Retreat

Part Three of the Fall Series
by Tiriel
Rating: NC-17, m/m

Picks up the story a few hours after "Approach II" -a little more spoilery here. It all still fits in very nicely as missing scenes from the eps, but that may change later on.

Disclaimer: The characters of this story don't belong to me...they came from the twisted minds of David Lynch and Mark Frost (and I mean that respectfully)-I'll put them back when I'm done. Please don't sue me, all I have are student loans...also, this is not beta'd, errors are entirely my fault.

Here comes the angst. "Offscreen" m/f action also takes place in this story.

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The day started well enough, with Dale's unexpected appearance at my home, and what came after. Pun intended. The rest of the day was not as pleasant. In between confrontations, revelations, and interrogations, Pete called. I couldn't read the expression in Dale's eyes when I told him about Josie, asked for the chance to see her alone before we brought her in. Maybe I didn't want to read it. That phone call did something I hadn't thought would be possible. It left me even more confused than I had been. Then, that night, we had to arrest Leland Palmer for the murder of Jacques Renault. A day like that left little time for reflection and self-examination, which suited me just fine. It was easier not to think.

When I finally got to sleep that night, the last thing I expected was to dream. I thought I'd be too tired. In the dream, I was again standing at the top of the falls, looking down. I heard something, looked, and saw Dale standing nearby. He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. I looked back down. The drop again looked endless, but there was a new element. Terror. I was gripped by the most paralyzing fear I'd ever felt. I woke up, my heart pounding. I couldn't get back to sleep, so I went in to the station early.

That day, he asked me for a favor. To "borrow" one of the Bookhouse Boys. The best one. Whatever it was, I knew it was important, so I agreed to send someone to meet him. I didn't tell him it would be me.

Later on, when I went to see Josie, I found myself unsure. I didn't know how to act, what to say. I confronted her about why she'd left, about the fire--more angry than I'd meant to be. She denied any involvement, any ulterior motive for her disappearance. As always happened with the two of us, things soon turned to sex. But I couldn't stop asking, over and over, "Why didn't you tell me?" Even more than usual, our lovemaking felt desperate, driven. I left as soon as I could.

The storm made the drive back to the station somehow seem longer. Judge Sternwood had already arrived when I got there. He guessed that I had "filly trouble." I couldn't help wondering what he'd say if he knew the whole truth. Then again, he's a perceptive man, like Dale is. Maybe he did know. But if he did, if he saw through Dale and I, he didn't say anything.

After our business at the station was done, Dale asked if everything was arranged for the meeting at the Roadhouse with the Bookhouse Boy I was sending him.

"He'll be there," I said, pleased that for once it seemed I was going to surprise him.

I did surprise him, although in hindsight I have to think that he probably would have figured it out if he hadn't been so worried about Audrey. But at the time, it made me happy, like I'd won a prize. And his pleased smile when he realized I'd fooled him made me feel warm all over. He bought me a beer, we moved from the bar to a booth so we could talk more privately, and he told me what he knew about the ransom drop. A couple of beers and several cups of coffee later, we seemed to have run out of things to say. An awkward silence fell.

"Harry--"

"Cooper--"

We'd started to speak at the same time. Both of us stopped and smiled. We kept grinning at each other as we spoke.

"Go ahead, Harry," he said.

"I was just--I was just going to ask if you wanted to...go somewhere."

"As in, 'your place or mine,' Harry?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, shocked to feel myself blushing.

"Well, great minds think alike, Harry. I was going to suggest the same thing. My hotel room?"

"I'll see you there," I said, and we left the Roadhouse.

I sat in my car in the parking lot of the Great Northern for a few minutes before going up to his room. I felt like a teenager, about to pick up a girl for a first date. Except, of course, that we were both adults, both men, and this wasn't exactly a first date. I sighed, got out of the car, and headed for Cooper's room.

I had just raised my hand to knock when the door opened.

"I thought you'd never get here, Harry," he said.

I stepped in, he closed the door, and from there to the bed, the sequence of events gets a little fuzzy for me. We were kissing as soon as the door shut, kissing as if we wanted to merge into a single body. Somehow, in that tangle of limbs and tongues and lips and hands, we managed to remove our clothing and reach the bed. I never did find the button to my slacks, though.

I do recall very clearly what happened when we reached the bed. Dale and I rolled together, hardness to hardness. I slid down the bed and took his erection into my mouth, tasting the salty precum. He arched up, and I placed a soft kiss on the head of his cock before moving back up to kiss his mouth.

