Meetings. It was the one reason JD hated the first Tuesday of every month. Beyond having to wear a suit and tie the entire day, it was schlepping from one meeting to another only to sit through the same boring drivel all over again.A fifteen-minute break at ten o'clock, only a half hour for lunch, and then another break at three o'clock: it was like being in school again. And, if it weren't for continuously fresh coffee, free Danishes in the morning and free cookies in the afternoon, JD knew he'd drop dead from mind boggling boredom before the end of the day, which made it worse than school; he'd never fallen asleep during a lecture, but the same couldn't be said for these meetings.
Buck and Nathan had been kicking him in the shins all day and JD was positive he'd have the bruises tomorrow to prove it.
But, at least it was almost over. He watched the clock in desperation as the seconds slowly ticked away, the big hand sluggishly easing toward the numeral twelve. Then, suddenly, everyone started shuffling papers, notepads, and folders.
Three o'clock! Thank God!
JD was out of his chair faster than anyone, but he couldn't get around the large conference table quick enough to prevent being stuck behind too many agents shuffling out the single door.
Once free, he headed straight for the stairs, not even bothering with the elevator, taking them two at a time until he reached the landing two floors up. He opened the stairwell door onto a quiet and relatively deserted floor, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. Then, he turned left, down three doors, past the janitor's closet, and pushed into the men's room.
Finding the room empty, he leaned against the door, hastening it closed, then sighed with relief. Fifteen minutes of pure, uninterrupted silence. No lengthy, self-important, Power Point presentations that would have been more informative and a good deal less mind-numbing if consolidated into a single over-head projection. And no presenters attempting to impress their bosses while trying to show-up their co-workers.
JD walked slowly over to the urinal and unzipped his pants. His bladder wasn't straining, but there was no way he'd make it until five and take in the amount of coffee needed to stay awake if he didn't take a leak right now.
But as the sound of his stream hitting the porcelain began to echo through the restroom, the door was shoved open.
JD cringed at the interruption. Peace and quiet pissed away.
"Hey, kid!" Buck's booming voice drowned out the sound of the kid's urination. "You seen them lines downstairs? Worse than Coors Field during the Seventh-Innin' Stretch!" he chuckled, as he sidled up next to JD and unzipped his pants, then he groaned, loudly, as a thick stream of dark urine cascaded into the basin.
"Man, I've been holdin' that for too long!" the man finally sighed, but by this time, JD had zipped up his pants and moved to the sink to wash his hands.
"So," Buck continued, joining the kid again, "all meeting'd out for another month?"
"A lifetime's more like it. Don't know why we waste the time when there's so much work to be done," JD complained.
Buck grinned at his frustration. "I know what you mean. Can't catch criminals stuck inside a stuffy conference room with a bunch of self-important windbags!"
The kid just nodded, glancing up at Buck's image in the mirror above the sinks. The man was grinning at him.
JD frowned. "What?"
But Buck only grinned wider, stretching his mustache into a straight line across his upper lip. Then he reached out a wet hand and grabbed JD by the tie.
"Hey!" the kid protested as Buck dragged him toward a stall. "What the hell are you doing?"
But he didn't answer until after he'd somehow maneuvered the stall door shut behind them and thrown the bolt home.
Buck smiled again, but JD suddenly thought maybe it was more of a leer. "Payin' you back for last Saturday mornin'."
JD opened his mouth to protest; sure he'd instigated the early morning wake-up call, but Buck'd had his fair share of turning the tables. As far as JD was concerned, they were even. Hell, more than even!
But before he could say a word, Buck's lips were covering his own. JD's mind reeled, and then simply slipped away. He stared, wide-eyed, as the man just kept kissing him. But when he felt a hand at his crotch, grabbing his dick through his trousers, his thoughts suddenly returned, whirling into overdrive.
What the hell was Buck doing?! Why was he kissing him?! He'd never kissed him before. Ever. And, God! They were at work — fuck! — in the damn Denver Federal Building, with far too many of the division's ATF agents just yards away from them!
Anyone could walk in on them! At any moment!
That's when he felt his dick suddenly swell. Goddammit!
"No," he moaned into Buck's mouth, but this only made the man rub his dick harder.
Then he felt Buck's other hand at his crotch, unzipping his pants. The kid's own hands flew up to stop him. They shouldn't being do this! Not here! "Dammit, Buck!" he wanted to scream, but the man's tongue was caressing his tonsils and JD just couldn't pull himself away.
Buck deftly worked around the kid's fumbling fingers and, in less than a handful of rapid heartbeats, had his zipper down, his trousers unbuttoned, and his hand inside the fly of JD's boxers.
