Is That How You Used to Run the Good Cop/Bad Cop?

By bh deluxe

Rating: NC-17 for consensual m/m sex that doesn't look it, bad words, and beer drinkin'.

Pairing: White/Exley

Disclaimer: Characters are creations and intellectual property of James Ellroy, with contributions from Brian Hegeland and Curtis Hanson. Filthy imagination and perfect punctuation property of me.

Spoilers: Takes place after the end of the movie.

Summary: Bud moves back to L.A. and splits a six-pack with Exley at Lynn's old place.

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Is That How You Used to Run the Good Cop/Bad Cop?

By bh deluxe

Edmund Exley stood, somewhat ill-at-ease, inside Lynn Bracken’s former bungalow as Bud White casually kicked its arched front door shut behind them.

"Never thought I’d see the inside of this place again," said Exley, and immediately wished he’d kept his mouth shut. White smiled at the floor. Sometimes you just had to feel for the kid. It wasn’t like he didn’t try. "Don’t fuckin’ sweat it, Exley. That’s old news. For a while Lynn was what I needed and I was what she needed. A road trip to Arizona’s a small price to pay to find out that I belong here."

Here was not what it used to be, that was for sure. There were no longer any photographs of Veronica Lake adorning the walls and her bed was gone from its place of honor in the back room. White and Exley’s jackets lay piled on the headboard, footboard, box spring and mattress that leaned up against a wall by the door, and no curtains masked the rays of the sinking sun flooding in from the west-facing windows. The six-pack of longnecks they’d bought on the way to the house sat on the floor as condensation started to form on the glass bottles.

As usual, Bud and Ed’s sole concessions to the still-sunny Los Angeles autumn were the unbuttoned top buttons of their dress shirts. Exley had just gotten off a shift, and had gone so far as to loosen his tie. Bud was wearing what might as well have been his uniform - short-sleeved white shirt and brown pants.

The pull-down movie screen had been left installed in the ceiling - it crossed Bud’s mind that a real estate agent would probably have planned to market it to newlyweds for inflicting slides on their single friends.

Bud laughed softly to himself and shook his head. And here he’d thought he could be that guy, the guy with the honeymoon slides.

"What?" asked Exley.

"Huh?"

"Forget it."

"Hey - thanks for driving my car over to the movers’ to meet me," Bud said, wishing he’d left off the last three words. Obviously, Exley’d driven over to meet Bud. It was Bud’s car, for Chrissake! Why make a thing of it? "I’ve still got some friends around, but none I’d want to ask to help me move into the house my ex-hooker girlfriend sold me for a buck."

Since Exley was wandering aimlessly, peering out of windows and jingling the change in his pockets, Bud took his first opportunity since before he’d left town to really get a good look at him. He was still shiny, somehow, and a little babyfaced, but something was definitely different. He’d lost that brittle quality that had cost him the trust of his fellow officers in the past. He wasn’t done becoming what he was going to be yet, but White would bet that he was no longer persona non grata down at the department.

"No problem. Who knew Patchett was so sentimental - leaving his personal Veronica Lake her very own house in his will." White’s new scars suited him, Ed decided. Of course, that was no surprise. Bud White had scars like other people had their mother’s eyes or their father’s build - it just made sense. Exley had to admit he liked seeing evidence their shared experiences on Bud’s body.

"You never fuckin’ know what a guy’s going to be a pushover for," mused Bud to himself, and was surprised to hear Exley reply.

"Ain’t it the truth," said Exley. Ain’t it just. "Take the D.A., for instance."

"Oh, you mean - Don’t pull that good cop/bad cop crap..." recited Bud indulgently.

"...I practically invented it!" crowed Ed.

Bud laughed as he used his car key to flick open the tops on a couple of the beers, holding his arms out into a patch of sunlight remaining in the lengthening shadows so he could see what he was doing.

"Thanks," said Ed, as he accepted his beer from Bud. Exley carefully, with a deftness born of habit, avoided contact between Bud’s hand and his own. White facilitated his efforts by looking absently out a window. "Considering that all I did was drive, this is more than adequate reward." Desperate for something to do that would prevent him from blurting out any more stupid comments, Exley surprised himself by sucking down half the beer in one gulp.

"Yeah, well, might as well kill the six-pack - the fridge won’t work until the power comes on tomorrow." Bud looked around vaguely. "I guess I should probably get a goddam phone, too. Maybe in a couple weeks after I lay low awhile, get used to loafing around on disability." Why was Bud telling him this? What did Exley care what Bud’s plans were?

Through the open windows drifted the distant voices of mothers calling their children in from after-dinner play, punctuated by the chirps of crickets.

Ed finished his beer as he paced with attempted nonchalance. He suddenly found the silence intolerable. "Want some help moving any, uh, furniture?" he asked, immediately wishing once again that he’d kept quiet. Of course the only furniture in the house was White’s bed, that behemoth that Bud and the movers had wrestled into the bungalow, all their strength apparently sufficient only to barely get it in the door. Exley had been making a point of looking everywhere else since he’d walked in the door. Naturally, he had not commented on the faint sheen of sweat gilding Bud’s skin as a result of his exertions. He just stored it away in his memory with a thousand other similar visuals for further examination later.

