The Visitor

by Alison
Rating: NC-17, m/m (Harry/Albert)

Slight spoilers as to character death.

Disclaimer: As much as I love these guys, they don't belong to me. They are the property of David Lynch, Mark Frost, Lynch/Frost Productions and Spelling Entertainment. Nobody has to sue, just let me have my fun :)

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When the knock finally arrived at my hotel room door, I jumped in fright. Sure, I had been half-expecting this visit for the past nine hours. Since we had all squelched out of that sodden, blood soaked cell today. Well, we all had to go dot the "i's and cross the "t's didn't we? That's our bread and butter after all. It's what we "do". Something ghastly happens and it is our job to stamp it, sign it and file it.

But today was different for me, dammit, and I know he knows. Fuck, I hardly set foot outside the lab. I don't usually get to these guys until after whatever evil has got to them had passed over, leaving the marks it is my business to interpret. Oh, I can read the language of evil, all right.I just don't usually get a face-to-face introduction terribly often. I am no field agent, thats for goddamn sure.

When I unlocked the door and got a look at the visitor, though, I gasped slightly and took a step back. I had been expecting this visit. What had caught me completely off guard was the visitor. I met his eyes and waited.

He saw that he was going to have to speak first. He really isn't as stupid as I took him to be.

"You.." started Sherriff Harry Truman, rather awkwardly, I thought. I didn't help him, just stood and continued to watch his eyes.

"You looked like you could have used a little company today".

"I'm that obvious," I rasped, characteristically, and kicked myself. Yokels and mountain men aren't entirely my type, but I didn't exactly want to chase this guy off, either. Even I don't always know where "this attitude of general unpleasantness", as Dale has called it, comes from.

He reddened. "No, I just.."

I caught hold of his wrist and drew him inside, still a little amazed at what I was doing. This was the man, after all, who knocked me flat on my face not two weeks ago.

He surprised me again. For some reason, I had been expecting to have to take the initiative, but he seemed to come to a decision. Turning, he maneuvered me so that I was pressed against the wall. I began to suspect that my impressions of this man had been dead wrong. I made a mental note to own up to Dale in the morning. As if he won't take one look at us and know exactly what we've been up to, anyway. "So, Albert," he'll say. "Is the Sheriff really all that bad?" He'll flash me that amazing smile of his, and I'll admit defeat. Happily.

He kissed me and all thoughts of Dale flew from my mind. A long, deep, searching kiss. I opened my mouth to receive him, my arms sliding up, twining round his broad back. He returned the touch, crushing me to him almost painfully as I felt the breath rush from my body. My hands moved further up, and I found myself caressing his warm neck as he nuzzled mine, my other hand buried in his thick, dark hair. Where had the hat gone? My hips pressed against his, I could feel him growing hard against me. I fumbled at his shirt, aware only that I wanted to feel this man's skin against my own. Keeping one hand in his hair, I tried to muster the dexterity to unbutton his shirt one-handed.

No good, but I always have to try. I reluctantly let go of his hair and moved my other hand to his shirt. He had had the same idea and was already divesting me of my loosened shirt and tie. I continued down, attacking his belt buckle now. The whole array, weapon, keys, and whatever else a small-town Sheriff carries at his waist, fell to the floor with a clunk.

Arms around my waist now, he lifted me as if I weighed no more than that pretty Asian girl I know he gets around with. I wrapped my legs around him, my erection pressing against his stomach.

He carried me to the bed, still kissing me deeply. Lowered me onto my back. I kept my legs wrapped round him as he loosened my slacks. Lifted my hips obligingly as he eased me out of them, taking my underwear as well, drawing his knuckles delightfully along my thighs as he did so. Removed my shoes and socks. Kissed me again as he slid out of the remainder of his clothing.

He lowered his large, hard body onto mine, rubbing himself against me. His warm, moist mouth moved under my jawline, onto my throat. Stopping as it found my pulse, nibbling and sucking and I knew, distantly, that it was would not only be Dale who would know tomorrow what I had been doing.

He left the vein, drawing a moist line down to my nipple. He moistened it with his mouth, and began working it with his finger and thumb as he moved his mouth to the other, sending shudders right through me.

