Just Two Guys Wrasslin'

Dick Gumshoe took a deep breath and let it out, trying to ignore the tingling of his body. He’d known from the very beginning that this was a bad idea, but he also knew that saying no to a prosecutor was an even worse idea.

“Okay, tiger.” Prosecutor Godot was crouching a few feet away from him, black shorts tight across his butt as he tied his shoelaces. “Don’t go easy on me this time.”

“You got it, pal!” Gumshoe replied, and winced at the way his voice squeaked at the end. He shook his head slightly. Oh, this was no good. No good at all.

The police gym was deserted; it was that golden time when the officers who’d worked all day were home eating dinner with their loved ones, and the serious gym rats wouldn’t be in until later in the evening. Gumshoe scheduled what passed for his dinner as late as possible to try and tide himself over till lunch the next day, and with the gym empty there was nobody to yell at him for sweating on the machines and crash mats. It wasn’t his fault he usually smelled like beef noodle flavouring.

Godot looked over his shoulder at the detective, and smirked. “Something wrong, tiger? You look…flushed.”

“F-fine, sir!” Gumshoe assured him. He turned away and did some more stretches.

He’d felt an attraction to Godot since he’d met him. Gumshoe wasn’t quite sure why – he was mostly straight, but every now and then he got those funny, heart-thumpy, anxious feelings for a guy. The last person to inspire such feelings was Jake Marshall, and Gumshoe supposed maybe Godot reminded him of Jake a bit. Gumshoe had made up his mind early on never to tell Godot about his feelings – the prosecutor was so aggressively straight, and his boss besides, nothing would ever happen between them. He had a little crush was all, it would go away by itself and nobody would ever know.

And then one evening Godot stuck his head around the door of the Criminal Affairs Department and barked at Gumshoe to meet him in the gym after work.

Gumshoe turned back around in time to see Godot remove his visor and set it next to his gym bag, by the edge of the mat. The prosecutor straightened up, blue and white soccer jersey sliding over the lean body underneath. Gumshoe gulped.

Godot turned and held out his hand, a smirk on his face.

“Shall we dance?”

Gumshoe managed a nervous laugh and wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his grey sweatpants. He took Godot’s hand and guided him to the centre of the mat.

The first time, he’d been nervous for a different reason – he couldn’t frame it any other way than him beating up on a blind guy.

“You sure about this, sir? It just seems…kinda unfair.”

“They have judo for the blind in the Paralympics, tiger.” A cocky smirk appeared on Godot’s face. “When we’re this close, I don’t need eyes.”

Five minutes into their first bout, with Godot’s body pressed against his own, the smell of cologne and two kinds of sweat, Gumshoe had something much worse to worry about. By some miracle, the prosecutor hadn’t noticed his raging erection that night, and from then on, Gumshoe made sure he never would.

The two men crouched on the mat, face to face. Gumshoe took Godot’s hand and laid it on his shoulder. He could smell the other man already, and it almost drove him wild.

“Ready, pal?”

Godot smirked. “Ready, tiger.”

They began to wrestle.

Much as Gumshoe worried about being found out, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed these sessions. Looping his arms around the prosecutor, pushing him down on the mat, being pinned in turn, feeling his tall, lean body on top of him…well, it was the closest thing to sex with Godot he would ever get. They rolled around on the mat, every grunt and whiff of sweat increasing Gumshoe’s arousal. And yet, tonight he had a nagging feeling that something was missing…

Godot got the upper hand, catching him around the shoulders and flipping him onto his back. As the prosecutor attempted a headlock, Gumshoe looked down at himself and froze in horror. His erection was straining free against his sweatpants, the loose cotton offering no restraint at all. Gumshoe realised he’d forgotten to wear his cup.

Godot noticed the lack of movement and relaxed his hold on the detective.

“Giving up already?” he asked with a smirk.