Bud saw Ed glance toward the spot where Veronica Lake’s bed had been.

"Oh, no - it’s not going there. That was just a fuckin’ stage. The real bedroom was back there," Bud said with studied disinterest as he pointed his beer vaguely towards the staircase leading to the back of the house. Ed avoided looking at the bed. Bud avoided looking towards the bedroom door. They ended up looking at each other.

They kept eye contact a fraction too long. Bud noticed Exley’s middle finger tracing the lip of his empty beer bottle but didn’t allow his interest to register in his face. Constant practice had made his expression unreadable, not that Exley was making any attempt to read it - his eyes were suddenly fixed on a crack in the baseboard by the front door.

Bud decided the best defense was a good offense. He drained the rest of his beer, opened two more and walked over to hand one to Exley.

"Aw, c’mon up. Seems a shame for you not to ever fuckin’ see it," Bud said as he put a companionable hand on Exley’s shoulder, propelling him in front of him up the stairs to the closed bedroom door. While he stared at the back of Exley’s neck and imagined biting it where his hair was shaved close, Bud was careful to touch only Exley’s shirt, letting just the tips of his thumb and index finger overlap his collar. He felt Exley’s shoulderblade move beneath his palm as Ed nervously switched his beer from one hand to the other.

Exley’s skin under White’s hand burned, and he gave in to the impulse to stumble a bit as he took the first step up. It allowed him to imagine that Bud was forcing him to go somewhere he didn’t want to go. He’d gotten adept at squeezing every bit of erotic potential from interactions with White but, now that White was off the force and they didn’t have much excuse to hang around each other, he wondered as they walked up the stairs if this would be his last chance.

Exley slowed as he approached the door, and White had to pull up short to avoid running into him. Bad enough for the front of one man’s shirt to touch the back of another’s - Bud tried not to imagine what would happen if his stiffening erection would brush against any part of Exley’s body. It had been easy to keep these things undetectable when they were getting shot at but now, in these close quarters, when there was no reason for him to be following Exley quite this closely...Bud couldn’t decide if he loved this or hated it. No - that wasn’t quite true. He relished it, although now that Exley wasn’t his superior officer anymore (come on - never fuckin’ was), he considered the possibility that it might be time to up the ante.

Exley opened the bedroom door, both relieved and disappointed to see that it was a vacant upstairs bedroom like any other. He boldly walked straight in - it could be any room, anywhere. No big deal. It’s fine to be alone in a bedroom with Bud White. There was no bed, there were no curtains - who could even tell it was a bedroom? No reason to feel the need to pace back and forth like some kind of trapped animal. Fucking get a grip on yourself, Ed.

Now Bud was really enjoying this. He could practically see Exley’s tail lashing back and forth. It was all Bud could do not to slam the door shut behind him, just to see the look it would bring to Exley’s eyes.

"Not much of a view," Ed blurted, resting his forearms against the top sash of a window at random and brushing his forehead on the screen filling the top half of the window. Opening his eyes, he noticed a spectacular view of the Los Angeles skyline, now beginning to glow with streetlights. Naturally. A great view, worthy of Veronica Lake, which he would’ve noticed if he’d actually been looking. He might as well have an "I Find Bud White Distracting" sign around his neck.

"I never really noticed the view," deadpanned Bud from directly behind Exley.

Exley took a moment to reflect on how great it would be to be a mute. He could just carry a little pad of paper and a pencil. Maybe get a job as a housepainter or something. Priority One in his new life: Stop playing one-sided mind sex games with Bud White. How hard could it be? He straightened to step back from the window, but when he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t back into White, he saw that Bud was close behind him. Close enough that an attempt to back up carried too great a risk of accidentally touching him. So Ed just turned to face the window again and racked his brain for something safe to say. It was probably just as well - the crotch of his pants was distending in a way that was getting difficult to disguise. He took the opportunity to surreptitiously press his swelling cock against the cool glass of the window.

"Well, now you’re in the club." Bud’s voice came from very close to Exley’s left ear. "Lynn brought me up here. Now I’ve brought you." Bud’s left hand had appeared on the left side of the window, while his right hand mirrored its movements. He allowed his body to rest against Exley’s, just enough so that his straining cock barely pressed against the rounded curve of Ed’s ass.

Okay, that I didn’t imagine. That happened. What’s happening? "What...?" said Exley, as he started to turn around.

"No. You’re fine like this," stated Bud, stepping forward and pressing his whole body against Exley’s to hold him still. Taking one of Exley’s wrists in each hand, Bud pulled them up higher on the wall so that Exley was forced to step forward. Now Exley was pinned facing the window. Bud smoothly nudged Exley’s feet out sideways past his shoulders, as though to pat him down, and put his own feet where Ed’s had been.

Exley could feel Bud’s measured breath on the back of his neck and the front of his thighs on the back of his own. He struggled not to shake, wishing he had White’s control, while Bud’s right hand slowly, deliberately released Exley’s right wrist and Bud slid its palm along the underside of his arm, down his ribcage, past his hip, and squeezed Exley’s now-obvious bulge in a firm grip. "Nice. Looks like I was right. About a couple things," growled Bud into Ed’s ear.