I badly wanted to do something for more for him. I pushed against his hips wordlessly. He understood and raised himself slightly, allowing me to slide down beneath him, to put my mouth around his large, beautiful, weeping cock.

"Jesus!" He shuddered and almost fell on me as I took him in completely, revelling in the taste of him. I slid my hands around, gripping and kneading his muscular cheeks, aware that, if I wanted anything more tonight, I was going to have to keep this short. I sucked hungrily, reluctant to let go.

He groaned with frustration as I withdrew my mouth from him, drawing my tongue along the underside of his cock, lapping, probing the tiny slit with the tip of my tongue. "I want you", I panted, barely able to form that simple sentence.

He whimpered, pressing his lips furiously against mine once again. He lifted me effortlessly and flipped me onto my stomach. "Looks as if turning you on can have some pretty serious circumstances" I panted, something like a grin on my face. He grabbed a pillow and once again I found myself lifting my hips for him as he stuffed it beneath me.

I widened my legs to accommodate his bulk between them. He was slicking his fingers with some lube he must have retrieved from his pockets on the floor. I moaned with impatience as he warmed it in his hand. I had wanted him in me before, but that was as nothing compared with the flood of sheer need that was washing over me now. I sobbed as I felt him slide the lube between my cheeks, cried out as I felt a rough, slickened finger push against my anus, sighed as it entered me, pushing in, drawing back, pushing in a little further as I relaxed. A second finger joined the first, and I groaned, this time in pain. He did not hesitate in his attentions, merely kept sliding in and out of me, pushing the fingers apart a little now. I buried my face in the pillow and moaned again. It hurt, but he kept scissoring in and out of me, his other hand stroking the small of my back as he murmured something I could not hear but which I knew was a reassurance.

The pain receded and he knew I was finally ready. He withdrew his digits and I almost wept at the loss. He understood, leaning over and kissing my ear. "I know, baby". He coated his swollen cock with the lube. I gripped the pillow, anxious to feel him in me. Just as I thought I was about to scream from frustration, I felt him nudge against my opening. I gasped as I felt him enter me. His prepation, though lengthy and considerate, had not fully readied me for the size of him and I sobbed out loud. "Shhhh." He kissed the back of my neck. "I want you to feel good, baby". I nodded, unable to speak for the moment, as he waited, unmoving, for me to adjust to the bulk that felt as if it would split me apart. Finally, the pain faded and I was ready for him again. I pushed back against him. He groaned and thrust deeper into me. A little deeper with each thrust until he was buried in me, to the hilt. I arched against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he fucked me harder, more wildly than anyone I had ever known. He reached around and took hold of me, stroking in time with our wild thrusts. I loved the roughness of him. Harry Truman, the Sherriff I could not stand when I arrived in Twin Peaks, the one I insulted, the one who had knocked me down for my trouble, was giving me one of the hardest rides of my life. I was moaning with pleasure. I thrust back harder, wanting nothing more than to feel him ever deeper, impossibly deep, inside me. I wanted to feel him forever. It was not to be, of course. His thrusts became spasmodic, irregular, and I knew he was close. He gave my cock a few more luscious stokes and I came so hard I almost lost consciousness. I felt my muscles clamp down on him, hard, and he bellowed as he came, deep, deep inside of me. He threw his head back, hands gripping my hips like a vise, as the last of his seed shot deep into my ass. He collapsed on top of me, breathing hard, and I felt his chest heave against my back as he softened inside me. He rolled to one side and I pushed my back against him, spooning up to him, unwilling to break the contact just yet.

After a few minutes, he hauled himself off the bed, and I heard him running water in the bathroom. I joined him, amazed that my legs supported me. He drew me into the shower and I leaned against the cool tiles, letting him bathe me. I closed my eyes, content to feel his large, rough hands working away, washing all traces of lube, sweat and semen from me. I felt too languid to return the treatment, and wondered distantly how the hell he still had the strength. Too soon, he turned the water off and drew me out again, dried me. Led me back to the bed, lowering me onto it again but this time, kissing me once as he pulled the quilt over me. My eyes were closed as I heard him dressing. He walked to the door. "Goodnight, Albert", I heard him say. "Goodnight", I sighed, unable even to look up as I heard him leave me for the night. It was going to be an interesting conversation with Dale in the morning.

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The End

Constructive criticism would definitely be appreciated.

Alison

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