The kid's knees threatened to buckle as he felt the warm flesh of Buck's palm and fingers against his rock hard dick.
God! Damn! This can't be happening, his mind was almost positive. He'd fallen asleep in the meeting. This was all just some Danish and pastrami-induced dream. At any moment Nathan or Buck would be kicking him in the shins to wake him up. Yeah, that was it.
So, why did it feel so real as Buck stroked his hand up and down his hard shaft? And why was he suddenly hoping it wasn't a dream?
Buck finally released his mouth and JD drank in deep, desperate gasps of fresh air. His head was spinning, his dick was aching, and his groin muscles were beginning to spasm.
"Please," he begged, knowing he couldn't stand much more, yet fearing he wouldn't be able to stand at all if Buck kept doing what he was so expertly doing!
The kid squeezed his eyes shut tight as a shiver flashed across the lower half of his body. Buck had somehow gotten his boxers down and was now fingering his ass as he continued to stroke, faster and faster, over JD's dick.
Another shiver wracked his body and JD began to moan, only to have Buck smother the sound with his own mouth again. His mustache poked and tickled, but his tongue teased and coaxed until JD's hips were thrusting into Buck's hand, begging for the come.
Another spasm cramped his stomach muscles, nearly doubling him over, and then a bolt shot up his spine, throwing JD's head back against the stall door. That's when Buck's mouth left JD's and suddenly enveloped his dick, just as he began to spurt.
He thrust sharply into the man's mouth, unable to stop himself, not really wanting to, as Buck held onto his hips in a modicum of control.
As the man swallowed the evidence of their deed, JD's knees finally gave out, but the hands on his hips held him firmly up, against the stall door. The kid was breathing heavily now, feeling as if he'd just run a four-minute mile.
When Buck released him, JD leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees and breathing deeply. He could feel the sweat pouring off his forehead, but before he could reach for the toilet paper, Buck handed him a wad. He scrubbed it across his brow, as his breaths started to come more easily. Then, finally, he stood.
Buck was smiling at him again, but this time, to JD's eyes, it was anything but a leer.
JD sucked in one last, deep lungful of air, and then breathed out a Damn! before pulling up his boxers and doing up his pants. Then, he turned around, slid the bolt back, and eased open the stall door.
He checked the restroom, suddenly scared that he'd find an audience awaiting their emergence, but he found the room just as empty as they'd left it.
JD headed straight for the sink, washing his hands again. Then he grabbed a couple of paper towels, wetted them under cold water; he pressed one to his forehead and the other to the back of his neck.
Buck merely washed his hands before cupping them under the tap to fill them; he leaned over the basin and took in the mouthful of water. JD watched him in the mirror as his cheeks puffed out — first on one side and then on the other — as he swished the water about. Then, to the kid's surprise, the man swallowed, again, instead of spitting the liquid out.
Buck straightened up, pushed his sleeve back and checked his watch. "We've got three minutes to get our asses back downstairs."
JD just nodded as he followed Buck out, throwing away the paper towels when he passed the trash receptacle near the door.
Downstairs, the two men joined the line of agents trudging back into the conference room, which, impossibly, seemed stuffier to JD than it had before.
He slipped into his seat beside Nathan, somehow having become separated from Buck in the crowd. When he looked up, he saw the man leaning against the doorjamb, chatting up A.D. Travis's newest secretary — Millie something or other. JD knew Buck had been working on her for months, since her first day on the job, and his mind readily pictured the two of them kissing. For the first time, he knew what the woman was missing out on; though, if Buck had any say in the matter, she'd find out soon enough.
"JD?" Nathan whispered, leaning close and breaking through JD's thoughts.
The kid tore his gaze away from Buck, then blinked several times until Nathan's face, just inches from his own, came into focus. "Huh?"
Nathan creased his brow with a frown that everyone knew meant concern, worry, and confusion. "JD? Why's your collar soakin' wet?"
"Looks like he musta fallen in," Buck said, suddenly behind them. He grabbed the back of JD's neck, ruffling the damp strands of hair with a vigorous shake before sliding his hand down to the kid's shoulder. Then, he slipped into his chair, giving the kid a quick squeeze and a wink, as the lights began to dim for the next presentation.
The End
April 2002Please do NOT repost this story anywhere, for any reason.Characters from "The Magnificent Seven" were used without permission and this story in no way signifies support of, or affiliation with, The Mirisch Group, MGM, Trilogy Entertainment, or CBS Worldwide, Inc. The M7-ATF universe was created by Mog, and extra thanks go to her for allowing other people to play within it. The story itself and any non-Magnificent Seven characters belong to the author. This story will not be sold for any reason.