Although Ed could feel Bud’s hard-on against him, he was still ashamed of his own. Of what it meant in this situation. Christ, in this position! Exley flinched.

"Ssshhh, kid. You’re going to like this. I’ve waited too long for you not to," Bud whispered as he unbuckled Exley’s belt with his right hand, unzipping his fly with his left. As he slid Ed’s pants and boxer shorts down and heard his change and belt buckle clatter to the floor, Bud registered the fact that, although Exley’s hands were free, he was making no attempt to escape. But where was...oh. Judging from the rhythmic movement of Exley’s shoulder, White assumed his hand was wrapped around his cock.

Now that he didn’t have to worry about Exley trying to squirm away, Bud rested his hands on Exley’s hips and slowly, gently rubbed his still-gabardine’d crotch against Exley’s round cheeks, forcing them slightly apart with each pass and wringing a soft cry from deep in Ed’s throat. Ed gasped for breath, squeezing his cock mercilessly, trying not to come. Drops of precum were starting to ooze down over his hand.

Hurrying now, Bud undid his own pants and roughly pulled his cock out over the waistband of his shorts. He could see a glistening drop of liquid on its tip. As he drank in the sight of Exley’s pale, vulnerable ass so close to his own thick cock darkly engorged with blood, the drop swelled and dripped onto Exley’s calf. That move was echoed by Bud’s mouth filling with saliva which he spit onto his hand. Bud rubbed the head of his cock with the palm of his hand, leaving a slippery layer on it, but he was still salivating like an animal. Finally, Bud just let Ed fall away from him enough for him to drool directly on the head of his own cock, onto the small of Exley’s back, into the crack between his shivering ass cheeks. He wanted to eat him alive.

Ed’s whole body shuddered as he let himself understand what the fumbling behind him meant. What was dripping onto him, first his leg and now his back, what that round, smooth, insistent point of pressure he felt was.

Bud carefully, unhurriedly, placed his palms against Exley’s cheeks and spread them wide. He allowed the head of his cock to slide down Exley’s spine until it rested against his sweet little asshole. He planted his feet. He distributed his weight evenly. He placed his hands once again on the window frame on either side of Exley. He gently scraped his teeth against the nape of Exley’s neck and breathed into his ear, "You ready, kid?"

Exley couldn’t quite make out what Bud was saying through the static fuzz in his ears. Jesus, it was like he could feel electric current moving in waves through his body, originating from the point where Bud was about to penetrate him. No - fuck him. Bud was about to fuck him. He felt like a virgin. Hell, he was a virgin - this way, anyway. But he knew enough to ask for what he needed, regardless of what Bud’s words might have been. Before he lost his nerve, he nodded out at the twinkling city. Bud pushed his hips forward, just a little. Just enough to overcome the initial resistance.

"ow. oh. ooh."

Exley moaned softly, so softly that Bud had to strain to hear him. "Kid, that’s just an inch. Just the head. Want more?"

"Yeah, Bud."

"That’s White."

The tone of Bud’s voice just about sucked the come right out of Exley’s balls. After weathering the jolt of his cock jumping to attention, Ed released his deathgrip on it and braced his forearms against the window frame.

"Okay. White."

Now Bud’s hands were gripping Exley’s hips. "What else?"

"I want more, White. Shove your cock deeper inside me."

"Attaboy. I’ll go slow. But I won’t stop. Sure you can take this?"

Exley was so excited he couldn’t have cared less about whether he’d be able to take it or not. He knew now he wasn’t in charge of anything. He’d never been in charge of anything. He thought he’d been playing with White, only White hadn’t been playing. Now, finally, Ed could just relax and let Bud White pound the fuck out of him. Maybe he’d bait him just a little, get things moving in the right direction. No reason to let Bud think he was a sissy just ‘cause he wanted Bud balls-deep in his ass. "Sure I’m sure, White. Are you sure you’ve got enough?" He twisted his head around to make eye contact with Bud, and raised one eyebrow.

Bud let that rare smile cross his face. Then he smoothly sank the entire length of his shaft into Exley. Exley’s head fell forward and he let out a little scream. Bud heard it as he was pulling back and hesitated, but Exley thrust backwards to impale himself again. Now they knew they could take each other seriously. Balancing himself with his left hand on the window frame, Bud wrapped his right hand around Exley’s cock and let Ed fuck his fist while Bud fucked his ass. Bud felt Ed’s muscles contract violently around his cock, once, twice as Exley’s cock pulsated in his hand. Exley groaned and his knees buckled as come splattered the window. Bud wrapped his arms around Exley’s stomach to keep him on his feet long enough to pump his load inside him.

White and Exley, having pulled their pants back up and tucked their shirts back in, sat on the front steps of the house and finished the last two beers in a twilight provided by the faint glow of streetlights and the occasional stray firefly.

"I guess I’m pretty much moved in. All I really need now is a table and some chairs for poker games. You ever play poker, Ex?"

"Sometimes."

"Any day better than any other?"

"Wednesdays’re all right."

"Okay. I’ll round up the guys. See you then."

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