“Uh…” Gumshoe tried desperately to think of some way out of this. He didn’t dare try to pin the prosecutor. Godot would know if he was letting him win. If he tried to make an excuse to end their session early, Godot might not believe it. And even with all that anxiety, his erection wasn’t going away.

Then Godot grabbed him around the shoulders again and it was out of Gumshoe’s hands.

Gumshoe gasped as the prosecutor flipped him over and pushed his head down onto the mat. He bit back a moan as Godot straddled him…and then his eyes widened as he felt something very unexpected pressing against him.

“S-sir…?”

Godot chuckled.

“Oh, tiger,” he purred, “you really thought I never noticed?” He reached around and flicked one of Gumshoe’s nipples, standing out underneath his flimsy white T-shirt. He rolled his hips against the detective, his stiff erection lying right down the centre of Gumshoe’s butt.

“S-sir…” Gumshoe licked his dry lips. He hardly knew what to make of the situation. Nervous and excited all at once, his stomach turned over and his erection pulsed, aching suddenly in anticipation.

Godot slid a hand around and between Gumshoe’s legs, gently stroking his erection through his sweats, making the detective shudder and moan.

“Can you reach my bag?” he asked.

Gumshoe looked around and saw that they were close to the edge of the mat.

“Yeah,” he grunted. Godot relaxed his hold on him slightly and Gumshoe reached out for the gym bag.

“Look in the side pocket,” Godot murmured.

Gumshoe reached inside and his hand closed around a plastic tube and a foil packet. He pulled them out and gulped. Astro-Glide, and a condom.

“Sir…” he began, and groaned when Godot chuckled and rubbed his erection slowly up and down. “Some-someone will see…”

Godot rocked against him again, almost purring.

“Decision’s in your hands, tiger.”

Gumshoe looked at the condom and the lube, and gulped. There was a real possibility that they would be discovered, and he had a feeling Godot wouldn’t agree to a change of venue. But he wanted the prosecutor badly, and the way he was rubbing him through his clothes wasn’t helping him to think rationally. With a moan, Gumshoe pushed both items into Godot’s hand.

“Ha.” Gumshoe shivered as Godot slid his hands inside his boxers and sweatpants and eased them down off his butt. The prosecutor felt his way to the detective’s crack, and ran a finger slowly down between Gumshoe’s buttocks until he found the spot he wanted.

Gumshoe flinched at the cool gel on his ass. He flinched again and almost yelped as a long finger slid inside him.

“Easy, tiger,” Godot purred. He stroked Gumshoe through his sweatpants, making little soothing noises as he slowly worked his fingers in and out of the detective, getting him ready. “Just relax…”

Gumshoe couldn’t do anything except moan and grunt as Godot finally eased his erection inside him. It was hard and hot and sore, and then suddenly Godot hit a spot that made stars explode behind the detective’s eyes.

“Nngh – aahaaah!”

Godot laughed and pulled out slow. “You like that, tiger?”

Before Gumshoe could reply, Godot thrust in hard, hitting that spot again and sending waves of pleasure through the detective’s groin. Gumshoe moaned and humped the air, desperate for friction on his aching cock.

“Ha…! Guess that’s a yes,” the prosecutor grunted. He wrapped one arm around Gumshoe’s waist and used the other one to rub Gumshoe’s chest through his T-shirt. Gumshoe squirmed at the touch, somehow more sensual than if Godot’s slender, graceful fingers were caressing bare skin.

Godot leaned over him and pressed his chest against Gumshoe’s back, using his weight to gently push Gumshoe’s head down to the mat. Gumshoe’s naked bottom rubbed against the shiny material of Godot’s shorts, and he guessed the prosecutor had pulled both their pants down just far enough to do what he wanted. If someone walked in, there was a chance they’d think they were just wrestling. Gumshoe groaned as the thought of being discovered made him feel even harder. With his head on the mat and his ass in the air, he felt wanton and slutty, a slave to his hard, bulging cock.