I wanted him. I needed to keep this separate from what Josie and I had taken from each other earlier that evening. I rolled onto my back, taking him with me, and whispered in his ear, "I want you, Dale. I want you in me." I ran my tongue along the edge of his ear and felt him shudder.

"Yes, Harry," he whispered in return, and trailed his lips down my neck. I felt as if all my senses had narrowed to touch and hearing. The sound of our breathing, the sensation of his hands on my skin. I heard the drawer of the bedside table open and close. Then I heard myself whimper as his mouth dropped to my chest and he grazed his teeth across my left nipple, then swirled his tongue around it. My skin was hot. His mouth continued its descent.

Even though I was expecting it, the first touch of his lips on my cock made me jump. Then I felt his tongue circle the head, slide along the underside to my balls, then back up. I felt his cool, slick finger press into me as he took my cock deep into his throat. I moaned at the sensations. His lips and tongue working my cock, his finger, soon joined by a second, stretching me, making me ready for him.

It was an odd sensation, strange and pleasurable at the same time. At some point after he added a third finger, I felt a sudden stab of electricity and my breathing grew ragged. He chuckled at my reaction, and hit the same spot again, what must have been my prostate. I howled quietly and came, bucking up into his mouth. I felt him swallow, and he slid his fingers out of me. I missed the feeling of fullness more than I had thought I would.

I gathered enough energy to turn over, and Dale helped me place the pillows under myself to get a good angle. I turned my head to the side and waited, still relaxed from head to toe from my orgasm. I heard the condom wrapper tear, then a moment later I felt him start to press into me, and tensed a little as the pain hit.

I heard Dale's voice, filled with wonder and desire. "You've never done this before, have you, Harry?"

I didn't answer, but something about that--what he said, how he said it, I don't know--brought back my need for him, and I relaxed. He slowly entered me, and I finally felt his hips pressed hard against my flesh. The pain subsided into pleasure, and I was pleasantly surprised to feel my cock begin to stir again. I wriggled beneath him, silently asking. He answered by moving, slowly at first, then picking up speed as he saw that I was relaxed and enjoying. He laced his fingers with mine, our joined hands pushing down into the mattress. I wanted to beg for more, harder, faster, but I couldn't speak.

Soon I was hard again, thrusting against the pillows beneath me. Dale had built up speed and was slamming into me now, as if he'd heard my unvoiced requests. I felt a tingling warmth and relaxation spread through me, punctuated by the occasional jolt when the stroke was just right. I felt the hitch in his rhythm, knew it wouldn't be much longer. I could see his expression out of the corner of my eye, and I pushed back harder against his thrusts. I closed my eyes, heard him exhale, felt his weight lean against me, and I came, explosions of light behind my eyelids.

We lay there, still joined, for a moment, and then he unlaced his fingers from mine and pushed himself back, out of my body. I rolled over onto my back. He collapsed next to me, both of us exhausted and exhilarated.

This was giving, I realized as I lay there next to him, my hand drifting across his chest. We had given each other pleasure, rather than taking it from one another. I felt a sudden burst of anger that I couldn't quite explain at the time.

I wanted to hit something. Instead, I stood up and began to dress as quickly as I could, gathering my scattered clothing and putting it on with quick, jerky movements.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Dale was sitting up, looking at me.

"We can't just keep doing this, Dale."

He answered me only with silence. Maybe he was waiting for me to explain. My slacks were missing the top button, but my belt covered it up. I reached for my shoes and continued to speak.

"I mean, we haven't even talked about this. And I love Josie."

"Then let's talk, Harry," he said.

"Problem is, Cooper, I don't know what to say." I pulled on my jacket. "I've never been in this situation before. I don't know about you, but I don't exactly make a habit out of fucking other law enforcement professionals." I heard the ugly tone of my voice and hated it. I didn't feel in control. I think part of me wanted to wound, wanted to see if anything other than orgasm could make him lose his cool.

"Harry--" he started, but I turned away and kept talking as I walked to the door.

"I've got to get out of here. I'll see you at the station." I was through the door before he could speak again. I hurried to the elevator. The hallway was empty at this hour. I pushed the elevator call button. As I waited, I turned and looked back, half-expecting, half-hoping to see him come out of his room, ask me to wait, to stay, but he didn't. I left the hotel and drove home alone.

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The End

You know what I want.

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