved, no one had spoken. "If you can't handle us, Ezra and me, being together, put your resignations on my desk before you leave tonight." His eyes once more moved from man to man, meeting each one's eyes, challenging them.
"Chris, no!" Ezra's soft voice was sad.
The blond stood tall, facing off the others for another moment, then reached out a hand imperiously, "Ezra."
And Standish came to him. How could he not? When their hands touched, Chris' enfolded the smaller hand in his gently. Somehow, Ezra had expected the violence to move over on to them as well. Surprised, he looked up into Chris' face.
"Come on, love, we're going. Give these boys time to think about things." He drew the southerner to him, tucking the captured hand into his arm. Chris raised his head, once he's secured Ezra to his side, and led them out, never looking left or right as they walked. Ezra kept his eyes on the floor feeling guilty but not knowing for what.
They'd gone directly up to the top floor, where Chris led his lover into Orrin Travis' office. The door had closed behind the men and stayed that way for nearly two hours. When they came out, both men looked relieved and calm.
The secretary later reported to Buck that DA Travis had given her two badges and several weapons to put in safe storage. Indefinitely. And then instructed her to start recruitment procedures for a new undercover.
Larabee did not return the next day. Standish didn't return. Neither answered phone calls from the office or the team cell phones.
It was a somber group of five men that met in the conference room later that next afternoon with DA Travis. He let his eyes travel the group, surprised and disappointed at the open bigotry that had torn apart their team. Ezra had defended the men. Chris was ready to move on. Orrin wanted to try salvage. He'd managed to convince Larabee to take off some time with Ezra and let Travis deal with the rest of Team 7.
He cleared his throat and tipped his chin up, speaking gruffly. "Larabee and Standish are on leave as of this morning. Since they are private partners, I am giving them family leave time to each be with their significant other."
No one spoke, but several heads raised, bodies shifted, hands twisted into fists. Travis waited them out. When the stirring stopped, when the silence returned, he spoke again. "I've known about them for several months. They came to me almost as soon as they committed to each other."
Buck stood abruptly. "No! I don't believe it!"
"Mr. Wilmington, be seated." Travis' firm tone had the tall man dropping back down to his chair, a defeated slump to his shoulders. "I questioned them both together and apart, very closely. They convinced me of their - sincerity and devotion to each other." He leaned back, "And, of their dedication to their jobs."
Tanner climbed to his feet like an old man and wandered slowly over to the bank of windows, stopping there to stare outside. Travis decided to leave him to it and plowed ahead, "I put both of them on probation for two months. Oversaw everything they did. I wanted to ensure that their - connection - did not interfere with their job performances or put any of you in jeopardy."
Nathan interrupted, "I thought a spouse couldn't be a supervisor of the other?"
"They are not married, Mr. Jackson," Travis smiled briefly, "Though if they could be, I suspect they would. So, with the unique nature of their situation, and the success of this team," here he paused to glower at the men in front of him, "I decided to let them try it."
"The Gonzalez case." Josiah sat back and steepled his fingers.
JD nodded quickly, tallying on his fingers, "And the Hoskins bust, and the Patterson and Hawkes case." His words slowed then as he, they all, realized that the last case had had Ezra under for a long, long time.
"Christ." Buck sat forward, his head hitting the table in front of him with a thud that made the other men wince. Josiah laid a steadying hand on his shoulder.
Vin turned away from his window retreat and faced the rest of the team. "We sure shit on them, didn't we?" the regret in his voice tangible.
"Thought it was all Ezra's doing," Nathan wiped at his face.
Travis folded his arms across his chest. "They are in love, gentlemen. They convinced an old curmudgeon like me of that fact, I am surprised they couldn't convince you."
"Old Chris was a might impatient after that last bust," Buck began.
"And he's never been known for his ability to wait," added Nathan shaking his head at the memory.
"Or his diplomatic skills," finished Josiah with a faint smile.
"The big question now, gentlemen, is - can you work with them? Will you work with them again?" Travis held up a hand when several of them began to speak at once. "Think carefully. Your words and actions so far were enough to drive them away."
JD blushed and blurted out, "That was when we thought Chris just was lonely and that Ezra took advantage."
Travis leaned forward onto his elbows on the long table. When no one else spoke up, he sighed and grimaced at the bad taste in his mouth. It had taken him a long time to trust the southern agent but the man had more than proved himself. It seemed that his teammates were not quite so ready to bestow that same trust. He wondered if he could save this team. "You have two weeks. You will be on research and training only. We will meet again, individually. You will each tell me whether or not you want to continue with Larabee and Standish on a team." He raised a finger in warning. "Understand this. It is not either or, it is both or not at all. If any of you opt out, positions on other teams will be found, though not necessarily here in Denver."
"So we don't go along with this, we lose our homes and jobs?" Nathan sounded bitter, sullen.
Travis met the angry brown eyes with his own faded ones. "You'll still have jobs." He looked down at his hands, then up again. "And, Chris told me that if even one of you can't work with them, that they will be the ones leaving." He stood up, adding, "Ezra agreed."
"How come they never told us?" JD asked plaintively to the room at large as Travis began to move toward the door.
"Look at what has happened." Travis turned at the door.
"That ain't fair Director." Buck bounded to his feet. "We got smacked in the face with it in a bar, after we'd all had a bit too much to drink."
"Bucklin, it's the two weeks since then that's the problem," Vin said sadly from across the room.
Travis didn't wait to hear an answer to that. He left the room, closing the door behind him quietly. Despite the comments of the men, he'd seen a change during the meeting. A lightening of the atmosphere, a sense of guilt rather than indignation and resentment such as he'd faced when he first entered.
Maybe Team 7 had a chance after all.
"Who was that?" Ezra asked drowsily from behind Chris' shoulder.
Larabee snapped shut his cell phone and dropped it on the bedside stand, then twisted around to capture Ezra's face with both hands and plant a series of small kisses all over the open, sweet countenance. God, how I love this man. "Travis. Thinks there's hope for the team after all."
Ezra caught the bold hands holding his face and pulled them down so that he could seriously study his lover's smile. "What do you think?"
Chris shrugged and slipped his arms around the smaller man, drawing him closer so he could cuddle him. "They're smart boys, once they get over their hurt feelings, they'll come around." He planted another kiss on those kissable lips. "And they won't hurt you again, that I promise." His stern aspect and words melted then and he licked and nibbled at Ezra's chin. "But we aren't going back one day before our two weeks are up." He smiled more broadly. "Figure this is as close to a honeymoon as we're like to get."
"In that case, my love," Ezra whispered with a smile of his own, his confidence rebounding as his love swelled his heart, "how does Maui sound?"
Chris turned them on the bed, so that Ezra lay beneath him and he supported himself on elbows to either side of Ezra's head. With a look of intense affection, he lowered himself onto the smaller man, kissing him thoroughly. Breaking free to take a breath, chuckling at the panting under him, he answered easily, "Sounds like surf's up."
If you enjoyed this story, we're sure that MAC would love to hear from you.
HOME | MAC'S FIC | TITLES | AUTHORS | UNIVERSES
This website is maintained by Donna and Barb
with corrections and additions