“You feel so good,” Godot moaned in his ear, and Gumshoe almost sobbed with relief as Godot slid his hand inside the detective’s pants. Godot began to thrust faster as he firmly massaged Gumshoe’s aching erection.

“Ohhhh…careful, pal…” Gumshoe moaned, feeling the mat slip a few centimetres underneath them. “N…not safe…”

Godot just laughed, his chest shaking against Gumshoe’s back and his breath hot on Gumshoe’s neck. Then he slid his hand down along Gumshoe’s erection, gently rubbing the sensitive tip with his thumb as he thrust inside him again, and suddenly Gumshoe couldn’t think about anything else. He pushed his rear up and back against the prosecutor, desperate for more. Sweat ran down his back into his hair, and dripped off his forehead onto the gym mat beneath them. He could smell himself, and he could smell Godot, and then all he could smell was a wonderful combination of the two.

Abruptly Godot switched the tempo again, thrusting in harder and deeper than before. Gumshoe let out a long, deep groan. Godot was really riding him now, and for the first time since they’d started Gumshoe realised he was going to be sore in the morning. He imagined himself limping into work, sitting down very gingerly, maybe even rolling up his coat to use as a cushion against the hard office chairs, and everyone would know he’d had hot, sweaty, ass-pounding sex with a big handsome guy…

Godot pumped him furiously as he rammed into him, and all of a sudden Gumshoe couldn’t take any more.

“Nngh…pal…I’m gonna –”

Godot leaned back without warning, pulling Gumshoe with him. The detective sat down hard, taking the prosecutor deeper than ever, and it sent him over the edge.

“Aaagh!”

He had a split second of panic as his balls emptied, terrified that it would shoot halfway across the gym, but then moaned in relief as his boxers filled with come. Godot humped against him for a few more seconds, then groaned and stilled before falling backwards onto the mat.

Gumshoe glanced at the prosecutor over his shoulder as he got his breath back. Godot lay with arm draped across his forehead, chest heaving from all the exertion. Sweat glistened on his face.

“Get my visor, eh?” Godot panted, smirking in Gumshoe’s direction.

The detective nodded without thinking, and carefully eased himself off Godot’s softening erection. He winced as he stood up, a stinging ache in his rear. The long muscles of his thighs were protesting too. Gumshoe hitched up his pants and hobbled over to the edge of the mat. He picked up Godot’s visor, and handed it to the prosecutor.

“Thanks.” Godot slid the device on his face, the lights flashing and then glowing a steady red as it was activated. He pulled the condom off and tied a knot at the end, then tucked his cock back in his shorts and stood up.

“I could use a shower, tiger,” he remarked with a smirk, walking over to the edge of the mat. He picked up his gym bag, fished a wad of tissues from inside it and wrapped the condom in them. As Gumshoe followed, Godot glanced at his crotch and grinned. “And you could use a change of clothes.”

Gumshoe looked down and blushed at the dark wet patch on the front of his pants. He grabbed a towel from his own bag and held it in front of his waist as they left the gym.

“Um…sir?” Gumshoe asked as they entered the locker room.

Godot walked away, dropping his bag on the floor, and pulled his shirt off. “Hm?”

Gumshoe licked his lips nervously, trying not to be distracted by the prosecutor’s lean, toned chest. “Uh…I was wondering…” He scratched the back of his head. “…what now?”

Godot stared at him dourly. Gumshoe shifted uncomfortably and dropped his gaze, staring at the floor. It was just sex to Godot, he realised, and it might’ve happened again if he’d pretended that it didn’t mean anything. But now he’d ruined it by opening his big stupid mouth, hinting that he wanted something more.

“How about coffee and a donut?”

Gumshoe looked up in surprise. “Wha…really?”

Godot smirked back at him. “Never say something you don’t mean. That’s my rule.” He finished undressing and slung a towel over his shoulder. He paused and slapped Gumshoe on the back as he headed for the showers. “I think we should have our next wrestling session somewhere more…private. Don’t you, tiger?”

Gumshoe spent the rest of the night with a smile on his face.